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+--- Thread: AW First to Thine Own Self (/showthread.php?tid=11520)
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RE: First to Thine Own Self - Nate - 5/20/2026
Nate'd thought about singing. He hadn't had the heart for it then, maybe that was a failing, too.
He'd thought about fighting, but he was tired of being a soldier.
He'd wanted to help, and he hadn't cared about the risk. Or maybe he had, maybe, in a way, Cecil was right to worry, but...
Nate shut his eyes against tears. Swallowed hard, and held his breath. Hearing someone say it out loud — hearing Cecil say it, that Nate was afraid, not a passive witness to the terror of others, but a participant, the same as all the rest—
Maybe he wasn't as settled in this third chance at life as he'd hoped himself to be. Shaking his head, Nate struggled again to find words. Where was the condemnation? For arrogance, if nothing else, hadn't he earned it?
Lightheadedness forced an inhale. He cracked open his eyes,
I—
Cecil claimed fear and Nate's racing thoughts ran the trail of hypotheticals where their positions were reversed. Where Cecil was the regimental, where Nate had done no wrong. But it was easy to forgive. He knew Cecil, maybe not in every way, but enough — was certain they were a good folk. That their mistakes or secret shames wouldn't undo that in Nate's eyes.
With Nate, though, the situation was different. He was — different. Cecil didn't know the whole of him and it felt shameful, sinful even, to have tricked them into thinking Nate was better than he was.
The idea of accepting forgiveness, or even abstinence from judgement, tugged at something angry deep inside. He struggled to tamp it down. Jaw clenched.
Was that arrogance, too?
Maybe pride was Nate's real flaw. Some crippled ugly thing that had no right to stand tall like it did in moments of such immense shortcoming.
RE: First to Thine Own Self - Tsídii - 5/20/2026
Cecil drew a step closer, before they could talk themself out of it. Every scrap of sense they had told them not to- remembered in vivid clarity the fire, and the warm touch of Nate's muzzle on their shoulder. Felt like some sort of offense, to draw so near to him again without permission, now that their thoughts weren't colored with the desperation of watching him disappear into the Earth.
Only there was nothing else but to do it.
Another step, careful not to touch. They knew by now how to avoid spooking a horse- Nate was an altogether different matter, one knotted up too tightly to even begin to untangle without aid of a knife. And Cecil's every cut in the matter had harmed more than it'd helped.
Of course it had. They were half the reason he was put here, after all, half the guilt that kept him coming back. And the worst part still was they couldn't find their own remorse for it. A worse admission than anything he could say- 'cause they knew what they were doing, and had done it anyway.
This was what they'd wanted, weren't it? They knew by now nothing done by their own hand could be perfect or clean, but maybe... there could be some manner of relief in the bloodletting.
"I didn't join the army." And maybe nothing they'd done could compare to that kind of hurt, and maybe they should've resented him, but the truth was that men did wrong thinking they were doing right and if it weren't him it'd be someone else ground under America's wheels. "It don't mean I ain't done things that ought not to be forgiven."
Nate's jaw clenched. Cecil wanted to bare it, to prove in some sick way they were capable of cruelties just as he were, like any man- but they had done wrong with the knowledge of it, and fear stole the words from their tongue.
"We died," they said. "People, like me in all the ways that should've mattered- they looked me in the eyes, shook my hand, still decided I was somethin' to be exterminated. Ain't that as bad as it gets?"
It had been... impersonal, all in all. But Cecil knew why it'd happened, and whether it was face to face or from a distance turned out not to matter at all when it came to those things.
"The worst happened. I keep thinkin'... shouldn't we be all right, now? What's left out there to be scared of?"
Then laughed, a little. "Plenty, turns out." And their eyes turned back towards him. "Why?"
Only there was nothing else but to do it.
Another step, careful not to touch. They knew by now how to avoid spooking a horse- Nate was an altogether different matter, one knotted up too tightly to even begin to untangle without aid of a knife. And Cecil's every cut in the matter had harmed more than it'd helped.
Of course it had. They were half the reason he was put here, after all, half the guilt that kept him coming back. And the worst part still was they couldn't find their own remorse for it. A worse admission than anything he could say- 'cause they knew what they were doing, and had done it anyway.
