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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == Love and Tears ==
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' She didn't know whether her counterpart was still out or not. But she didn't care. Selina didn't need an audience -- or want Vorpal to know about what she did. Which was why she was closed up in the bathroom for it. Why not one bit of her outfit is on her body -- all of it piled up in a corner near her.
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| − | ''If it is the only thing that is still mine, at least it is all mine. ''
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| − | The knife dips back again, tracing another one of those sigils across the other arm. Lightly, not much more than a surface wound, but it bleeds well enough and stings well enough for that. Her legs and torso already have them: graceful and arcane. Blood drips from the arm now occupied. It's almost to the point where the Windian can slide that blade in, right into one of the spots she discovered in some of her books -- and in long hours of practice for years. And a few more into others, after. And then she'll be able to channel the pain necessary for her little rite. With each stroke, the hatred fans within her, stoking the blaze hotter. Hatred for others, yes, but most of all, for herself.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' The door to their quarters is pushed open to admit the second dweller in.
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| − | ''Greedy bastards'', the Pale Angel muses as she marches inside and closes the portal behind her. Her broad cloak sweeps across the floor and is almost caught between the door and the frame as it swings shut. Vorpal does not notice, however, but continues on further into the chamber.
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| − | ''We defeat them fair and square and instead of killing them, offer them a nice bit of work and '''still''' they have the guts to haggle for a better pay. '' With an irritated sigh, she slaps a bundle of papers onto the table. She takes a moment to stare down at them, her eyes running over the lines and figures scribbled onto the topmost paper. ''I wonder if Kalevi has been giving them lessons on 'How to deal with the Pale Angel'. ''
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| − | More mini-Kalevis gracing the face of Creation.
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| − | What a disturbing thought.
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| − | Vorpal lets out an annoyed growl and wheels away. Let the problem with the mercenaries wait. Right now she is in need of relieving some other pressures from her being.
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| − | Her hand goes to the knob of the door leading to the bathroom, and she pulls the portal open.
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| − | And halts.
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| − | "Bloody hell..."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' She's caught in the middle of a stroke, knife slicing through the skin of her other forearm. Selina looks up, her eyes shining ''red'', the color of blood. Usually, not something they do.
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| − | ''...I thought I! ''
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| − | "What." She asks, the question more of a statement, really, her voice going thick and husky from a mix of fury and the other emotions she's feeling -- among them embarassment for being caught in the act. The red glow of her eyes casts a baleful light on the other woman. "Yeah, you can use it."
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| − | The tight ball in her chest becomes tighter, hotter. Selina withdraws the knife, gathers up her clothing from the corner and stands to her feet, waiting for Vorpal to get out of the way.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal does make way. Her eyes wander up and down the other Abyssal's nubile body. There is no lust in her gaze, only bafflement... and a bit of revulsion and with it, rising anger.
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| − | ''What is this woman doing to herself? ''
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| − | Folding her arms over her chest, she meets Selina's burning eyes with her own. "Care to explain?"
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| − | The tone of her voice is calm, but something in it reveals that she won't take a no for an answer.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "How is this any business of yours." Selina states flatly, moving past the other deathknight. Not looking at her again. This had never happened to Selina before, and she doesn't know quite how to deal with it. "What I do to myself is not your concern."
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| − | Cold iron is her tone, frosting over the emotion now. Hard and unyielding. "Especially not now."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal does not move out of the way, yet neither does she attempt to impede Selina's path. Her arms still folded, the Pale Angel leans her shoulder against the doorframe and speaks with her back to the Dark Angel: "So the woman who loves you has no business of being concerned what you are doing to yourself." Her voice is cool, her words quiet. "A little selfish of you, don't you think?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina doesn't turn around yet, instead, she calls the shadows to cloak her, as she did before. So that Vorpal can no longer see her body, just it's outline. Then she turns back, and the only color in her are the two baleful eyes of hate. "Never bothered to be concerned about the rest. Why this? Go dream about your storybooks. I am vile reality, Princess."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Don't preach to me about reality. You are mine. I said before that we are going to work out this problem, you and I", Vorpal responds, sensing the buzz of shadows and essence behind her, yet still refusing to turn around. The cloak hides her form, leaving only the billowing cascades of her white hair to tumble down black velvet. "We haven't even yet begun yet you are sabotaging it already. You want to love me? Then take the responsibility. I won't do all the work by myself."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "And that is why you'll never understand." Selina says with a tinge of disgust. "And why I should have never made the effort to begin with. The effort which was wholly mine."
