βTheyβre all bloodthirsty idiots.β The thought was clear as day. Sienaβs eyes found the bookmark sheβd laid in place after her training session with the other sin Ground Zero. It felt like eons ago that they had been showcasing their abilities together, piecing together ideas and theories that might work in a hypothetical combat situation. Howβ¦quaint and bright, the memory seemed. Sheβd taken the names a few times over since thenβto see how long she could stretch it, to see how quickly she could have it run through her fingers if necessary. It had been harder to see the effects without an actual dragon to put it to use on, but it should have worked.
Carefully, the mental wall was constructed, a sensation ofβ¦nothing washing over her as the name printed itself on her neck. Without any consequences on her emotional state, names didnβt last nearly as long, but in a situation where she only wanted the ability for a brief time, the brunette was certain that it would be a better decision. All she had to do then, was--
SLAM!
The gasp that should have torn from Sienaβs lips was drowned, literally, in a torrent of water that struck her like a hose. Her body curled instinctively at the sudden cold that enveloped her, defensively gripping her phone, clutching it tight to her body as she felt her balance give way, sweeping her into the ground, a current knocking her against a tunnel wall enough to jar another breathβno! Not breath, water. Water that burned the incisions her teeth had made against her lip, tasted like salt and filth, water that was going to fill her lungs.
Siena coughed once, the only result being the intake of more water in the process of recovery.
It occurred to her that she should have felt fear, but the gap remained as wide as ever. Fear, guilt, remorseβtoo hard to feel. The water receded, and Siena coughed. A wet, rattling sound as the sea escaped her with each cough until it didnβt feel as though each breath was coming as air bubbles through a thin pipe. Her body trembled in the aftermath, from the chill, but not from fear, but Siena didnβt pay it heed. The rush hadnβt been severe, those in the tunnels with her were probably fine. She could faintly make out voices through the cacophony in her head, but tuned them out in favor of the immediate thoughts. Cold and rational. Ruthlessly efficient in their presentation.
The others. Theyβd been outside. In the tunnels, even with breakneck reactions from the others, the torrent had been powerful enough to knock her off her feet, sweep a girl down the tunnels a short distance. Outside, where there had been no defenseβ¦
Callan.
βGod fβshit!β Frustration overwhelmed the remorse. Failed again. Her failure. Was she dead? Hurt? Worse? Instinctively, Siena looked down at her phone, wiped the droplets off the screen. Someone to track? No, she couldnβt. Not with her current name. Goddamn it! Another fire spike. The Arbiter grit her teeth, scolded herself for the rush of emotion, and felt the schism widen further.
βTransmit. You guys okay in there? We've got three dead-- staff members. Everybody else out here is alive, but weβve got injuries. Donβt know how bad yet. End transmission.β
Alive.
For the second time in one encounter, Siena felt relief, but it wasnβt enough. She released a breath, shuddered against another chill, and focused on the task at hand. The girl ran another spear through her heart, stifled the surge of emotions that she knew wanted to break free, and utilized every remaining ounce of Victorβs residual influence before she reached out with her mind seeking a that familiar presence.
It wasnβt hard when there was only one that could match it on the entire island.
βFound it.β
Siena stood to her feet even as she allowed herself to plunge headfirst into a familiar link.
Another swell of emotion was beaten down by a series of rational thoughts in a desperate bid for Siena to remain in control. Repairing the damage to her body with Tia's name was an option, but it would drain her, and she couldn't afford that. Escape. They had to escape.
But she'd let go of Brent during the fall, was certain that somewhere in the rubble, her original source was lost. It seemed like a hopeless endeavor to try and escape with two people, especially in her current condition. What about his condition? He'd been wearing clothes to defend against the weather, but would that be enough to protect against a fall? Too many thoughts again.
'Leave him.' The thought, Siena understood, did not refer to Gregory, and a vile repulsion pushed the thought away. That wasn't why she'd come. This was why she had agreed. This was why, because the bookish mage knew that he would have come alone. Because he would have come alone, and he would have died, and she was only here to ensure that he came back. A heated reminder she chanted in her head as Siena turned her gaze to the rest of the room, grisly thoughts of what if in her head.
What if he was dead? What if that laser had caught him while she hadn't been able to call a barrier? What if the laser was able to shatter a stronger one? What if? What if? What if? What if?
