Venin laughs weakly through the haze of slag, and of blood.
"Sorry to f-flip the script on you," his voice is hoarse and faint, halting and faltering, "usually th-the severe injury is your w-wheelhouse."
He's smiling, somehow, even past the veins of his face and eyes dyed indigo– with a death grip on Kelley's jacket. His lips are blue– from the slag, cold, or shock setting in, who can say? He's blinking, visibly struggling to stay conscious.
"Y-y-you've alw-w-ways been the one better-er at talkin'," his eyes are crossed, "J-just talk about an-n-nything. P-please."
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((I've been sitting on this all night hdjdgsjdg @askthepandoranhero sry I wrote a book this was supposed to be a small aside))
"Kelley– I don't even know if you're getting these transmissions–
I'm kinda hoping you aren't–
It's been a while since anyone's seen you. All of Caveglo is in a tizzy, King actually had An Emotion in their voice, and they're all–"
A rough sigh.
"We're all really scared."
Pacing footsteps.
"The garbled transmissions we've been getting... we assume from you– however they're being sent– haven't been setting anyone at ease on how you're doin. The only thing we're sure of is it's bad.
No one is gonna be the one to say what we're all thinking, but you could be–"
There's a solid ten seconds of dead air.
A deep breath.
"...We don't know if you're gonna make it out of this alive."
Some background noise– footsteps, a door being gently opened and then shut, the drone of many different nighttime insects, hushed counting.
There's a long pause– just the sounds of cicadas, crickets.
"I'm... sorry. You're so patient."
Shifting.
"You've been putting in the effort to care about me so long, and I have so much to make up for. ...I'm sorry you had to wait so long, for me to even admit we're friends–"
Sharp exhale.
"Hotel can't see you. She's adamant you're alive but she... let it slip to me what that means. I just– even if you are fine, I've wasted so much of your time, energy–"
Empty laugh.
"Tears."
There's another long pause, then a shuffle.
"It's just killing me– to think you might have gone and bit it before I could work up the nerve to apologize to your face."
A loud groan, sliding, a thud.
"If you're dead, I'll be pissed– I still need to say sorry. In person– not all cow like this. So, uh..."
[attached to one of the spring snakes is a small package and a note in bad handwriting that reads, “lov e you! Happ y ApriL foOls day! -Kelle y🌟” the small package seems to be a specialized sniper ammunition
If this didn't almost give me a heart attack, I'd think it was grotesquely sweet. Guess it balances out.
Would you ever use a different element other than acid if you had to? -pandoranherosuggestion
Of course, if I had to. I already do use other elements when it’s more convenient to do so, rather than fight with corrosion. Fighting caustic enemies, for example.Bastards.
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Hey Venin Have you seen my friend? They’re really short, blond, thick rimmed glasses, reallly skinny, likely wearing a bright yellow Hyperion™️ sweatshirt? Really angry? Kinda hard to get along with? -pandoranherosuggestion
I…don’t think I have.What’s someone like that doing on Pandora?Hyperion branded clothes might as well be a target.
(he realized that he didn't have a picture for their contact and felt dumb as hell, so was like "well fuck it, they're right here" and the angle and lighting accidentally came out studio-quality)
LAST TEXT RECEIVED:
"I saw this weird spider and thought of you!! 🌟🌟" with a pic of a horned orbweaver
LAST TEXT SENT:
"funny coincidence, saw this n thought of you" with a pic of a tree sap collection bucket and his prosthetic hand just ✌️ in frame
Venins ear is flush with embarrassment, and he seems uncharacteristically affected. He looks like he desperately wants to stop talking, but he continues.
"You always seem to know what the right thing to do is– not 'correct,' just right. And even when you don't, you have this all-cylinder drive to find what is. You're always thinking about other people– how best to care for and love them, what they need but don't say– and even besides being selfless, you always go full force. You have a passion and fire in your gut that always stays lit, even when drowned down to ember, and you always direct it toward efforts that are just... so... good. Creating, protecting, educating, housing, nurturing."