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| − | "I do not want to anymore. So tired of it all." The depression still eats away at her, not festering as much now that it's exposed, but driving her more. "It was a mistake to bring you here."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' ''She's... ''
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| − | It takes a moment before the Pale Angel speaks again.
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| − | "You want me to leave?" she asks, softly. A shift in her hair and a tilt of the back of her head reveals that she has raised her gaze towards the ceiling. "Just when I'm beginning to reach back to you, you are giving up? Isn't that like waving the white flag just when the enemy is about to rout?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "To use your analogy," Selina says, turning away and going to her bed, but not sitting down on it. Wouldn't do to get blood on her bed. Not that her little wounds were bleeding heavily, but... "I picked the wrong battle to begin with. 'Do I want you to go away'." She growls.
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| − | "You didn't want me then. You didn't love me then. I was a dirty little obligation who got in the way of your fantasy. And now, whatever clicked in your head is supposed to make that go away! As if that kind of thing can go away so easily."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Closing her eyes for a few seconds, Vorpal lifts a hand to her face and pinches her bridge of nose, as if suffering from a headache.
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| − | Although she does like to admit it, even to herself, Selina's words hurt. It is a good thing that the Pale Angel is facing away from her dark counterpart at that point, for otherwise Selina might have seen the momentary pain that flickers across the ghost-blooded's features. Let the other Abyssal think her face is a brooding mask.
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| − | "You seduced and slept with a boy I loved. You expect me to make that go away like so - " she snaps her fingers, "Yet you don't want to do the same yourself. I know I have made mistakes, I won't deny that, but the only way you can do it right is to try again. I did not offer it to you then. I am offering it to you now. Will you take it or not?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "And I'll never forgive you for even loving him to begin with. Over me. Not ever. Ashes over that. '''''Ashes'''''. I've done it before." Selina hisses. "I hate your little ideal love, and both of you. I ruined my chances to save him, when I knew him falling into shadow would hurt you worse than that. I could have orcastrated '''that''', too."
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| − | "But you could never see my side. Not ever. Swallow your ashes then. And go back to your imaginary land, if you can't bother to understand me. Not in the slightest. Not that you ever tried."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' And it is ''now'' that Vorpal finally turns around to face her dark twin, her heart cold as the icy waters of Styx, her soul as black as the deepest recesses of Oblivion. "I am offering you peace. A new beginning in love. Will you take it or not? For anyone lesser I would not even give that choice, but for the sake of everything we were, everything we are and everything we might be, I am giving it to you now. I do not follow the commands of anyone if I do not feel like it, but this once I will give you perfect power over my future."
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| − | "Will you take it or not? Yes, or no?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "The decision is yours, not mine. I will not accept or deny something baited like that, with the provision that I somehow forget everything this has done to me." Selina says simply. "You will make the decision to understand me, or not. '''You'''."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "I cannot understand you if you don't even wish to help me with it. So, yes, or no?" She repeats it calmly, every word a bit of frozen North.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I will not accept your terms. Choose different ones." Her voice is thick with her own malevolence, own-self hate. Part of her is screaming to accept it.
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| − | The other part knows she would never be able to live with something like that.
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| − | "If not, then no."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' There is a pause. It is the sort of breathless, terrified pause in a duel before the first clash of swords echoes through the air. A moment of realization that something is terribly, terribly wrong, that the world as one knows it is about to end.
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| − | Then, Vorpal bows, formally, laying one hand over her breast. "''No'' it is", she says, and her words are silken death, as final as the seconds ticking away in a clock with five hands that point to nowhere. "It will take some work, but I will reach out into my soul, take the love I feel at you between my two fingers... and pinch it out. I won't miss it. There is nothing in you to love. Hide away in your little fantasy all you like. Play being the most hated creature in the world. Pretend everyone owes you something and you owe nobody anything. Your prison is of your own making."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Each word, you only prove me more correct. I would not say yes to such a sanctimonious offer. I would not pretend that what happened didn't hurt me, for a false new beginning." She says flatly.
