I know exactly what I'm asking. What I don't understand is why you're trying so hard to convince yourself you don't give a damn.
[But the truth is, Daud... you give many damns. You give ALL the damns.]
Nobody here doubts you're a certifiable badass, but saving a life? Saving mine? If you're so ashamed of that side of yourself, why do it in the first place?
[ He almost flinches to say the word aloud, he’s been holding it so close since that first day. ]
I didn’t tell you I led a gang. Pulled kids from the streets and trained them to become killers. For nearly twenty years this went on. We bled the city dry. Nearly caused the empire’s ruin.
[ The words are out almost before he realizes, delivered matter-of-fact with the faintest undertone of anger.
Though he falls to silence, there are questions, unspoken questions cycling through his mind: And now they're left alone to be, what, exactly?
And I offered to treat you like one, the very first moment we met. I propositioned you. You refused.
[He remembers that scene quite vividly -- in fact, he remembers them all, because Daud is memorable in nearly everything he says and does. In every irritated twitch of his brow, in every grumpy twitch of his mouth. In every word, in every breath, and in every syllable, he is authentically and unapologetically himself.
And Roy respects that. He has from the very first moment they met.]
You're a good man with a checkered background. It doesn't take away that good. It doesn't change who you are.
[Gingerly, with some awareness he could get his hand lopped off, he touches fingers to Daud's arm.]
You're human, with black and white and all that messed up gray in between -- and it's the gray that really counts in the end.
Edited (I edited a single letter because those things bother me, okay AND THEN I EDITED AGAIN FOR ACTUAL TYPOS.) 2018-06-16 04:03 (UTC)
[ He takes a step back, wary and all too conscious of the way Roy’s touch seared him, the way Roy had so easily accepted Daud's words, the way Roy's own words feel ill-fitting and poorly played.
("You're a good man with a checkered background." If he could believe that. If he could believe that, how would he be? But there’s nothing checkered about it; his past is drenched with, saturated in blood.) ]
I won’t pretend to be a good man. I’ve gone past that point.
[ All he can do now is push ahead and gather what pieces remain. Do what he’s able to keep from creating ruin once again. Or try to be no one at all. Or try to live with scarce a trace.
(“It would give you purpose, wouldn't it?” What’s the worth of purpose when it’s false and devastating? When everything falls apart?)
And what is this? This insistence on gray areas, on being human, on being - what? - flawed but acceptable? It could be that Roy thinks this is the route toward getting his way. That by assuaging Daud’s doubts, he’ll ease Daud into accepting the role of trainer.
It doesn’t sound like a ploy. Roy sounds, Roy looks to be in earnest. And maybe this is different. Maybe it’s the motivation (could it be?) that matters. But then, Roy’s skilled at persuasion. Far sharper than his antics may make him seem.
Daud feels disoriented. His head is aching. He doesn’t, he doesn’t like this. ]
I don’t see what this has to do with your training.
Edited (maybe i just wanted to join the editing party it looked like fun) 2018-06-16 04:41 (UTC)
cw: reference to violence against children / war crimes
[Something he makes no excuses for, despite his words -- the shame that flits across his feature, descends like a curtain, could not be faked.]
Even if I'm so forgone I can't see the light in front of me... I refuse to believe there's nothing in this world but shadow. I won't let that darkness overtake me again. I won't let it overtake you, either. That hand that caught me -- it was stronger than anything I've ever felt.
[Perhaps unwisely, Roy follows after that step. Raises his fist, meets Daud's gaze unwaveringly.]
It wasn't instinct, or pragmatism, or any other bullshit. You wanted to catch me. Because you wanted to be something more. You wanted to see that light too!
cw: reference to violence against children / war crimes
[ That’s it, then. Roy’s admission brings with it a sudden clarity, almost welcome amid the current chaos: This is what the man wants to avoid. Roy’s concerned about what he’ll do, what he might do if he slips into frenzy again.
