Antithesis [Clive, Aerith]

[Aerith]

Best Efforts

Jericho had slipped into the throes of delirium, and when she touched a hand to his shoulder, she could feel the waves of heat coming off him. He didn't need to be out here any longer. But she was afraid something horrible would happen in the transition between outside and her house.

Concentrating, she placed a hand over his feverish forehead and employed her magic. A green light enveloped Jericho, one that would perhaps ease the pain he was feeling. And if there were any wounds that she couldn't see, this would fix them right up. Maybe.

Turning to Clive, she said, "Help me get him inside. Please? He needs somewhere to rest."

[Summary:
Aerith used Curaga.
Posts until next use: 3
Uses remaining: 5]

[Nothingness]

A Missed Opportunity

Clive was about to leave when the Client collapsed in pain. That pain was something Clive knew very well but rarely felt anymore; all of those terrible emotions that came with their occupation. "The monster is human after all." Some part of Clive enjoyed seeing this, not because he enjoyed watching Jericho's suffering, but because it meant that some part of his old self was still there.

Aerith immediately went to his aid while Clive stood back and watched, emotionless as ever. Jericho was rambling incoherently, but he did manage to catch a few bits of importance from all of this. Guilt, remorse, sorrow; those feelings were bleeding through his words. Then the thought had entered his mind that there would never be another chance like this.

However, just as he was reaching for his dagger, Aerith turned and asked for his help. "Very well." Walking over to Jericho, he picked him up and carried him into the house before setting him down on a couch. Propping Jericho's head up on a pillow, Clive turned around and walked back over to a wall and stayed out of the way in case Aerith needed space to do anything. Allowing himself to slide down the wall, he sat on the floor, looking in no particular direction. If he were to receive another opportunity, he would take it.

[Slash]

The past haunts us all.

For a few seconds, he felt slight relief- then Jericho was lifted and the pain became worse.

Vincent Carter opened the door to his house, relieved to be out of the pouring rain. Relief quickly turned into apprehension. They were supposed to be here. He had paid back every cent he owed, as well as the interest, all on time. Where were they?

Jericho was set down somewhere softer, his head propped up slightly.

He opened the door to his room. It was dark, but already he knew something was horribly wrong. That smell...

"Marie?" he called, turning on the light.

"In pieces..." Jericho said slowly, his voice saturated with horror.

The sharks had kept their promise. He had his family back. At least, he was almost sure that these were parts of his family. He could make out the features of his daughter's head near his feet.

He woke from his delirium just in time to stifle a scream. He could barely move, and he still felt way too warm, but the pain was beginning to recede and he was becoming slightly more lucid.

They had helped him.

Why? Why did she help me? Why didn't Dog kill me? He tried to wrap his head around this. Acts of kindness were almost alien to him, and acts of kindness towards him were completely strange and horribly confusing. He assumed that Dog had just done as Aerith said, but why did she...?

He stared at the ceiling, trying to understand as the feeling seeped back into his limbs. Slowly, shakily, he moved himself into a sitting position and stared at his hands. Perhaps it was just the residual effects of his episode, but he couldn't make sense of it.

She helped me, and I'm going to repay her by burning everything she loves down.[/color] He hadn't had a moral conflict in forever, and it was really annoying. When was the last time he felt bad about anything?

"You shouldn't have done that," he said. "I'm grateful. But you shouldn't have helped me. I'm not worth helping."

[Aerith]

Insistence

Another negative person? Aerith wondered at all these people who seemed to think they were worth nothing. Everyone was worth something just because they were someone. Even the people who were obviously up to no good were worth something. They were just misusing their own self-worth. Maybe they thought themselves too important in their quest for their own personal gain, but that pride was merely a show. Arrogance was often compensation for something else, something deeply entrenched out of everyone else's sight.