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| − | "Better ashes. At least I retain some amount of self-respect with them. You asked too much."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "I only asked for help", Vorpal shrugs, her heart oddly calm, although she'd rather feel like shedding tears.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "And I'm not hated, anyway." Selina says with a shrug. The ball of self-loathing is wound tight as it ever has been, hotter than the sun. "I'm just ''filthy''. My prison is necessary to keep it from spreading. I'm sorry I dragged you into it."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' And it is now that Vorpal finally turns around to face her dark twin. Strangely enough, there is no anger in her eyes, no eagerness to fight in her stance. Her arms still folded across her chest, she leans against the doorframe again. "You know, seeing you like this, your body all bloody and your words full of hatred... it reminds me of someone we both once knew. She was not an evil woman, but her temper caused her and others nothing but pain. She was a lonely woman and yearned for understanding, but her temper would make her say the wrong words at the wrong time, or ruin what took years to build in a single moment of hot-blooded fury. Over time, it caused her to fortify herself into a castle of pride and bitterness and to act like a spoiled little brat. Irresponsibly, selfishly. Whatever relationships she built, she soon destroyed herself because she did not want to feel again the betrayals she had faced in her youth. She reveled in her loneliness and sought to turn it into her strength."
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| − | Vorpal shrugs.
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| − | "In the end, it gave her only sorrow. You're not like Sati, but there are enough things in common between the two of you for me to see where this is going. I won't rise to the bait." She makes to retreat into the bathroom and reaches for the knob of the open door. "I think I'll let you cool down and ask you again later tonight."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' That, breaks the edge of Selina's anger. Her eyes dim as she looks at Vorpal, and she looks down at the floor. Suddenly it all feels so hopeless. All of it. Not a feeling foreign to her, that.
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| − | But still... "I...I'm like her?" Selina asks slowly, not making a move toward the other deathknight. "I wasn't doing this because I hate you. That was just...frustration. What I said..."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' The sudden change in the tone of Dark Angel's voice makes Vorpal pause. One hand on the doorknob, she closes her eyes and lets out a long and shuddering sigh. Sensing that Selina is about to say more, however, she does not speak. Not yet.
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| − | Another reason is that she simply does not know what to say next.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I'm sorry for that." She says, not looking at the other deathknight. "For what I said, anyway. The rest I do because I loathe what I am."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal turns her head, slowly. "You... loathe?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, a genuine surprise in her tone. "Why? How?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I failed my family. In so many ways." Selina begins, turning away from Vorpal, running a finger along one of the cuts she gave herself. "I failed what I was supposed to be when I was Golden. I couldn't stop him from dirtying me. And then I failed to do anything that they should do -- like the Prince. I could only destroy. And so, I decided that if that was all I could do, I would become peerless in it, so I might turn it to those who deserve it. Even now I cannot dispute that decision: look at me. That is all I am good at -- ever will be good at."
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| − | "But that doesn't mean I can't hate the necessity of it all."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal allows her gaze to trail away as Selina speaks. The Ghost-Blooded's own mien softens, her mouth twisting a little as she bites her own lip.
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| − | ''So... that's how it is, then. ''
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| − | A bit of understanding dawn in her then, some unreasonable and unexpected ways the Dark Angel has behaved before suddenly seem to make much more sense. At least this is what the Pale Angel hopes, for she cannot be sure.
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| − | The small, honest part of her mind admits that, in the end, she really does not understand the Dark Angel all that well.
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| − | Vorpal hesitates for a few moments, then moves across the chamber, to the table with the bowl, rag and a pitcher of water. "Come here", she says, simply.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina turns around, eyes no longer glowing red. The lust for spilling her own blood has drained out of her, as she realizes her actions along with it. She sighs as she moves closer to Vorpal. "Maybe it'll look better after this. Now that I know all of you. Who can say."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Shh", the Pale Angel raises a white finger onto Selina's lips, bidding her to stand still.
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| − | Vorpal herself pours water from the pitcher, dips the rag into the bowl and then crouches down next to the Dark Angel's arm and the crimson streaks drawn there. Her hands work gently, dabbing away the blood, then quickly dipping the rag back into the bowl, squeezing the excess water away and moving on to the next wound.
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| − | "Then you have yet another advantage over me", Vorpal admits after a short while. "I don't understand you at all."
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| − | Dab-dab-dab, dip, squeeze, next wound. The water in the bowl begins to turn red.
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| − | "You don't let me."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' The water stings...but her wounds already don't bleed, and will probably heal quickly enough. She still winces slightly at the sting though. "Why would you want to see all my ugliness?" She asks slowly. "They all want to stay away from me when they do..."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal takes a moment to answer to that. She finishes with the arms and moves on to the torso next.
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| − | She frowns as she works. Funny, that. How many times has she felt lust at those high breasts and at that flat stomach? Where is the feeling now?