Which is why he wants the training.
The deeds of a lifetime can lodge themselves deep down inside you, work you in ways beyond comprehension and control. What’s Roy’s talking about - the murder of these children - must be a part of what moves him. Must as well be connected to whatever darkness he’s discussing; something that may have lingered long before the children, something that led to and was fueled by every wretched act.
Every wretched choice.
It’d taken Daud years to learn that every action has its consequences, that those consequences matter even far beyond his self.
How he’d lived… It wasn’t being covered in darkness so much as understanding something in the wrong way. It was refusal. A refusal to see beyond the bounds of his moment and missions, his ill-crafted goals. It was letting himself become something so far that he couldn’t see beyond its edges, couldn’t see how it was limited and destined to collapse.
None of what has happened can be undone. And it isn’t Daud’s aim to be a good man. But maybe it’s possible to find another way to live. Not to erase what he’s done or been, but to become otherwise.
It isn’t anything he’s put into words before.
It seems, feels accurate.
Still distinctly uncomfortable, Daud holds his ground, doesn’t look away from Roy. ]
I’m not interested in any light. I wouldn’t put it that way.
[Reaching into the folds of his tunica, Roy pulls out a roll of parchment -- the very same one he carried with them on their fated rooftop excursion. He offers it Daud, almost like a bargaining chip. Almost like a key to the place no one else could go.
Almost like equivalent exchange, and an acknowledgment to everything that Daud has ever said or done.]
Take this first.
[And if he does, if he unrolls it, he will see that Roy has finished their map with an admirable degree of detail. Locations noted, details dotted finely as an artist could manage. Neat handwriting, helpful notes for nooks and crannies. There's still room for improvement. There's still spaces left -- perhaps purposely -- blank. Spots that belong to Daud, that he scouted himself and Roy only caught glimpses of. Perhaps he was hoping Daud would finish what they started.
Perhaps he was hoping Daud would finish it, in this and other things as well.]
[ He does unroll the scroll, cautiously, uncertain of what he’ll find.
It’s better than passable work, and Daud spends a solid couple of minutes looking over its particularities, reviewing the notes and noticing how each aspect of the map recalls its location clearly. He notices the blank spaces, as well, guesses at their purposes and doesn’t feel annoyed. This extended perusal is a testament to his regard for the work. A sign that he considers it worth his time, that he finds value in engaging with it.
And that it should be the map from that night— Daud doesn’t know how to interpret the gesture, precisely, but there’s some sense of ease in seeing it. Something that leaves him a little better able to believe Roy’s intentions.
He looks from the map to Roy, watches for a moment, then rolls the scroll again and moves to unlock the door.
If Roy follows him inside, he’ll find a room kept mostly bare, though there are pieces of parchment scattered across the open bed, along with an extra half-folded tunica or two. Across the walls can be found charcoal maps in various stages of draft form: maps of the complex, of various parts of the city. Though incomplete and accompanied by near-illegibly scrawled writing, these maps are meticulously drawn, clear representations of the places they’re meant to show. ]
[Naturally, Roy follows his lead. It's what he vowed to do from the very beginning, after all.
And as if on cue, some of his gumption drops the instant he crosses the threshold and enters Daud's abode. He bites back his nervousness, knows this would only serve to hurt the strong case he's built so far; he has to just roll with it, even acknowledging that this a major step in the right direction.
That even if the war wasn't yet won, he'd prevailed in the battle, and that had to count for something.]
Thanks.
[Hopefully he didn't sound too abashed, or look it, as he sits down and as his eyes wander aimlessly around the room. Awaiting direction, awaiting orders.]
[ Better than good, really. And he'll study it in greater detail later. For now, Daud places the scroll on the bed with the scattered parchment pieces and leans against the wall nearest Roy, once again folding his arms.
He still isn't certain what to make of this. What Roy's asking and whether it's something new, or more of the same corrosive work. Why all of this has him so wound up. Why he's permitted anyone at all to enter his room.
