exsiliumlogs | less a hobby and more an outlet [OPEN]

Jericho scrunched up a little, ready to shrink or scoot if he needed to, but there seemed little demand. His head, still ducked forward a ways, tilted as he listened. Training, huh? He smiled a little. He could forget things like war in this place for fragments of time, but training never went away.

He wrote another line below the first, swiping quickly at flecks of graphite spattered from pressing too hard on a t crossed.

Did you get any water afterward?

If...training for hedgehogs was at all the same as people. Jericho wouldn't know, but it seemed a good thing to ask.

Oh. Well, he certainly expected a bad, bad reaction from admitting to this, but he wasn't about to lie for no good reason. Shadow sank down into the ground a little, twisting his head away and looking at a nearby cockroach skittering about. Well, that made him crinkle his nose up. Ew.

"No. I have little need for water. I need to regenerate more Chaos Energy."

It was as simple as that, but given humans required more water than he did, he was sure he would get a lecture for that.

Well, just avoiding eye contact wasn't going to get Shadow out of a better explanation than that. Sure, Jericho couldn't argue about the water thing – what did he know about talking hedgehogs and water? – but the other part was new. Worded a little, well...unpleasantly? Chaos Energy?

He leaned forward, peering, waiting for Shadow to take notice and, y'know, indulge his curiosity.

Ah, that curiosity... Shadow couldn't be surprised by that, either, but he hadn't expected such a mild reaction to his lack of water. It wasn't unwelcome, at any rate, so he immediately dropped it, moving onto the current subject matter. At last, he glanced back over to him, his expression mild as opposed to his usual irritated stance.

"Chaos Energy... I live on it. The concept of Chaos is mysterious, unknown. I still do not know everything about it," he admitted, curling his hand in front of him and letting a few wisps of green-hued glowing power dance within his palm. "All that is known about it... is that it is the ultimate energy, the strongest one known to man. Only those with talented handling are worthy of using it."

Should it fall into the wrong hands, however...

Well, he wasn't going to want to think about that.

Edited 2012-11-23 16:11 (UTC)

Jericho's stare dropped to the brief flecks and glows of green in Shadow's hand, mouth molded in a silent sound of wonder. His Earth was full of strange powers and magic things, both good and bad; he hadn't known them all first-hand, isolated as he'd been, but it didn't keep him from believing. The green looked almost like a wrongly colored fire, like...what was that guy's name again? Hotshot? Something like that...

If he was really honest, Jericho would've realized he was jealous of people like that. Really powerful people – the kind that seemed to be able to do exactly what they wanted with little resistance. The kind with powers that were so outwardly outstanding and easy to notice...But someone like him with something like that? It truly wouldn't mix, jealousy or not. He didn't really understand of all the trouble that came from it – the unwanted fear or retaliation, the isolation it imposed at times.

He just thought it looked really neat. Beautiful, almost. Especially powers like Raven's or Starfire's or Beast Boy's.

Welcome to thirteen-years old and having weirder powers.

In any case, there in the moment with Chaos Energy and grumpy hedgehogs, Jericho's mouth drew a thoughtful line, glancing up from the hand and giving Shadow a look to match, washed in a bit of doubt. That was the stuff that'd destroyed so many people on that mission, after all...So what was using whom? Or was it the other way around?

Maria was a pacifist. She never wanted to do anyone harm.

Seeing that look on Jericho's face, how much it mirrored hers, the memory of their conversation... all of that combined made Shadow draw his energy back in, hesitance stirring within his chest and belly and making him feel a little nauseous. He had to wonder, if Maria saw him kill so many people, would she have feared him? Would she have abhorred him? Would she have never trusted him, loved him, and cared about him the way she did?

Just the thought of that made him want to reel and vomit. What if- What if she wasn't proud of him and what he did? What if?

His hands dropped down, pressing into the ground, and he gave this look, this expression of genuine worry. It didn't last long - if anything, it only crossed his face for a second - but it was there, the purest concern possible, intermixing with a twinge of fear.

"Does this bother you?"

If the teen looked closely, he might have noticed Shadow's ears droop a meager amount.