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| − | "Sati loved two people in her life", she says. "She loved them both because they would stay by her side even through the worst of her temper tantrums. Sometimes when she raged, she was beautiful like a storm, like a blizzard, like an unstoppable typhoon. Sometimes..." She pauses, then shrugs and goes on working. Dab-dab-dab, dip, squeeze. "...sometimes she was ugly."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina, likewise, does not feel any lust at the moment. Mostly shame...and some amount of curiosity. She lets Vorpal dab her wounds, not interfering. The thought of continuing her little ceremony has by now fled her mind utterly.
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| − | "She was? So was Moranine...in a different way. You were Sati...but what about you now?" She asks. "Though maybe the Prince got to see some of whatever lay beneath the facade."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "I'm not a philosopher", Vorpal admits, her hands working gently down the Dark Angel's torso, "But sometimes you are so intent at looking for the thing you want that you end up walking past it. Perhaps we've been past each others' facades before, but we never just realized it."
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| − | Dab-dab-dab, dip, squeeze.
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| − | "I'm not Sati, but I remember bits of her life. I will not make the same mistakes she did." She frowns and does not look up from her work. "Are you planning to do the same Moranine did?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Maybe I did. I was just so dismayed by your denial of your legend that one night..." She trails off, looking away, thinking of the last question.
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| − | She remembered much of the lives she had lived, it is true. Not all, though. But, what wasn't remembered now, might be in the future. Might.
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| − | "I'm not her. But, from what I remember, what she did, what everyone turned against her for, was..." Selina falters, for a moment, then continues. "If what she did was for a good reason, I might."
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| − | "You already know of my own promise." The words are rueful, but they have a strength all their own.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal's hands pause at their work. She gazes at somewhere around Selina's navel, yet it is obvious she does not really see it.
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| − | A sigh. This woman sometimes makes it very difficult to love her.
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| − | "The one where you will throw the world to the Void if it does not get itself free of the ugliness?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You've seen much of the ugliness I have, I would wager." Selina says quietly. "How can you allow that to continue? Can you sleep every night, knowing it?"
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Throwing the world to the void would mean that I would be destroyed as well", Vorpal responds evenly. Purposefully, methodically, she sets back to work with Selina's wounds. "Are you prepared to do it? Do I deserve that? You have seen what kind of a man Aghar is. Does he deserve to be thrown to Oblivion as well? Alex? Iselsis? Valencia?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina knows that. Oh, how she knows. It would be the end of everything she loves, and perhaps shortly herself. "No. That is why it is the last resort."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Well, to answer your question", Vorpal shrugs. "To destroy the world would mean admitting defeat to certain beings who have been wanting that all along. I'm not the type to admit defeat easily."
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| − | "The irony", she sighs again, wearily, and moves on to work with Selina's legs, "is that we are Abyssal Exalted. Our creation had a purpose. So perhaps we are only fighting against the inevitable."
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| − | And what about the third world, the one caught between Creation and Oblivion? Underworld is full of people who do not deserve destruction, either, but who cares about them? What about the silent masses repeating their daily rituals again and again in the gloom of death, continuing their monotonous existence from one century to another because that is all they have left?
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| − | "So tell me", Vorpal asks, deciding to change the subject, "Are doom and gloom and chocolate the only things you ever talk about?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You are a very odd Abyssal. And half-ghost to boot." Selina says without any faltering. And shakes her head slightly. "It is rather difficult to find another subject in these times. And I do ''not'' talk about chocolate alot."
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| − | "Maybe I should talk about sorcery? Or the history of our amusing countries?" Selina offers. "Or the Prince. Or Moon. Or Opal. Or kittens and puppies and star-chosen?"
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal responds to that with a little ''pfft''. "I just don't make a habit of taking for granted what others tell me. I'm too stubborn and set into my own ways."
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| − | She brightens soon afterwards, however, and lets out a short chuckle. "Which are you? A cat or dog person?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "A cat person." Selina replies smoothly, then remembers Moon. He is a dog totem, isn't he? Or wolf, or something. Some kind of wolf-dog. "Though I guess dogs like me too."
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| − | "But I have cats back in Nexus."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Ooh."
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| − | Vorpal finishes with one leg. She tosses the rag into the bowl and scuttles around the Dark Angel's wings in order to reach the other leg. "Striped or not?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Some are striped. Or tortoiseshell, or calico. Some are plain. I have a few." She looks around back at Vorpal for a moment, moving her wings up so they don't get in the way. Curious. "Why? You like cats too? Might have kittens by now. Again."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal lets out a dark, ominous chuckle, yet does not respond. "Are you planning to keep them?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Maybe."
