lucetilogs | taste the blood as feathers fly

Who: Mithos, Sheena, Freyjadour, Sayo, Raine
What: Confessions of a quadmillennial drama queen
When: Saturday the 16th, morning
Where: Somewhere in the village
Summary: Martel is gone and Mithos takes it about as well as usual. Misplaced rage very nearly solves everything (except not really), until someone has to show up and ruin it all. Then other stuff happens.
Rating: T for tantrum

[Cycles, patterns, unrelenting repetition - it becomes a way of life after so many stretched-out years, and especially in somewhere like Luceti, somewhere shaped and re-shaped by comings and goings yet somehow always the same. Over and over again. Mithos climbs the stairs, like he does every morning, to pay pilgrimmage to Martel's room and make sure that even if she remains in the custody of the Malnosso, she at least hasn't returned 'home'. Insanity - doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, like maybe this time his sister would stay by his side and he could be where he belongs. When he pushes the door open, he expects to see the same clothes sitting neatly on the chair, folded by patient hands months ago, waiting to be put away by their owner. The panpipes should be on the bedside table, perched precisely where he sets them down every day when he's done playing. The sheets and blankets should be rumpled just so, just as they were the day she was taken, her scent no longer lingering between the threads, neutralized by his own.

He takes a breath and his eyes sweep the space. The bed is right. The panpipes are right. The clothes are gone.

Gone. One word, one sharp syllable lodged into his chest, his ribcage constricting around it and pushing the tips of bone into the raw yielding tissue of his heart - he swears he can feel it puncture. The only sounds he can hear are the ones in his head, gutted memories, hollow voices, the same bad dream returning with a vengeance. His feet carry him to the wardrobe. Pull a drawer open. Empty. He backs away as though singed, sinking to the bed. He crumbles as soon as his body touches the blankets that don't smell of his sister anymore. His legs fold underneath him; his spine curls him into a ball; his fingers shape trembling fists. Tears, at first startled by the suddenness of loss, finally come spilling out.

Time keeps going around him. His swollen tearducts run dry and his body is still, but it's isn't alright. It isn't enough. Crimes should be met with punishment, and it is a crime of the highest order that his sister should be denied reprieve from her imminent death in a world that wanted neither of them. It is a crime of an even higher order that she should be pried from him, that he should be separated from her. But there is nobody on the other end of this crime. Nobody to blame. Nobody to wrest revenge from. Nothing he can do about it.

He refuses to accept that answer. He pushes himself up from the blankets. He stands, and he walks back down the stairs, and he takes up a sword. Out the door. Up the road. No destination in mind - let fate choose his target, and let it choose wisely.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Leave it alone, it's fine.

[None of her injuries are particularly terrible on their own; even together, she's stood through worse. It's blood loss getting to her.]

You can't just let him go with her like that...

It's not fine. You've lost a lot of blood, so you'll need to rest as soon as possible.

[She's not happy about the arrangement either. In this situation however, there was very little she could do about it.]

Frey is going with them.

Yeah, 'cause he could do so much about Mithos by himself.

[Her intention to get up again doesn't even make it from thought to action. She just isn't moving. It's a safe bet she doesn't notice her head leaning against the nearest leanable thing either.]

I'll trust him to ask for help when he needs it.

[But she may stop giving conversation soon, when her attention focuses to more important healing spells, making sure that all of Sheena's open wounds are sealed.]

[Someday, one mage or another will figure out how to fix bloodloss along with healing and they will be the most famous mage to have lived.

Until then.

Sheena relaxes as the pain fades under the influence of familiar spells. Getting up for a short hop to the clinic (there are no illusions about going home right now) actually starts to seem thinkable.]

[After she finishes casting, she gives Sheena another careful look over. Not as extensive as one might receive in a clinic environment, of course, but one that's just enough to make sure that Sheena can make it over there without too much difficulty.]

We'll start moving in a few moments, so your strength can get back up. The walk won't be far.

Yeah, I know it's close. [I know where I am, which is nice. The last time this happened with Mithos she couldn't keep her head on straight afterward.]

...I didn't start this fight.

I know.

[There are many reasons why she knows. It wouldn't be the first time Mithos attacked in a blind rage... and there was nothing that frustrated her more than him being unchecked in this village.

But there were very little things in her power that she could do about that. For now, Sheena's injuries had to be her priority.] ... Let me know when you feel ready to move.

[Why is she always the target of his stupid blind rages anyway? What'd she ever do to him, if you don't count the 'we've gotta kill you to keep the world safe from you' stuff?

Better her than someone innocent who doesn't know a thing about him. Rational thoughts like that kinda bled out of her already.]

Let's just go before I really pass out.

All right. Just hang on, then.

[She'll move to support her as best as she can for the walk.]

[The healing was enough to make her feel a little better, clearing her head to the point where the world isn't in a full-out spin every time she turns it. There's a lot of tilt and blur anyway. The walk to the clinic won't be slow because she's not moving very fast, but because she's not moving very straight.

At least it's close by and things aren't nearly so dizzying once they're through the door and into a smaller space.]

Edited 2012-08-13 14:33 (UTC)

Lets get you to a bed. [The closest closed off area isn't too far away once they're inside, and it is hardly as if the clinic is constantly full. So she continues to guide Sheena toward it.]

Do I get to just sleep?

[That sounds like the current best plan in the world.]

Yes, you can sleep. Though I'd think it would be better if you got cleaned up a little before you did...

Guess I'll try.

[Pale, bloody, and dirty, Sheena sits as carefully as she can at the edge of the bed, cradling her injured arm with the good one. Things take a bit of a dramatic tilt; outwardly she wobbles a little and presses her lips together until the world fixes itself again.]

[As soon as Sheena is sitting - and doesn't look like she's going to fall over, Raine moves to get a clean washcloth and basin.] I'll be as quick as I can, with this. Do you need anything to drink?

Maybe. Water? [There was a long breath between those.] A new shirt. [As she tugs lightly at her torn and bloody sleeve.]

Understood. [At least the clinic is smart enough to stock extra clothes around for emergencies. It's not as if they aren't free.] I'll just be a minute then.

Okay.

[It doesn't matter how long the minute is. Sheena will go on forcing herself not to lose balance and pitch forward onto the floor until Raine comes back.]

[Raine knows how to get around the clinic in short order anyway, and it's hardly busy, so she returns with a fresh shirt and bottle of water with a straw - mostly remembering another time how Sheena had difficulty with drinking.] ... Here.

[It isn't nearly so bad this time; she walked here partially under her own power, for one thing. A few sips of water in between Raine's efforts do make her feel a little better.]

[Eventually, the efforts should pay off enough so that Sheena is able to put on the clean shirt without difficulty, and finally be able to lay herself down. Though not without another healing spell to help.]

[Absolutely. Lying down, as soon as she can possibly manage. If not for Raine the shirt would probably be on backwards and she wouldn't care.]

Just tell me I'm not gonna spend the night here.

We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now, you need to rest.

...That's a yes, isn't it.

[One mildly-hazy brown eye is giving her a Look.]

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wise_maiden - 2012-08-14 20:26 (UTC) - Expand

corrinesbell - 2012-08-14 22:41 (UTC) - Expand

wise_maiden - 2012-08-14 23:02 (UTC) - Expand