capeandcowl | twenty-three. voice.

Entry tags:

† katurian katurian | the pillowman

twenty-three. voice.

[Katurian sounds tired and frail. His voice carries its usual tremor.]

As a human being-- like all human beings, I make a tremendous amount of mistakes. A tremendous amount. I'm not a role model. That isn't-- That isn't something I could say.

[Vocalizing those words nearly kicks his breath away. Pause. Then, feverishly:]

I wanted to apologize for the state I found myself in this last week, a state in which-- in which many of you saw me, and I wanted to let everyone know that it was my fault. I thank you for your concern, I really do, but the most important thing for any of you to know is that it was my fault. And I don't want pity, that's never something I want, even if it seems like a very easy thing to give, even if it seems like I deserve it, because I don't deserve pity and I don't want it either. That doesn't mean I deserve to be treated like shit, g-granted, I don't want to see anyone using that as a fucking excuse, but I-- I'm--

[He catches himself. Breathes.]

But I'm all right.

[Click.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You have no idea what I sacrificed for that. For you. Ungrateful twat.

Edward. I'm very grateful, I-- you don't have any idea how grateful I am. [His voice wavers unmistakably.] Please.

And yet, you won't correct those idiots who thought I had caused you to become that thing. You won't tell them how valiant I had been, how I saved you when I didn't have to. Katurian Katurian, take take take.

[Beat. And then.]

-- Andrew even powdered you and tried unsuccessfully to feed you. He thought you were angry with him -- catatonic as passive-aggressive anger, what a silly assumption -- and have you even relieved him of why?

Edited 2011-12-24 04:49 (UTC)

I told everyone it was my fault. That should absolve you of responsibility.

You're silly, if you think that would stop them.

[He swallows, his voice rough. There is no rebellion now. There is no bitterness or beaten down rage.]

Should I make an amendment?

[He presses his tongue against his teeth, pushing air out. Ttch.]

Why? What's the point now? Your intent has already been made clear.

I was afraid of drawing negative attention to you. All right? I was afraid of drawing negative attention.

You tend to do that naturally, don't you? But look, look how you say pretty words without any substance behind them. Logically, if you fear Desire, of course it already knows. Acknowledging your hero wouldn't make it angrier. I've already pissed it off in favor of helping you. It hasn't forgotten.

And I don't believe you fear the self-righteous here, do you? You're not quite that pathetic. So therefore it's not drawing negative attention to me -- it's drawing claims of my association with you.

No. No, that's wrong and-- and you can use your abilities to feel that I'm not lying, you can use them to know that every word out of my mouth right now is the truth. It's the truth. I don't trust ninety-nine percent of the people in this fucking City.

[Pause. He's said too much. Then, calmer:]

I don't trust what would happen if I gave them a name. Because I tend to do it naturally, that's right, I tend to attractive negative attention.

I owe everything to you.

[A longer pause, and then.]

More or less, yes. You do.

I owe you my writing.

[Gleefully, now:] Oh, the thing you care about most, owed to me. And I'm not even going to use it to hurt you, I'm not even going to leash you.

[Beat.]

I feel that Desire is no longer immediately among us. It has withdrawn.