[There's one moment of visible hesitation before he looks away, begins talking, the lines and angles of his body hard and stiff and cold. Prepare yourself, now-- it's probably the most anyone will ever have heard him say, all in one go.]
I've told you a little of the place I'm from. Of the Below, the monsters created therein. Monsters that are thrown into death matches against others of their kind, or of earlier models considered to be failures now used as little more than canon fodder. A place where there is no room for personal connections besides allegiance to one's creator, because anything else would only end in betrayal, as we shall see.
This creator, the Professor, She was able to construct a entity of pure chaos, a veritable incarnation of violence-- the Kerberos Spine. Initial experiments intended to implant it into human hosts were of limited success-- they became more violent, more powerful certainly, but all of them ultimately lost their minds or physically mutated beyond recognition, monstrous hulking beasts that were nothing short of a horror to behold. It became clear enough that She'd need to start from the ground up, create an artificial lifeform capable of high resonance rates with the Spine and the nightmare held within it.
And so, the Rammsteiner series came into being. Again, She had varying levels of success, some more able to withstand Kerberos' corruptive influence than others. Some began to come apart at the seams, their minds slowly corroded by the thing that resided in their backs, others...failed to respond at all. But ultimately, She only ever needed one-- intended to be a Master, She would choose the best of them to connect with the original Spine, to create a being capable of controlling and commanding an army of loyal dogs, also in possession of the Spine. And when it became clear to Her which of Her creations was best suited to this task, when this specimen came to Her and requested the very thing She was offering...well. The others were no longer of any use to Her.
And so, by setting loose the beasts in their Spines, ensuring they could no longer control themselves, She set them upon one another, had them tear each other apart. This series of beings, who saw each other as siblings. Spurred them on with the promise that, should any of them survive, She would love them with all of Her heart.
[Again, the briefest of pauses, a moment to gather himself for this dark twisted episode from his own past that he's never before put into words. When he continues on, his voice is cool and detached, as though he truly were telling a story, something quite apart from himself.]
But something went wrong. The one chosen to be the Master broke free of his connection with the original Spine, with Kerberos fully awoken in him now, and descended into that sea of blood and carnage in order to tear one specific sibling apart - one of two who he had promised to save - before fleeing the facility and making his escape. And the other to whom he had extended that promise...well. He abandoned it, buried beneath the corpses of its massacred siblings. Buried, but still alive.
And just as the Professor had promised, She kept the one that lived. Even though it was faulty, had never manifested the abilities associated with the Spine. Even though it was never the one She wanted, the one least likely to succeed. And in an effort to make it match up to the prodigal son, the one that got away, it was subjected to one experiment after another until it not only manifested the abilities associated with the Spine, but surpassed them-- whilst all the others could heal from any wound bar a direct shot to the head, her remaining Rammsteiner was now able to survive even massive brain injury, was almost impossible to kill.
Only, in this too, Her creation was once again flawed. It could survive such an injury, yes, but the price was the degradation of its memories. A complete loss of self. And so, eventually, it would end up nothing more than an empty shell of itself, destined to become just another failed experiment, canon fodder, like all the rest. A fate far worse than death.
[He looks back at Scott finally. Flashes his crooked-pin smile.]
And so you see, this issue with the taxara which I'm sure you've heard about by now-- it's something I take a tad personally. A point on which I fear I won't be able to act with rationality. Hahah.
[Every piece of it falls into place for him. From Scott's perspective, the Professor isn't unlike the Dread Doctors. So caught up in experimenting, they tried everything they possibly could to recreate the Beast, bringing it back to life. Their first goal had been to trick an evil child into killing his sister, and when that child grew up, they let him believe that he had a pack of his own, that anyone could follow him. But instead, he had to see them die around him, and he gave them life, believing that they belonged to him. Theo (the evil child in question) had ended up being just like the Dread Doctors: entitled, believing that he could treat lives as if they belonged to him, and desperate to become powerful, to achieve something great. He failed, just as the Dread Doctors succeeded and then failed, creating the Beast that would eventually die when weakened by the memories of a hunter.
