[No video, but his voice tells her he's leaning a little closer to the tablet as he imagines her face. To imagine it twisting and breaking is a delight. He feels wonderfully in control.]
Self-sacrifice? Getting to be hurt and feel noble about it? Letting go of your tragic little life to give it to someone else? That's your thing, as you might put it. I know why you've let me feed on you for so long.
[ There's a very physical pain to go along with the emotional now, and not just because Angel is biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. The nausea and the ache in her chest silence her for just a second too long to be natural as she gathers herself.
Her voice is, naturally, still even and calm. She's pretty sure it's fooling no one, though. ]
I let you feed on me because I love you. And trust you, for that matter. There isn't really any nobility to be found in being a human poptart, particularly in a scenario where you eat me before getting to know me.
Maybe. [He sounds casual, but there's no mistaking the edge of pleasure in his voice. The idea that he'd end up apologizing for this feels remote, unreal; right now, as he is, it's an ungodly delight to know he's able to take someone apart like this.]
But then maybe this is a testimony to how bad you are at choosing the people you love and trust. First Jack, then me, and Rhys with his endless needs - are you sure you don't just want people for whom you can bleed?
[ It should sound mocking, parroting his response like that, but it just comes out hollow. He's probably right, after all, at least on some level. ]
That doesn't mean I'm wrong to trust them, though. Jack I'll give you, but not Rhys. Or you, since this is hardly going to be permanent. I assume that's why you're throwing this tantrum? Like a child who knows it's bedtime soon.
[That stings. Beckett makes a faint starting-engine noise in the back of his throat. An angry starting engine. The power balance is supposed to be one way in this conversation.]
That, my dear, is where you miss the point of this exercise. I may not be permanently inclined to voice these feelings, but let me assure you, in some form, they are always there. Nothing has been really changed in me, beyond the degree to which I desire to deny my nature.
[ The noise Beckett makes might be kind of scary, but Angel pounces on it anyway. Anger is weakness, and weaknesses are things you exploit in smug sons-of-witches with horribly barbed tongues. ]
Mmmhmm. Well, you've told me before, haven't you? It's okay to have the potential for badness in your blood. What really matters is making the choice not to be that person, and it's pretty obvious that you - the real you - has made that choice.
It's kinda cute. To think you have enough love for me to stamp down asshole urges of this magnitude. You're gonna get so many hugs when you're back to normal.
[Oh, she's good - for a mortal, maybe, but she's good. Has she learned it from him? He'd like to think so, except he remembers what pile of tooth-rotting goo he turns into in her presence. Disgusting. With the Beast so close to the surface, his anger mounts exponentially.]
I'm sure I will. And every time you hug me, you'll know that somewhere in his mind, the man you are giving love and blood to thinks of you as a silly scrap of flesh. Oh, he chooses not to act on it, but choices, unlike nature, can be unmade.
Except it isn't quite like that, is it? You can't choose to not love me, and that wins out over anything your nature tells you. So I'll never just be a silly scrap of flesh, you doof.
[ If a tone of voice could reach through the network and pinch Beckett's cheeks indulgently, that's what would be happening right now. It might be a little much, but she's going to keep pushing anyway. ]
And you know I'm right, I assume. Even if your current state doesn't allow for those feelings, you're aware that they existed and will exist again soon enough. Sucks to be you, I guess - but if you need a shoulder to cry on, mine is available.
[ hello douchebeckett would u like fries with ur mercy/grace combo meal ]
[The tone of voice reaches through the network and works over Beckett's spine like a letter opener. He's going to have to kill her, isn't he? He'll regret it later, of course, but perhaps the satisfaction would last a while...]
You tell yourself that, child, you tell yourself your love is enough to always hold back the beast, that if you just love someone enough you can change the monster they are. But I'll also remember how much easier and clearer everything is without those feelings. Don't think I won't.
Oh, because having things be easy and clear is so important to you. Plus easier doesn't always mean better. Think of it like eating stale mass-manufactured cookies versus warm gooey home-made ones, if it helps.
[ She'd probably be laying on the patronising attitude a little less thickly if she knew what Beckett was thinking. Alas. As things are, managing to turn this conversation around so neatly is leaving her slightly giddy. ]
You shouldn't be thinking of yourself as a monster, either. Even right now. I've seen enough monsters to know you aren't one.
[How is she twisting him around like this? Despite himself a low rumble starts in Beckett's chest. Animal. Dangerous. If he had something in front of him right now to let the Beast out on he'd have gone for it. But he's stuck speaking to the damn girl through a damn machine. It's insufferable.]
