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the dredge was a tolerable roommate- she tried to accommodate for its size, gave it survivors’ belongings when she found them and did her best to leave it alone. other than the occasional destruction it caused from its internal chaos, it left her alone too- and all she had to do was make repairs to keep both of them satiated.
the trickster, though, was a different situation altogether. it was bad enough- despite its size, the mansion had very few usable bedrooms, and leaving one for the dredge if it chose to rest meant that she had to arrange her time with the trickster. alternating days, one sleeping on the floor, one making home in the shack while the other kept the bed if necessary… it was complicated.
but there was no way she would allow herself to share a bed with someone, much less him.
and that wasn’t even the extent of the problems he created. he was a nuisance, who stole and traded for pieces from other realms to build a studio in one of the larger rooms, breaking up her well planned repairs and requesting new, entirely different ones to accommodate his plans. and he never warned her first, never asked, and requested with the aura that he expected her to fix things for him without anything in return.
and she only fixed them because she did not know what she could possibly ask from him except for him to leave, but he really did not have anywhere else where he was wanted. she felt the slightest twang of guilt considering it, even knowing how insufferable he was to others.
he was a nuisance in general- even when he wasn’t assembling his studio or creating his awful tracks, he would enter her space as if it were his own. he would observe her, peering over her shoulder to read her notes or whatever book she’d found from the mansion’s library. he would
rest his chin gently on her shoulder
, say nothing and silently observe-
not ideal, but she knew he had no use for her research, so she let it slide
- but other moments he’d comment, he’d sit there in the corner of the room and ramble about something that had happened while she tried to continue working. sometimes he’d follow her, almost interrogating her on what she was doing, where she was going, if she was going to meet someone (and if so, who was it, why was she meeting them, what they had that he didn’t, and so on), he’d involve her in his nonsense when he irritated other people. he talked about her without ever saying her name, but she could always tell who he meant- and he called her his muse and dragged her into his studio to listen to tracks, studying her face for her reaction and never finding anything because her face never moved.
she remembered the day she removed all the mirrors from the building and left them outside, only to find that he’d moved them all into one room and closed the door. she remembered the day she woke up at her desk with his furry coat around her shoulders. and she tried not to remember those events again.
his kindness only ever seemed extended to her- and she noticed. her own observations of him led her to be more accepting of her own nature further in the past- when she was prey, he chased her unlike any other survivor. he’d played with her expectations, almost luring her into his grasp. he chased her until she noticed, then completely stopped so she would come for him, and come for him she did. she hated that she’d fallen for his trick, gone right back to force him to explain why he chased her the way he did and never got the answer. when she’d finally escaped,
the emptiness she felt drew her back, and somehow she could tell it was his doing. but when she became predator, no longer prey, he almost shrunk against her attempt to understand the past. so she chose to mind herself, disregard him, for he had nothing to do for her now. how stupid she was to think that way, for as soon as she looked away he began to chase her again.
and still she did not know why. he irritated her to no end and planted himself in the corner of her mind, growing and growing despite her denial. she was afraid- even if he had no use for her, there was a reason for everything- and why would he want her? what made her so magnetic, what drew him in? she did not want to let him in, lest he find her weakness and decide she was no longer worth his kindness, decide to use her and throw her away like everyone else would. he was too close now and he was growing closer still. she needed to cut him out at the root, fill his place with cement and build up the walls he’d broken down.
he made her weak , and it sickened her. she did not know when he would turn on her, just that he would. it was only natural. the last person she put her trust in had to die, for he too had given up on her and tried to get rid of her. there was no one worth letting in, no one worth keeping.
she tried to make it clear.
she locked the doors. boarded the doors and windows, covering them in sheets. she forced him out and locked herself further inside, her only company the dredge when it chose to emerge from a locker and scratch at the floorboards.
he became a miserable dog, whining to be let back in. she watched the others tell him he deserved it. he was a horrible person. nobody loved him, even someone as miserable as she was would eventually leave.
despite her guilt, she could not let him back in.
it was too risky. and she knew what he was, what he was capable of. the time they spent in the mansion together only proved it. so why did she feel regret? why did she want to tear down the boards she put up, when she knew he would eventually hurt her, like everyone else did?
- what have i done?
- what did i do wrong?
