Work Text:
mending clothes was nothing new to dusekkar. not much was in the grand scheme of things: he had lived long enough to oversee the beginnings of creation and wave past robloxians as they came and went. it used to be an activity he’d sometimes bide himself with if he had the time, especially after a hard-fought duel with him and telamon. those days are long behind him now but he cherishes them all the same
he’s not sure how long he’s been trapped here for. whether he lives or dies, the time passes all the same. survive for a certain amount of time, fix generators, then wake up in a cabin to repeat the cycle no matter what. its a steady rhythm for him by now, just by keeping track he’s able to tell when it’ll repeat all over again. whatever fate pulled them here worked on a very consistent schedule
on the second floor of the cabin, dusekkar sat comfortably on a bean-bag chair. a pile of clothes rest next to him on the floor, a mix of different survivors. before this he took the time to wash the blood off with warm water and speed up the drying process with his magic. it wasn’t something anyone told him to do. he simply busied himself with it, particularly for the ones who had died, out of an act of service
the rest of the survivors either got out for fresh air or were busy downstairs, tending to each other’s wounds and injuries. there was a lack of conversation this time, something dusekkar didn’t find himself minding. the round they were previously in had only ended an hour ago
he heard someone come up the stairs, each step slow as if the other person was considering to back out. momentarily he thought of guessing who it was. someone like shedletsky or chance would be more confident in their steps. maybe it was someone more solemn then, such as taph or guest 1337? regardless of his speculation he didn’t make a move to find out prematurely. if whoever it was wanted to come in, then he’d wait until they did
eventually they make it up, taking a moment before entering the room. dusekkar turned his head, reaction minimal as he finds out who it is. 007n7 stands awkwardly by the entrance. he’d hardly seen him in ages
“oh, so you are here. um. hi, dusekkar,” despite the greeting, he found an excuse to look anywhere else. “do you have a moment?”
“if a conversation with me is what you wish for, then you may take a seat. suppose i can spare a moment for you, as it is we rarely meet.” he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t intrigued by whatever the exploiter had to say
“thank you.” 007n7 mutters. he dragged himself to sit next to him, complexion mired with nervousness. as a show of respect dusekkar put his current work to rest, the cloth of others covering his godly robes
“to see you is a surprise, you hide from most in the midst. always coming by quick — and leaving just as swift.” he watches as the other sinks into the chair further, not out of comfort but to appear smaller than he already does
“er, yes. sorry,” apologies slip by before 007n7 can introduce the topic. his eyes steady on dusekkar, occasionally darting to the wall beside him. “i wanted to say something that’s been on my mind for awhile.”
there’s a brief lull where 007n7 waits for a response, but dusekkar refrains from giving one immediately. 007n7 opens his mouth and what happens after is accidental, he cuts him off from explaining. “we’ve barely exchanged pleasantries, isn’t it quite early to apologise? my name is dusekkar, a former admin as you may surmise.”
cementing his status may have been in poor taste. however he’s not asking because he forgot who 007n7 was. how could he? while he began to taper off in the later years, the hacker’s legacy had been burned into every administrator’s mind. he was infamous to the majority whether he liked it or not. no, what dusekkar meant was a gentle nudge for him to calm down
“007n7. former hacker,” he places emphasis. judging by 007n7’s pinched expression, the sentiment didn’t follow through. “that’s what i wanted to talk about. i wanted to apologise for everything i’ve done,” again, dusekkar waits for him to finish. this time 007n7 gets the hint. “for all the exploiting i did, for the countless people i hurt. you don’t have to forgive me, i… really don’t expect you to. i just wanted to let you know.”
in truth he hadn’t expected this. considering their duties on the field, the two didn’t come into contact with one another. they rarely share the same space and if such a miracle were to occur, 007n7 made sure it didn’t last for more than a few moments. it made it difficult for others to form an opinion on him other than what he’s known for
unlike the other admins, dusekkar doesn’t necessarily consider exploiting a sin within itself. what mattered was how it was used. flight was the best example he could pull from. during the early years of his godhood he watched in amazement as the common robloxian discovered it, revealing a fault in the physics engine. but to conflate that to the misdeeds of the man in front of him would be tactless
the mage pauses, considering his words. he’s aware that may grate on the hacker, perhaps used to instant gratification, but he found that responding immediately often meant the other party wasn’t listening at all. “a guilty conscious is the first step to recovery, reaching out to make amends is the second. while you may never change the past, coming to me took strength i reckon,” dusekkar’s gaze falls to his lap, hands picking up a needle. he threads through a battered shirt as he continues. “i cannot claim to forgive you yet but please take my rapport. your words are appreciated and you have my support.”
and with that the tension finally simmered. 007n7’s shoulders relaxed, the weighing guilt upon them feeling a tad lighter. “thank you. that really means a lot to me,” he sighs. “more than you could ever know.”
he nods in response. dusekkar could never lift the burden for 007n7 on his own, nor does he intend to. he knows he must be the easiest to apologise to and he cannot forgive him in others stead. but if he can act as a shoulder to fall back on or a gentle push in the right direction, then he wouldn’t mind putting in the extra effort. like watching crops grow with seasons, all he can do is wait and see if 007n7 follows through
fire crackles in the abstinence from both the campfire and the bead of life shielded by dusekkar’s ‘head’. one thing he’s always been aware of was the difference in the air most feel while talking with him. he’s been called calming to be around, people often felt the need to spill their thoughts towards him. it wasn’t something he minded. in truth the secret was simple: it was silence
since the dawn of robloxia dusekkar’s been a man who found comfort in silence, to roam in a space with someone else and not feel the rush to fill it with words. with that there was no need to pretend to be someone, no need to put on a facsimile of caring or bother with small talk (not that he wasn’t a fan of that either). to simply be, is that not the truest form of companionship?
he would note how others took it with light amusement. most saw it as a sign to leave and only a rare few would feel comfortable enough to abide by him, meanwhile someone like shedletsky would do anything to fill it. despite the great lengths he took to hide it, dusekkar could tell it was out of nervousness. 007n7 was much like the latter. soon enough his relaxation dissolved back into cautious fidgeting, eyes briefly going to the door. dusekkar made no plea for him to stay. if the conversation ended here then they’d both leave satisfied, continuing on with their well-deserved rest
007n7 breaks the quiet with a stutter, as if forcing himself to speak. “uhm. can i ask, why aren’t you using your magic to fix that? surely it’d go by faster if you did.”
the question drives an exhale out of him, a laugh. “the hands of time have not yet counted for us, there’s no need to panic. simple things like this should be tended to with fondness, not magic.”
“oh, i see,” the ex-hacker awkwardly laughs. “sorry. i used to do this for my son’s stuff, but he’d end up poking at the new stitches on purpose. duplicating things before it tore at all was often easier.”
the brief memory rose a smile from them both. the two’s familial tie was clear from the first time the survivors faced the child. dusekkar didn’t know much about him and he saw no need to ask. it undoubtedly must’ve been a shock, a sore spot that needed no further pressing. he could never imagine the pain and grief of it all, still having to run from his own son. if 007n7 ever felt comfortable enough to address it then he’d lend an ear, but for now he was content to sit with him by the fire
he’s faintly surprised to still feel a gaze upon him, yet its a welcome change from what he was expecting. 007n7’s eyes settle on the pile of clothes still beside him, washed from the blood that once stained them. “hey. maybe i can help?”
dusekkar looks back at the father with a nod, their smile still intact