This was what they'd wanted, weren't it? They knew by now nothing done by their own hand could be perfect or clean, but maybe... there could be some manner of relief in the bloodletting.
"I didn't join the army." And maybe nothing they'd done could compare to that kind of hurt, and maybe they should've resented him, but the truth was that men did wrong thinking they were doing right and if it weren't him it'd be someone else ground under America's wheels. "It don't mean I ain't done things that ought not to be forgiven."
Nate's jaw clenched. Cecil wanted to bare it, to prove in some sick way they were capable of cruelties just as he were, like any man- but they had done wrong with the knowledge of it, and fear stole the words from their tongue.
"We died," they said. "People, like me in all the ways that should've mattered- they looked me in the eyes, shook my hand, still decided I was somethin' to be exterminated. Ain't that as bad as it gets?"
It had been... impersonal, all in all. But Cecil knew why it'd happened, and whether it was face to face or from a distance turned out not to matter at all when it came to those things.
"The worst happened. I keep thinkin'... shouldn't we be all right, now? What's left out there to be scared of?"
Then laughed, a little. "Plenty, turns out." And their eyes turned back towards him. "Why?"
RE: First to Thine Own Self - Nate - 5/24/2026
Ought not the be forgiven. Nate's ears curled back sharp, because the idea Cecil, or really anyone else, might do something beyond grace, felt so foreign. If Cecil had the notion they were condemned in any fashion, they wouldn't find agreement from Nate on the matter.
Every next word rolled off their tongue, earnest, and Nate knew he was supposed to buck up. To agree they spoke sense. Smile again. Shake off the burden, answer the question.
This was the part where he was meant to be anything other than what he'd always been, some twisted broken thing who was only good at pretending for a while. Each word hit like a blow to a heart still mending.
Why had he stayed? Where was his courage, now?
Nate swallowed. He stared at his rocks. Thought about Eleanore.
Trembled, faintly, and it struck him in a wave of shame that all his explanations sounded too much like excuses. Man up! the voice of his father scolded.
You're right.Nate diverted, defaulted, appeasement smooth off his tongue like the stones at his feet. It did not match the taut of his jaw.
Wasn't fair, what happened to you. You didn't deserve it.And Nate meant that, earnestly.
Or any of the hell I put you through, after.Words that wouldn't make up for things,
Words he wished he'd had the chance to tell Eleanore, too.
But wasn't hell where Nate had been often told he was bound? He knew why he'd been killed as a man, had recognized the faces who'd done him in and — should have known better.
I'm trying to — do better, than I have been.He forced out.
Divisive impulses tore at him, one where he donned the mask through grit teeth and gave the answer he thought Cecil wanted, and one where he was honest. What Nate had learned others wanted him to be, and what he wanted for himself. In each he now saw a personal failing. They twisted like snakes into knots until the end of one seemed the beginning of another, and every heartbeat punctuated another second of blatant shortcoming.
Lack of immediate condemnation paired with that singular demand — Why? — felt like a trap waiting to spring, and time, it seemed, was running short to form the best shape of himself.
RE: First to Thine Own Self - Tsídii - 5/24/2026
Each word landed, and Cecil watched them land- wrongly? Rightly? What Nate thought had always been mystery to them, or they wouldn't have dug themself so deeply into this damned mess. His ears curled back, his head tucked-
-but Cecil had to remember. This weren't to be painless.
Of course Nate evaded. Appeased.
No surprise in that. Disappointment, maybe- if you could be disappointed in knowing a thing would happen and still seeing it to pass. Always one to hope for more than they knew they'd be given; no need of cursed flame for that to be true.
Cecil had backed away. Remembered it, in that cavern where they'd woken after the ice. But nothing had changed in leaving it be; an abscess didn't heal left alone.
Even if they butchered it, better lanced than left to spread.
"But you deserved it? Why? 'Cause you thought you could do good, and turned out to have done bad?" The wrongness of it grated. Even a lifetime ago, in the right bodies, what judgment was Cecil meant to pass that he weren't allowed to mirror? Why was every man somehow without sin except him?
They took a breath, before their voice could strengthen, could waver. Cecil knew better than to get mad about these things; knew shouting was the same as admitting defeat.