"Ngh...shitshitshit..." The words were little more than a quiet breath as her eyes fell on the boy, body sprawled across the floor. Images of a faraway memory, no, a dream, a hazy dream that didn't belong to her came to mind. Broken, shattered, failures. Another surge of emotion, a blend that she recognized, and did not recognize and--gold eyes, staring lifeless. No response even when Siena had tried to weave pain into the limbs--not again, not again, not again.
'Oh my god, oh god, no. No, no, no, shit. Get up, get up, get up, get up, getupgetupgetup.'
Siena dragged herself in a half-effective crawl--Stay low to the ground if it happens. People are always trying to take a shot.--the pain searing through each motion that moved the injuries wrong. It took a back seat in the wake of Tia's overwhelming need to fix, heal, protect...she was supposed to protect him. Another three thousand thoughts, too many of them as the brunette dragged herself to close the distance. Another pulse of pain, her senses seemed to sharpen. Real. Disgustingly real.
"Brent." Something else lingered behind the name. A black, twisting feeling that writhed in the pit of her stomach like a coiled serpent. What if it was the same? Thoughts of Victor's name pulled at the corners of Siena's consciousness, thoughts of digging her phone out and trying in vain to take a third name when she knew it wouldn't work. Gold eyes, no response. Listless, empty, gone. No response even when she'd increased the pain beyond what she would have used on herself. Another jolt of pain, another barrage of colorful bursts in front of her eyes.
A voice. A little girl, calling out as her flesh blackened and melted like overcooked meat in a vat of boiling water. No, the unintelligible groans of a man as he tried to make sense of the impossible changes his flesh was undergoing. No, the last whispers of the already-dead, mouths puckered out like gasping fish, frozen to entirety until they were cremated where they...no, not that either. Further down? Higher up? He strained against the haze that clouded and mix-matched his realities. A voice. Familiar. Calling who?
"That's not..." Brent strained, legs still awkwardly sprawled out on the floor, even the coldness of the storm unable to stimulate them. "...no, that is."
Deep breaths against lungs with an anvil pressed against it. Bad. Very bad. Had prepared for the coming of the enemy. Hadn't prepared for jumping into a warzone. Invisibility. No, even scouting everything out before deciding to make the jump. Too rushed. How many were out there? Gregory was...who?
"Go."
Alive.
Something between relief and terror washed over Siena as she heard acknowledgement. Not the same, then, but that much worse. The first words struck odd. What wasn't? What was? Her mind filled in gaps, or at least it tried to. Hallucinations? Auditory ones, visual ones...it didn't matter. What was and what wasn't didn't matter, what did was that he was still there. Leave him. Again, the cold, merciless thought surfaced. It was right. Siena had little choice but to acknowledge that her chances of survival were significantly higher if she left him behind as a sacrifice.
"Seriously?" A single word hissed through grit teeth and mounting pain. Something more that lingered beneath the surface, and Siena knew what it was. Desperately had to remain in control of it, and opened countless other floodgates to drown it out.
beatbreakruinfleshbloodbone
Hers. Not hers. Protect, fix, heal. Her muscles tensed, spasmed lightly and drew a softer, inaudible hiss as she moved closer. Shield. She should shield, protect them while she prayed that she could hold onto the teleporter for long enough to escape. Up and down was more difficult, had always been more difficult. Took more time to calculate, and time was something they sorely lacked...but if she called a shield, they would see. They would see, and they would come, and that laser, the same one that had torn through the room...
She willed herself closer, pushed through the flashes of pain that threatened to let instinct overwhelm her. Hold on. Just a little longer. She had this. Had to have it--no pulse, skin still warm. Her fault again--because what would she do if she didn't? Her mind almost gave out again under the strain of the chaos. Too many thoughts. Too much pain. Too much, too much, too much.
"Hand." The demand was strained. A distant part of the girl scolded her for not being clear, but the fewer words, the better.
Hand. Stand. Demand. Wand? No, that looked similar but was definitely wrong. A thousand pins lightly pricked him with every movement, but he still pushed his hand outwards. Towards her. Go. But where? So little time, and his senses were pulling back to him now, ears finally registering the world outside the dissected, flooded, smouldering attic. Gunfire, screams, and laughter.
So underprepared. So eager to avoid a small loss and so eager to incur a greater one.
One hand out to her, that made things easier. Siena grimaced, knew she would regret it, and let more weight than she should have land on the bad arm. The pain was blinding, almost shut her down again, but the brunette managed to reach, vision blurred, head spinning, why wasn't she shielding? The first attempt missed, drew a hushed swear, and the second one managed to touch flesh, couldn't keep herself from gripping tighter than she needed to.
