imperfectnothing

[imperfectnothing]

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[imperfectnothing]

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dearn uma,

i dont h ave much time i think yo u may not be able to se e this messa ge intiime but i need you to know that i am ali ve and that everything is okay and no mat ter what happ ens you need to lea ve that stage and run farfarfar far away fromthere its not safe you are not safe

they are out t he re and they are going to find

you

they are ali ve and they are g oing to find you please mak e sure your death is peaceful andAWAY FROM THEST AGE

i'llmake sure. everyone. knows

Nen e

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[imperfectnothing]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DEMI AND KAFKA!

CW: BLOOD, REFERENCES TO DEATH, BAD ART

Tagging @chevalperd and @ivanttakethis love you guys,,,

[imperfectnothing]

[imperfectnothing]

My dumb idiot girl just happy to be here I guess,,

[imperfectnothing]

ART DUMPP!!

(Scrapped sketches and unfinished WIPs..)

Starting off with yuri... (Peony belongs to @imperfectnothing)

Toon Sua.....

Daian my beloved... (Daian belongs to @apple8ees)

Monica's mama/provider.. (this is an older design of her, I'm gonna redesign her soon...)

Ivan in a dress... (Oldish drawings)

DELILAHHHHH (lowkey forgot she existed for a while but it's okay)

Err Till from the comic I'm never finishing I fear..

Emotion drawing practice..

Amara...

Sigh.. Sua

BLEH MONISLAA

Tune doodles.. mainly Mermay inspired hehe

ESMEEE!! (Isla and Asuka's mother/provider)

Toon..

I think that's it lmao

[imperfectnothing]

"Nad why do your OCS look different?"

"what do you mean?"

[imperfectnothing]

why.

[imperfectnothing]

Cowardice

(Long Post Warning)

----------------------------------------------------------

Isla's hands tightened nervously around the microphone she held, as if it were a lifeline.

Her mind was racing, yet no thoughts came to her. Isla's eyes darted around frantically, but her face stayed emotionless, stone-cold to the world around her.

Isla's eyes were suddenly caught by a familiar pair of grey ones, staring at her from across the back of the stage.

Monica smiled, waving slightly. Good luck, she mouthed to Isla.

Isla wanted to run to her, to take Monica's hands in hers, to speak to her properly, to ask why she left that morning (even though she knew why), to ask why Monica didn't stay, at least a little longer, to—

Isla subtly nodded, unmoving from her place, mouthing back, you too.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Tell me, oh tell me, the way it works,

Inside of me, who is there?"

Monica's voice floated through the air, like a warm blanket surrounding Isla, shielding her from the audiences piercing gaze.

Monica's voice sounded so soft compared to how she'd usually sing; she always sung with such power and emotion. Yet each note she sung sounded so fragile, delicate. Isla admired how Monica seemed to be able to sing any song, of any genre, how easily she fit into any mould, and always appeared so... breathtaking.

"Broken, broken inside this world,

You laugh, unable to see anything."

But this song played to Isla's strengths.

Isla knew this. Of course she knew this.

Even with those faint worries in her mind as she ascended the stairs of the stage, Isla couldn't help but melt away into the performance, falling into the gentle rhythm, her voice responding to Monica's call.

Eventually, their eyes met upon reaching the upper stage, and Isla smiled, finally seeing the other girl up close.

Monica was beautiful. She always was to Isla, but seeing her in the glittery spotlights of the stage, how she carried herself so confidently in the outfit she had previously admitted she couldn't stand... she was so dreamlike, like nothing of this mortal world could touch her.

The two couldn't have been on that stage for more than five minutes. Ten, if Isla was being generous.

But how could someone like Isla be generous?

Isla was greedy.

She prayed that they would stay like this, that Monica would stay untouchable, that this moment would last forever.

Isla was foolish.

She made the fatal mistake of looking away from Monica, immediately shattering her heavenly illusion. She realised she had let her guard down, even though she tried so hard not to. Isla was brought back to her tragic reality once her eyes caught the scoreboard.

ISLA VS. MONICA: 94-66

In a panic, Isla turned back to Monica, locking eyes with the girl.

Monica's eyes were wide, the warmth drained from them, now replaced with cold fear. She had seen the score too.

And yet she still smiled at Isla.

Isla's mouth felt dry. Her mind was blank. She didn't know what to think, she couldn't think-

And yet she had to have made this choice consciously, hadn't she?

Because Isla was selfish.

So Isla looked away.

----------------------------------------------------------

Isla's body froze as she heard the shot ring out.

Isla stood straight, as she was taught since she was a child, staring into the crowd.