"Don't be silly. I couldn't just leave you to the pain." She was moving toward the kitchen now. Some tea sounded lovely. Once the kettle was on the stove top, she returned to check on Jericho and Clive. The latter was sitting on the floor, staring at nothing.

"I do have chairs. Much more comfortable than the floor." She smiled briefly, still not sure what to make of Clive. But until either of the two tried to intentionally hurt her, she would continue to be hospitable.

There were extra pillows and blankets downstairs that were still left from when Ava had visited her, so she retrieved those and set them on the table next to the couch. "I don't think you're well enough to go anywhere soon," she said to Jericho. "You should probably stay and rest. I don't mind."

The others would. She really needed to stop making it a habit of inviting complete strangers into her house.

[Nothingness]

Rethinking Things

Clive waved off Aerith's offer. "Thank you, but I prefer the floor. Old habits die hard." Despite trying his best to not be noticed, Aerith's constant assistance towards them was making him wonder just what she was. She was far too nice of a person as it was, and yet he couldn't make out a shred of malicious intent about her. He used to believe that altruism was dead, but she was starting to make him think differently.

As far as his curiosity towards the Client, he was taking in quite a bit from his previous ramblings. "He and I are rather alike. Lives ruined, and driven to become the monsters we are now. I thought he was beyond salvation, but it seems he may have some hope left." Despite his original intentions, perhaps killing the Client would be a plan best put on hold. Speaking slightly louder than normal, he said to Jericho, "Attacks like those are more debilitating than one thinks. You and I both know this. Rest." Just for the Client's sake, that was Clive's way of promising not to slit his throat in his sleep.

[Slash]

Sympathy is wasted on monsters.

[/center]

No. No, you're wrong.[/color] Did he really want to argue that he should have been left in agony or killed? Yes, actually, he did. He was almost angry about it. He shouldn't be treated like a human being if he was a monster. He would have far preferred to be shunned, reviled, put out of his pathetic misery like a rabid dog if only it meant not having to do this.

The symptoms of the episode, besides the weakness, had mostly faded, leaving him feeling strange. It felt like there was some kind of switch in his head. Whatever it did, Jericho knew it would not be good.

It didn't matter. He couldn't take this anymore. It was too much, far too much. She needed to understand. They both needed to understand. Especially Dog- he knew what Jericho was. Why? He was past the point of no return.

He tried to stand and failed. "No, no," he said. "You don't understand. No, please, you don't understand. Neither of you get it."

He flipped the switch. The physical change was completely silent and almost instantaneous.

A malignant red aura surrounded him. It moved on its own, writhing and bubbling steadily. He felt strange protrusions, almost like...limbs? He pulled them around himself and saw that they were limbs, 6 in all and shaped like the segmented legs of a spider. They were not solid in the least, merely manipulations of the aura, but he found that he could move them as if they were attached to his body.

The aura seemed to be...no, was reaching for Dog and Aerith as a man might blindly grope for a light switch in the dark. It possessed some will of its own, then, but none that he had given it. Unless...

There had been Carter, then Carter had given way to him. He assumed that he was the end of the change, but what if he was merely an intermediary step, a sort of cocoon phase for something else?

He looked from himself to Dog, then Aerith, then to himself, unaware that his eyes had changed from green to a feral yellow. Even in that state, they did not hold any fury- merely surprise combined with sad resignation and extreme self-disgust.

He switched back.

"Don't you get it? Look at me! I'm not even a man anymore. You saved a monster, some sort of rabid, disfigured thing." He tried to sound angry, but all that came out was an intense fear bordering on panic. He was dying. Not physically dying, but dying in the same way Carter had. That wasn't why he was as afraid as he was, though- he was afraid of whatever part of him he had seen in the aura, whatever inhuman thing he was going to become.

He wished that he could stop trembling as violently as he was.

"Hate me. Revile me. Kill me...but please, don't act so kind. Please," he said sadly.

Black shapes blurred his vision, and he passed out.