You think you know who and what I am because you've seen me here? That all I ever was is the pathetic wreck that's attached himself to you like you can give him absolution? I've lived centuries, and killed hundreds! [And that won't change in a few days' time, which right now is a relished thought.] You only like to ignore it, because what does loving a monster make you?
I don't ignore it any more than I ignore the deaths I'm responsible for. We've both done bad things, but that doesn't make us monsters.
[ There's scorn in that last word, but it's dulled by the reminder of the most recent crop of casualties she's caused. Sure, it isn't the same as when she was following Jack's instructions back on Pandora, but still. Breaking open the tablets again was her idea, and the fallout is her responsibility.
Now isn't the time for self-flagellation, though. She's busy. ]
I may not know big chunks of your past, but I know you now. The, uh, real you. Not the half-finished version you are at the moment. So yes, I think that counts as knowing you. Pretty well, I'd say.
That's a nice fine distinction you're making, girl. Your lie to yourself just as well as your father.
[If she can shoot low - and calling him half-finished is low, even if he suspects she doesn't quite know how much - then he can shoot lower. Watch him.]
I am a monster and I like it. The man you know is a pathetic excuse for a Cainite. When this is over you just ask him if he'd not have preferred this freedom to the supposed love he has for you!
[His voice is slipping, first his accent - the rugged Scouse might be comical under other conditions - then the rest of his careful diction, into snarling. The veneer of civilization, going bit by bit.]
[ That's hardly the point, and blurting it out sounds horribly childish, but. She's been doing well. She can keep this up, it's fine. She's fine.
The change in Beckett's voice is a welcome jolt away from any nasty Jack-related thoughts, anyway. Suddenly, though, hearing him losing it doesn't make her feel giddy or accomplished. She isn't scared as such, but the snarling is enough to make her profoundly uneasy despite the distance between them. ]
And if he-- you actually preferred being this way, then you'd have behaved like this before now. You're just lashing out like a freaking child because you know I'm right, and nothing you do or say while you're like this will mean anything because I'll still love you!
[And there it is, said and said. He doesn't even think about it. He knows that if he follows through on that threat, his future-self - the self that loves her - will never recover, but the thought pleases him in its twisted way. He hates the man he will be. He wants to break him.]
And you know I can - yes, you know I can, because you trust me. I'm not a bad liar myself!
[And if he can't break him by killing her, cracking them both by breaking that trust will do.]
Of course I know you can kill me. I'm small and fragile. Quark could take me if he was determined enough.
[ She really isn't as good at the sneering tone of voice as Beckett is. It doesn't help that she's a little shaken - even though she's painfully aware that this isn't the Beckett she knows, not really, it's still heart-clenchingly horrible to hear his voice saying things like that. ]
But I know you won't. Not even now. It's a big town with no shortage of places to avoid you, so. So eat shit.
[ A grown adult really shouldn't want to follow that up by sticking out her tongue, AND YET ]
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 08:08 pm (UTC)[No video, but his voice tells her he's leaning a little closer to the tablet as he imagines her face. To imagine it twisting and breaking is a delight. He feels wonderfully in control.]
Self-sacrifice? Getting to be hurt and feel noble about it? Letting go of your tragic little life to give it to someone else? That's your thing, as you might put it. I know why you've let me feed on you for so long.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 08:24 pm (UTC)Her voice is, naturally, still even and calm. She's pretty sure it's fooling no one, though. ]
I let you feed on me because I love you. And trust you, for that matter. There isn't really any nobility to be found in being a human poptart, particularly in a scenario where you eat me before getting to know me.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 08:39 pm (UTC)But then maybe this is a testimony to how bad you are at choosing the people you love and trust. First Jack, then me, and Rhys with his endless needs - are you sure you don't just want people for whom you can bleed?
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 08:50 pm (UTC)[ It should sound mocking, parroting his response like that, but it just comes out hollow. He's probably right, after all, at least on some level. ]
That doesn't mean I'm wrong to trust them, though. Jack I'll give you, but not Rhys. Or you, since this is hardly going to be permanent. I assume that's why you're throwing this tantrum? Like a child who knows it's bedtime soon.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 09:06 pm (UTC)That, my dear, is where you miss the point of this exercise. I may not be permanently inclined to voice these feelings, but let me assure you, in some form, they are always there. Nothing has been really changed in me, beyond the degree to which I desire to deny my nature.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 09:20 pm (UTC)Mmmhmm. Well, you've told me before, haven't you? It's okay to have the potential for badness in your blood. What really matters is making the choice not to be that person, and it's pretty obvious that you - the real you - has made that choice.