Midway through the explanation, Scott's head tilts downward in thought. It's clear, somehow, that his attention remains on Giovanni. But he needs to process everything he's being told. Giovanni hadn't been the "chosen" one. He hadn't been the special one. He was meant to be one of the two saved, ultimately left behind to be experimented on until he began to lose his sense of self. Even in his narration, he refers to himself as an It.
The fact that he feels abandoned makes sense. The fact that he doesn't want to be left behind makes sense, or why he would see nothing but pain in it. When someone experiences so much of it, the trauma obscures everything else that might be immediately visible.
Scott hasn't made it a secret that one day, he'd like to go home. He knows that day will come eventually. He doesn't know if it'll come because his timeline is messed up without him, or if he'll just be given a chance, or whatever. It's hard for him to say. But he does know that it's going to home. He made that clear to Giovanni, that their bond might not last forever.
For this mission, though, Giovanni wants to give it a shot. And it makes sense that he does.
His head lifts, eyes meeting Giovanni's—or, rather, the where his eyes would be.]
I get it. [It's a short statement after all of it.] You don't want to lose yourself. Like them. Because if you do, they can't be helped. And I've helped you with that before.
[It's hard to describe the bond of the pack, but he knows that if these taraxa were responsible for the Oska destruction, then Giovanni might get hurt and might lose it in turn. It makes sense. He'll need someone to pull him back, and Scott will be able to help.
Scott closes the distance between them, extending his right hand toward Giovanni.]
I'll help you as many times as you need. While I can.
[And it's true enough, Scott's assumptions-- being left behind is all he knows, and what he sees as Heine's catastrophic betrayal has left him detached and dissociated but desperately afraid of ever forming any such connections again, expecting them only to end in violent dissolution. And thus far, he's been proven right, even if - after everything people here have said to him, after some time spent in trying to process it - he is at least beginning to see that it's different. That it isn't necessarily him his teammates were leaving behind when they transferred out.
And at least Scott has made his position clear. Has already said that he means to leave him. A warning, then, something he can try to harden himself against in advance, mentally prepare himself for. It's not ideal, perhaps, but all of this, the taxara, everything they've come to symbolise for him-- this is something that he needs to do, needs to put to rest, and chances are he'll be unable to do it alone. It would be all too easy to let himself slide the moment Kerberos rears up in him, the moment it whispers yesyesYES, go on and hit the switch. And he can't have that, here. Not this time. Not if he wants to see an end to all this.
And so when Scott advances with his hand extended, Giovanni moves to take it, shows only the most fractional of hesitations before his fingers curl around his teammate's palm. His skin feels dry, abnormally hot to the touch.]
And who knows? I might stick around for longer. Saving the multiverse means saving my mom, my friends ... I can do both. [Some part of Scott wants to do both, as he's not one to run away from responsibility. There's a part of him that wants happiness and a future. He's not opposed to that. He craves it. He just also knows that it's hard to see that when there's so much that's been left unfinished.]
But for however long it is, I'll be here for you. You can count on that. We're bonded now, you and I. Like brothers. I'll have your back, and I know you'll have mine.
[Scott knows he won't always be happy with how Giovanni has his back. But that's not new, either.]
[The words come a little wry, a little sharp, past implications rising up in him, the promise of someone he still thinks of as his brother and how it had been more than broken - shattered, obliterated - the moment Heine had torn Lily apart and left Giovanni himself there for dead. But there are other feelings in him, something sharp and hot that threatens to steal his breath, an open wound behind his ribs that he doesn't quite know how to name. Because there's something in it, even now, despite everything. Despite losses past and current, his own sense of wariness. There's still something to hearing someone say they're here for him, that they have his back, when it's a thing he's desperately longed for but never believed he can have.
He withdraws his hand, slowly. And though his heart thuds a little hard in his chest, his exterior is smooth and collected as ever.]
And that's all there is to it, as simple as that? I don't have to do...anything?
[Not that he has any idea what one would do to cement a pack bond.]