[Aerith]

Speechless

Jericho was quick to deny her kindness, but she had not expected what happened next. So much for thinking Clive was the more dangerous of the two.

She instinctively took a few steps back, watching with wide eyes as something else, something darker and more sinister, took over the man on her couch. A red glow framed his body, seeming to possess a life of its own. Six shadowy appendages curled around him, and even he looked surprised at their appearance.

When he finally looked in her direction, she met not the green eyes she knew before, but the yellow eyes of a beast. Was he a Heartless? She had never seen a Heartless like this before, though. Whatever it was, it was reaching for her and Clive like a hungry predator.

She took another step back.

It did not actually touch her, though. Within moments, the limbs had disappeared, the red glow was gone, and Jericho's eyes had returned to a less intimidating green. Words caught in her throat, the shock from witnessing such a sudden transformation having stolen her usual rebuttals. She could only say them to herself over and over again.

Not a monster, not a monster, not a monster...

But no, this... this was truly a monster in front of her. This was not like Cloud. Cloud thought he was a monster but had no true foundation for that assumption. He only suffered from derailed self-esteem, a lack of confidence. Jericho had just shown her plain as day that he was a monster. However, like Cloud, Jericho had done nothing to harm her when he could have. Could that mean he was not as much of a monster as he thought he was?

He went limp on the couch from lost consciousness. Aerith didn't move for a long moment. Her breathing sounded loud in her ears. Finally, she worked up the courage to go over to the couch. She picked up a blanket and draped it softly over Jericho.

She was unwilling to linger near him for long, so she turned toward the kitchen. Words were still stuck somewhere deep inside her, so she only managed a glance at Clive as she passed him. It was only after she had poured herself a cup of tea and taken a sip or two that she found something to say, albeit quietly, to the guest who was still conscious.

"Did you want something to eat or drink?"

[Nothingness]

As Good a Plan as Any

Clive sat in the same place throughout the Client's episode, silently watching the terrible transformation take place. He'd already seen the Client do this--it held no terror for him--yet at the same time he was hoping for the monster to attack him. If he truly was as much of a monster as he said, then there shouldn't have been that self-control. No, this man was still just as human as Clive himself; he just chose to repress that side of him.

As the Client finally passed out, Clive glanced at Aerith. It didn't take much effort to realize that she was beyond shocked by this display--not that he could really blame her. She left for a brief moment, only taking a quick look at Clive before drinking some of the tea she had prepared earlier. Clive couldn't help but smirk a little at her asking him if he wanted something. Such an innocent young woman. "Tea would be lovely." Clive answered before standing up.

Walking into the kitchen he took the liberty of pouring himself a cup of tea. The way Aerith was looking she would probably drop the pot and shatter it if he so much as blinked. Well, he doubted that she would be recovering from this within the next few minutes, so Clive decided to move a little bit out of his comfort zone. Taking over the situation a little, he gestured towards a small table in the kitchen. "Please, sit." Sitting down himself opposite of the other seat, he asked, "Anything you would like to know?" An unorthodox question, given the circumstances, but any conversation would be better than none.

[Aerith]

Getting a Grip

Clive's voice almost startled her until she remembered she had asked him a question. Aerith watched him pour his tea and sit at her table. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this off-balance. Then again, she hadn't experienced something like that in her own house. Images of the day she had first lost her home, her entire world, flashed through her head, but she shook them off. She and the others in the RGRC weren't going to let that happen again.

She sat down opposite Clive and looked down at her tea. Was there anything she wanted to know? Of course. There were many things she wanted to know. But she didn't want to hurl questions at him.

Finally, she looked up at him, most of her composure regained at this point. "Well... who are you, really? Not just a name, I mean. And why are you with him?"