But she could barely...couldn't quite...the name was already starting to dribble away, draining at a steady pace. LEAVE HIM.
She couldn't.
"C'mon, c'mon...!" Quiet desperation seeped into the mutter, and Siena felt her grip faltering. One attempt. Two attempts. But she'd held on for longer before, hadn't she? She just needed to hold it for a little longer. Just one jump...! Three attempts. Her grip tightened on Brent's hand, and she felt it take.
Gunfire cracked outside, the remaining soldiers still fighting against the deadly trio. Haphazard whips of red laser swung and hissed through the rain as the two jumped around, movements overwhelmingly impossible to follow. Whenever they could get a moment to stand still, more orange beams of light shot towards the soldiers and the mansion, alternating while curving red lines cut clean through more of the guards. In the attic, another stray orange beam seared away much of the roof before it snapped away and flickered into nothing, the enemy group outside dodging gunfire once more.
Gunfire, wind, rain, the acrid smell of her own fear trying to clog her throat...and everything shifted. A careful leap from one spot to another, the jump further than she'd gone on the way up. Not more than one jump, she wouldn't make it if there was more than one jump. Her mind rattled off thoughts, covered up the feeling of stomach-churning nausea as they reappeared, her body twisting slightly as they reappeared, orientation seemed off. That wasn't such a big--
Crunch.
White hot, black ice, she didn't know what it was, but it cut through her without remorse, made her eyes water, her mind go blank. A pristine, chaotic tapestry that wove itself with mismatched threads of silk as the bad shoulder struck the ground, did not pop back into place. A cross between a pathetic yelp and a strangled cry managed to pull free from her, lungs trying desperately to keep the voice restrained. It did little when the tunnels were eager to mock her with a distorted version of her own voice.
The names fled from her then, left her with their hearts, but not with their abilities, and Siena took carefully measured breaths. Another cautious breath as she tried to ignore the throbbing that pulsed in her ankle, a dim, distant sensation compared to the pain in her arm. Another deep breath to try and numb the pain as her vision cleared.
"S-sorry." A strained apology, still through grit teeth, pushing aside pain like a curtain as Siena tried to sit up. She needed to fix her arm, but they had to leave. "C-c'mon, let's go."
Gone. They were back here again, in the secret room of the mansion, the sounds of combat muted. The afterimage of that final orange beam still burned itself in his eyes, and slowly, in the silence, Brent gathered himself up again. Last name: Roless. Hobbies: everything and nothing. Power: Overclock. Equipment: machete, night vision goggles, pepper spray, gas mask. State: a miserable excuse of a human being.
He should be the one apologizing, not her. He should be the only one here, not her. Goddamnit, and his legs were still numb, unmoving nothings. The helplessness of his very first fight flooded back. The disappointment of his very first shot flooded back. The failure of his very first plan flooded back. For a moment, everything flooded back, murky, shallow depths that drowned him regardless.
Wishes wouldn't turn white to black. Prayers wouldn't turn the weak to the strong. Determination wouldn't reverse spinal damage. He knew what he had to do. But he still disliked it.
"Legs not working." Keep it simple. "Need a cart. Something that rolls." She wouldn't bury him. "Don't think about carrying me." He wouldn't burden her further. "Just help." They can't fold now.
At any given moment, simple words and phrases could make everything fall apart. It was all just a matter of finding the correct words.
"Legs not working" were certainly the right words at that exact moment.
'Did I--' A riptide of thoughts threatened to drown Siena in the blink of an eye, sweeping away the pain and fear with an overwhelming volume of helplessness. Her fault. She should have stopped it from getting this far. Should have found some way to avoid the entire situation. Should have, should have, should have, but didn't. The expression on her face failed to falter, remained the cautious, combat-fueled mask even when the cracks widened beneath the surface. Another current, softer and cooler trickled through. Plans, courses of action for escape.
'Leave him.' Wouldn't. Couldn't.
"Shit..." The Arbiter breathed, grey eyes going straight up, back toward the estate, thoughts of gunfire and burning streaks of color still fresh in her mind. Going back up wasn't an option, but even if she pulled a name to create a cart, the construct wouldn't last forever. Summoning one from the mansion...? No, she didn't know where to begin finding one, and taking a name to try and scout one safely would only dampen her ability to bring it back down. Shit. "'s not really much of an option. Going back up is a terrible idea." Siena took another carefully measured breath, winced when she felt her shoulder protest, then dug into her pocket with her good arm, drawing her phone from its place. Another grimace at the fine, web-like crack that snaked its way halfway across the screen, but it was still working. That was enough. She flicked through sources as quickly as her mind could process them, still trying to create a new plan. Each had pitfalls worse than the last. "Not that the other options are much better."