[The thudding in Giovanni's chest is hard to avoid. When it's that noticeable, he can't just shut it down, turn it off, and look away—he processes it for what it is, inhaling deeply as he accepts it. This is a big deal. Giovanni had explained every aspect of why, and Scott understands. He's never had a lack of support. Maybe it started with just his mom and Stiles, but he's always had someone there for him.
What if Theo had fully succeeded? That's the only way he has any sense of what could be different. That's the only way he'd understand Giovanni entirely.
That doesn't mean he won't try.]
No. It's more—mystical than anything, I guess. If you need me—call. Even if you're somewhere I couldn't possibly hear. I'll know. [It's all about conscious absorption into the pack, rather than someone slipping in unknown. It's always been about that, right from the very beginning, long before he was Alpha in the first place.]
[Again, there's something subtly wry in his tone, as though it's something he doesn't completely understand. What he is, it's a 'triumph' of science and technology, not a trace of mysticism to be found. But he's been here long enough to know that there are things and experiences that exist outside of the bounds of reality as he used to understand it. Is coming to accept more of it, day by day, the longer time passes and he remains with ALASTAIR.
And he wants this, to be part of something bigger than himself. He does. Regardless of whether it's something he completely comprehends. There's nothing new for him, in that.]
And would it work in reverse? Should you require my assistance?
Honestly ... not to the same degree. It's more like—[Scott tries to put it into words, knowing that he's failing.] Do you remember my howl? The one I made before. [He means when the riot started, when everything became chaotic. Scott knows Stiles could hear him. Even if he hadn't been nearby, he could hear him. But the news of the riot itself should have been enough information to clarify exactly why Scott chose to howl.
Times like that can bring about different actions and decisions.]
If I do that, you'll be able to hear it. It's more ... dependent upon that, honestly.
[Of course he does, despite the redblack haze that had descended on him in the heat of the fight, the way Kerberos had risen in him and corroded his ability to maintain control of himself. There'd been the sound of it, like something reaching down inside of him and gripping tight, shaking him loose. A moment of clattering clarity. Not something he'd easily forget because there have always been very few ways to bring a berserking Rammsteiner back under control, the only other being besides his creator he'd known to be capable of it was Heine, the very best of them.
He still doesn't really understand. But perhaps he doesn't need to.]
I see. And then, don't hesitate to use it, should you need me.
I can do that. [One of Scott's gifts as a leader is getting people to rally around him, and seeing the strengths of everyone involved. He isn't always good at being unbiased. At the heart of things, he's still human</>. He has moments where what he believes blinds him to what needs to happen.
Having his pack has been important to him. Scott can't act without them. There are times when it's hard for him to put a burden on the people around him, but he knows better than to keep them in the dark, and to suffer on alone.]
I will do that. You're as much my strength as I'm yours. Remember that.
[And Giovanni, if nothing else, is someone who knows how to carry a burden. To live with the weight of it, no matter how crushing it may become.
But the response is one that, once again, strikes a certain chord in him, leaves him with a strange bright sensation at the centre of himself which - like so many feelings - he wouldn't know how to express or explain in words. But there's a solidity to the promise, this way. Something to keep him tethered to the here and now, a small spark of purpose. Even now, so far away from that place, it's something he longs for-- to lend himself to someone else, to find a place for his loyalty to reside.
And so there's the quick beat of his heart, that bright widening feeling, at odds with the relative coolness of the exterior front he portrays. He nods, just once.]
[Knowing what he knows now, Scott understands that moving forward with Giovanni will require some delicacy. He recalls Isaac's trauma of being abused and locked in a freezer by his father, forced to deal with the punishment of being the only son who managed to live. The anger Isaac felt as a result of that was blistering, and he wanted nothing more than to be strong, to act out—because those things made him feel powerful.
In the end, it was really that he needed a place to belong.
Giovanni's experiences aren't unlike Isaac's, but they are, as well. If Isaac hadn't been freed from his father's abuse, but had continued as a werewolf, where would he be now? Where would he be without Scott to help him? The world of the supernatural was known for its violence, especially in the wake of what Gerard did to Deucalion. Scott's been lucky not to have faced something like this before, at least on this scale, but he's ready for the challenge.