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| − | ''Oh dear. ''
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| − | "You know, you need a place to keep them that isn't...Red Ice." She looks to the ceiling and thinks. "I should have suspected you want cats. It kind of figures..."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal sniffs. "You are underestimating me. My home isn't in Red Ice. I have my own Manse. That is where I was planning to take your child to safety, you know."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You have another home?" Selina asks with some surprise. She had never known of this, not one bit of it. "I always thought the stone was from a manse the Lover gave you, one of Red Ice's manses."
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| − | "And you don't even know where I live." She adds with some curiousness.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "I was briefed about you before I was sent to meet you in the first place", Vorpal shrugs. "A house outside Nexus, yes?"
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| − | "My Manse is a personal place. I don't stay there too often because that would only attract attention to the site, but I sometimes go there when I want peace and quiet." The Ghost-Blooded smiles, softly. "You would love the back yard."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "A house outside Nexus, but there's alot of those..." Selina trails off, looking at Vorpal suspiciously. Then she shrugs. "Where is this place, anyway? I always imagined you stayed at Red Ice all the time, or wandered around..."
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| − | "Though...Red Ice is pretty bad." Selina puts a finger to her mouth, remembering. There isn't much to remember. She hadn't stayed there long. And she hasn't been back for a long, long time.
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| − | "I certainly wouldn't want to live there. I wonder if most of her deathknights stick around."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "That depends on the Deathknight", Vorpal responds, sourly, and for a moment her rag presses one of Selina's wounds more firmly than necessary. The sensation does not last long, however, and soon she moves on to the next wound as gently as before. "Mournful Aria is completely in the Lover's thrall and I don't think she leaves the place too often. Prince of Shadows wanders around much on his own errands. He has a permament residence in Stygia, you know."
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| − | But then her mien brightens again as she turns the topic: "My Manse... where it lies is a secret. I might take you there one day, if you behave yourself."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Which means never." Selina says dryly. "I never was good at behaving myself..." She finishes that with a wry tone. "I am very naughty like that."
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| − | "But sometimes, you know, I wonder..."
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| − | "Is the Lover lonely, being there?"
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' What she leaves unsaid is that she does not visit the Manse as often as she would like. When the Pale Angel is not wandering the North, the Lover often likes to keep her in Red Ice, for the convenience of having Deathknights ready at hand...
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| − | ...and for the Deathlord's own personal amusement, no doubt.
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| − | "Lonely?" Vorpal scoffs and, finishing with the final wound, tosses the rag into the bowl. "How am I supposed to know? Does the feeling even apply to someone like her?"
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| − | The Pale Angel turns to place the bowl and its now-red contents back onto the table and then glances back at the Dark Angel. "What makes you wonder that?"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Well." She begins, then stops, trying to find a way to put it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "We get lonely, right?" Selina queries, remembering how she felt in her first few months as a deathknight. "But at least we aren't...like her. But maybe she still remembers something else. Nothing is more hollow than being lusted after, and receiving no love. When that is all you have. I've been there a few times. I imagine you have too."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But at least we have the possibility of something else."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal stares stramgely at her dark counterpart for a long moment. When she finally speaks, her tone of voice is oddly hesistant: "I never expected to hear something like that from you. Do you often think about such things?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "More often than I'd care to admit." She says ruefully. "I...did something of that to you, too. I wish I hadn't. Though it wasn't just that, I was just confused, and after the life I lived, I guess lust was the most familiar reaction..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But still, I feel sorry for her. I wonder what happened to her before, to make her embrace what she became. I know my drive was not pleasant, nor yours, I imagine."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' ''...huh. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | A quick and merciless reply threatens to rise onto Vorpal's tongue once again, but she pushes it back and decides to give the matter actual thought. She bends down to pull her travelling bag out from under the bed and begins to rummage through it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "So, do you think she could redeem herself, with the right motivation?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I didn't say that." Selina clarifies, then shrugs. "Only that I wonder if she feels lonely. It's sad."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But...what can one do? Besides, I don't really feel like redeeming myself to the point some people consider. I doubt she would either. Would you?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' In the midst of searching for something from her bag, Vorpal pauses. "I... don't feel I need to redeem myself for anything. If I want to change into some direction, then I will. I don't feel any particular obligation to do so."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She resumes her searching and after a few more seconds, locates what she was looking for. Straightening herself back up, she pulls forth a roll of bandages. "Tell me. How far do you think other people wish you to change?