"You've had a deep, profound affect on my life. I honest to god hoped you'd catch a bullet to the face the first hour we knew each other. You were upbeat and happy with yourself and your family, and I hated that joy. Helping out with that bandit gang leader, whose name," he laughs, "I don't even remember, I was doing it just to get that gun. I could have just taken it, fought you for it, sure, but it was simpler to just help kill someone else. Better for my resume."
"Aaand then we met again. Years later, on a dusty launchpad, with absolutely no idea who you were. I feel... horrendously embarrassed now, but at the time I thought it was weird for you to have remembered me at all. It was new, being recognized. Positively, at least. And you kept keeping an eye out for me. Pulling that rubble off, hiking me up on your shoulder when my leg got whacked, calling out warnings in fights," he pauses, rubbing his hand over his face, "patching me up... by force when I resisted. You just kept acting like I had value. Like I was worth something, more than just another firing gun."
"By the end of that vault, I wanted to run. It wasn't new, and I'd listened to it every single time up to that point. But... I didn't yet. I was furious with myself at the time, but I knew it was because I didn't want to leave you behind. Or– or Tim, to a lesser extent– but I knew you were a dual deal. I knew you weren't gonna leave yet, and Tim was in too deep to just cut and run, so I... stayed. Everything in me was screaming to run as fast and as far from all of it as I could, but I didn't budge. I think... I think I wanted to stay to try and convince you to leave. That what you wanted to do there wasn't gonna pan out right. To try and find a way to sever the two of you from that place, so you could come with me. But I couldn't find the right words, and I never found an easy sever."
He rubs his face again.
"So I figured if the two of you were stuck there because of one guy, then him being dead would simplify things."
"I knew you didn't want that. I know why, too. And with a newer perspective, I... understand. I was horrible. I did horrible things. You don't even know about most of it, but you could always have assumed. But you... are the type of person who gives people chances to change. I like to think I took mine. He... just didn't take his. But at the time, killing him seemed like the easy answer. So I tried a blundering, amateurish poisoning. Well, he wasn't exactly an idiot. Didn't even take a sip of the coffee, probably knew from my face and all. Almost strangled me. Decided a moonshot crater would be a more fitting grave."
He waves a hand dismissively, as though this were a normal, boring point of conversation. His face is a grim contrast.
"I sat in the guilt of it for months. I'd never slighted someone and cared before. I was so angry at myself, so expectant that you'd hate me. I was so scared of hurting you, that I never reached out. In my mind I'd convinced myself he'd already told you, and that you'd have wanted nothing to do with me whatsoever. And then suddenly... you called. Needed help. You were finally getting out. I'm not exaggerating when I say I nearly jumped the balcony rail in my rush." He laughs a little, scratching the back of his head, "You know how that went."
"I felt that same guilt all over again. If I'd stayed, maybe I could have helped prevent... all that. You were hurt. Hurt so... so badly. And so deeply affected. I was tearing myself apart trying to think of ways to help. So frustrated and angry with myself, that you could be such a beacon of hope and helpfulness, and that I was utterly useless to give you any help or hope. I'd taken you for granted. You offer so much and I couldn't manage to give you anything."
He's furiously rubbing his eyes. His face is awash with shame.
"And you healed. Not just physically. ...And again, you had my back. Helping me when you could and sending others when you couldn't. Checking on me at home, asking how I'm holding up during missions, always bringing enough food with you to share. We went through so much crazy shit together. And through all of it, your hand on my shoulder became a grounding comfort. You're..."
He pauses for a long moment.
"You're like... a fixed point. Or a landmark. I always know where I am if I have you there."
"You're one of the precious few I consider a friend, and the even more precious and fewer that I'd dare calling my family."
He slaps a hand over his mouth, hiccuping a small sob, his eyes wide.