He wants to help. It's not a challenge in terms of competition. It's a challenge because he wants to meet this head on. If anything, that's something that will make him stick around, to help Giovanni see that people can come and go, but the bonds still matter. Just as he had been left and it left a scar, future bonds can leave different marks.]
Good. Good. [He glances toward the door.] I think we're set for now. Check in with me after we rift in. I'll want to know where you are.
[Scott's eyes flick towards the door, and Giovanni takes the hint. Nods once, even as something tight-wound and tense seems to subtly drain from him in the wake of the conclusion to this meeting, the most fractional signs of something settling, smoothing over. As though this has taken something out of him, given him something else in return.
A sizable step, considering their recent network conversation. The decision to put this level of trust in someone, despite everything.]
I'll be sure to do that. Chances are, it'll be needed.
[Needed, because it'll be a challenge to him, he knows, to keep from giving in to the impulses that have been ingrained in him, beaten down into his bones, branded into the centre of himself. To undo all of that violence, it's going to take a good deal of effort and will and work. This much he knows.
And yet, in some respects if not all, he's willing.]
For now then, adieu.
[He turns then, heads towards the door, and there's one discernible moment of hesitation as he stands there with his hand on the knob, half-turned, as though there's something else he wishes to say. But then he turns it, exists the room. Closes the door behind him.
Thank you always has been a difficult thing to say.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I apologise sincerely for his incredibly long-winded explanation ;_;
I've told you a little of the place I'm from. Of the Below, the monsters created therein. Monsters that are thrown into death matches against others of their kind, or of earlier models considered to be failures now used as little more than canon fodder. A place where there is no room for personal connections besides allegiance to one's creator, because anything else would only end in betrayal, as we shall see.
This creator, the Professor, She was able to construct a entity of pure chaos, a veritable incarnation of violence-- the Kerberos Spine. Initial experiments intended to implant it into human hosts were of limited success-- they became more violent, more powerful certainly, but all of them ultimately lost their minds or physically mutated beyond recognition, monstrous hulking beasts that were nothing short of a horror to behold. It became clear enough that She'd need to start from the ground up, create an artificial lifeform capable of high resonance rates with the Spine and the nightmare held within it.
And so, the Rammsteiner series came into being. Again, She had varying levels of success, some more able to withstand Kerberos' corruptive influence than others. Some began to come apart at the seams, their minds slowly corroded by the thing that resided in their backs, others...failed to respond at all. But ultimately, She only ever needed one-- intended to be a Master, She would choose the best of them to connect with the original Spine, to create a being capable of controlling and commanding an army of loyal dogs, also in possession of the Spine. And when it became clear to Her which of Her creations was best suited to this task, when this specimen came to Her and requested the very thing She was offering...well. The others were no longer of any use to Her.
And so, by setting loose the beasts in their Spines, ensuring they could no longer control themselves, She set them upon one another, had them tear each other apart. This series of beings, who saw each other as siblings. Spurred them on with the promise that, should any of them survive, She would love them with all of Her heart.
[Again, the briefest of pauses, a moment to gather himself for this dark twisted episode from his own past that he's never before put into words. When he continues on, his voice is cool and detached, as though he truly were telling a story, something quite apart from himself.]
But something went wrong. The one chosen to be the Master broke free of his connection with the original Spine, with Kerberos fully awoken in him now, and descended into that sea of blood and carnage in order to tear one specific sibling apart - one of two who he had promised to save - before fleeing the facility and making his escape. And the other to whom he had extended that promise...well. He abandoned it, buried beneath the corpses of its massacred siblings. Buried, but still alive.
And just as the Professor had promised, She kept the one that lived. Even though it was faulty, had never manifested the abilities associated with the Spine. Even though it was never the one She wanted, the one least likely to succeed. And in an effort to make it match up to the prodigal son, the one that got away, it was subjected to one experiment after another until it not only manifested the abilities associated with the Spine, but surpassed them-- whilst all the others could heal from any wound bar a direct shot to the head, her remaining Rammsteiner was now able to survive even massive brain injury, was almost impossible to kill.