[Nothingness]

Answers

Well, she certainly chose a broad question to answer. He'd be talking for quite a while, but that wasn't going to kill him. Taking a sip of tea, he began. "I am an assassin-for-hire. I'm not in it for the blood, the thrill, or the money. I see no profit in those. I just want to be with my wife and daughter once again." Taking another sip of tea, he closed his eyes. There they were again--but they were smiling broadly now. Were they that happy? He knew a long time ago what he had become, but were they proud he could admit something so shameful?

Dispelling the vision, he opened his eyes again and continued. "It seems so far away, but in another life I had never held ill will towards and man. I was a husband and father, with a loving wife, and a beautiful daughter." Glancing off to the side, he let off a quiet chuckle. Looking back at Aerith, he reached down his jacket and pulled out the silver cross hanging from his neck. Showing her both that and the ring, he went on. " But one day they were taken from me, and I was thought to be their murderer. I was found over their bodies, lost in my despair when I was taken away by the Royal Guard. I can't recall for how long I was trapped in that dungeon: beaten, tortured, starved. And yet, when I was to be executed, death eluded me, and through some twist of fate, pirates attacked the town and took me. I became the killer I am now."

Pausing for a moment, he finished his tea. "Does that answer both of your questions?"

[Slash]

I am nobody. Who are you?

Home? He was back in his old home, but this wasn't another flashback- there was no blood on the floor, no storm raging outside. He was in his living room. Two other people were there with him, one sitting quietly on the floor and one lying down lazily on the couch. They looked like- well, they looked exactly like him, downto the smallest detail.

"Who are you?" Jericho asked them. "Are you me?"

"Yes and no," the person on the floor answered.

"You'll have to forgive Carter," the one on the couch said. "He doesn't have the energy to talk much. This is your way of simplifying things by portraying all of us as seperate people, even though we're all just facets of the same person. You might want to sit down or something," he suggested. Jericho sat down on the floor.

"So, if he's Carter, then you're..."

"The monster?" He nodded. "Exactly."

"You don't look like much of a monster."

"Well, of course not. I'm you, and you don't know what you're going to look like." He sat up and a red aura appeared, six spider legs taking different positions around the couch. His eyes remained green, though, simply because Jericho didn't know that his eyes turned yellow during the transformation. "Is that better?"

"In a sense." Jericho looked at Carter, who quietly looked back. The man looked exhausted and very weak. Jericho was sad to see him in this state- he had always considered him like a dead friend, and the news that he wasn't dead was shocking. "I thought you were dead," he said.

"Not yet."

"But he will be soon. He's fading."

"And you're getting stronger."

"We're getting stronger. You are half of me and half of him. When I take over, you'll still exist. He won't."[/b] The monster grinned. "Despite what you think, you still have a choice. You still have it within you to end your life. If you do that, you can quit while some shred of Carter exists. If you don't...well, the result is obvious. But is that so terrible?" He laughed. "You are part of me, after all. We both know that we have only unlocked a small fraction of the power we will possess. You know that we are monsters- accept it, and your goal will be that much easier to reach. Existence will be so much easier when you cast aside the filthy remnants of your humanity."

There was a pause as Carter struggled to speak. "Marie would hate us," he said sadly.

"It's not about Marie anymore. It hasn't been for a while," the monster said. "Poor Carter. Your death will be a painless one, I assure you. It is the least I can do."

"So, either kill myself or become a monster?"

"Good job. End your life or accept the strength that I offer at the cost of your humanity."

Before Jericho could answer, everything faded into grey.[/i]

Jericho woke up silently. Things were clear again, at least, if not ideal.

End your life, or accept the strength that I offer.

He would have to think about that. He wasn't going to lie to himself and pretend that the offer wasn't somewhat appealing to him.

He took notice of his surroundings for the first time. A blanket? What a strange woman this Aerith was. So accomodating to monsters with ethereal spider legs.

Moving quietly, he took it off, sat up, and listened to the conversation in the other room.

