ukan | IC CONTACT

Trevor feels like shit. He had hoped that Lark might have volunteered to lift the curse himself but that doesn't seem to be happening and he's too proud (and tired) to beg.

"It's not that. I can fight in self-fucking defense, which is useless. I can't defend someone else. According to the fucker who put the thing on me, I'm supposed to 'call for help'. Like that's ever worked in the history of human-fucking-kind."

Bitter now, he waits for Lark to unlock the kitchen doors.

He opens the door and holds it for Trevor. "I'm not your warden which means I can't lift it. But if I was your warden, I'd ask you how far back your idea of 'defense' goes. Would you kill someone over something they might do?"

Trevor lugs in the meat and sets the animal up on the table, then goes to seize a knife. Hygiene? What's that?

"You're my temporary warden. What good's a temporary one if they can't do all the regular shit on a temporary basis? And sure. If I thought there was a good chance of them doing it again."

He bends down to start working on the boar.

"Take what happened a few days ago with the animal souls everyone had. One person starts beating up on his: it's a defenseless little rabbit. He beat the shit out of her. She's hiding under the table in a crowded lunchroom and no one gives a fuck, clearly, because it's somehow all right if it's his. I go to break his arm and the curse triggers."

Lark frowns and gets the mop. They'll need it. "That's different. That's reacting to something that is actually happening. And if it was up to me, you would have been able to stop him."

He stares down at his handiwork and rolls up his sleeves, preferring not to stain his clothes as best he can.

"It is up to you. Zack seems to think so."

"The second we aren't paired anymore he can--and will--put the restriction right back on you." Lark rests a hand on the pig to help hold it steady.

"If I lift it, it's not going to be to give you no restrictions, Trevor. You're acting on what you learned works in your world. It doesn't work that way here, and my job is to get you to where you can function in and adapt to both places."

"Yeah. Had a feeling you'd say something like that." He carefully begins to carve down the middle in order to skin the boar first.

"My job used to be to protect people and now I can't even do that poorly anymore, if I wanted to. So now that you've all made me fucking useless as dirt, might as well see what trouble I can get up to."

The knife in his hand twitches.

He sighs. "You were getting into plenty of trouble before. I'm not telling you to stop protecting people, Trevor. I'm telling you to find new ways of doing it because everything you were doing at home doesn't apply here."

"And I'm telling you that it doesn't make sense for me to find new ways when you're going to turn me back around and supposedly send me back."

Back: not home. The bones crack from the boar as he begins to sever tendons and cut through skin.

"Sure, I can be creative. But the point is that I shouldn't have to be when every other fuckhead gets to kill people in front of me or hurt animals or go after people and the second I try to stop them, I get stuck as a fuck-off ghost."

He exhales, and then brings his fist down on Lark's hand to end this conversation that's going nowhere. Trevor's hand passes harmlessly through him, the knife drops, and the job's barely done as he stares at his see-through fist.

"See you in an hour."

Lark stares at him a moment. "I agree. I'm not here to strip you of things that let you survive at home. But here on this ship, the rules are different. People here need to learn how to protect themselves. Did you ever stop to think maybe you'd get further teaching them what you know, instead of throwing yourself into their fights?"

He kicks the knife up and catches it, hands it back. "Compromise with me. Don't shut me out because you've been told it has to be all one way or another. I want you to step in when people are hurting, I would have cheered if you had protected that rabbit. But you need to learn the boundaries here, you need to operate in a way that benefits everyone."

Trevor lingers in his ghost form, unable to really say no or fuck off to Lark despite how much he really wants to.

"It's more complicated than that."

"All right." I'm listening. "What am I missing?"

"Prisoners don't love their chains." He replies back, rubbing at his face. "And telling me I'm lucky to be in purgatory isn't a way to endear me to it."

"Fuck, I need a drink." Trevor starts for the door.

"You're right." After a while even Lark's eagerness to learn and adopt every opportunity had dimmed into bitterness. It had taken a few years, but it still happened.

"I have a bottle you can have."

Trevor knows he's bitterness incarnate in these darker moments, but he tries not to let it rub off on other people where he can. Before meeting his friends, he might not have cared, but at least that's one thing that seems to have changed for the better.

"You have a transparent bottle that can be picked up by ghosts?"

Huh. "He took away your drinking?"

He gives a moody look back at Lark, still transparent since the moment he went to hit his hand.

"I can't touch anything for an hour."

He rolls his eyes. "If you knew that why did you try to skewer my hand?"

"So I could end this conversation about you not lifting this goddamn curse."

Edited 2022-01-06 18:10 (UTC)

"You want me to end it, I need to know you're going to show restraint. Like I've asked you to do multiple times before. There are ways of helping people that don't end in the infirmary."

"I have been showing restraint since I arrived on this boat." Trevor's jaw is practically cracking in half from anger.

"You want me to do what you do? Pat the violent ones on the head after they eat people or hurt animals or children and tell them to do better next time? It's wrong. This whole fucking place is wrong and I'm tired of pretending it isn't. I think I'm the easiest fucking target here to pin it on because I'm reacting to it all and you're here pretending that if you just treat violent people fine, they're not going to turn on you."

He points at Lark, heading towards the exit.

"I'm done."

Lark lets him go. Trevor has the right to his space, and Lark needs time to put the new pieces together into a better proposal.

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