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Good. We are of similar mind then." Selina says with some assurance, cracking a little smile. "My sister wants me to become a Solar again. If such a thing is possible. Or to be absolved of my darkness, or some such."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Oh, and the eating people." She ticks off one finger absently. "Apparently people don't like that one."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Your sister makes many unreasonable demands", Vorpal shrugs. She rolls out a length of the bandage and takes a hold of Selina's hand, indicating that the Dark Angel should lift it a little. Of course, an Exalt does not really need bandages to hold her wounds, but the Pale Angel does not seem to care about this. "I've had the impression that she argues for the argument's sake, not to drive a point home."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina lifts her hand a bit. "Kind of like me, sometimes, maybe. But then, there it is."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "At least no one has asked you to redeem yourself, yet. Personally, I find it a bit insulting that people do. I chose my course, and it's mine to damn myself or save myself with. Certainly, doing that on the principle of being righteous or whatever those Solars would say is...bullshit."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal cannot resist it this time. She smiles a little to herself, pretending to be focusing on wrapping Selina's arm into the bandage. "If you want to purge the world of its ugliness, you have to start with yourself first", she says, innocently.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Yes, now see, no one ever says that." The Windian replies with some amount of crossness. "But Oblivion is very good at...erasing things. Which is why I did this."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "And some other angsty reasons people would no doubt laugh at." She adds hastily.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Oh?" Vorpal asks, absently. She finishes wrapping up the first hand and rips the end free of her roll with her teeth. "What sort of reasons?" she asks while fiddling with the final knots.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I wanted to be dark, to be hated, to be filthy, in truth. At least, if this would make me it." Selina says without much emotion, remembering that day. The day she stepped out of the cage and realized what she had done.
| |
| − | | |
| − | She had done exactly what she aimed to.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I wanted to be damned, so what I would have to do would be proper."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Huh. From gold to black", Vorpal muses aloud as she gestures for Selina to present her other hand. The Ghost-Blooded rolls out a new length of the bandage and sets to work again. "It must have been a shock. I suppose I had it easier. I was born as a part of the black world, so my soul was acclimated to it already. I like to think that is the reason why I became such an odd Abyssal Exalt, like you say." She finishes the last words with a little twist of her white lips. "I'm one of the damned, but my heart says 'so what'?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "'So what'?" Selina asks quizzically. "You mean it's become old hat for you, or something?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Not that simple", Vorpal shakes her head. "It's difficult to explain, but I suppose a part of it is about having lived my life as an unnatural thing right from the birth. I never had a choice about it." She pauses to give Selina a very severe, meaningul look. "I never had a choice. Therefore, I had no regrets about making that choice, no self-sacrificial loathing about willingly tarnishing myself with this stain. I had no regrets to blind me to the fact that I can be damned only as far as I allow myself to be. I leapt into the black torrent and allowed myself to be carried away on its tides because I'm planning to swim."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina listens to that, then thinks silently for a bit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''So, I blinded myself? ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "You resent me for...squandering mine?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "No." Vorpal replies. "You told me about your philosophy. I told you about mine."
| |
| − | | |
| − | The Ghost-Blooded finishes with the other hand and now crouches down to focus her attentions to Selina's long legs.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You missed one thing, though." Selina clarifies with a wry smile. "I was never blinded. I may have been ignorant of some of what was entailed until after the fact, but I knew what I was making myself."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It almost consumed me, after I did it. I barely escaped from nothingness that day."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Is that so?" Vorpal asks idly, not rising to the bait. Her hands are wrapping the bandages perilously close to the place between Selina's silky thighs, but for once she seems to pay no mind. "Well, I have seen those cages. I imagine it was not pleasant."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "It wasn't." Selina replies with a slight nod, then chuckles. "The Prince never says anything about becoming like us, does he? I should hope not. Two is enough."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal's mouth tightens at that, a strange, hollow feeling rising to her chest. "He does. He would go to meet the Lover if that is what he has to do. ''Stupid'' boy..." Her voice trails away into a snarl and she finishes a knot with a yank.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "How long were you a Solar, in any case?" she asks after a moment, her voice calmer once again. "I thought you were supposed to be a Dragon-Blooded. Exaltations are not supposed to pile up."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "He shouldn't." She says, ending with a squeak as Vorpal pulls the knot tight. "But she's going to do nasty things to us if we stop him. Perhaps everyone else should go too. Maybe she won't be so bold in front of that many Chosen."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "And I, am a freak." She replies to the latter question matter-of-factly. "Five years or so a Solar, in any case...I probably should have stuck with it. Too late now though!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Never say that", Vorpal replies just as matter-of-factly and moves on to the next leg. "Say that you are an unlikely thing. Say that you are a creature born from a loophole in the rules of nature. But never say you are a freak. You are downplaying yourself if you do."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Chibi-Vorpy: ''' ((Sides, gaining more power because of your freakishness doesn't really suit the term. ))