Only, in this too, Her creation was once again flawed. It could survive such an injury, yes, but the price was the degradation of its memories. A complete loss of self. And so, eventually, it would end up nothing more than an empty shell of itself, destined to become just another failed experiment, canon fodder, like all the rest. A fate far worse than death.
[He looks back at Scott finally. Flashes his crooked-pin smile.]
And so you see, this issue with the taxara which I'm sure you've heard about by now-- it's something I take a tad personally. A point on which I fear I won't be able to act with rationality. Hahah.
no subject
Midway through the explanation, Scott's head tilts downward in thought. It's clear, somehow, that his attention remains on Giovanni. But he needs to process everything he's being told. Giovanni hadn't been the "chosen" one. He hadn't been the special one. He was meant to be one of the two saved, ultimately left behind to be experimented on until he began to lose his sense of self. Even in his narration, he refers to himself as an It.
The fact that he feels abandoned makes sense. The fact that he doesn't want to be left behind makes sense, or why he would see nothing but pain in it. When someone experiences so much of it, the trauma obscures everything else that might be immediately visible.
Scott hasn't made it a secret that one day, he'd like to go home. He knows that day will come eventually. He doesn't know if it'll come because his timeline is messed up without him, or if he'll just be given a chance, or whatever. It's hard for him to say. But he does know that it's going to home. He made that clear to Giovanni, that their bond might not last forever.
For this mission, though, Giovanni wants to give it a shot. And it makes sense that he does.
His head lifts, eyes meeting Giovanni's—or, rather, the where his eyes would be.]
I get it. [It's a short statement after all of it.] You don't want to lose yourself. Like them. Because if you do, they can't be helped. And I've helped you with that before.
[It's hard to describe the bond of the pack, but he knows that if these taraxa were responsible for the Oska destruction, then Giovanni might get hurt and might lose it in turn. It makes sense. He'll need someone to pull him back, and Scott will be able to help.
Scott closes the distance between them, extending his right hand toward Giovanni.]
I'll help you as many times as you need. While I can.
no subject
And at least Scott has made his position clear. Has already said that he means to leave him. A warning, then, something he can try to harden himself against in advance, mentally prepare himself for. It's not ideal, perhaps, but all of this, the taxara, everything they've come to symbolise for him-- this is something that he needs to do, needs to put to rest, and chances are he'll be unable to do it alone. It would be all too easy to let himself slide the moment Kerberos rears up in him, the moment it whispers yesyesYES, go on and hit the switch. And he can't have that, here. Not this time. Not if he wants to see an end to all this.
And so when Scott advances with his hand extended, Giovanni moves to take it, shows only the most fractional of hesitations before his fingers curl around his teammate's palm. His skin feels dry, abnormally hot to the touch.]
Whilst you can, then.
no subject
But for however long it is, I'll be here for you. You can count on that. We're bonded now, you and I. Like brothers. I'll have your back, and I know you'll have mine.
[Scott knows he won't always be happy with how Giovanni has his back. But that's not new, either.]
no subject
[The words come a little wry, a little sharp, past implications rising up in him, the promise of someone he still thinks of as his brother and how it had been more than broken - shattered, obliterated - the moment Heine had torn Lily apart and left Giovanni himself there for dead. But there are other feelings in him, something sharp and hot that threatens to steal his breath, an open wound behind his ribs that he doesn't quite know how to name. Because there's something in it, even now, despite everything. Despite losses past and current, his own sense of wariness. There's still something to hearing someone say they're here for him, that they have his back, when it's a thing he's desperately longed for but never believed he can have.
He withdraws his hand, slowly. And though his heart thuds a little hard in his chest, his exterior is smooth and collected as ever.]
And that's all there is to it, as simple as that? I don't have to do...anything?
