Maybe I shouldn't have almost confessed… I do let my love of acting take over a lot, don't I? It did seem like I was acting, in a sense, but he knew that it was true, what I was saying… Roman thought as Virgil walked off before looking at Remus. "Oh, hey there, Remus. I was just about to make breakfast before I got caught up in a conversation with Virgil. You seem to be good this morning, which is great! Well, I'm going to make some food now." Roman then started to make some breakfast.
Sanders Sides Role Play // Closed //
Virgil sat down in an empty corner of his room. He drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them before hiding his face in them. It'll be over soon… He sighed shakily.
They don't actually care. Virgil tensed up, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. They're just lying to make you feel better so they can use you. What could they even use you for? You're useless. You're weak. Just look at you.
Soon Roman was done cooking and he went to check on Virgil. "Virgil, please come out. I made breakfast, and you need to eat. If you're thinking things like the fact that we care about you is fake again, it's not. We all truly care about you. We've talked about this before, and all of them were there. They wouldn't just lie about friendships, and neither would I. Sure, I'll be an actor one day and get into character easily, but the fact that I care about you has nothing to do with it."
"Please leave me alone, Roman…" Virgil replied weakly. He sounded like he may have been crying. "I'm f… fine…" He quickly started rubbing at his tears just in case Roman tried to pick his lock or knock down the door or something. He got to his feet and headed over to the bathroom that was connected to his room, then locking himself in there as well while he dug around in his cupboard. Everything seemed surreal and he hardly even felt like he was present. Was Roman saying something again? He couldn't tell. His breathing was accelerating, and the harsh noise pounded in his ears along with his racing heart.
"Virgil, you're not okay… I want to help you… I want to be your hero, your savior, the one who will end all of the suffering, return you to happiness, and-" Roman cut himself off there after everything became over-dramatic and he once again got close to confessing. He wasn't going to give up on Virgil, for that would be against everything that he desires to be for him. He's not sure how his love of acting might help him here, but he knows that it might be useful, for everything reminds him a lot of a story he's read or seen, and maybe even been in here and there. Knowing all of that can help him, because it would put it into a thing that he loves and understands, though, of course, he still cannot control Virgil or his responses. He is determined to help him, though.
"Go away, Roman… I don't want to hurt you too…" Virgil's voice was only hardly discernible through the doors, and he'd sat down on the bathroom floor by now. He watched drops of his blood spread across the floor, mingling with his tears. I did it… I grounded myself. Thank God. He grabbed a washcloth and cleaned up his floor before he began wrapping his arms with the bandages he kept handy. I think I feel better now…
group
Remus put his glass in the sink before heading to his brothers side. "Need me to pick the lock for ya?" Remus asked as he fished a bobby pin out of his hair. "Also, maybe you should give him a bit space. I know you have the whole," Remus made a heart with his hands. "Thing for Virgil but he needs space. He has anxiety, Roman. You need to be careful!" Remus warned.
"I just keep letting my heroic tendencies take over… I know that he needs space, I know about everything, to be honest, but I still want to help him… Being me, it's hard to just sit around and wait, because time is limited before he decides to end it all… I want to help him somehow… I want to save him, become the hero of the story, and you know the rest, too… There's never much that I can do to help him, but I'd be failing him more if I gave up…" Roman said.
A minute later, Virgil unlocked the door and opened it. His eyeshadow was smudged from crying, and he looked even more drained and empty than before. "What do you want, Roman?" He asked weakly, looking up at him with tired eyes.
"Virgil, I just want to help you… If a hero were to give up in any sort of setting, then would they be a hero? Would there still be the epic story following the protagonist as they work to become a hero? No. It would all be for nothing in the end. If they gave up, they wouldn't save the person that they're trying to save, and then other things that are in the the ending and results from key elements in the protagonist's desire to save the person would never happen… Simply enough, I'd only be failing you more if I stopped trying to help you and gave up, because it would worsen your issues and then I'd be a pointless person who stopped trying…" Roman said.
"Can you just stop with the hero thing for a second? Heroes aren't real, Roman. The world sucks and it's not like people are doing much to fix it. You're a person, okay? Not some… knight in shining armor. A person." Virgil sighed softly, letting his doorframe support most of his weight. "In the real world, bad things happen constantly. To everyone, everywhere, every… every hour, every minute, every second, there are horrible things happening, and there's nothing we can do about it. We can't control natural disasters, or death, or anything. Hell, one of us could die today, and we're still young. No one is safe, Roman. I'm not safe, and neither are you. Neither is Patton, or Remus, or Dee. None of us."