The lights that shone into her eyes were too bright. Her dress felt too tight, the necklace around her throat made it hard to breathe.

Her ears were overwhelmed by the crowd's cheers, their cruel laughter, their boos and their nasty jeering.

She didn't even remember being escorted off the stage, it was all a blur to her.

All Isla could remember was seeing Madame, who seemed pleased for once, until she glanced down at Isla when she got closer.

"Oh dear, Isla, I wish you wouldn't stand so close to your opponents," Madame clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "That was such a nice dress, too.."

Isla had tuned her out at that point, dread at the pit of her stomach.

Isla knew what Madame meant, there was no need for her look down at herself. And yet she did, and the sight made her want to throw up.

All the way down the side of her dress, a deep red splatter dripped downwards, a few droplets trailing behind her.

Blood. Monica's blood.

Isla bit down harshly on her tongue, a desperate attempt to stop herself from screaming.

Monica was gone.

That sentence repeated in her head as she was led to the showers, where she was stripped of her blood-stained clothes, the only thing she had left of her beloved.

Monica was gone.

Isla could only watch as the remainder of the red mixed with the shower water, making a faint pink hue as it trickled down the drain.

Monica was gone.

She was dressed in clean, plainer clothes, ones that were deemed untainted.

Everything left of Monica was gone.

----------------------------------------------------------

Isla's room felt so cold compared to the previous night.

She had asked Madame that she be allowed to rest there for the next few rounds, though Isla didn't expect her request to be granted. Maybe she felt pity for Isla, or maybe she was still in a good mood due to Isla's performance.

Isla didn't think she could stand being around anyone at this point.

The one person Isla wanted was gone. Because of her.

Isla tried to shove those feelings aside, sitting down on her bed, still unmade since this morning.

Breathe, Isla. It won't do anything to get upset. Breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Monica was scared.

Out.

In.

Monica didn't want to die.

Isla's breath stuttered.

In.

Out.

In.

You made her die.

Isla couldn't breathe.

Coward.

Isla flinched when she heard the sound of her room door opening, her head jerking in the direction of the noise.

"Isla?"

Oh.

Maybe it was the sudden surprise at seeing someone at her door. Maybe it the concern on her brother's face. Maybe it was the fact that he was now all that Isla had in this world. But something broke her.

"Asuka.." Isla's voice wobbled as tears started to fall from her eyes, "She's gone."

Isla didn't notice that Asuka had crossed to her side of the room, being too blinded by the flooding tears, until she felts his arms embracing her, an attempt at comfort.

She reacted to this comfort by inflicting pain, digging her nails into her brother's back, clinging to him as she choked back her sobs.

"She's gone," Isla repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

And it's because of me.

"I know, Isla, I know," Asuka said in a hushed tone, holding her tighter.

He did know, didn't he? Asuka saw the whole thing happen. He was forced to watch as Monica's light was snuffed out, as well as his sister's cowardly act of self preservation.

"I'm here, Isla. I've got you, okay? I've got you."

Isla knew her brother was only trying to comfort her with his words, to reassure her that he was alive, that they were alive.

But all they did was ignite an anger in her.

"You shouldn't be here," Isla muttered into Asuka's shoulder.

"What?"

"Why are you here?" Isla raised her voice, pushing Asuka away to properly look him in the eyes, "you know you never had to be here, why didn't you just stay home?

"Isla-"

"Why would you do something so foolish? Don’t you know what this means? That.." Isla took in a shaky sigh, looking away from Asuka, "..That I'm going to have to lose you, too?"

All Isla wanted, since she was a child, was Asuka to be safe. Even when she wasn't with him, she prayed for his safety. She had hoped Joujou would keep him safe, and if that meant having him as only another decoration in their home, a doll to be kept on the shelf, so be it. As long as it kept him from harm's way, far away from this cursed stage.

But Joujou always was too much of a pushover.

Isla sniffled, returning her gaze to her brother. "Get out, Asuka," she said quietly, her voice raspy. (Madame would surely give out to her about it.)

Hurt flashed across Asuka's face, which only made looking at him pain Isla more.

"I.. I just need to be alone."

Asuka seemed to hesitate, before nodding and softly saying, "Okay."

Isla watched silently as her brother left the room, the door clicking closed behind him.

Now, Isla's room felt colder than it ever had before.

----------------------------------------------------------

I swear I like Isla guys-

Asuka and Joujou belong to @imperfectnothing! <3 Hope I did them justice huehue

Also tagging: @lulling-riot, @lookatmysillies, @apple8ees, @billwasnot, @chevalperd, @awaggaa, @verdantlights, @starry-skiez, @friedclownshrimp, @4listr and @ivanttakethis!

