Duality;Solaris Vol. 1

Chapter 5-2: What Lies Under the Moonlight

         Hoping to entice John with a modicum of a reaction, Roy's look to John reveals little more than a melancholic, unresponsive look forward to the long street ahead. Roy cannot help but reflect on this. Shame bubbles at the depths of his injured stomach. The topic brought up in such a way could be seen as insensitive, now that he thinks about it. Selfish even, for such as a reason of escape from irrational fears like this. As much as he had come to terms with things, it was always a question if John did, too. The err on the side of sadness washes over Roy in one of his rare cases of uncertainty. Just as he wallows in something familiar to him, John speaks.

"Gone for two years, living with this uncle of yours, and, still, you come back fighting as recklessly as you always have been. You know I have to ask." John stoically speaks with nothing more showing in his voice than the strain of carrying the man that he is calling out. Obviously, straining in something that Roy is struggling—or would struggle—breaking a sole sweat in doing; only strengthening the point in his mind.

Raising a finger of the hand wrapped around John's neck, "Nearly two years~", Roy jests as he maneuvers around a stack of red-solo cups as they cross the street.

"Did you learn nothing from him?" A fire underlines his words. Finally, catching Roy face-to-face, eye-to-eye, as he shifts his head back to Roy.

"Eh.. Bro. That's not what I was doing there." The hesitance cracking in Roy's voice with every word spoken. He goes to lightly scratch his cheek with his free hand, the second-hand embarrassment Roy was emitting must of been nothing short of immense.

They pause. The haunting whispers fill in the silence between the bickering duo. John detaches from his mortal shell of embarrassment as he buries it down deep. The answer being too important for him to be stopped by something as small as the fool he seemed to make of himself here to be. Cool as a cucumber, "What was it you learned there?"

"Control," Roy immediately answered.

The trudging becoming more of a waddling, the two make it across the street and onto the sidewalk in preparation for that eventual turn. The closer proximity to each returning crevasse passed, shined dim and digital light upon the festering life that could be heard echoing off. Be it shady fellows to the scavenging rodents, none had the care to be disturbed from their current vices. Yet, this was paid little attention to by John. For all John could care about, at this moment, is the absurd answer that his 'bro' just gave him. "Control?" John agitatedly teases, "Control of what, violence? You might want to ask your uncle for some kind of refund on that one."

Roy, instead of peeved, began to chuckle, and then, fully laugh. This caused John to chuckle a bit, albeit unsure as to what Roy thought was so funny. The two laughed as they passed through an intersection or two; their turn in sight, the clinic not too far off.

"Yeah, yeah," Roy waves off, "'No one succeeds without effort. Those who owe their success to perseverance.' Violence may still be my means, but I now know how to use it properly for my own goals."

"We're quoting people now?" John asks in a whimsical expression, yet he is the only one looking at the other he is talking towards. Beside him, Roy's eyes glance at the hazy darkness anchored to their backs. The shadows begin to outline those of the idle that once hid in aisles of passing dank crevasses. Their vices now enjoyed, their urges now satisfied.

Far enough behind to not require anything drastic, but the warning signs are there. They're not in any position to fight— much less run.

"'Ambition never comes to an end', especially for those with vague goals, " John ripostes, "And, by the looks of it, I wouldn't call this much of a success either." Motioning his own free arm at the sight of his dear buddy carried beside him.