Mercy and Misery [Ezero v Celia]
Mar 26, 2016 14:35:37 GMT -5
Post by Kire on Mar 26, 2016 14:35:37 GMT -5
Sweet berries ready for two
Ghosts are no different than you.
Ghosts are now waiting for you.
Are you...
Last night was the first time Danny and I had ever discussed our chances. It had always been a hidden thought in all of our minds but finally the thoughts had spilled out and we had shared our private fears and foolish hopes.
It had started with Danny admitting her confused feeling about Basil that morning, but nothing had come directly after due to the fight with Iain. After the boy's cannon had fired, we had remained silent for a time. Eventually, though, Danny once more broke the silence between us.
"What am I doing here, Ez? I was never supposed to make it this far."
I turned to look at her, really take her in in that moment. She had admitted a weakness to me, not only just now but time and time before. In the breath where she could have performed mercy on Iain she had faltered, and it had fallen to me instead. The ghost of a sigh floated over my shoulder and I did my best to keep from flinching. The shades were behind me again - still.
"I... Danny, if anyone can make it out of here, it'd be you."
The force behind me wasn't exactly oppressive, but I had known for some time now that it would claim me soon. Each presence behind me was waiting for the moment when they could reach out their hand and take me with them. In some ways, I was waiting for that moment too.
"I was never supposed to make it out. What the hell do I have to live for?" She sounds so earnest now, like she wanted me to know the answer even if she also knew I couldn't have it. "I don't... I don't even know what I'm fighting for anymore. But you? You're the kind of person who deserves survive this."
I shake my head. She should know as well as I do that I won't be allowed to leave here. I have too many debts to pay for.
"I don't know if I do anymore, if I ever did."
I turn to look at the five shadows behind me, their figures oily in my vision so that I could never get a proper look at them. Somehow, they had become more distant from me. I felt like they were plotting, planning for the moment when I would be at my weakest.
"I've let down so many people."
Danny can't see the figures, but I wonder if she can sense their presence. We're both so solemn right now - more so than ever, it seems - and the moments of silence between our words are so complete that breaking them feels like shattering reality.
"We both have."
The tinkling of shattering glass surrounds us as her words crush silence into glittering dust.
"I never - I wasn't ever supposed to have a future. When I volunteered, it was for a faster death. Not some cheap shot at life. It's not... how could it ever be worth it?"
Once more, silence rushes in like an angry tide and for a moment I want to throw myself into it, drown myself in the space between breaths. There's a safety there that I long for. The nearest thing I can think of is being in the arms of my parents - a place where I know that nothing can hurt me. Only I know now that that is false, because I had been plucked from my parent's grasp as easily as a ripe fruit. Now I was here, talking with a girl I had known for a bit over a week about the fact that life here costs more than death.
"That's something one of us is going to find out the hard way."
The haunting memory of faces in the sky draws my eyes up as I once more see the sixteen that had already died. I had watched the deaths of nine of them - one of which I had personally caused. My hands have never been so red, not even after my private training session where I had drained the blood of three dummies again and again. Practice dummies did not feel or live, they did not talk or dream or hope. I hadn't killed them because they were never alive.
I had killed Iain Miristioma, though.
"One of the remaining eight."
There's a ripple of desperation spreading on the surface of the silent tide, growing larger as it traveled until it crashed into the pair of us. We were swept away by the sudden fear that we might not be breathing twenty-four hours from now. Despite the dark figures waiting to steal me away, I do not want to die. Despite my guilt and my sorrow, I can't give up yet. I had been cut and bleeding, I had nearly died three times now, I had faced death in the eyes for the eighth time and acted in her place myself. I could not give up now, because everything I had done up to this point would have gone to waste.
I can't let Iain have died for no reason.
I can't have let myself kill for no reason.
"I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go - "
The word home hangs between us, unspoken. The letters are swallowed by the lapping waves until they drift to the bottom, ignored and forgotten.
"I just want to go."
I take a long look at her, taking in her appearance and the expression on her face. She is strong, brave, and kind, but I know she has an inner self that is weak, afraid, and selfish. I also know she despises it. I know this because I am the same. I can pretend to be someone much better than I am but that can't change the little boy inside me that wants to live and will cry and scream and kick to make it happen. We are children. We are young and we are being forced to grow up so that a group of people might watch us for sport.
We are dogs in a fighting pit, spiked collars digging into our necks as we are driven mad. We lunge at each other because we know if we don't we will be beaten by our masters. We rage until we fall still, one by one, in a pool of our own blood. There is no mercy in the ring, there is no escape, and there is no surrender.
"Me too."
I stretch out my hand to her. As much as I think she might need my support, this is a selfish gesture. Right now, I need to know that I'm not alone. Words can never offer the same as human contact. The world solidifies and dries up as her hand slips into mine. Linked, palm to palm, we draw strength from one another.
"I'll stick with you until the end, okay? Whatever end it may be."
She knows as well as I that this might not be possible.
She also knows, as well as I, that this is what we both need to hear.
"Okay."
My fingers close around hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
"You know I'll be here with you too, 'til the end."
I can feel the tears push from behind my eyes. This sounds too much like a goodbye and I am not ready for it. I don't want this to be the last time I see Danny, I don't want this to be the moment when I let go of her hand and then she dies or I die. I don't want to die.
I don't want to be alone.
"Okay."
That one word signified the end of the conversation, a moment that is supposed to make peace. There is some peace in me now, the knowledge that she does not despise me for what I have done is more of a blessing that I could have asked for - or probably deserved. We have both killed for the sake of others, so we both understand. I can't let go of her yet, though. The sense of finality about this night gives me chills and only Danny's hand holding mine is keeping them at bay.
We fall asleep like that, still linked, not willing to be separated just yet.[Attacks Celia with Throwing Knives]
IgzKZAOdthrowing knife
Severed Finger -- 8.5 damage
[fire 1/4]
1-50
Minor burn +2
credit to rave for the image