[imperfectnothing]

I'll stand by your side like I always do (In the dead of night, it'll be alright)

happy birthday vant!! love you :3 here's some nazwren (@ivanttakethis & @lookatmysillies)

[imperfectnothing]

intimacy scores (Asuka)

Cinna (70%) (@apriciticreveries) - "You make me feel safe. Thank you for letting me spend time with miss Yuna."

Innamorati (10%) (@alien-til-i-stage) - “Friendly and sweet enough but he is friends with that vicious one, Toki. I would comment but I know how love clouds the mind, how it is when you have the taste of their blood in your mouth. It’s quite intoxicating, isn’t it?”

Isla (95%) (@nottoonedin) - “She’s the reason I’m here today, my beloved sister. Still, I sing to myself the lullabies she used to lull me to sleep with. Like a god, she will always be better than me. Forever, I stand in her shadow, and for good reason, she is very bright, after all.”

Kioku (85%) (@severedscales) - “Kio! She can keep up with my boundless energy and she does so with grace and a grin on her face. Her happiness is not a facade, not like mine and I admire her for that. Yet, there is an abyss in her eyes on occasion, when she goes quiet and stares out at the horizon. She is missing something but I could never fathom what. All I want is for her smile to be unburdened.”

Leto (100%) (@paradisedisconcert) - “I cannot bear the thought of losing him, my wretched, bleeding heart could not take it. He helps me remember why I’m living. Isla may give me the reason to live but Leto keeps me wanting to stay, keeps me waking up every morning despite the odds. He does not care about my tarnished past, my corrupted form. I merely pray he knows how much that means.”

Macbeth (3%) - “Your death was a tragedy. Your flame snuffed out too soon. Yet, I did not know you well enough to mourn you. That is my fault. I hope you are happy, wherever you are.”

Monica (90%) - “Monica is a sister to me, even if we’re not related by blood. She is precious to Isla, even if Isla would never admit it, and she is precious to me, too. Monica is so sincere, so earnest, it’s heartbreaking to ever see her sorrowful.”

Naz (20%) - “You have no reason to be so afraid. I will not take anything from you. I would not dare, with your clenched hands, your hostile stare.”

Toki (2%) (@verdantlights) - “I do not care for him.”

Wren (92%) (@ivanttakethis) - “She does not ask anything of me. She takes my shaking hands in her own and she steadies them. She smiles at me with no pretense. She has so much love in her beautiful body and yet she holds it back, lest she hurt the recipient. So considerate to a fault and yet she would balk at the very suggestion. Wren, you deserve every bit of love you receive, in fact, you deserve more. Please accept it.”

Yael (5%) - “We have friends in common but that is about it. He is a peculiar creature. I almost want to put him in a petri dish and study him underneath a microscope. There must be some reason he is this way.”

Yuna (75%) (@starry-skiez) - “You do not mind my idiosyncrasies and you do not ask questions even when the tension in my limbs is plain as day. Thank you for indulging me, time and time again, miss Yuna.”

[imperfectnothing]

Your Best

[imperfectnothing]

"Her name was known everywhere, yet she died second. How pitiful for someone with such potential. Oh well, just start again."

[imperfectnothing]

ROUND 16 LOG - POV: 217342 (ASUKA)

“Go to the future without the correct answer, go beyond your dreams.”

The final verses of my song escaped from my lungs, alongside the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, as I clutched the microphone in my trembling hands. I didn’t want to prove them all right, that all I was cut out for was the shadowy rooms in the back of lounges, or tucked away in the trophy case, seen but never heard. Leto took one of my hands in his own, squeezing it in an uncharacteristically tender moment, and I looked at him. He smiled at me, proud but muted, quiet in a way that was almost sad. Worry bloomed in my stomach, growing from the pit of anxiety that had hummed within since the beginning. I reached out to cup his face but he jerked his chin, gesturing to up at the scores. I followed, trusting as always, and turned to view the scoreboard.

