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He stands in a foreign land. It says nothing to him.
He's still the most at home in this place, right now, and he knows he's gonna miss it when he's gone, he doesn't want to be gone, childishly. Feels like the end of a good dream.
Chief puts his sword away and clasps his hands, twitches the ring on his finger. The skin feels sticky with sweat and blood both. He can't stop the small smile on his face that's kinda wrong, feverish and unhappy, no, not really, because he is happy and this is the most he's dreamed for in this life, but.
He sits down, almost crumbles, slowly, into the grass. If he goes in the comms, takes a read, he can guess when exactly the players' list got so clean, and who's to blame for that. He doesn't need to. He knows.
He takes the ring off. Throws it up in the air, and it takes him a second to catch, he almost misses, tumbling forward a bit, but it's there. Simple band and a dark stone. It really could be anything, but overall the only important thing that it is is a chain.
He holds it in his fist, and it has no temperature.
"Do you want any help?" A soft voice. He turns his head at it, fingers digging into the grass, the dirt, and it's a little uncomfortable and unfamiliar, so many kinds of un-. Still the same world, though. He wants to stay here forever.
"Hi, Netti." He whispers. She floats down easily, gracefully, like she was born here, to rule. She touches his hand, and there are no stains left on her fingers.
"I can make you one last... indulgence, if you want." Netti smiles. He knows how she can smile, toothy and wrong kind of wide, he knows a lot about this world now. He died here. Loved here. Heck.
"And jj's not gonna say anything about it, huh." He says, raspy. The world is too quiet. "Nah, you know what, Netti, love, I think he'll find me himself." He hugs himself, leans over forward, away from her, but he still gets to catch how her smile jerks, somewhere around pity, or maybe a well, I did what I could. "Could you do one thing though, right? Leave?" His eyes flicker over, checking, really, is she angry? Not that it'll change anything enough.
She laughs. "Alright, alright." She takes the hand away. By her look, it's like she doesn't really believe it. He tells himself he's done, though, not believing, that they can need each other, want each other, that he's enough. He's gonna trust Clown if it's the last thing he does.
It's probably gonna be the last thing he does, here.
For a split second he believes himself fully.
"Bye then, Chief." Netti says, and then she's gone in a buzz of purple, the way she just does.
He sighs and pushes the ring back onto the ring finger, and it slips, the movement coming out so very clumsy, and he's not really there to acknowledge it, he's waiting. Then he tries to brush his hands off on the suit, and that probably only makes it messier.
The Plains are quiet.
Clown had one or two last people to kill here. He's done now, of course he is. Chief closes his eyes, and he can imagine him walking, almost staggering, sword hidden now. The image might be too clear and too real, or is it him that's too deep in denial... alright, he's not. He bites his lip, and twists the ring, and he waits.
He thinks he'll never really know if Clown even wanted to meet him again, if the world just ends.
He's not sure the urge to know won't kill him.
Although, that's Clown for him, he'll just do that to a guy. Hah.
He curls up on himself, at one point, and hopes he'll just fall asleep and dream up something, something good he can sell off as real later on, hopelessly. The stink gets worse. He thinks it's the fish guts, or whatever thing Fantst is, was.
He wonders if Clown will find him to kill him. Briefly. Then he laughs at himself, because Fantst was a way harder target.
Maybe he just doesn't care.
He laughs at himself again. It's pretty damn pitiful, and maybe he's just actually crying, or it's somewhere there in the middle. Won't make more of a mess, and maybe nobody's just gonna see it.
So much for trusting. He grips his hand until the nails hurt the palm and presses his lips to the ring, and breathes.
If Clown doesn't come, doesn't find him, there is no point. It's really what.
Something pushes him, pokes at the side, and he just stills as he lies, shrinks into himself. He already knows what this is. He knows a second before he understands.
He scrambles up then, awkwardly, slipping again, and the hand that's just there grips him almost as much as he clutches at it, with less desperation, he thinks, and maybe it just holds.
"I... I was..." He thinks there's blood smeared on his cheek now.
Really, the only reason the grip feels the same is it digs into his palms just as much, and Clown laughs, high and soft and light, and it sounds nothing like Netti because it's also a little too scared for a King, or maybe panicked, or... he can't find any that fits a monarch, but it's just all right.
"Thanks for... for waiting for me." He says. Chief feels his own face break into a grin, empty, and he's probably crying now, fully, yeah.
Clown smells like blood, tastes like blood, too.
It feels more cruel like this when the curtains fall. Chief wants to bite, draw more blood so it's all there is, so he can leave a mark, a big and probably ugly brand of himself, ugly because it's his and nobody goddamned else's, but he really can't. The way Clown kisses's gentle, for once.
It's definitely more cruel when it's the last thing he can feel, before the world is over.