Better not to think. Only find the path ahead. Of course, of course. ]
If I agree to do this, I need to know you'll do exactly as I say.
[ It might, if it weren't for certain rooftop incidents. Daud's look may say as much, though he doesn't speak the thought out loud. Not after Roy's just offered the map. Not after what Roy had admitted. ]
And you're a man who has particular ideas about his individuality.
[ He does believe Roy, mostly. Believes at least that Roy wants to attend. But he's seen too much of the man's dramatics, his shifting personae, to move ahead without lingering on this detail. ]
I'm also, also a few trifling steps away from uniting an entire country beneath benevolent rule and seeing to universal justice, social equality, and economic prosperity for all people. Not just the ones at the top.
[Spreading his hands magnanimously.]
Grays, remember? But if you're just looking for an answer: yes, I can follow orders. But no, I won't follow you into inescapable darkness.
[ Grays, indeed. Daud's not sure how far he can believe Roy's claims (and why shouldn't he? the man's shown plenty of capable ambition), and it doesn't really matter at the moment. If he cares to, he can think on it later.
He does shake his head at that final remark. (Shakes his head and hears unbidden: 'You can sigh and shake your head at someone else from now on.' Feels his jaw go tense again.) ]
The point of this is to keep you from going anywhere of the kind.
[ What Roy calls the darkness is something Daud hasn't fallen prey to in years. Not since he learned to see it as impractical and separate it from himself, kept at a distance and studied only with remove. Daud has no reason to expect to fall into it again. ]
All right.
We'll work every evening, an hour starting at eight. Does that suit you.
[...he snaps to immediate, and indeed capable attention. The man who made the map with such incredible detail. The man who followed Daud so dutifully, until the instant he couldn't. The man who told him that he was good, even if every event in his life suggested exactly the opposite.
The man who looked up to him in every regard, because he sensed it, because he knew, it was all the grays that made him worth believing in.]
[ It's at once reassuring and unsettling, seeing this change in Roy. (He's seen belief like this before, or belief that matches close enough. Attentiveness to his orders, to his aims. This isn't the same thing. This isn't the same thing. But it could be, couldn't it? He doesn't want to think about it. He absolutely ought to think about it.) Unsettling as well to recall how quickly the man can fall out of it.
But the point is to keep him from doing so, isn't it? The point is to give him a way of keeping steady. Daud realizes he's been looking at and past the wall, and draws his attention back to Roy. ]
Given recent developments, there may be days I need to alter the time.
[ He doesn't like it, but there's no use ignoring the situation. Depending on who does and doesn't show for the watch, depending on who understands the basics of patrol, he may need to supervise or fill in. ]
In those cases, I'll find you or leave a note under your door.
Edited (oops html oops words oops) 2018-06-17 19:00 (UTC)
You're still looking for more men, right? For that night watch of yours. My lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, mentioned it to me. Very ambitious; dangerous, too, but that might be right up your alley. And speaking honestly, it's right up mine as well.
[Roy's eyes flicker upward, bright and full of hope. As a student surveys as a teacher, as Daud has now become. However, he's already learning all on his own: his words are coached humbly, though not to the point of outright groveling and subservience.]
If you'll have me, then count me in. Put me with my lieutenant -- and I promise you, we'll do great things.
[ Riza? He watches Roy for a long moment, then moves on, letting the pieces be what they will. (Odd, though, that the two should be connected. Or it's only odd in the moment; really, it makes as much sense as anything here. It's unexpected;that's all.) ]
Yes, for that watch of mine.
[ He lifts an eyebrow. ]
Most of the work will be monotonous. There's rarely room on patrol for 'great things.'
[Of course there are moments, could be moments where action becomes dire and deeds suddenly carry more weight. Mostly, though, it's waiting, watching, walking. ]
[ Sigh, indeed. Daud's just gonna... let that one pass for now. Pick your battles, etc. ]
I'll see that you're paired with Riza. As long as she agrees to the arrangement.