77 - 54

Shock was the only thing that registered, at first, muffling the joy that crackled through me. The joy and shock were quickly swept away by the primal fear that surged, lights flickering out as I was overloaded. Systems came back online as I caught Leto in my arms, his body falling towards the floor as blood sluggishly gushed from the bullet wound in the side of his neck. Through the haze of my mind, I could only barely hear my panicked breathing. There was nothing I could do, nothing I possibly could attempt to fix this. If I took the bullet out, he would only bleed out faster. Leto’s eyes blinked open, irises eventually landing on me, and I begged him,

“Please, no. Please don’t leave me, too.” I held my hand to his neck, trying to stall the bleeding, and pressed my forehead against his. He leaned up to kiss me (one last time) and he smiled at me, before his copper patina eyes went dull. A sob caught in my throat, stuck on unshed tears and the stuttering of my chest, but even in my compromised state, I could hear the footsteps approaching. They were surrounding us, they needed to take the body for processing, they needed to take him from me, that was standard protocol, I knew that, I’d seen what happened to Monica, unable to wrench my eyes away when after Isla fled the scene. I felt a hand on my back and I surged upwards, knocking away the arm and kicking out. Snarling at another one of the guards, I put in my all to protect Leto’s body from them, throwing punches and ducking away from reaching hands even though I was running on fumes. It was difficult to really fight them off because leaving Leto’s body wasn’t an option, meaning I was more or less cornered in barely two meters of space.

They successfully subdued me when one of them caught hold of me and dislocated my shoulder, startling a broken cry from my throat when they flung me over their shoulder in a brutal fireman carry. From somewhere, I sensed the pinprick of a needle and it didn’t take long for the sedative to take effect, my vision clouding with spots of black as I was forced to watch them pick up Leto’s body, forced to see the way his limbs ragdolled and his head lolled to one side, joints and muscles no longer a necessary consideration.

He was still smiling, when I lost sight of him.

-❦-

Waking up to an angel just made me wish I was dead even more. Delicate, thin white braids cascaded down in a curtain, obscuring my view of anything other than Wren’s pensive face. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw me open my own and she started to back away but I reached out, grabbing her by the arm, my grip firm like a vice.

“Don’t,” I rasped. My shoulder hurts like hell but it’s nothing I’m not used to. Sometimes the seygein will put me into positions and one or both of my legs will be dislocated by the end of the night. I’ve gotten used to the pain, throbbing underneath my skin like a reminder, a thrumming memory of everything that I am and everything I will never be. Leto never cared about what I was, what I failed to be. He never looked at me with pity, with remorse in his eyes, not like Isla does. Distantly, I realized, Wren never asked anything of me, either. She only ever wanted me to be myself. What exactly did I do to earn her esteem? I didn’t have it in me to really question it, not then. “Don’t leave,” I pleaded with her. She paused, expression clouding over as she thought for a moment before she let out a sigh, sitting on the medic pallet I was laying on. “I was just going to get the doctor,” she said gently but my hold still doesn’t let up. Everything hurt, my throat, my shoulder, my whole being, my head, my heart, but Wren made for a good distraction. She was something worth focusing on, other than the memories that lingered at the edges of my awareness, the dreams that beckoned with a saccharine sweet smile. Wren watched me for a long beat of silence before she frowned, her lips pressing into a line. “You don’t have to pretend around me, you know.” I blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“On stage, you cried but right now, you’re not,” she gestured to my eyes and when I reached up, I realized she was right, they were dry. “You can cry all you want. I won’t tell.” She smiled, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles, and I knew it was supposed to be reassuring, I knew, but all it did was steal the ground out from under me. My chest hiccups on a breath, ribs catching on my lungs, and I can’t speak for a moment.

“I don’t think I can cry, anymore,” I admitted to her with a shaky exhale.

“What do you mean?” She prompted, her head tilting to the side slightly, an invitation for me to go on, if I wanted to. The dark smoky quartz of her eyes never demanded anything, always willing to take whatever I would give. Why didn’t she ever ask for more? Everyone else did. Everyone wanted something.

“The well’s dried up, Wren. I’ve cried and cried and what has that done?” I laughed, then, and it was a bitter, tired sound. Brittle, almost, as if it too would shatter as easily as my dreams. All I wanted was to be free. All I wanted was someone who wanted me, who made me feel as if I were important for once, as if I weren’t playing second fiddle to my sister for the rest of my fucking life. But he’s dead, now. “Leto died. He died for me and what did I do? I cried. I couldn’t even protect him. I’m fucking useless, at this point. All I do is fail and drive people away. I drove Isla away, with my bleeding heart. The only person I haven’t driven away is you, and that’s just because you don’t ever know when to give up.” Hurt flashed across Wren’s face in a brief, rare glimpse of the vulnerability that lay beneath the brazen, fierce facade that she puts up. I regretted it immediately but I didn’t have the energy, the will, to apologize.