"Well it's my goal to better the world and be a hero to as many as I can, but alas, if what I aspire to do is simply impossible, then I guess I shall leave…" There was something in what Virgil said that had hit Roman in some way, and he didn't know what was going on. He always knew that the world had its issues, but he never saw it like that, always wanting to be the good in the world and believing that there was other good in the world. He wasn't giving up on anything, but he walked away to give Virgil some space. He went to his room, not knowing what else to do, now simply thinking about things, hoping to find a way, though it seems almost impossible at this point.
Virgil hesitated before shutting himself in his room again. He hit his forehead against his door a few times. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" He punctuated each hit with the word. If he didn't hate me before, he does now… He went over to his bed and curled up into a tight ball of guilt and pain, both physical and emotional.
Roman didn't hate Virgil from any of that; he was simply trying to adjust his plan to fix Virgil to one that would be effective rather than one that would not be. It was hard, but it's not like he was ever going to give up or anything. His over-dramatic statement from earlier might seem contrary to what he is doing in the terms of not giving up, but he still refuses to give up.
Virgil pulled out his phone to text Roman.
I'm sorry.
He then tossed the phone next to him on the bed and locked himself in the bathroom again. He tore off the bandages — I don't deserve them, anyway… — and watched fresh blood drip slowly down his arms. Something about the control was calming to him, even if he knew it was unhealthy. It helped him cope, and he didn't want anyone to take that from him.
Roman responded to the text after seeing it, simply saying that there's no reason for Virgil to be sorry.
(Short, I know, but I am not in a good mood right now.)
(No problem <3)
Virgil watched his arms until they stopped actively bleeding and then ran them under the tap to clean them off. Once he was sure they were clean and weren't going to start up again, he cleaned the floor again and flopped down on his bed.
I'm still sorry.
(I am stressed from art class, which is surprising with being a hobby artist, but it's just something that requires perfection, of sorts, and I spent more of the class trying not to hurt anyone and abusing a pen and sketchbook because sometimes BTS isn't enough… Sorry, I needed to rant a bit and my one friend wasn't listening to me.)
Roman texted him back.
Don't be! There's nothing to be sorry about! It's okay, Virgil, really!
group
Remus sighed as he watched the two love birds go in their own separate directions. He knocked on Virgil's door. "Virgey. Can I talk to you?" He asked, hoping the ball of anxiety would answer him.
(Yeah, I'm an artist too and I know how it feels <33)
Virgil sighed and put his phone down. "If you insist, Remus…" He replied quietly, preparing himself for a conversation he knew he wouldn't enjoy.
(I can't really reply to the rp, but I'm glad that you understand, Caustic. Also, I apologize for any future rants, though, to be honest, both of you are allowed to rant if you need to. I'm always here to help!)
(No problem, and thanks!)
(You're welcome! I might have my own issues, but I'm always there to help others!)
group
Remus opened the door, walked in and flopped down onto Virgil's bed, his head in Virgil's lap. "You doing OK there, Virgin?" He asked, seeing Virgil's wrists.
Remus may be annoying as guck and hard to manage but he cared for people. He may not be as comforting as Patton or Deceit but he tried to help in his own way.
Virgil lifted Remus's head and moved it off of his lap. "I'm fine." He tugged his sleeves down, trying to be subtle. "What do you want, Remus?"
group
Remus huffed when Virgil pushed his head away. "Just checking on my favorite emo." He said, sticking out his tounge out.
"We both know that's a bunch of bullsh#t." Virgil crossed his arms, huffing a bit. "What kind of heartfelt, gushy, 'you're lying to yourself again Virgil' conversation are you wanting to have?"
group
Remus smiled. "You know that ain't me, Virgey." He said sitting up. "Have you wrapped those back up?" He pointed at Virgil's wrists.
Virgil looked away, staying silent for several seconds. "What's it to you?" He eventually asked, his voice weak and quiet.
group
Remus sighed before pushing himself up, walking to the bathroom. He came back with more bandages a minute later, sitting in front of Virgil with his legs crossed. He seemed to be waiting for Virgil to roll up his sleeves.