Edited 2012-11-23 19:20 (UTC)

Taught to watch and listen with care, Jericho didn't miss the meaning behind the bit of slumping, the look of worry and unease. It was starkly different from what he'd seen in the fight, but...that's how it had to be, maybe? Raven was a good person, truly, but knew how to level that with what needed to be done to help people.

...She didn't kill anyone, though. Jericho's eyes winced a little with his own doubts, having to break the stare to look away. His pencil tapped against the page a couple times, not offering any help as to what to say in reply. Just more little grains of graphite dusting the surface. When he did write, he was slower, dragging out some letters more than he needed to in order to give himself time to think. Here and there he stopped, half-turning the pencil to erase, half of the time not even following through, shaking his head as he went. One big, heavy breath and a shrug of his shoulders and he was ready to sit up and tilt the page to be read:

I guess I don't really know. I'm not as smart about things as I wish I was. I'm worried it's maybe something that'll make you do bad things.

"I... already have."

Not something he's proud to admit to, but he couldn't feel compelled to lie to this child. Shadow's eyes squeezed shut and he bit down on his lip, his nails clawing into his gloves, fabric into the layer of dirt over concrete.

"I will tell you this tale, and you will likely not be pleased with it. I'm not the type to sugarcoat, so... I'll warn you."

He finally stood, body wracked with tension as he took two steps forward, idly kicking at a nearby hunk of rock, making it roll just a small ways. He began with his story, the words coming as if he spoke them many times before, despite that not being true.

"Fifty years ago, the military of Earth wished to create the Ultimate Lifeform. Their head scientist, Gerald Robotnik, aimed to shape a creature with unlimited power of sound, mind, and body, able to overpower any being and destroy all diseases. His main motivation..."

He sucked in a quivering breath. "His main motivation was a little girl named Maria, his granddaughter. She was born with the disease called Neuro-immunodeficiency Disorder, one that would wrack her brain, her nerves, and her immunity for the rest of her life. She lived on the ARK, sterilized to protect her body, as her grandfather worked on the Ultimate Life. Finally, he created the first prototype, codenamed the Biolizard, but it was deemed a hazard for lacking control over its violent tendencies. The military became wary of any further attempts at the perfect, immortal being, and so they intervened... by aiming to kill everyone on that space colony, imprisoning Robotnik, and wiping the existence of any and all prototypes. I was the only prototype succeeding the Biolizard, and I was likely to be the final one. I simply had to undergo more testing, but they reached us before it could happen. Maria..."

Shadow felt his lower lip quiver. No, no, none of that. He wasn't about to just start wibbling and wailing in front of a young boy. That would be foolish.

"They killed her in cold blood. She sent me to this planet, to Earth, in a capsule, but I was imprisoned for a total of fifty years since. The humans reached me just as I'd made my landing. Before she-... Before she died, she asked something of me. I'd failed to remember her wish correctly, and I'd aimed to destroy Earth utilizing the technology of the ARK. I very nearly had, but then... It was then that I remembered her. Her wish. She wished for me to protect the same species who turned against her. I fought to end the apocalypse I'd created, and I succeeded, but not without falling towards Earth to what I thought would be my death. Instead, I found myself awakening here, and..."

He trailed off, feeling his shoulders tremble, the rest of his body as limp as plastic.

"I'd... nearly killed an entire race of humans, the very opposite of what she wanted me to do. In hindsight, after those events occurred, I feel that I've- I've failed her."

He stopped, head hanging low. It was his fault. Because of him, the humans Maria wanted him to protect were in danger. He nearly killed them all when his duty was to protect them.

Needless to say, he was just a little bit guilty.

Jericho's pencil and sketchbook found themselves set carefully on the ground beside him as he listened. He watched with a mounting sense of anxiousness; the mood of the story dictated it. His stomach clenched tightly, hearing the story turn for the worse. For a superhero, Jericho hadn't had a rough time of it, kept hidden away on a mountaintop until Beast Boy found him...It was really hard to imagine the horrible time Shadow had, choices that were made. And that poor girl...