“Do you want me to give up?” She demanded, the edge of her voice raw. I looked away, unable to stand the seeking look in her eyes. She understood me in a way no one ever really could. We were both players in someone else’s production, on the stage without a choice but to keep up the act. We would both always be stuck in the shadow of our siblings, less beautiful, less desirable, unwanted scraps leftover from a lavish meal. Wren was so much more resourceful than me, she had that mettle that made it impossible to really stand up to her and win, she was foolhardy but she always made it work out in the end. She took risky gambles but she won big, so who cared? I would just be a burden to her, water weight on her clothes, just like I dragged Isla down and forced her to take risks she never wanted to.

“It would be better, for you,” I replied quietly.

“Who are you to choose?” Wren snapped, standing up suddenly and ripping out of my hold. “Fuck you for thinking you can just decide that for me.” She stalked away, leaving the room in silence, empty and suffocating with only me left behind.

I didn’t bother trying to stop her. I didn’t even reach out.

Brother like sister, til the end, I suppose.

tagging @ivanttakethis for the prominent Wren presence!! i really hope i characterized her alright (sweats nervously) also tagging @paradisedisconcert for Leto, the boy of all time. . . my son's husband. . . tagging @nottoonedin for Isla mentions! additionally tagging @alien-til-i-stage and @lookatmysillies because um you've said I can do that before. heh.

wren is just going to get the doctor dw!! by the time shes back tho asuka fell back asleep, thinking she just left, like he wanted her to. he's kind of having a shit go of it. . .

lyrics at the beginning are from Yoku by Eve (which was Asuka's round song)

[imperfectnothing]

Wren’s Log - Entry 1.6

————————————————————

It was late when Wren made it back to the hotel. Much later than she intended.

After drinking with Asuka at BLINK, they stopped and got something to eat before he went home.

He seemed hesitant to leave, but maybe Wren was just over thinking it.

She told him to call if he ever needed someone to talk to. Day or night, she would answer.

The lobby was quiet; nearly empty this late at night.

Wren entered one of the elevators and pressed the button for the 14th floor.

Just before the doors shut, a brown hand triggered the sensor for them to open again.

And she found herself face to face with Yael.

“Ah, it all makes sense.” He said, smiling to himself. “I was wondering why Naz was so irritated today.”

There was an amused glint in his gold irises that Wren didn’t like.

She scoffed, “How could Naz have been irritated if I wasn’t even around?”

Yael chuckled as if she’d said something funny.

Wren always got the sense that he saw her as some sort of lab rat. A specimen to observe, analyze, and take note of.

Something to feel superior to.

Something to pity.

He pressed the button for the 18th floor and the elevator began to climb.

“You know, Wren,” Yael said. “I think that when you look at me, you see a bit of yourself. And that troubles you.” He mused. “But I promise, we’re far from the same.”

The elevator chimed as it slowed to a stop on the 14th floor.

Wren mindlessly stumbled out, still turning Yael’s words over in her head.

“I promise, we’re far from the same.”

What was that supposed to mean?

She turned to look back at him, to ask what he was implying, and he smiled at her in that oddly cheerful way of his.

“Have a blessed evening.” He said as the doors shut between them.

———

Wren used the room key Naz had reluctantly given her that morning to get into the room.

Despite the late hour, Naz was still awake, grabbing something out of the small fridge in the kitchenette.

“So,” Naz said, kicking the fridge door shut with her foot. “Did you have fun on your date?”

Wren stopped halfway through taking her heels off, brows furrowed, “Date? What date?”

“With Asuka.” She said. “You guys were gone all day.”

…What?

Wren didn’t think Naz would care that she was gone.

But more than that—

“It wasn’t a date, we were just hanging out. You know, as friends?”

“What did you do?”

“We went for drinks at BLINK, talked for a while, then we went to eat. That’s it.”

“What’s Leto gonna think?” Something about Naz’s tone was… off.

Wren was used to her being abrasive, that’s just who Naz was, but this was different.

The playing field between them that she prided herself on knowing like the back of her hand had shifted without warning.

Wren was off balance.

“I don’t think he’ll make a big deal out of it.” She said after a moment.

And truthfully, she didn’t know why Naz of all people was making a big deal of it.

She didn’t even like Leto.

Why did his feelings matter to her now?

Wren tucked her shoes by the door and rummaged through her duffle bag for something to sleep in, “If things get blown out of proportion somehow, I’ll just tell him that he’s wrong.”

She tossed a night shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the bed. “There’s nothing romantic going on with Asuka, or anyone else. And there probably never will be.”

Naz didn’t respond.

She didn’t say anything more until they were both in bed, side by side, just as they had been the night before.

It was still dark.

Still quiet.

Naz’s arm was no closer to hers, but no further away either.

The tension in the room was stifling.