[Aerith]

Confusion

Aerith took a moment to absorb everything Clive was saying. An assassin. That explained the blood smell and the rough edges. Strange that he only did this to be with his wife and child again. He had some sort of death wish, then.

"Yes. It does answer them." Jericho must have hired Clive, which would explain why they were traveling together. She would have asked exactly what they were planning on assassinating, but she figured, even if he gave an answer, she didn't really want to know it.

After taking another sip of her tea, she gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry about your family." She knew it probably sounded weak. Condolences wouldn't bring back what he had lost. Nothing could. But she didn't know what else to say to him. This was unusual for her. With Cloud, she seemed to always know what to say, even when he repeatedly denied her words. She kept telling herself it was the residual effects of shock.

"There's something I don't understand, though. You want to be with them again, but... do you really think killing people is going to make them happy? If you want to die so badly, then just..." She paused, thinking how best to phrase this without sounding cruel. "Just give up."

It still didn't sound right, and she grimaced a little. "I mean, um... Well, what I mean is, there are ways to reunite with the dead without taking away other people's lives. People who want to die simply stop fighting back. Why do you keep fighting if, as you say, you have nothing left to live for?"

[Nothingness]

Clarity

Well, she certainly was different from most. She tried her best to show him some sympathy, not that it would do any good. Still, it was a fresh change from people asking him to kill others or cowering at the sight of him. But then she asked him something that he used to wonder about every day: why didn't he just give up? It didn't take much thought to give her an answer. "There were many times I thought of letting it end. I could've killed myself in any number of ways, and I don't expect you to understand this, but I still have the will to live. I still have my humanity." Propping his elbows on the table, and his chin on his hands, he closed his eyes as he spoke--their faces smiling at him as much as ever. "I doubt that they're proud of me for what I've done--God knows that I'm not--but when my time comes, I'd rather meet them with my shame than having given up." He paused for what seemed like an eternity before saying softly. "They live on through me."

Looking at Aerith, he continued in a quiet, somber tone. "As for my current occupation, what else am I to do? All I know how to do now is kill. I don't think that I could even do what I did in my past life. My hands are stained with far to much blood to grip a hammer." Leaning back in his chair, he hung one arm over the back and turned to look into the other room. It wasn't difficult for him to hear the sounds of the couch springs squeaking. "You've recovered." It didn't matter how much the Client had heard. Nothing he said would give the Client any ground over him.

[Slash]

A moment of lucidity.

[/center]

"Somewhat," Jericho said. Aerith wasn't in the room yet, so Jericho lowered his voice and spoke exclusively to Dog.

"You should stay here. If you know what's good for you, stay here. I'll call off everything on this world- I'll leave, and you can do what you like. Do something with yourself- you're not completely irredeemable. It will do you absolutely no good to follow me at this point, and I don't think I'll be needing any help much longer."

He stared at the wall again. It was still Dog's choice. but if Dog chose to stay with him, it wasn't going to end well. Dog wanted to die, but Jericho was sure that if they travelled together, his death would be both incredibly painful and very slow.

[Nothingness]

Unemployment

Clive gave the Client a hard stare. So, he was fired? He couldn't help but think that this had been an amazing waste of time. How irritating. "I am unemployed then." He closed his eyes--this was the first time he'd ever been let loose before a job was done. Having been fired didn't so much bother him, but it was still quite bittersweet. On the one hand, it meant that he didn't need to kill for a while, which lightened his already heavy soul, but on the other hand, he had nothing to focus on but the next job. At least he no longer had to worry about killing the Client anymore. Without being attached to him, Clive didn't need to worry about what chaos he wrought.

"Very well. It seems that I'm a free-agent once again." Eyes still closed, he saw Claire and Rachelle's faces beaming expectantly. Maybe it wasn't too late for redemption. Perhaps he could become the man he once was. Aerith had certainly put enough faith in him. Maybe, just maybe, he could stop this crazy death-wish of his and live a normal life. Well, that is, if Aerith hired him.