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Everyone has their own way of coping after getting back from the latest Life game iteration. Etho runs — the people around him surely try and stop it, but Etho is more slippery than that. Everyone copes differently, and Etho needs to be alone; he needs to put the sun behind him and get away. It doesn't matter where to, just that it's far.
In the silence, he works on getting his head put back on straight, sealing up the cracks of an ever-broken heart — like it's anyone's fault but his own — and readjusts to the speed of life that he prefers. Etho is a hermit at heart, made to be alone — he's not a lover, not a fighter. That's why he fucks it up so bad, every single time, and why he needs to run.
He spars with a copper golem this time, over and over and over. Whether it knocks him down or he beats it, he scrapes himself out of the dirt breathing hard and says, "Again."
The construct was only made of hasty scraps, and doesn't last too long against the onslaught, finally too damaged to get up once more. Etho kneels in the grass, head bowed, trying to pretend it is adrenaline making him shiver and not something deeper than that. His knuckles are rubbed raw, split in a few places, and he holds his sword and shield so tightly that he doesn't know if he could let them go, even if he tried.
"Need a proper opponent?"
Etho jumps, whipping his head around to find Gem watching him from a dozen yards away. Her eyes are red like she's been crying, but her tears are wiped away. Etho doesn't know how she copes — he doesn't ask anyone that — but seeing her here is surprising.
He should ask how did you find me? What he says is, "Yes."
Gem comes in much stronger than Etho expects; that's his weakness, sometimes, with estimating her. She floors them almost immediately, but Etho only climbs back to his feet and says, "Again." Gem obliges.
He abandons his shield after the third tilt. They meet each other blow for blow, every unbalancing kick, every deflected hook. The two of them become nothing but swords, a whirling dervish of clashing metal. It's impossible to know where Etho ends and Gem begins, such a creature of oneness they become when they subsume to the grief and blood they have been left in.
"Again," like begging.
"Again?"
"Again," they agree in chorus.
Finally, when the reverie ends, Etho hits the ground hard, just barely catching themself on all fours. They kick a leg out, hooking around Gem's ankle and yanking hard. She skids into half a split before crumbling herself, collapsing at Etho's side.
Etho painfully pushes over onto their side, curling into a fetal position, their shoulder catching up against Gem. The taste of salt and sweat is on his lips and his stomach cramps with nausea. He can hear Gem breathing as hard as he is, then breaking into a coughing fit that she takes a few moments to recover from.
Etho closes his eyes and works on his breathing until the nausea goes — at some point Gem puts a steadying hand on his arm and Etho chooses not to shrug it away.
"Is this what you do?" Etho's voice is as dry as the desert, which is maybe what he gets for prying.
"Not always." Gem admits. "You."
"Kinda." He swallows, trying to re-wet his mouth. "It was different, at first, when we …"
"Didn't know it was going to happen again?" Gem finishes.
Etho stares off at the horizon, feeling Gem's heart beating in time with his. "Yeah."
They rearrange without speaking, becoming a single puddle of sweaty warmth beneath the midday sun.
"Was it…" Gem starts hesitantly. "Was it different, at the start? When you had no idea?"
"Yeah." Third Life feels like it was a million years ago. "It just felt like a game. We weren't afraid. Even afterwards, it was easier to compartmentalize." Etho thinks a lot of them took Last Life better … he was not one of them. "I try not to think about it after its over. That's why I do …" he gestures vaguely into the air.
"To get it all out." Gem's not quite right, it's more like push it all down and keep it inside until he dies. But Etho won't correct her and just nods. "You shouldn't … you shouldn't blame yourself for what happens there."
Etho could just bark out a laugh at that, but this isn't funny. "I could say the same thing to you." He's glad he has his mask on. Gem's seen him without it — Etho doesn't usually mind when she does — but right now, Etho needs to be hidden. The closer Gem examines him, the closer he gets to shoving away and diving back into the trees. He's not sure Gem will want to let him, and while it's a toss-up if she'd beat him, she clearly tracked him here, which means she could bring the others.
Though Etho isn't looking at Gem, he can imagine the way she looks off into the distance, frowning, the way her eyes crinkle unhappily with the expression. "Touche, I guess."
"All we can is put it behind us and move on, I figure."
"I guess." The alternative is drowning in the blood, after all. The next thing Gem says is unexpected. "Maybe next time — you and me. We should team."
They're sitting up, pushing away from Gem before they even realize it. "No." Etho says, bracing himself on his arms, staring at Gem. She's obviously bewildered by the harshness of his reaction. "That's — that's not a good idea."
"Etho." Gem says carefully, like he's a fucking wild animal. His tail is lashing against the ground. Gem's ears twitch. "It's not like you're bad luck."
"Probably worse than that." Etho says before stopping himself. "You should — you're probably next up to win, Gem, it's been like that for awhile. I'm not the guy who ties himself to winners."
"And winning is such a reward, outside of the immediate pride?" Gem retorts. "Grian and Pearl, they're — it's not about winning all the time."
"You can be miserable the whole time and then lose, sounds like a shit deal to me." Etho shifts, turning away and hunching his shoulders. He should've gone the second Gem appeared. She wouldn't have chased him if he bolted, but he lost that chance.
"You don't make me miserable, Etho." Gem states. "Or anyone."
"Have you double-checked?" Shut up, Etho! Etho scrambles to his feet, head swimming with the speed of it. He can hear the sound of Gem getting up behind him, but not getting closer. "We just shouldn't, Gem. We shouldn't."
"Etho …" In his peripheral vision, Etho sees Gem starts to slowly reach out, and Etho hisses, jumping back from it. Gem drops her hand immediately, going still. "Etho, please."
Etho's lucky when Gem doesn't chase him into the treeline. He knows his luck won't last.