He felt his own eyes sting, much less ashamed of tears than the other was. After scraping at a ruddy cheek in the silence, he shifted, rising to his knees and shuffling a bit to draw nearer, reaching out and, with only a slight hesitation, clasping a hand on the hedgehog's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He wore a sad, empathetic look, a strong echo to the words he'd sent days before.

I'm really sorry, Shadow.

Shadow wasn't about to disapprove of the comforting gesture, but he wasn't about to accept it in full either. He shook his head, gently shrugged the shoulder to nudge him off, an uneven sigh coming from him. For one, he would be fine. He was in control now. Secondly, well...

"I nearly eliminated your entire race. I don't require sympathy."

Callous wording aside, it was less denying sympathy and more asserting that it wasn't something he should be getting in the first place. He didn't deserve the sympathy.

Of course, he wasn't about to get all mopey. He preferred the idea of just ending it there, and so he moved, sitting back where they once were and staring as another little rat shuffled into view. It looked like it had a hunk of... something in its mouth. Was that a piece of old turkey someone threw out? Gross.

The boy remained upright on his knees for a little while longer, frowning unhappily at the ground. He didn't agree. Really, it sounded a great deal less cut-and-dry the more he learned about it – it being...whatever made Shadow Shadow, anyhow.

He slumped and scooted backward against the wall again, nestled between the sketchbook and the hedgehog with his knees drawn up. Even in glimpsing the rat making its way along with its meal did little to energize him; he had no desire to draw anymore. Not rats, anyhow.

Man...if only he hadn't left his guitar to ruin in that garden...

The mood that hang in the air was thick with distress and gloom. Not even a knife could cut through it, no; they'd need a wrecking ball. It was getting to him, making Shadow irked and more uncomfortable about his presence in general, but not because of anything he did.

He didn't want this. Who ever said he did?

He wished he wasn't the Ultimate Life. He wanted to be normal, innocent, happy, much like Jericho and much like Maria. Instead, from his very first month, he underwent more tragedy and pain than most people ever would in their lives.

He hated it.

He wasn't about to sit and dwell further. He didn't want to just sit around and brood (no matter how often he did so beyond his control), so he decided to keep himself busy. He nudged at the sketchbook, not grabbing it, but eyeing it curiously.

"I... never have tried to draw, not for years."

The last time he drew was just shoddy crayon work with Maria, anyway. Maybe he could try again, but he wasn't sure if Jericho would be willing to let him borrow his sketchbook for a single doodle.

The first impulse was to snatch the book back, hide it before Shadow could rifle through and see what scribbles and etchings were already there, but...that didn't seem to be his goal, so Jericho eased out of the tense posture he'd drawn into at the start. He glanced down at it, face heated from feeling foolish, still filled with that small burst of adrenaline, a little slow to pick up on what Shadow had said. He did, though, giving him a glance before gathering the book up in his hands, staring at it for a moment. Aside from the words he'd scrawled, it was a pretty empty page, but he turned it over anyway, patting the ground beside him blindly for the pencil, scraping it up and handing the both of them over with a still-uncertain look. Did he want to try? Or was he just saying it to say something...?

Oh, well, now. That wasn't exactly what he'd wanted to draw out of him, a fearful reaction. To see him fork over the pencil and paper so easily, though, made him feel uncertain. Should Shadow just take something so personal, even if it was just for a second?

He shook his head, yet he grabbed the pencil anyway, fingering it and twirling it carefully between his digits. He spoke softly, not much more than a fleeting whisper, eyes on the yellow paint that covered wood and lead.

"You could just rip me a sheet of paper. There is no need for the whole book."

He looked up to him knowingly, albeit a bit hopefully. Would that be enough to ease his fretting?

Jericho shook his head quickly, wrapping his arms around his legs and hugging them to himself, making it very apparent he wasn't going to make a fuss or hurry to grab the book back. He tried to make his face reflect that reassurance, but it looked a little queasy on him for how muddled up and anxious he felt. After all that sad talk, it was hard for him to really turn around, find the right way to go or feel...But letting Shadow do that seemed a whole lot better, he thought.

"Hn... very well."

Shadow went straight to work then, utilizing that empty page as well as he could. He was in no way the pinnacle of fine art, but he tried his best to come with a drawing that was at least somewhat accurate.