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "'Unique individual' then?" Selina queries with a curious tone, then shrugs. "I really get on your nerves with all my mannerisms and topics, don't I?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Yes, you do", Vorpal responds smoothly and without hesitation. "The mood never really gets romantic with you. That is the difference between you and Alex. Do something cute every once in a while, will you?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | The Pale Angel finishes with the legs and circles around to stand in front of the Dark Angel, studying the wounds the woman has in her torso. "Alex told me that the Sun spoke to him when he was Chosen. Did He speak to you?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "That's kind of a problem, though." Selina begins, looking down at her body. Now she has bandages all over her...not something she is too used to.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Back when I was little, I think I got infections... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Not really anymore though. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I'm not young and cute and...storybook ish. Or something. He seems storybook ish." Selina muses. "Sol didn't tell me anything. I just got this...feeling. Of glory, and limitless potential. Or something like that."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Oh, come on, now." Vorpal frowns. "There are also storybooks about people filled with self-loathing, who have lost everything they have in their life, who are feared and despised by everyone yet who, through some unlikely miracle, just oh-so-conveniently happen to possess godly powers that set them above everyone else. I used to fancy myself as one of those, you know."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Finally making up her mind about how to proceed with these final bandages, Vorpal reaches out behind Selina's back and begins to encircle her torso with bandages from there. "Besides, you don't need to be storybookish to do cute things. The way you pouted about that chocolate is a proof enough of that."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You did? I suppose I would look rather like one of those characters from one of those trashy novels. The ones who have every single power and always win over the people who oppressed them, and make everyone else feel foolish." Selina says with a chuckle. "Except I don't, really."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "You found that cute, huh?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Uh-huh. One of your redeeming features."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Did you find this cute?" Selina asks, forming some shadow onto her head in the shape of big cat ears.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal chortles abruptly at that. The bandage almost slips from her shaking hands, thus threatening to ruin her work so far. It takes some effort for her to regain her composure. "Do that more often. You're learning."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' She then creates a shadowy tail, coming from exactly the place at the back of her where a normal feline-mutant's tail would be sprouting from. She's seen a few in her time, afterall.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Ah ha. And this." She replies, the tail curling back and forth and waving. "I should tell Alex how to make a golden one. Then you can have two."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal shakes her head so that her white hair tumbles about her shoulders. Her eyes crunch up into tiny red slits as she laughs. "You do that. Then I'll tie you two together and carry you from your tails. Now hold still --"
| |
| − | | |
| − | With a sudden frown and a flurry of motion, the Pale Angle ties the final knot. She steps back for a second to inspect her work, then nods. "That should hold", she smiles.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You shouldn't carry cats from their tails!" She exclaims, then something occurs to her. "I wonder how all this is going to go with my normal clothing..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Ssh." Vorpal raises a finger. "Don't worry about that for now. They will be healed by tomorrow."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Laying a hand onto Selina's shoulder, the Pale Angel begins to steer the other woman towards the bed. "Let's sit down."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina sits down on the bed. "Ok." She is somewhat confused by this, though the cat ears and tail don't go away. Instead the ears swivel toward Vorpal, the tail lashing back and forth a bit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Do you have something to say? ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' It is obvious that Vorpal has something to say, but she does not voice it aloud right away. Instead, she sits down beside the Dark Angel and encircles the other Abyssal's shoulders with her arms. Sighing, she pulls Selina against herself and bends her head against the Winlandian's own. The black feathers brush against the Ghost-Blooded's back.
| |
| − | | |
| − | She holds still for a moment, silent and strong and safe, allowing the warmth of her own pale body seep over to the other Abyssal.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Her sister had felt awkward and surprised when she hugged her, days ago. Now Selina feels the same, somewhat. She blinks with a bit of confusion, wondering what that is for.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Though, she doesn't for long. Soon she also tries to hug the other Abyssal back.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''It's a good thing this isn't some kind of black sin. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | At least, not one of the common ones.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal feel the tension in Selina's spine at first. She realizes that the Dark Angel is not accustomed to this sort of treatment. This does not surprise her. Truth be told, it's the same with the Pale Angel, really. How many times had she herself sat stiff and straight like a plank at the touch of Alexander Holysword?