[ He mostly believes that she will, but it's no good putting two people together if they'll be in conflict the whole time. Which doesn't seem likely, but better to take care. ]
It's good you're joining.
[ He means it. And it's about as close to a compliment - 'it's good for the watch you're joining' - as Daud's willing to give right now. ]
[Which can be interpreted any number of ways, but judging from how his eyes soften -- openly ringed with affection, ever hopeful as mere moments before -- the compliment has been fully, and gratefully, returned. He's practically glowing. He's happy.
He's well. That's just the sort of man he is: one prone to lean on camaraderie, even when he probably shouldn't.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Training me, so I don't kill me, and drag those same thousands down in the process.
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Still. The bastard has a point. ]
Good to know you recognize your shortcomings.
[ Still, still. ]
You don't know what you're asking.
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[But the truth is, Daud... you give many damns. You give ALL the damns.]
Nobody here doubts you're a certifiable badass, but saving a life? Saving mine? If you're so ashamed of that side of yourself, why do it in the first place?
no subject
But really, though. Really. ]
You mistake me.
I told you I was an assassin.
[ He almost flinches to say the word aloud, he’s been holding it so close since that first day. ]
I didn’t tell you I led a gang. Pulled kids from the streets and trained them to become killers. For nearly twenty years this went on. We bled the city dry. Nearly caused the empire’s ruin.
[ The words are out almost before he realizes, delivered matter-of-fact with the faintest undertone of anger.
Though he falls to silence, there are questions, unspoken questions cycling through his mind: And now they're left alone to be, what, exactly?
And what would they have been, without me?
What would have remained unbroken? ]
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[He remembers that scene quite vividly -- in fact, he remembers them all, because Daud is memorable in nearly everything he says and does. In every irritated twitch of his brow, in every grumpy twitch of his mouth. In every word, in every breath, and in every syllable, he is authentically and unapologetically himself.
And Roy respects that. He has from the very first moment they met.]
You're a good man with a checkered background. It doesn't take away that good. It doesn't change who you are.
[Gingerly, with some awareness he could get his hand lopped off, he touches fingers to Daud's arm.]
You're human, with black and white and all that messed up gray in between -- and it's the gray that really counts in the end.
no subject
("You're a good man with a checkered background." If he could believe that. If he could believe that, how would he be? But there’s nothing checkered about it; his past is drenched with, saturated in blood.) ]
I won’t pretend to be a good man. I’ve gone past that point.
[ All he can do now is push ahead and gather what pieces remain. Do what he’s able to keep from creating ruin once again. Or try to be no one at all. Or try to live with scarce a trace.
(“It would give you purpose, wouldn't it?” What’s the worth of purpose when it’s false and devastating? When everything falls apart?)
And what is this? This insistence on gray areas, on being human, on being - what? - flawed but acceptable? It could be that Roy thinks this is the route toward getting his way. That by assuaging Daud’s doubts, he’ll ease Daud into accepting the role of trainer.
It doesn’t sound like a ploy. Roy sounds, Roy looks to be in earnest. And maybe this is different. Maybe it’s the motivation (could it be?) that matters. But then, Roy’s skilled at persuasion. Far sharper than his antics may make him seem.
Daud feels disoriented. His head is aching. He doesn’t, he doesn’t like this. ]
I don’t see what this has to do with your training.
cw: reference to violence against children / war crimes
[Something he makes no excuses for, despite his words -- the shame that flits across his feature, descends like a curtain, could not be faked.]
Even if I'm so forgone I can't see the light in front of me... I refuse to believe there's nothing in this world but shadow. I won't let that darkness overtake me again. I won't let it overtake you, either. That hand that caught me -- it was stronger than anything I've ever felt.
[Perhaps unwisely, Roy follows after that step. Raises his fist, meets Daud's gaze unwaveringly.]
