laytondressing | 'Cause Descole's a Creative Genius

[He places an arm around her and rubs her arm lightly. It's kind of nice, it's like comforting himself, since he doesn't trust anyone, he feels like she's more someone to trust.]

I dunno. I had a hard time believing it when you told me. I thought you were like a spy looking for information. I dunno...hmm I'm just paranoid...

I guess that... I can understand that, double. I'd have been suspicious of you if I'd met you just as I arrived... But then, I s'pose it makes sense we'd be as paranoid as each other.

[It feels... odd, to let someone hold her like this, after so long. She doesn't think she'd be able to be like this with anyone else, either, especially if she were sober. But with her double... it's different. It doesn't feel like a risk to be open with him, like it would with anyone else.]

[Knowing that her double feels the same, he smiles lightly.]

We're very similar.

Did you ever have to deal with therapists? I hate therapy. I hate the medication they'd always prescribe me. It's so annoying. I'd been going for years. My mother insisted, even after I moved out and went to college. She still insisted to pay, and y'know. I can't just up and say no, she's my mum!

Well whatever. Point is, I don't need to take 'em anymore.

[He sips another drink and sighs. Now he was opening up. It was only a matter of time before the alcohol would get to him.]

I've... never had that, no. Maybe therapy would have helped sometimes, but... it'd have meant talking. So maybe not.

[She curls herself closer to her double, nudging his hand down so that she can take a sip from his glass herself.]

Talking to you feels different, though. Talking to you... it's not scary.

[He nods with a snicker.]

I know! It's like literally talking to myself in female form. It's better therapy then I've had from those hacks.

[He took his drink again and sipped it.]

I bet if I took this mask off right now, you'd be super underwhelmed. How much do you want to bet?

I'm not taking that bet. Well, at least I'd get a reminder of what my face looks like with both eyes, though.

[She grins up at him, pulling the drink over to herself again.]

I'd like it if you did take it off. But if you don't want to then I don't mind that either. You're pretty even with it on.

[Descole laughs and shakes his head.]

Trust me, I'm only pretty with it on.

Eh, I don't need it on. Why does it matter? Who does it matter to? Not me. No one but you is here to see me, and if there was some one else, who cares, right? Of course right.

[Before she can say anything, he reaches up and pulls the mask off his face, revealing bright blue eyes, much like her eye, and longer eyelashes.]

See? Nothing to hide. I'm quite boring.

[Descole reaches up to touch above his eye, the one that's missing on her. It's odd to see a face like her own with both eyes, after so long... and he has girlier eyelashes than her! She laughs at that.]

I think you look pretty with it off. You're prettier than I am. You're prettier than I was even when I had both my eyes.

Perhaps it's the alcohol or the narcissism. Or both. But I think I'd like to kiss you. If you'd let me.

[Thinking about it for a second he nods. Should he let her? It could only end in heartbreak for her, he hoped that doesn't mean she wouldn't like him after. Well, it's just a kiss. Whatever he did, he could not let them have sex. In his drunken state though, anything was possible, he couldn't let that happen.]

You think I'm prettier than you? Ha! No. But you think I'm that pretty? Really?

Well, if you really want to kiss me, I'll allow it. But we can't get any farther from there, okay? If we do...I dunno what might happen.

[He smiles anyway, hoping he didn't discourage her.]

I don't think your ego could survive getting me in bed anyway, double. I mean. If the way I ended up being with Don Paulo shows anything. I... I cried a few times. And-- well. I'm not very good at it. And I know how much I need my ego. So I assume it's the same for you.

[She shakes her head, leaning up instead.]

What am I talking about? Yes, I think you're that pretty. You're the prettiest man I've ever met. Does that make me vain? I guess it doesn't matter.

[Descole shuts her eye, leaning closer to kiss him hard, though she keeps it chaste otherwise.]

I think we're both a little vain.

[He smiles at her after she kisses him and laughs a little.]

Sorry, I'm not the best kisser. At least, so I've heard from some sources. You, on the otherhand, seemed to have mastered that skill. I guess its only fitting. One of us is goof at kissing, the other is good at fucking.

[He laughs at his own profanities and shakes his head. Another sip of his drink eggs him on to hold her again, which he does thoughtfully.]

I think you're a perfectly good kisser. You're pretty, you're good at kissing, and now you say you're good in bed too? You have everything, double, you're so lucky.

[Curling back up close to him, Descole steals his drink again to down the last of it.]

I used to be good at fucking. Layton ruined that, I s'pose. Maybe I'll work it out again eventually. I'd like to.

Aw, thanks, double.

[Patting her head lightly he shakes his.]

Don't worry it'll come back. My stepfather thought he'd destroy my sex life...well no. I have it all worked out finally and I can fuck whoever I want...

...Well except girls...I'm still not good at fucking girls.

[Oh god, what was he saying? The alcohol was surely getting to him. He hated when this happened, but hate it or not, he drank anyway.]

Mmm... I bet you are, really. I mean, you're good at kissing even though you say you're not.

[Descole tilts her head into his touch a little more. It's weird, to be able to let someone close like this after so long, and up until now she'd never realised how much she missed it. She knows that she might not be so open when she's sober, even with him. That everything might still be too much without the buzz. So she's trying to make the most of it now, resting her head on his chest now with a slight sigh.]

...you're warm, double.

Hm, thanks.

[He sighs and shakes his head. He knows he'll never be this open to anyone sober either. He sighs downwards and shakes his head.]