That really was as best as he could remember her. It made him smile in a most bittersweet manner to see her immortalized on paper, yet it flickered away as sadness tried to bubble to the surface again.

Maria.

She still looked beautiful to this day.

Perhaps a little on the rude side (but not intentionally so), Jericho leaned and stared with big, unblinking eyes as Shadow drew. He could easily guess what was coming to life on the page, but didn't feel compelled to make it known and interrupt.

His mouth tugged a little on one side, giving the smile a crooked look while the last few pencil strokes fell and settled on the page. That poor girl is really important to him, isn't she? It was sad to think, but a relief to know. Truly awful people only cared about themselves, after all.

Shadow honestly didn't mind. He had eyeballed his work, as well, so it was really only fair. The way he wanted to express her beauty made it all the more important that others should see it, that others should admire her the way he did. She deserved it.

"Your hair reminds me of hers," he spoke tenderly, brushing fingertips over the indented lines made by the borrowed pencil. "The same shade, the same thickness."

He missed it.

He missed her.

Jericho's brow pinched with sympathy, not quite successful at a smile. It was touching, truly, to be compared to someone so admired and respected, but at the same time...a mix of troublesome feelings as well. A childish part of him was a little uncertain he liked being compared so readily to a girl, while a more sensible part was worried he was going to be held up to such high expectations – expectations he only knew in pieces from Shadow.

Maybe, he couldn't help but wonder, being that familiar to that girl was more harm than good? Or was it the other way around? He couldn't be sure. But Jericho wasn't going to tell Sahdow to buzz off just for that...he could do that anytime he wanted, after all. And company was nice, even if it was a little uncomfortable at the moment.

Poor guy, he thought, his head tilting against his knees as he watched.

Shadow sat in silence, nibbling down on his lower lip. Seeing her face, seeing everything about her, it all brought back so many memories, especially being around a kid so much like her. He had to wonder, what if Jericho could speak? Would his voice be as smooth and melodic as hers? As comforting? He would have liked that.

Well, he wasn't going to let the tense air permeate the area for much longer. He shook his head and handed him his pencil and sketchbook again, drawing intact.

"Here. Thank you."

His tail was wagging a little. He wasn't sure if that was involuntarily out of happiness or out of discomfort, but he gathered that it might have been the former. Maybe. Perhaps.

Jericho uncurled out of his crunched-up posture to extend his hands to accept both book and pencil, but stopped short, stuck suddenly with a notion. One hand lifted up enough to shake, opposing the offering before his wrist flicked down pointing at the pencil, tapping the bottom corner of the page. With his other hand he, mimicked the act of writing, while his lips drew back in extra emphasis of the word he couldn't say aloud.

Sign.

Ah...

Aha, aw. Shadow got the message quite clearly. He wanted him to sign it, to make a mark of ownership on his own artwork. Jericho undoubtedly didn't want anyone to think he drew this. The idea of that got the corner of his lip tugging upward, doing so beyond his control, and... was that a little purr? That just might have been.

"Fine. One moment."

He pressed the pencil back down on paper, only for a brief moment to sign his name in lovely letters:

The boy grinned, feeling strangely pleased by the simple act. He couldn't really explain why if he had to, but it was just enough to ease some of the queasiness in his stomach.

With that done, he nodded his approval, accepting the book back at last. Once he'd pressed his thumb down on the pencil against the page to keep it from rolling away, he drew his free hand to his lips, letting it drop down, palm-up as he mouthed thank you.

A soft, pleasant hum was all he gave in response, that persistent grin still trying his muzzle despite his growing desire to eliminate it. Shadow rose, taking to stretching his fingers all the way down to his toes, bending and curving to flex out every muscle in his body again.

"Mm, this will do."

He straightened back up, feeling plenty more refreshed and rejuvenated. He was ready to get back to business, but not without sneaking a glance back at him and curtly nodding. He wasn't sure how to word the feelings stirring within him, urging to release themselves, so he hesitated even as he finally spoke, voice cracking.

"I... appreciated the company."

That would do it.

less a hobby and more an outlet [OPEN]

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