It wasn't instinct, or pragmatism, or any other bullshit. You wanted to catch me. Because you wanted to be something more. You wanted to see that light too!
cw: reference to violence against children / war crimes
Which is why he wants the training.
The deeds of a lifetime can lodge themselves deep down inside you, work you in ways beyond comprehension and control. What’s Roy’s talking about - the murder of these children - must be a part of what moves him. Must as well be connected to whatever darkness he’s discussing; something that may have lingered long before the children, something that led to and was fueled by every wretched act.
Every wretched choice.
It’d taken Daud years to learn that every action has its consequences, that those consequences matter even far beyond his self.
How he’d lived… It wasn’t being covered in darkness so much as understanding something in the wrong way. It was refusal. A refusal to see beyond the bounds of his moment and missions, his ill-crafted goals. It was letting himself become something so far that he couldn’t see beyond its edges, couldn’t see how it was limited and destined to collapse.
None of what has happened can be undone. And it isn’t Daud’s aim to be a good man. But maybe it’s possible to find another way to live. Not to erase what he’s done or been, but to become otherwise.
It isn’t anything he’s put into words before.
It seems, feels accurate.
Still distinctly uncomfortable, Daud holds his ground, doesn’t look away from Roy. ]
I’m not interested in any light. I wouldn’t put it that way.
But your words aren’t lost on me.
[ He nods toward his door, a stiff gesture. ]
Come inside.
no subject
[Reaching into the folds of his tunica, Roy pulls out a roll of parchment -- the very same one he carried with them on their fated rooftop excursion. He offers it Daud, almost like a bargaining chip. Almost like a key to the place no one else could go.
Almost like equivalent exchange, and an acknowledgment to everything that Daud has ever said or done.]
Take this first.
[And if he does, if he unrolls it, he will see that Roy has finished their map with an admirable degree of detail. Locations noted, details dotted finely as an artist could manage. Neat handwriting, helpful notes for nooks and crannies. There's still room for improvement. There's still spaces left -- perhaps purposely -- blank. Spots that belong to Daud, that he scouted himself and Roy only caught glimpses of. Perhaps he was hoping Daud would finish what they started.
Perhaps he was hoping Daud would finish it, in this and other things as well.]
no subject
It’s better than passable work, and Daud spends a solid couple of minutes looking over its particularities, reviewing the notes and noticing how each aspect of the map recalls its location clearly. He notices the blank spaces, as well, guesses at their purposes and doesn’t feel annoyed. This extended perusal is a testament to his regard for the work. A sign that he considers it worth his time, that he finds value in engaging with it.
And that it should be the map from that night— Daud doesn’t know how to interpret the gesture, precisely, but there’s some sense of ease in seeing it. Something that leaves him a little better able to believe Roy’s intentions.
He looks from the map to Roy, watches for a moment, then rolls the scroll again and moves to unlock the door.
If Roy follows him inside, he’ll find a room kept mostly bare, though there are pieces of parchment scattered across the open bed, along with an extra half-folded tunica or two. Across the walls can be found charcoal maps in various stages of draft form: maps of the complex, of various parts of the city. Though incomplete and accompanied by near-illegibly scrawled writing, these maps are meticulously drawn, clear representations of the places they’re meant to show. ]
Have a seat if you'd prefer.
no subject
And as if on cue, some of his gumption drops the instant he crosses the threshold and enters Daud's abode. He bites back his nervousness, knows this would only serve to hurt the strong case he's built so far; he has to just roll with it, even acknowledging that this a major step in the right direction.
That even if the war wasn't yet won, he'd prevailed in the battle, and that had to count for something.]
Thanks.
[Hopefully he didn't sound too abashed, or look it, as he sits down and as his eyes wander aimlessly around the room. Awaiting direction, awaiting orders.]
no subject
[ Better than good, really. And he'll study it in greater detail later. For now, Daud places the scroll on the bed with the scattered parchment pieces and leans against the wall nearest Roy, once again folding his arms.