You think? I'm usually really cold. My doctor says it's bad insulation. You're warm though. I think you're warm, thanks for that.

[He takes another sip of his drink and snickers.]

I'm tired. Are you tired? Jeez, alcohol makes me tired.

M'always tired, double. I don't really sleep.

[Which is true. She sleeps better since she wound up here, but she's still not getting the amount she needs, and Descole knows it. If she ever feels safe, she thinks she'll end up having to go into hibernation or some-such to actually make up for how little she sleeps.]

I can't tell if the alcohol makes it worse. Maybe. But it lets me... be like this, too. And I wish I could be like this more. So if it makes me more tired then I don't mind that in return for being able to... get close like this.

Being close to someone like this... it feels warm. Did I say that already? I don't want to move, double. I don't think I can stand up anyway.

[Keeping track of her thoughts is too much hard work, right now. Everything feels warm and comfortable, and Descole hasn't felt this relaxed in a long time. Certainly not the last time that she got drunk.]

[Descole nods in agreement. He hates to think about how long it had been since he'd felt so comfortable. Sure he had a home and people he cared about, but no one he felt comfortable with. Leave it to his double to feel that way.]

I don't think I can stand either. I don't want to move also. I like this. I like you. You're like me, only nicer.

I always thought if I were to meet myself, I'd hate that jackass. Guess not.

Well... I s'pose I had to like someobody, and I hate everyone else, so it makes sense for me to like you so much...

[Descole makes a quiet noise in the back of her throat at that, trying to curl into a tighter ball against her double.]

I feel... a little too hot still. But...

[But taking off any more clothes would mean that he'd see the worst of the scars, and Descole is very conscious of them again now.]

[Descole shakes his head and sighs.]

You can take off more layers. I don't mind. Just I need to remember its not an invite to sex. No I'm just kidding, I wouldn't do that to you.

[He finishes off his glass again and laughs.]

Our life, double. Our life.

[After a moment's hesitation, Descole nods, though her hands shake a little as she unbuttons her shirt and pulls it off. She's kind of a mess underneath it, though her front isn't as bad as her back - except for her chest. Even with her bra in place, the tops of the letters carved there are still visible. Glancing down, she shudders at the sight of them, curling herself up against her double again so that the scars are hidden a little more.]

I. He... that was the worst of what Layton did. Because... the rest I can forget, even. I can make excuses, but--

[She cuts herself off, shaking her head and burying her face in his chest.]

[Descole holds her close as she tries to hide from her own body.]

You're still more beautiful than these scars.

[Before he says anything more, he takes his shirt off quickly, letting her keep close to him, revealing his scars. Just like her, there are many, and on his arms are the faint words saying "ugly" and "fat" and a brighter ans slightly fresher one saying "queer". He sighs as hw let's her see them.]

Just...know you're not alone. I know what it's like. M'here.

[Descole lifts her head a little, opening her eye again to stare at her double's scars. She doesn't even know how to respond to that. So she just wraps her arms around him tighter and presses her face to his shoulder.]

Now I definitely wish you luck in killing the man who did this to you.

[Falling silent, she shuts her eye and sighs quietly.]

Things like that... your scars, and my scars... things like that are why I hate people, double. Because I feel like anyone could do that to me now. I mean... it was Layton who did it to me. And I feel like... if Layton could do that, then... He was always so calm. No matter what I did. Hell, he was calm even as he carved me up.

But... I'd always trusted him, before. If I had nothing else constant in my life, even when I couldn't remember anything else, Layton would be there. And no matter what I did, he'd be calm. He'd be constant. So for him to do that to me... I thought that if he could do that, then I must be so hateful. That if he'd been pushed into losing that calm long enough to decide to do what he did... then I must be so hateful as a person that there was nothing to stop anyone else from hurting me like that.

[Descole nods at her story, hating that he agrees with her.]

You know, these scars don't have to define you, y'know? Don't get me wrong, I think you should kill him, but they aren't you, y'know.

Shit, what am I talking about? I'm so drunk.

[He snickers lightly and sighs.]

But don't worry about me double. I promise, I'll kill that man before he kills me. Thanks for the luck though.

[She makes a quiet noise of agreement in the back of her throat and bites her lip.]

Mmm. I understand what you mean. You're the first person that... I feel like I've understood like this. Like I've connected properly. I mean... perhaps there were others, but in the time I can remember, the only other person--

[Cutting herself off, Descole pulls back from him abruptly. The only other person was Layton, she'd been about to say. And now she's back in exactly the same position she was with Don Paulo. All she can think of is Layton, what he did to her. Shuddering, she curls in on herself, hugging her knees tight to her chest.]

M'sorry. Sorry, double. I just-- I'm okay. I'll be okay. I'm so sorry, double. I just...

[Trailing off, she lets out a massive sob, burying her face in her knees.]

[Descole looks at her in shock a moment and curls his knees up to his chest. He remembers his brother walking in after his stepfather beat him. Simon would cry for him, not knowing what to do. And Descole could only sit and watch.]

[But this time was different. He was looking after himself. Or herself. Either way, he was comforting some one with her own problems. Seeing her cry the same way he would when he was alone, made him tear up.]

[No, he would remain strong.]

I-It's okay...I'm sorry...d-don't cry. You're gonna make me cry.

[He moved closer to her and placed his hand on her should gently, trying not to startle her.]

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