#but your muse will have a fking heart attack kjdhsdsjdf
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' ━Ah, so that's your brand new hiding place. '
A pair of familiar, inadvisable shoes seemingly materializes out of thin air. There's a grin on the man's face as he bends down to eye level, red hues exploring the hiding space his stray snuck in and slowly turning on the side of incredulous concern.
' How in the hell did ya managed to get in here? You're taller than me, and almost as bulk, too! Only someone like Brother Hanu could get cramped in here, and even he... '
They both know how. the Enigma doesn't answer him, limiting himself into quietly staring at his adoptive father as the playfulness in his voice disappears.
' One of these days, huh? ' A sigh. ' Come on- scoot over, 'm coming in. '
There's a long pause. Kaeya doesn't move- but he resumes speaking, a tad on the side of incredulous.
' Dad... It's too big for both of us, We'll both be stuck if you come in. '
' That so? ' The man named Gallagher sighs with relief, chuckling in the same breath. ' Right. Would have been worth a shot, though- look who's speaking again. '
It rips a chuckle out of him, for the way it always works- his dad is never afraid to do something scandalously funny to shock him out of overthinking. This includes trying to reach for him in a small, battered metal closet.
Sometimes, it's just a thing that needs to be done.
There's a can of something similiar to SoulGlad in violet-hued fingers, the comfortable silence, and his father's leg pressed against his as they sit with their backs on the wall.
A drop of condensation comes in contact with his thumb, unfelt. This is where Enigma breaks the silence.
' Dad... '
He hesitates, a million questions in his mind. He picks the closest one, reels the others in.
' This feeling of emptiness... when will it stop? I thought it was going to go away on his own, but it never did. Never does. '
There's an awry sound coming from his side. ' Hard to say, ' he starts, the movement that turns his face into a small grimace of sympathy. ' 'm kinda afraid that you put yourself into a bad situation, kid. '
' I did? '
' Yup. This... ' He gestures at Kaeya entirely, careful, ' avatar that you took, the one you told me belongs to your friend... you're really not supposed to do that. Take his looks, I mean- it just makes everything more complicated than it needs to be. Adds a whole lot of weight where there shouldn't be. Kinda jumbles everything that should be simple... '
His dad trails off, irises taking on the looks of his stray without the irony shining in his eyes.
' You still haven't told me why ya picked him, out of all traits you could have taken. Of the amalgamate you coulda been. '
No- no, he has not. The reason only makes sense in his brain, only tie together when Kaeya Alberich has been in the life of someone for a while. And Kaeya Alberich never got to know his father at all.
His mouth opens, words lost. Impostor closes it, opens it again, shakes his head almost helplessly, the faint buzz of confusion starting behind his eyes before a warm hand ruffles his hair, stays in place over mussled cobalt locks.
' Don't sweat it, ' the man that is his father tells him, a lopsided grin on his face. ' As long as it makes sense to you, it's alright. You gotta solve this emptiness thing yourself- I can't help you much, here. '
A few pats on his dusty behind, and his dad is up and going again. Kaeya shakes his head at the hand being offered to him, signaling that he'd like to be alone and in here a little longer.
' You gotta be glad we have a lotta time to think about stuff, no? 'is the last thing he tells Kaeya before he's out, leaving a wink and the bark of a laughter behind.
and a cold can of soda, untouched.
The hut is empty. There's nobody else but him, and the unheartly silence of the abandoned planet hs picked as his residence.
Kaeya's digits follow the jagged edges of his newest wound, a gaping hole where pale diamond should be. The skin has been broken like porcelaine, long cobalt strands trying to hide the lack of eye and the emptiness where skull and human gore should be.
Gray materia floats around his head, trying to recompose him and shoo his fingers, foreign, cold objects, away from the problem. But the wound is fresh, terribly big, and the effort requires an addictional component to speed up the healing factor.
The surviving eye is as faulty as the one he took from Kaeya Alberich: all he sees are shadows dancing out of his reach, the blurry, darkened form of the table, the chairs, the kitchenette and the items he so loves to decorate having become hostile obstacles he has to avoid.
In the corner of the main room, there are two big tanks of the liquid coming from the Misty Sea- it's what he needs to fix the missing side of his head.
It's what he needs. A few steps ahead, and he'll close his digits around the neck of one. Feel around the tab in the bathub, plug it in, and pour.
Simple actions to restore himself.
But he thinks. And thinks. And he can't do this.
He can't do this.
He just can't do this.
He can't move.
But he has to.
The next minutes, perhaps hours, perhaps days, are a blur. All he knows is that, when he comes to some sort of consciousness again, his fingers are still tight around the plastic neck of a much lighter tank, the smell of the restoring liquid is right under his nose. His location seems to have changed.
Kaeya doesn't remember doing all this. All that he knows is that the ceramic of the bathub is so wonderfully cold and grounding against his warm, cracked skin, and he doesn't want to move. He has no will to, but something in his body has reacted to try and make him fix himself.
But he can't do it. His legs feel like lead, like cement.
He can't do it.
He wants to.
But he just can't do it.
Triumph and progress feeds people with some sort of frenzy, an injection of adrenaline putting them on top of the world, wanting to shout to look at them! They can accomplish ANYTHING!
But he isn't a person. It makes sense that the little energy he had after completing his mission has oozed out of him from the gaping wound.
An injury won't kill him- simply slow him down. His dad and mentor said that he has all the time in the world to do what he needs and wants to do, figure out when the emptiness ends.
Today, it doesn't. It presses him against the cold surface, and he's happy to allow his heavy body to surrender, letting his warmth disperse over it.
He can stay like this for a bit. He did what he had to do, and now it's time for him to give in to exhaustion. Just for a little bit of time, just for a small nap.
With the part of his forehead that can still feel, Kaeya curls against the side of cold marble, and lets his eyelid fall shut over the mocking of shadows dancing just out of his reach.
Maybe the emptiness never goes away. But I can rest for a bit... just for a little bit... and then I'll be good to go.
Just for a little bit...
#from another realm ━ (ooc)#riddle me this; is everything that you remember real and nothing but the pure truth? ━ (H:SR V.)#you no longer know me; shrouded in the fog of mystery ━ (H:SR V. Headcanons)#the cute bit of supportive gallag.her won't save you from the sad underneath : )#when kae.yas body tries to heal him and force him to move but hes so mentally out of it and exhausted that he blocks out doing stuff#warning that this is kind of sad#i painted it as him being alone but its ok if a muse wants to find him like this! a aftermath can be plotted... as a treat#but your muse will have a fking heart attack kjdhsdsjdf#imagine traveling with him for a while then you leave and come back to this scene#and get reminded that he may as well not be human but he sure is tired and experiences a lot... HOOO BOY does he experience a lot.#could be hurt/comfort could be angst... could be the reveal that even if he isn't human and is super reliable he has moments when hes tired#too tired to fix himself and too tired to keep going. no sense of accomplishment. no triumph#just a wound and something sad chaining him down. and he has NEVER felt this empty and tired and human before#body horror ;;#repetition ;;
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