Or maybe that was just her imagination.

Wren tried to feign sleep, but Yael’s cryptic words prickled at the back of her mind.

He was just flaunting his superiority.

Nothing more.

“Have a blessed evening.”

Definitely just being an asshole.

“Wren?” Naz called out in a hushed voice.

Wren opened her eyes, fully prepared to be met with Naz’s side profile like usual, but Naz was facing her now.

She was looking right at her.

Wren’s heart jolted, like she’d gotten too close to a live wire.

Words suddenly failed her, and she could only hum in reply.

“What made you say that? That you’ll never have anything romantic?” Naz asked.

Wren mulled the question over and shrugged, “I mean, have I really done anything to deserve it?”

Naz frowned, “Is love something you have to deserve?”

It must be.

And whatever test you have to take, I’ve failed every time.

“Maybe…” She said instead. “Or at least it feels that way sometimes.”

The last part felt too honest to say aloud, but there was no taking it back.

Her words hung heavy in the air, like a confession that should never see the light of day slipping through the bars of its cage.

Wren was a lot of things, but rarely if ever a coward.

Still.

She didn’t want to be the one to break the silence.

“I think…” Naz cleared her throat. “I think one day you’ll find that kind of love, if you really want it.”

Wren’s heart ached.

I do really want it. She thought.

But it clearly doesn’t want me.

She sighed, sardonic in spite of herself. “We can’t always get what we want. No matter how badly we want it.”

Naz raised an eyebrow, “I thought you never said no to a challenge?”

“I can’t risk it.” She said. “I can’t ruin this.”

I can’t lose you.

“You say that like going after what you want is going to blow your whole life up.” Naz said.

Wren smiled wryly, ignoring the distant pang in her chest, “It might.”

It probably would, all things considered.

Naz had only ever loved Akane.

And Wren wasn’t gentle like her.

Wren’s love had teeth.

It drew blood.

It wasn’t soft or sweet.

Why would Naz ever accept something like that?

Things were best left as is; even if Naz thought differently.

Wren didn’t want to hurt her.

But will that be enough?

A small voice whispered in her ear.

Will that ever be enough for you?

The wagyein was back.

Burrowing its way in between her ribs again.

Hungry.

Always hungry.

“Fine.” Naz tsked, displeased. “Just know, a closed mouth never gets fed.”

She almost laughed at how right Naz unknowingly was, “I guess that’s true.”

That was fine.

If the wagyein wasn’t going to go away, Wren would only let it consume her.

No one else.

She stretched out and rolled over to face the wall, “Goodnight Naz.”

A moment passed.

Then another.

And finally,

“Goodnight Wren...”

————————————————————

Haha! I bet you thought the last scene was meant to show Naz’s jealousy, when in fact it was a Trojan horse to discuss Wren’s inner self deprecation!!

One thing that’s important to note is that Wren isn’t jealous of Akane. Her comparing herself to Akane and noting all of their differences is just her way of rationalizing why she shouldn’t tell Naz how she feels.

In her mind, there is no way that Naz returns her feelings, so why should she risk what they have now?

But I think Wren may be overlooking some rather obvious signs…

Yael is quite aware of them though 😁

Naz and Yael belong to @lookatmysillies

Asuka belongs to @imperfectnothing (thank you for beta reading some of this mwah)

Akane belongs to @aakaneeee

Tagging: @alien-til-i-stage @chevalperd @apple8ees @verdantlights @4listr @billwasnot @nottoonedin @yunoftheclouds @awaggaa @junebluues @apriciticreveries @friedclownshrimp @starryskiez @messengers-of-the-gods

[imperfectnothing]

Wren’s Log - Entry 1.5

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After whittling down her defenses all morning, Naz had finally allowed Wren to come along to Yael’s event.

Though, she had been instructed to “sit down, shut up, and do absolutely nothing else.”

Wren wasn’t interested in causing trouble for Naz.

She wasn’t interested in listening to Yael talk about the Great Anakt either.

Her plan was to just zone out until the event was over and then pester Naz into doing something fun once she was off the clock.

But that changed when they got down to the hotel lobby.

Wren gaze swept the room as the small entourage surrounding Yael made their way toward the front doors — cautious of any threats that could arise.

Not to protect Yael.

Fuck that guy.

She just wanted to have Naz’s back if things went to shit.

Her gaze lingered on a particularly large group of segyein near the lounge, taking note of every face and appendage.

Then something in Wren’s peripheral caught her attention.

An unaccompanied pet human with two-toned blue hair, sitting alone on a couch.

She stopped walking, “Asuka?”