"Who's the man who did wrong?" Tone banked back to embers, reflective. "You, seein' what was happenin', thinkin' you could make a difference- or the men who lied to you, shook your hand and held a knife in the other?"
Tail fluttered at their hind legs. "I have lied to get what I want." Like them. "Hurt myself, on the hope it'd hurt other people." Like him. "Maybe I ain't taken the words you have as truth- but that ain't the only thing a man can do wrong, not nearly the worst of it."
Somewhere, Cecil was mad at him. For thinking he was somehow special in his cruelties, as if every man weren't a monster in his own ways. But left that to themself.
"If this is hell, got nothin' to do with you. You ain't put me through anythin' I wouldn't be put through on two legs, and if hell were somethin' that simple, we wouldn't be here at all, would we? No, I just want to know. Why do I matter, and you don't?"
-but Cecil had to remember. This weren't to be painless.
Of course Nate evaded. Appeased.
No surprise in that. Disappointment, maybe- if you could be disappointed in knowing a thing would happen and still seeing it to pass. Always one to hope for more than they knew they'd be given; no need of cursed flame for that to be true.
Cecil had backed away. Remembered it, in that cavern where they'd woken after the ice. But nothing had changed in leaving it be; an abscess didn't heal left alone.
Even if they butchered it, better lanced than left to spread.
"But you deserved it? Why? 'Cause you thought you could do good, and turned out to have done bad?" The wrongness of it grated. Even a lifetime ago, in the right bodies, what judgment was Cecil meant to pass that he weren't allowed to mirror? Why was every man somehow without sin except him?
They took a breath, before their voice could strengthen, could waver. Cecil knew better than to get mad about these things; knew shouting was the same as admitting defeat.
"Who's the man who did wrong?" Tone banked back to embers, reflective. "You, seein' what was happenin', thinkin' you could make a difference- or the men who lied to you, shook your hand and held a knife in the other?"
Tail fluttered at their hind legs. "I have lied to get what I want." Like them. "Hurt myself, on the hope it'd hurt other people." Like him. "Maybe I ain't taken the words you have as truth- but that ain't the only thing a man can do wrong, not nearly the worst of it."
Somewhere, Cecil was mad at him. For thinking he was somehow special in his cruelties, as if every man weren't a monster in his own ways. But left that to themself.
"If this is hell, got nothin' to do with you. You ain't put me through anythin' I wouldn't be put through on two legs, and if hell were somethin' that simple, we wouldn't be here at all, would we? No, I just want to know. Why do I matter, and you don't?"
RE: First to Thine Own Self - Nate - 5/26/2026
Words pierced like arrows and at some point in their volley Nate started bleeding tears. Shame burned hot, he turned his face away and pulled lips back to show teeth in the same movement.
It wasn't anyone, though, Cecil! It was me!He growled.
I know what I'm supposed to be, and it's plain what I'm not!Nate's voice cracked over the final word, and he stepped back, weak-kneed, fur bristling.
Because you aren't supposed to see — any of it. This. That's why.
He shook his head.
I came back. I thought I didn't want to, but I did, an' maybe that's a failin' too so — whatever it is you want outta me, I can't give it to you. And I'm sorry for that.Heart felt like a stone.
RE: First to Thine Own Self - Tsídii - 5/29/2026
This time, Nate turned away.
And even resolved as they were, it was difficult not to flinch themself. But they knew what he would see in it; proof he'd hurt them further, another thing to flagellate with like he'd wielded the blade on purpose.
They gave those things to him so damn easily. Cecil had decided they wouldn't surrender any more.
"And why are you special?" they said, tail snapping against their flanks in agitation. "What are you supposed to be? What are any of us supposed to be? Everything I was goin' to do, goin' to make, goin' to be- none of it matters now. It's gone."
A wry laugh. "We're all the damn same as each other now. You do your best to make yourself into a sacrifice for us, like we're worth anythin' more." Cecil pinned their ears back. "You know what you ain't supposed to see of me? I didn't know what the hell I was doin' when I got here. I followed you 'cause at least there was somethin' familiar there. Then that dream happened, and you tried to run..."