- please. let me fix this.
he whined in her messages, begging for why, for what, for another chance when he had no idea why he’d been left out on the porch to fend for himself. she tried to ignore him, to close her eyes and her ears and continue the work. let him be on his own. he was going to hurt her eventually if she let him in, so better to kick him out, let him get over her and move on.
she didn’t need a friend, she didn’t need company, and she didn’t need him.
not even when the nights got cold and she remembered the days she heard him hum in his sleep on the floor, watched him squeeze the pillow in his arms from her place on the bed.
or the days he forgot that it was her turn to take the bed that night and he’d fell next to her, too tired to notice she was there and she too far asleep to push him off.
those days she’d woken up to his arms around her blanket covered body, face nuzzled into her neck, and in a panic she would slip out from his grasp and act as if nothing had happened.
the feeling of his embrace lingered on her skin, and she’d scratch at her arms feverishly to forget it. if it was desire or repulsion, she did not know, and she was afraid to find out.
but he was persistent. and ever so kind when he caught her outside. he continued to watch from afar, but he said nothing. he stopped his incessant whining, and even then she still felt regret. she watched him continue badgering others, only giving her a wave before moving on. somehow, it still hurt, even though it was what she wanted.
she returned to the mansion only to find bits and pieces of metal littered on the doorstep. on a closer look, she noticed more in the grass leading away from the door.
she knew better than to follow an obviously set trail. and yet she followed it anyways, down the grass and across the road to the shack.
a dark curtain covered the otherwise open doorway, warm light glowing underneath.
“you’ve found me.”
his voice caught her off guard, even though she knew he would be there.
she turned her head, ready to leave. she couldn’t do this, no, she couldn’t fall for his tricks again, it was all just a ploy to ruin her and she had to leave-
“if you leave, i get it.”
she winced.
“i don’t know what i did, but i am trying to change.” he laughed meekly. “i’m not sure if i even can. but i am trying.”
she pushed the curtain aside, stepping inside the shack. a small candle sat on a box, lit as he sat on the floor behind it. she could see the haphazardly arranged blanket on the ground behind him, his clothes piled up next to it. a few books were stacked neatly in the corner, paper sticking out of the pages. she slowly kneeled down onto the ground, sitting in front of him.
“what is all this?”
“it was the only way i could think of to get you to listen to me.” he took a deep breath. “and honestly, i’ve missed you.”
she did not know how to respond.
“you locked me out, you ignored my messages, and you refused to talk to me. and all this time, i couldn’t understand why.
i thought we were getting closer, but you pushed me away. so i thought i should give you space until i figured out how to make it up to y- are you crying?” he looked at her now, reaching up to touch her face, but he pulled his hand back.
she hid her face in her hands. the tears came even when she did not want them. it was embarrassing and stupid.
“what’s wrong? you can tell me.”
and the tears only continued to flow. she balled her fists and held them to her eyes. she turned her head away. he shouldn’t see her like this.
“ jagiya , please. you don’t even have to look at me, i just want to know how to make you feel better.”
she turned back to face him, feeling her throat tighten.
“why are you being so nice to me? i’ve been so mean to you.”
she dropped her fists into her lap.
“even after i locked you out, you’re still being nice to me. why? what do you want from me?”
he looked at her, his expression falling into a frown.
“why would i want anything from you? i’m doing this because i like you.”
“that’s not true. nobody likes me.”
he shifted himself to the side of the box in front of him, moving closer to her. he bent down, leaning towards her.
“that’s not true. there are other people who like you. and if you don’t care about them, gerard likes you and i like you.”
“gerard’s a monster made of sad people. it doesn’t care,” she bit back.
“what about me? i like you. i always have.”
he made a sad face, placing his hand over hers.
“you’re smart, you can build amazing machines and create new things all the time. you’re funny, and you’re pretty. how could i not like you?”
“but i still locked you out, and i haven’t been nice to you.”
he looked away, the tinge of blush growing on his cheeks.
“being locked out was one thing, but i realized you needed space. the other..”
she stared at him for a second.
“i’d be lying if i said that i didn’t like it when you were rude to me. how could i turn down being insulted by someone as handsome as you?”
she frowned.
“and how am i supposed to believe you’re not just trying to butter me up? do you actually like me, or do you just want what i can do for you?”
he rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a tiny watch on a chain.
“hey, isn’t that-” she started.
“i heard you say it was broken and not worth fixing before you threw it in the trash. i took it and asked around until i could find someone willing to help me fix it.”
she froze.
“it is yours. if i wanted to use you, i wouldn’t have tried to fix it. you and i both know what it’s like.”
it didn’t add up to her, and yet..
he looked downwards.
“if you’re still afraid… i understand. i’ll give you time to think about whether you trust me.”
she grabbed his hand.
“i’m not sure if i trust you. but i want to.”
he pressed his lips to the back of her hand, watching as her eyes grew wide.
“i’ll do whatever i have to, so you won’t regret it.”