#rayney's escaped archive containment

[well-look-at-this]

Contending with You

a/n: this is probably a structural mess but wtv no beta we die like a wet rat. i have not seriously written long-form prose in who KNOWS how long lol but the demons got me tonight. i seriously need to know how to change the font on tumblr,,, times new roman i miss you,,,

@person8789 i finished this with cater just for you lmfao enjoy

summary: a depressing ramble-y character study on twisted wonderland characters will likely do more in the future :) if you want to discuss or expand or seek clarification on anything come to my ask box!!! do it!!!

includes: Idia, Azul, Ruggie, Cater

Thinking about Idia and his isolation. Raised in a lab where everything is valued under efficacy and logic. How the only human thing in his life was a little brother, lost and replaced with a mechanical perversion. A snapshot of his perception, ultimately a gaping wound in its unchanging existence as everything moves on around it. Thinking about Idia and his genius; how he lacks the social exposure to really understand how different he is–but he feels it anyway every time someone tries to really talk to him–and how he’ll never really be able to feel understood or connected. Thinking about how he surrounds himself with cold logical machines and only speaks to his robotic brother. Who dismisses anything not categorized as his expect behavior; never straying from his coding. Thinking about how Idia Shroud is less man and more machine.

Thinking about how Azul is trapped. Bullied for things that were never true and things that shouldn’t have mattered. Child of divorce–he learned young the faults with emotional attachment; always make sure you get it on paper. People let you down, and they’ll take more than is theirs did his dad ever say goodbye? I guess it’s a good thing he was young enough that a good replacement could fill that void. Talent for mental arithmetic; how long has he been counting? Calories, kilograms and grades–quantifiable achievements he makes but are just never quite enough. Thinking of his only close friends and how he trusts them transactionally as well–one day they won’t find me amusing anymore and they’ll leave, that’s just the fact of the matter–but he trusts them because he can expect the way it ends. Thinking about how he calculates his losses like controlling the pain can make it hurt less. Thinking about how he’s changed so much, but in his head he’s still the scared wounded kid being jeered at and always will be no matter how much he achieves and disproves it. Thinking about how Azul Ashengrotto can’t see himself as anything more than what they told him he could be.

Thinking about Ruggie and the things he carries. Thinking about cracked lips in savannah wasteland heat and being another set of barely fed bones in the bunch. About learning young to kill the things that won’t keep you fed; morals you need that wallet more than them, pride shove the bile down what’s a couple bruises if it means you get to eat, safety you’re already on the knives edge. Thinking about him becoming familiar with death far too much far too young. Funerals like morning weather, keep moving, if you stop it’s over just another body forgotten by lunch. Thinking about how despite everything he still cares too much. Comfortably fed at school and still working jobs every free minute so maybe one less kid starves back home. Unashamedly cozying up to the biggest predator in the ring in the hopes of scraps. Staying with a smile when the beast nearly kills you, and he’s left with a glower instead of an apology. But it didn’t matter, ruggie expects every day could be his last so it never really bothered him. Thinking of Ruggie Bucchi; the dead man walking.

Thinking about Cater’s absence. How he’s always there in the center of the crowd but never in the room. Thinking about all the pieces that got left behind with every new school and old house. How nobody was around to notice it. Sister’s too interested in making him what they wanted to see. Leaving behind everything that hurts, figuring out how to not really care. Thinking about how he hates a found family trope because he can never have it. Even if he did he’d rather not, he’s too tired of the moving on and forgetting with every fizzeled out friendship. Thinking about being so good at what people want you to be you’ve made magic out of it. Everyone’s favorite senior Cater. So many different caters and no way to tell which is real. If people think you’re shallow they’ll leave you alone, they won’t try to know you and they won’t care. Who barely even knows who he is anymore himself. Thinking about Cater five years from nrc who’s forgotten Heartslabyul in every way that matters and didn’t stay in touch. Who carved out too much and left himself hollow and brittle. Thinking of Cater Diamond the What’s Her Face doll.

[well-look-at-this]

love having a graveyard job where the depressing author mania can hit at 2am. 3 characters deep so far does anyone want this?

UPDATE: it's been posted, my new writing tag is #rayney's escaped archive containment