“Huh?” Naz stopped slightly ahead.

“Look, it’s Asuka!” Wren grinned, grabbing Naz’s arm and shaking it. “I’m gonna go say hi.”

Naz followed Wren’s line of sight until she saw their classmate.

Her eyes narrowed, another flash of something in her gaze Wren couldn’t name.

“Alright…” she said. There was a slight edge to her voice that hadn’t been there before. “Don’t expect me to wait for you.”

Wren already knew not to expect that.

“That’s okay, I’ll catch up.” She said with a wave of her hand, breaking away from the group.

Once Wren was on the other side of the lobby and close enough to her friend, she called out to him.

“Asuka!”

Asuka jumped at the sound of his name, looking around before his gaze landed on her. He blinked, almost disbelieving, “Wren?”

“Hey stranger, long time no see.”

He offered her a shaky smile, “I guess it has been a while since we’ve seen each other. What brings you here?”

“I’m staying with Naz while she works Yael’s tour. What about you?”

Asuka’s smile tightened.

It was his first tell.

The second was the taut line of his shoulders.

The third was the slight shaking of his hands.

The fourth was the dullness of his eyes.

The fifth was the strain of his muscles trying to keep him upright.

Subtle to most.

But not to her.

“Oh just some business stuff for my guardian. No big deal.” He said.

Liar.

“Are you sure? You look kinda tired.”

Asuka forced a smile, waving away her concern, “It’s nothing! Really. I’m fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night, but I’ll be good by tomorrow. No need to worry about me.”

How many times had Wren heard him say some variant of that over the years?

It was clear there was more going on.

She switched tactics, “Oh, well, in that case, are you busy right now? We can get some drinks and catch up.”

“U-Uh yeah, I’m free. But, uh,” Asuka quickly glanced behind Wren, then back at her, “Won’t Naz be mad?”

Wren tilted her head, confused by his question. “Why would Naz be mad?”

“Well you said you were—” He cut himself off, sighing. “You know what, nevermind. Forget I said anything. We can hang out for a bit.”

“Great!” She grinned, “I know just the place.”

———

Wren sent a message to Naz about her plans with Asuka before they left the hotel and only got a simple “K” in reply.

Good enough.

The two walked a few blocks over from the hotel to a karaoke bar called BLINK in the entertainment district.

It was a hotspot for pet-humans signed to the various talent agencies in the city.

Every weekend, trainees would meet up at BLINK, get a private room or two, and spend what little free time they had eating, drinking, and blowing off steam.

Most of them didn’t leave until just before curfew, scurrying off in different directions to make it back to the dorms in time, giddy from the copious spirits and loosened leashes.

The bar was quiet this early in the afternoon, making it easy to get a private room. But in a few hours time everything would be booked up for the night ahead.

A short, yellow segyein with six eyes and a reedy voice led them to Room 16.

It was one of the smaller rooms on offer, just a corner booth, a low table for food and drinks, and the karaoke equipment, all awash in soft pink and purple lights.

After the segyein host took their drink orders and left, Wren turned to Asuka.

He tensed under her gaze.

Bracing for a barrage of questions she hadn’t even asked yet.

He wouldn’t even look at her.

“So,” she started. “Do you want to talk or do you want to listen?”

Asuka blinked up at her, eyebrows furrowed, searching Wren’s face for any sign of an ulterior motive.

Finding none, he relaxed a little, a sigh of relief slipping past his lips. “Listening would be nice.”

So, Wren did the talking.

She talked about Tov, how they were separated at a young age, and how they came to meet one another again.

She talked about ZYNE, the deal for her solo career, and her run-ins with other less fortunate trainees.

And she talked about dropping in on Naz, their agreement for Wren to help her practice for Alien Stage, and how Naz had to begrudgingly share a bed with her.

Asuka had given her a funny look when she told him that last part.

Wren just chuckled and shrugged it off.

Slowly but surely as she talked, the tension in his shoulders began to ease.

That mask of a smile he wore so tightly started to slip.

She wasn’t lying earlier.

Asuka really did look tired.

Exhausted, even.

Not from a lack of sleep though.

From something deeper than that.

Wren waited until they both finished their second drinks to broach the topic.

“Suka,” she said softly, setting her empty glass on the low table.

“You’re not fine, are you?”

For a moment, Asuka’s expression was completely unguarded.

Then the pain set in.

In his eyes and in his smile.

“Is it that obvious?” He asked.

“Probably only to me.” She said.

He sighed and stared down at the remnants of his drink, like the answer to his worries was hidden under the slush of blue ice.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but I’m here to listen if you do.” She reached out to rest a hand on his upper arm and squeezed.