It's kinda cute. To think you have enough love for me to stamp down asshole urges of this magnitude. You're gonna get so many hugs when you're back to normal.
[ WHO SOUNDS SMUG NOW, PUNK ]
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 09:33 pm (UTC)I'm sure I will. And every time you hug me, you'll know that somewhere in his mind, the man you are giving love and blood to thinks of you as a silly scrap of flesh. Oh, he chooses not to act on it, but choices, unlike nature, can be unmade.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-12 10:10 pm (UTC)[ If a tone of voice could reach through the network and pinch Beckett's cheeks indulgently, that's what would be happening right now. It might be a little much, but she's going to keep pushing anyway. ]
And you know I'm right, I assume. Even if your current state doesn't allow for those feelings, you're aware that they existed and will exist again soon enough. Sucks to be you, I guess - but if you need a shoulder to cry on, mine is available.
[
hello douchebeckett would u like fries with ur mercy/grace combo meal]no subject
Date: 2017-07-15 07:01 pm (UTC)You tell yourself that, child, you tell yourself your love is enough to always hold back the beast, that if you just love someone enough you can change the monster they are. But I'll also remember how much easier and clearer everything is without those feelings. Don't think I won't.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-15 07:40 pm (UTC)[ She'd probably be laying on the patronising attitude a little less thickly if she knew what Beckett was thinking. Alas. As things are, managing to turn this conversation around so neatly is leaving her slightly giddy. ]
You shouldn't be thinking of yourself as a monster, either. Even right now. I've seen enough monsters to know you aren't one.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-18 07:10 pm (UTC)You think you know who and what I am because you've seen me here? That all I ever was is the pathetic wreck that's attached himself to you like you can give him absolution? I've lived centuries, and killed hundreds! [And that won't change in a few days' time, which right now is a relished thought.] You only like to ignore it, because what does loving a monster make you?
no subject
Date: 2017-07-18 07:28 pm (UTC)[ There's scorn in that last word, but it's dulled by the reminder of the most recent crop of casualties she's caused. Sure, it isn't the same as when she was following Jack's instructions back on Pandora, but still. Breaking open the tablets again was her idea, and the fallout is her responsibility.
Now isn't the time for self-flagellation, though. She's busy. ]
I may not know big chunks of your past, but I know you now. The, uh, real you. Not the half-finished version you are at the moment. So yes, I think that counts as knowing you. Pretty well, I'd say.
no subject
Date: 2017-07-18 07:51 pm (UTC)[If she can shoot low - and calling him half-finished is low, even if he suspects she doesn't quite know how much - then he can shoot lower. Watch him.]
I am a monster and I like it. The man you know is a pathetic excuse for a Cainite. When this is over you just ask him if he'd not have preferred this freedom to the supposed love he has for you!
[His voice is slipping, first his accent - the rugged Scouse might be comical under other conditions - then the rest of his careful diction, into snarling. The veneer of civilization, going bit by bit.]
no subject
Date: 2017-07-18 08:09 pm (UTC)[ That's hardly the point, and blurting it out sounds horribly childish, but. She's been doing well. She can keep this up, it's fine. She's fine.
The change in Beckett's voice is a welcome jolt away from any nasty Jack-related thoughts, anyway. Suddenly, though, hearing him losing it doesn't make her feel giddy or accomplished. She isn't scared as such, but the snarling is enough to make her profoundly uneasy despite the distance between them. ]
And if he-- you actually preferred being this way, then you'd have behaved like this before now. You're just lashing out like a freaking child because you know I'm right, and nothing you do or say while you're like this will mean anything because I'll still love you!
no subject
Date: 2017-07-21 12:08 pm (UTC)[And there it is, said and said. He doesn't even think about it. He knows that if he follows through on that threat, his future-self - the self that loves her - will never recover, but the thought pleases him in its twisted way. He hates the man he will be. He wants to break him.]
And you know I can - yes, you know I can, because you trust me. I'm not a bad liar myself!
[And if he can't break him by killing her, cracking them both by breaking that trust will do.]
no subject
Date: 2017-07-21 12:25 pm (UTC)[ She really isn't as good at the sneering tone of voice as Beckett is. It doesn't help that she's a little shaken - even though she's painfully aware that this isn't the Beckett she knows, not really, it's still heart-clenchingly horrible to hear his voice saying things like that. ]
But I know you won't. Not even now. It's a big town with no shortage of places to avoid you, so. So eat shit.
[ A grown adult really shouldn't want to follow that up by sticking out her tongue, AND YET ]