And said it, then, because the truth of it burned at the back of their throat, and in the rush it didn't feel as fragile as it were: "I could've made it fine. I didn't. 'Cause I knew if I broke the ice," an inhale, "you wouldn't leave. So it weren't bad luck. I did it. I just-"
Their teeth clicked on the first excuse of many. No. The reasons they'd formatted after the fact, the guilt... none of that mattered. Wouldn't insult him by pretending otherwise. "...So if I ain't supposed to see any of this, it's because of what I did. Not 'cause you're not allowed to show it to someone more deservin' of seein' it. And I-"
Wanted to be that person. Knew better now.
They straightened. "That person ain't me, I get it. But I can't be sorry for what I did."
"I'm happy you came back, you know," they said. "It ain't a failin' to want to live. I wanted you to want to live. But I figured out real fast I can't make someone listen, unless they want it themself." Would be like making a snake promise not to bite. That weren't its instinct.
Cecil turned their head to the side, purposefully not looking at him now, at the way he stepped back and shook his head, fur bristling. What happened they deserved, but they didn't have the guts to look it in the eye. Coward after all.
And even resolved as they were, it was difficult not to flinch themself. But they knew what he would see in it; proof he'd hurt them further, another thing to flagellate with like he'd wielded the blade on purpose.
They gave those things to him so damn easily. Cecil had decided they wouldn't surrender any more.
"And why are you special?" they said, tail snapping against their flanks in agitation. "What are you supposed to be? What are any of us supposed to be? Everything I was goin' to do, goin' to make, goin' to be- none of it matters now. It's gone."
A wry laugh. "We're all the damn same as each other now. You do your best to make yourself into a sacrifice for us, like we're worth anythin' more." Cecil pinned their ears back. "You know what you ain't supposed to see of me? I didn't know what the hell I was doin' when I got here. I followed you 'cause at least there was somethin' familiar there. Then that dream happened, and you tried to run..."
And said it, then, because the truth of it burned at the back of their throat, and in the rush it didn't feel as fragile as it were: "I could've made it fine. I didn't. 'Cause I knew if I broke the ice," an inhale, "you wouldn't leave. So it weren't bad luck. I did it. I just-"
Their teeth clicked on the first excuse of many. No. The reasons they'd formatted after the fact, the guilt... none of that mattered. Wouldn't insult him by pretending otherwise. "...So if I ain't supposed to see any of this, it's because of what I did. Not 'cause you're not allowed to show it to someone more deservin' of seein' it. And I-"
Wanted to be that person. Knew better now.
They straightened. "That person ain't me, I get it. But I can't be sorry for what I did."
"I'm happy you came back, you know," they said. "It ain't a failin' to want to live. I wanted you to want to live. But I figured out real fast I can't make someone listen, unless they want it themself." Would be like making a snake promise not to bite. That weren't its instinct.
Cecil turned their head to the side, purposefully not looking at him now, at the way he stepped back and shook his head, fur bristling. What happened they deserved, but they didn't have the guts to look it in the eye. Coward after all.
RE: First to Thine Own Self - Nate - 6/2/2026
Words piled on words and Nate felt himself compress with each new stone Cecil piled upon the rest.
Nate heard condemnations for his arrogance, and an old life Cecil longed for that he could never provide. Cecil talked like their faults in any way compared — but Nate wasn't sure. No one called Cecil chief, they hadn't accepted the burden of all that demanded and —
And the ice.
You want me to be mad at you?Nate shook his head,
I'm not.He was.
I shouldn't have run. I gave you a reason to be scared, to feel like that was the only choice you had.
Nate's head jerked sharply, claws dug into the earth.
That's on me. Only reason we're having this conversation at all is 'cause I — I messed it up, alright? Every moment along the way to here, if I did the leading, that's on me.
Somewhere between the words Nate had risen to his feet and stalked the waterline,
No one deserves seein' it.Why in the hell would Nate want anyone, ever, to see this! Especially someone he cared about! He didn't have the words for it. Only,
Or bein' put through it. From here out I am to be better, so you don't need to worry about me runnin' off or — anything like that.
Nate licked his lip, ears flat,
Don't blame yourself, alright? Please.
The impulse to walk away before a fresh wave of tears could ruin bold words was mounting.
...I want you to stay. But I understand if you don't.