He still isn't certain what to make of this. What Roy's asking and whether it's something new, or more of the same corrosive work. Why all of this has him so wound up. Why he's permitted anyone at all to enter his room.
Better not to think. Only find the path ahead. Of course, of course. ]
If I agree to do this, I need to know you'll do exactly as I say.
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[Doesn't that say enough in itself?]
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And you're a man who has particular ideas about his individuality.
[ He does believe Roy, mostly. Believes at least that Roy wants to attend. But he's seen too much of the man's dramatics, his shifting personae, to move ahead without lingering on this detail. ]
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Well, I'm also an assassin. And I did bring down an entire empire -- just not single-handedly.
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My point exactly.
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[Spreading his hands magnanimously.]
Grays, remember? But if you're just looking for an answer: yes, I can follow orders. But no, I won't follow you into inescapable darkness.
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He does shake his head at that final remark. (Shakes his head and hears unbidden: 'You can sigh and shake your head at someone else from now on.' Feels his jaw go tense again.) ]
The point of this is to keep you from going anywhere of the kind.
[ What Roy calls the darkness is something Daud hasn't fallen prey to in years. Not since he learned to see it as impractical and separate it from himself, kept at a distance and studied only with remove. Daud has no reason to expect to fall into it again. ]
All right.
We'll work every evening, an hour starting at eight. Does that suit you.
no subject
Sir.
[...he snaps to immediate, and indeed capable attention. The man who made the map with such incredible detail. The man who followed Daud so dutifully, until the instant he couldn't. The man who told him that he was good, even if every event in his life suggested exactly the opposite.
The man who looked up to him in every regard, because he sensed it, because he knew, it was all the grays that made him worth believing in.]
no subject
But the point is to keep him from doing so, isn't it? The point is to give him a way of keeping steady. Daud realizes he's been looking at and past the wall, and draws his attention back to Roy. ]
Given recent developments, there may be days I need to alter the time.
[ He doesn't like it, but there's no use ignoring the situation. Depending on who does and doesn't show for the watch, depending on who understands the basics of patrol, he may need to supervise or fill in. ]
In those cases, I'll find you or leave a note under your door.
no subject
You're still looking for more men, right? For that night watch of yours. My lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, mentioned it to me. Very ambitious; dangerous, too, but that might be right up your alley. And speaking honestly, it's right up mine as well.
[Roy's eyes flicker upward, bright and full of hope. As a student surveys as a teacher, as Daud has now become. However, he's already learning all on his own: his words are coached humbly, though not to the point of outright groveling and subservience.]
If you'll have me, then count me in. Put me with my lieutenant -- and I promise you, we'll do great things.
no subject
Yes, for that watch of mine.
[ He lifts an eyebrow. ]
Most of the work will be monotonous. There's rarely room on patrol for 'great things.'
[Of course there are moments, could be moments where action becomes dire and deeds suddenly carry more weight. Mostly, though, it's waiting, watching, walking. ]
I won't say we couldn't use you or your skills.
So long as we're clear.
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[He seems serious about it... however, there's also a certain twinkle in his gaze that hints at his usual mischief. Sigh.]
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I'll see that you're paired with Riza. As long as she agrees to the arrangement.
[ He mostly believes that she will, but it's no good putting two people together if they'll be in conflict the whole time. Which doesn't seem likely, but better to take care. ]
It's good you're joining.
[ He means it. And it's about as close to a compliment - 'it's good for the watch you're joining' - as Daud's willing to give right now. ]
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[Which can be interpreted any number of ways, but judging from how his eyes soften -- openly ringed with affection, ever hopeful as mere moments before -- the compliment has been fully, and gratefully, returned. He's practically glowing. He's happy.
He's well. That's just the sort of man he is: one prone to lean on camaraderie, even when he probably shouldn't.]
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