[Not that he has any idea what one would do to cement a pack bond.]
no subject
What if Theo had fully succeeded? That's the only way he has any sense of what could be different. That's the only way he'd understand Giovanni entirely.
That doesn't mean he won't try.]
No. It's more—mystical than anything, I guess. If you need me—call. Even if you're somewhere I couldn't possibly hear. I'll know. [It's all about conscious absorption into the pack, rather than someone slipping in unknown. It's always been about that, right from the very beginning, long before he was Alpha in the first place.]
no subject
[Again, there's something subtly wry in his tone, as though it's something he doesn't completely understand. What he is, it's a 'triumph' of science and technology, not a trace of mysticism to be found. But he's been here long enough to know that there are things and experiences that exist outside of the bounds of reality as he used to understand it. Is coming to accept more of it, day by day, the longer time passes and he remains with ALASTAIR.
And he wants this, to be part of something bigger than himself. He does. Regardless of whether it's something he completely comprehends. There's nothing new for him, in that.]
And would it work in reverse? Should you require my assistance?
no subject
Times like that can bring about different actions and decisions.]
If I do that, you'll be able to hear it. It's more ... dependent upon that, honestly.
no subject
[Of course he does, despite the redblack haze that had descended on him in the heat of the fight, the way Kerberos had risen in him and corroded his ability to maintain control of himself. There'd been the sound of it, like something reaching down inside of him and gripping tight, shaking him loose. A moment of clattering clarity. Not something he'd easily forget because there have always been very few ways to bring a berserking Rammsteiner back under control, the only other being besides his creator he'd known to be capable of it was Heine, the very best of them.
He still doesn't really understand. But perhaps he doesn't need to.]
I see. And then, don't hesitate to use it, should you need me.
[That's how it should work, isn't it?]
no subject
Having his pack has been important to him. Scott can't act without them. There are times when it's hard for him to put a burden on the people around him, but he knows better than to keep them in the dark, and to suffer on alone.]
I will do that. You're as much my strength as I'm yours. Remember that.
no subject
But the response is one that, once again, strikes a certain chord in him, leaves him with a strange bright sensation at the centre of himself which - like so many feelings - he wouldn't know how to express or explain in words. But there's a solidity to the promise, this way. Something to keep him tethered to the here and now, a small spark of purpose. Even now, so far away from that place, it's something he longs for-- to lend himself to someone else, to find a place for his loyalty to reside.
And so there's the quick beat of his heart, that bright widening feeling, at odds with the relative coolness of the exterior front he portrays. He nods, just once.]
I shall endeavour to.
no subject
In the end, it was really that he needed a place to belong.
Giovanni's experiences aren't unlike Isaac's, but they are, as well. If Isaac hadn't been freed from his father's abuse, but had continued as a werewolf, where would he be now? Where would he be without Scott to help him? The world of the supernatural was known for its violence, especially in the wake of what Gerard did to Deucalion. Scott's been lucky not to have faced something like this before, at least on this scale, but he's ready for the challenge.
He wants to help. It's not a challenge in terms of competition. It's a challenge because he wants to meet this head on. If anything, that's something that will make him stick around, to help Giovanni see that people can come and go, but the bonds still matter. Just as he had been left and it left a scar, future bonds can leave different marks.]
Good. Good. [He glances toward the door.] I think we're set for now. Check in with me after we rift in. I'll want to know where you are.
no subject
A sizable step, considering their recent network conversation. The decision to put this level of trust in someone, despite everything.]
I'll be sure to do that. Chances are, it'll be needed.
[Needed, because it'll be a challenge to him, he knows, to keep from giving in to the impulses that have been ingrained in him, beaten down into his bones, branded into the centre of himself. To undo all of that violence, it's going to take a good deal of effort and will and work. This much he knows.
And yet, in some respects if not all, he's willing.]
For now then, adieu.
[He turns then, heads towards the door, and there's one discernible moment of hesitation as he stands there with his hand on the knob, half-turned, as though there's something else he wishes to say. But then he turns it, exists the room. Closes the door behind him.
Thank you always has been a difficult thing to say.]