| |
| − | | |
| − | Well. It has to be said that Alex always hugged her in public. Vorpal, at least, has the prudence not to try that with Selina.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''I suppose we are all just so accustomed to inflicting pain on others that we have forgotten there are other, sweeter ways to touch. Little joys of being there for another person, to have someone else to share the burden at the end of the day. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | But then Selina begins to respond to the embrace, and Vorpal smiles quietly. It is a strange feeling, to be so close to the other Abyssal, yet not attempt to tear the clothes off the other's body, to not succumb to the throes of red-hot passion, to not even feel the temptation to do so.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Vorpal wouldn't mind doing this more often.
| |
| − | | |
| − | A short eternity passes.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It's not like I expect you to listen to me", the Pale Angel finally murmurs against Selina's shoulder, her voice almost melancholy. "But I don't want to see anything like that again."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You don't, huh?" Selina says quietly, reflecting on the fact that Vorpal didn't even see all of it. Not the other knives, or what she'd do after they were all in.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Why does it affect you that badly?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal closes her eyes. It is a response to the sinking feeling that suddenly appears in the pit of her stomach.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Isn't it obvious?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "You never do it?" Selina asks curiously. "You never want to punish yourself?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Punish myself?" Vorpal asks, drawing back from Selina so that she can better see the other woman's face. "Why should I do that? To atone for my sins?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' So, she didn't really understand that part of her. Maybe that is good, to a point. Maybe it was best if she didn't fully comprehend that part of Selina. But still, she should give Vorpal some crumb of understanding.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Because, you hate yourself. Because you have to pay for the thing you let yourself become."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "Is that it?" Vorpal lowers her head a little, to give her gaze more intensity as she looks carefully into Selina's eyes. "Do you hate yourself? What you have willingly become?" She frowns, seeking words for a moment. "You always seem so... satisfied with yourself."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I am." She says, looking back with the same intensity. "It makes me better than all the ones who think they can never become monsters. Who believe they are just and triumphant over the dark places of their minds. They will never accept that power breeds that -- I have long accepted it. There will never be self-hate to temper their pride, stop it from becoming hubris."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "They will fall as they did before. As we did before. And this time, I will be waiting as their executioner."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "And that makes me a horrible thing. An evil. But a necessary one."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "A martyr." Vorpal says the word softly, thoughtfully, and pulls Selina to herself once more. She sways back and forth, cradling the Dark Angel in her lap like a child. "Is that want you want to be? A martyr? The Dark Angel of Ending? Bringer of salvation through destruction?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Life isn't about what you want to be." Selina says with a shrug, kind of uneasy for being cradled like that. But the other deathknight is older, right? "It's about what you have to be. You squeeze what you want to do or have out of the cracks."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal inhales. Her rising chest presses tightly against Selina for a moment before she lets the breath out in a long and slow sigh. "That is a sad fate you have chosen for yourself", she says quietly and gently disentangles Selina from her arms.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I hope you won't see it to its end."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Maybe I will, maybe I won't." Selina says with a shrug. "I am not infalliable." Then she looks at Vorpal suspiciously. "Of course, you would stand with the others, not me, right? Don't worry, I won't take offense to that. I am used to that sort of thing by now."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal does not take offense at that, either. "Don't assume anything", she replies and rises to her feet. This time, her voice is stronger and more confident, more like the manner by which she usually speaks. "I just don't want to see you facing that sort of fate because I care about you. That's all. Chase whatever goal you feel is right for you."
| |
| − | | |
| − | The Pale Angel accompanies the last words with a little whisk of her hand and heads across the room.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Not a word she's used to hearing. Still, it feels somewhat good to hear. "We'll see." She replies in an almost fond tone, looking at the Pale Angel. "You be careful too. There are other nasty fates besides mine."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal chuckles sourly at that. One hand on the knob of the bathroom's door, she throws a twinkling glance over her shoulder. "Trust me, I ''know'' that. Do you think Oblivion is bad? Try getting tossed between two angels, one white and another black. Now, excuse me. Nature calls."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She opens the door and slips inside, pulling the portal shut after her. There is a very definite ''click. ''
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Inside and safely beyond anyone's sight, Vorpal no longer bothers to hold it back. It snaps within her like a whipcord. She whirls to the side, abruptly, and hurls a punch at a wall as hard as she can.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Splinters of stone clatter to the floor. Tiny droplets of blood begin to flow from between the Pale Angel's white fingers.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "The ''idiot''..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | ----
| |
| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |
