doreimi | IC Inbox | prismatica

i usd to be a cop

Edited 2019-09-04 23:54 (UTC)

No wonder you're such a good guy.

but I guess you must've seen some pretty bad stuff huh

no
im really the worst
a guy like me
im worhtles

i was a cop but they took my badge for what i did

you're not worthless. you're not. i've met someone who's worthless and you're nothing like him.

What do you mean, what you did?

my partner died because of me
because i hesitated shooting a guy

i hesitated because the guy was someone i was taking bribes from
im not just an asshole
im a fucking dirty cop

Why...? Did you need the money?

no

I gave up on my dream

i was tired of shitbags getting off light and protecting the wrong people

I get it. And that's why you thought, if you can't beat them...

That's why you said you weren't like me. Holding out as long as I did. Because you didn't hold out...for your dream.

im useless without someone stronger
i told you that

i cant see anything through to the end
i just give up without someone else telling me what to do

Am I stronger than you?

yes
a lot stronger

Then I'm telling you to listen to me.

Your partner didn't die because of you. Your partner died because of what that other guy did. It wasn't you. And he would tell you the same thing.

I know better than anyone how he'd feel, because I died saving someone and I would never ever think that I died because of the person I saved. I died because a monster killed me. That's all it is.

[for awhile, abbacchio doesn't respond. eventually, though:]

Do you know whats fucked up
he was waiting for me after i died
he wasnt mad at all
or even disappointed

so youre right
i dont get it but youre right

It doesn't stop it from hurting any.

I know it still hurts.

Maybe it won't stop hurting for a long time.

i just kind of accepted its gonna be like this
i dont know

I'm going to come over, okay? Please don't drink any more.

Are you allergic to dogs? I'm going to bring Arnold with me.

yeah
ok

dogs are fine
door's unlocked

[It's hard not to just run the whole way to Abbacchio's residence. She's tempted to; it feels as though she ought to be able to, because in all honesty she doesn't feel that much physically different here than she ever did at home when she was dead. It's not as though she notices her heartbeat now when she didn't before. It's not as though she's warmer or colder; she was solid then, in her alley, so it's not as though she was always intangible.

But she knows full well that if she were to run, she'd wear herself out, both from exerting herself too much and from the strange way she seems to be burning through more Chroma than usual. So she only hurries, as quick as she can manage while still being prudent, and when she reaches his door she knocks before cracking it open and peering inside.]

Abbacchio? It's me. I'm here, I'm coming in, okay?

[Immediately after their conversation ended, Abbacchio thought about just going back to what he was doing. But he isn't that much of a bastard to want to disappoint her, so he stays curled up on the couch, looking hazily at the bottles he's emptied. He really can't remember how many glasses he's had, but he felt too overwhelmed with everything.

Some days are worse than others. Today was bad, and then he felt guilty for not appreciating the people in his newfound life as much as he should. Then it just got bad again, he really didn't need to dump all of his shit onto Reimi.

But she's here, so. Nothing to be done about it now.

The inside of the flat looks a bit like Hot Topic vomited all over it, only with a lot of moon-based decor because that's just how this place is. So it's a lot of dark colors, some of it tacky, some of it tasteful in some sort of weird harmony that works for him.

He smells like wine. The apartment probably does, too.]

...Yeah. Okay. Come in.

[She can smell the wine even before she's taken a step into the apartment; it's heavy in the air, and draws her attention right to the collection of bottles lined up like soldiers waiting to be knocked down. Almost instinctively, she reaches down and rests her hand behind Arnold's ears, seeking the comfort of having him close by as she lets herself in and gently closes the door behind her.]

Hi...

[She doesn't realize it, because it's her own scent, but she's bringing with her an aroma of her own — citrus and spice, clean and sweetly fragrant. Thanks, Cordis.]

I came as fast as I could.

[Under the stench of alcohol, there is Abbacchio's true scent: something like chamomile and Earl Gray, almost comforting for a chilly day. It's weird, but he can smell her and it's... nice. Something different.

He lifts his head, then winces because everything is dizzy and he's fucked himself up.]

I know.

[She'd put her all into everything, wouldn't she?]

Sorry. [And he does honestly feel bad.]

[Looking at him, slumped and curled in on himself like an animal seeking refuge against an impending winter, she's suddenly reminded of the frigid desert and its dropping temperatures, and how he'd appeared from out of nowhere just to offer the warmth of his coat to a complete stranger, just because he didn't want to see her freeze.

He thinks of himself as worthless and miserable, and yet he's still a guy who'd do something like that, huh.]

It'll be okay. I promise.

[She knows better than to tell him that it's okay now. One look at him is more than enough to betray just how not-okay he is.]

Just a second. I'm going to get you some water.

[She says, and after a hesitant moment picks up his used wine glass, because it's the nearest obvious liquid-holding container that she can utilize.]

[Reluctantly, he sets his head back down more comfortably, watching her take his wine glass with various lipstick marks lining up the rim of it. Honestly, he's just glad that didn't go completely all out on make up today or there'd be more stark evidence of his mixed emotions of crying but wanting to tell people how much they're worth. Because he's a useless guy but nobody else has to feel that way.

His eyes glance over to Arnold, and hesitantly Abbacchio holds up his hand for the dog to sniff if he wants. It's not like he's going to force Arnold either way.

It's enough that Reimi even bothered to come see him.]

Sure. Not like I'm going anywhere.

[Arnold is a good boy, and fifteen years of being perpetually at Reimi's side (to say nothing of the time they spent together when they were both alive, from the day she'd picked him out from the rest of the litter as a wriggly fat puppy to the day Kira Yoshikage cut his throat) means that they've long since developed enough of a rapport that he knows what she wants from him, sometimes without even a word from her in indication.

This happens to be one of those times; she takes the glass and goes off to fill it with cool water, and while she does Arnold trots over near where Abbacchio is lying and nuzzles at the offered hand. His nose is cool but dry, soft like velvet, and after a bit of nudging and sniffing, he gives Abbacchio's hand a tiny, almost sympathetic lick.]

[Even just the sniffing would be enough, but the tiny lick to his hand makes Abbacchio huff out some air softly. Turning his hand, he lightly runs his fingers under Arnold's muzzle.]

Good boy.

[He's soft and good. Of course he is. He's been Reimi's best friend for years now, hasn't he? It's lucky, but he's also glad for Reimi. She deserves good companionship.]

You take good care of each other, don't you?

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