Wren learned very early on that Asuka didn’t like being touched. One might even go as far as to say that he hated it.

But over time at Anakt, she observed his reactions to physical contact and made note of what did and didn’t trigger him.

His back, shoulders, and chest were triggers. Same with his neck and face.

He didn’t like his legs being touched either.

His arms were fine, especially his upper arms, but his wrists were not.

Hands were off limits too, unless he initiated the contact.

She always played it safe. She didn’t want to hurt him.

Asuka glanced down at her hand on his arm and his expression crumbled.

He squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed.

“It’s bad, Wren.” He whispered, “Really, really bad.” His voice shook on every syllable. “I’m so… tired.”

A sick feeling pooled in Wren’s stomach.

Dread and bile and something darker.

She suppressed it.

Right now Asuka needed comfort.

Wren grabbed a throw pillow next to her on the booth and set it on her lap.

“Come on.” She said, gesturing to him.

Asuka laid down and rested his head on the pillow without protest.

“Better?” Wren asked.

“…I guess.”

Despite his weak affirmation, he did relax a little once he was settled.

She would take it as a win.

Wren remembered Isla playing in Asuka’s hair to soothe him when they were younger.

Maybe that would help now too.

Though, the crown of his head was tricky. Whether or not he was comfortable with that kind of touch seemed to vary from person to person.

She decided to take a chance, gently threading her fingers through his hair, but sticking closer to the ends than his scalp.

He didn’t seem to mind.

Another small win.

“Have you told anyone what’s going on?” She asked. “Isla? Or Leto?”

“No, no one knows. They can’t know.” He said. “If I tell someone — anyone — they won’t— they won’t see me the same way anymore.”

Ah.

That’s familiar.

“I know it sounds stupid but—”

“No, it doesn’t.” Wren cut him off. “It doesn’t sound stupid. At least not to me. I worry about it too.”

“But why?”

“There’s a lot you guys don’t know about me. Things that I’ve never told anyone.” She said quietly, twirling a lock of his hair around her finger. “I don’t want to change the way people look at me either.”

No one from Anakt Garden knew about her past.

Not even Naz.

Wren didn’t want them to look at her differently; any more differently than they’d look at a girl with white hair and a prominent facial scar.

Even if their secrets weren’t the same, she knew exactly what he was feeling.

“I guess I came to the right place.”

“To be fair, I nudged you into it.” Wren said, tucking some loose strands of hair behind his ear.

Asuka grabbed her hand before she could pull away and squeezed it gently.

“Still though…”

He didn’t finish the thought.

Wren hummed softly, letting her head rest against the back of the booth, watching the disco ball spin in syrupy circles overhead.

The colored lighting made the mirrored panels glitter like diamonds.

A new song started to play over the speakers.

Something techno pop, with a fast enough tempo to dance to.

It sounded like a song Wren would perform, but the lyrics betrayed the upbeat instrumental.

Searching for a hand…

Ah? Sorry my bad

What’s got me so sad?

Bugs found their way

In my algorithm

A female voice was singing, light but melancholic.

Just can't get release

Let me be everything

I’ll gladly lift my mask

If you ask, and be gentle

Had Wren ever shown anyone what was truly under her mask? Maybe pieces of it, but not the whole thing.

That seemed to be true for Asuka too.

They were the same in that way.

Do you see my pain as I smile in the rave lights

All eyes on me

Just call me a Deep Faker

“Hey Wren?” Asuka murmured.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for today.”

She squeezed his hand, “No need to thank me. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Asuka squeezed back, stronger than before, “Right.”

————————————————————

Asuka: “Wren, your lesbian not-wife is going to kill me if we hang out alone.”

Wren: “My lesbian what now?”

Anyways, I love writing these two. I love their friendship. Wren and Asuka are so much more alike than they think and I love that too.

They both hide the “ugly” parts of themselves to avoid being rejected by the people they care about.

They both have pasts they’d rather not dredge up.

But at least they know they’re not alone in those feelings now. I think that this conversation is kind of a breakthrough for them.

The song playing is Deep Faker (偽顏) by Yama, which I LOVE and I think it fits with Wren and Asuka’s conversation.

Asuka belongs to @imperfectnothing

Naz and Yael belong to @lookatmysillies

Tagging: @alien-til-i-stage @apple8ees @chevalperd @friedclownshrimp @4listr @messengers-of-the-gods @nottoonedin @starry-skiez @verdantlights @yunoftheclouds @awaggaa @apriciticreveries @billwasnot @junebluues

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