'Orphic blood, maybe?'
That would drain her. It would probably take everything out of her, and even then, it might not be enough.
...
Fuck.
"I...may need your machete."
A breath. Did they have time for this? To ask questions, to discuss things? No, not after hearing all those screams, watching those beams, feeling everything...shit, he hated being wrong. They should have left immediately. He didn't even have a gun, for God's sake.
"Take it."
No time at all for reasonable actions.
"Right." Quickly, then.
The screen of her phone flickered to life, unfamiliar characters whispering meanings directly into her head. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea, but it was the fastest one, and that was far more important than all of Siena's usual precautions at that moment. The brunette didn't let the abundance of probable consequences stop her when she reached for the blade with her good arm, mind twisting things into place as quickly as it could. No healing. Healing would take too much, and she couldn't be sure that it would hold. If it was just a cart made of what was available, even if it didn't hold, she'd have enough in her to manage it a second time--assuming she didn't pass out first. A hopeful, optimistic assumption.
Dim purple light came to life, amber overtaking Siena's eyes, everything feeling...almost the same. Right. The bastard Orphic wasn't too far off from what she was used to, was it? But there was something more, and Siena understood that.
She understood that fully as she let the machete bite into the flesh of her injured arm, holding back discomfort with a stoic expression. She wasn't of that land, but she could bridge the gap. Orphic magic, Orphic blood--they were almost one and the same. The first droplets were more than enough to close the distance between her abilities and what the land could give her, the excess nothing more than a stronger support for the pathway as a murky green fog twisted the earth around her into shape. Magic in the veins to create magic in the world.
Siena continued to bleed, continued to support the connection as she felt her stamina draining, the fog fading out, leaving nothing but the crudely shaped "cart" of stone in its place. Not something that the magic maintained, only something that the magic shaped...it was easier to work with the world outside than directly on a person, after all. The name faltered and Siena gripped it tighter, masked the uncertainty with a quiet breath. "It...should hold."
He wanted to support her, to help her. If the cost of her magic was blood this time, so be it, but he wanted to at least be able to dress up that wound. But it was always like this. For all the knowledge he had, all the facts he knew, all the useless things he carried with him, he never considered what was most important. He assumed that if they were injured, they were dead. That first aid kits weren't necessary when they had magic healers. That pointless little interactions were more important than learning combat-applicable skills.
Christ, even though he knew, he never applied.
"You could have done better."
Old words came back to haunt him as he crawled towards the stone cart, hands scraping against the rough sides as Brent pulled himself upwards, useless legs flopping about like the arms of airdancers. More effort than expected, more of that pinprickly numbness. He crawled, pulled, grasped the edge and brought himself over, a mess of limbs before managing to orientate himself. A quick jolt of power sparked into the cart and remained. He could use it.
"Get in," the arbiter managed, fighting the reflex to check the battle phone. "Going pedalling."
Two sides that refused to meet surged in response to the command. Instinctive need to obey, a wary caution that didn't belong to her that flared up in response to that desire, both twisting into each other despite the quiet nod before Siena hobbled her way to the cart herself. Her vision alternated between flashes of white and wavering darkness, first pain, then exhaustion, a return to the former--the inconsistency kept her moving, let her drag herself into the cart with only a few grimaces and new teeth marks on the inside of her lip to show for the pain.
'Leaving would have been easier.' It wouldn't have been, but in the heat of the moment, it certainly seemed like it.
"...sorry I can't do more." ...no, not quite. More sorry that she couldn't do more before. Could never do enough. She kept the machete firm in her grip, a faint sense of security in its presence despite knowing it had done its job already. "I'll...try to speed us up."
As Siena climbed in, Brent's arms and face lit up, both his night vision goggles and the cart beneath them bursting and reforming, separate overclocks occuring simultaneously. Locked over his amethyst eyes like a stylish visor rather than a clunky set of goggles, it altered what he saw before him as if they were in broad daylight instead, while the material that made up the cart changed as well. Though still as hard and clunky as the stone it was made of, much of the excess stone was gone, rudimentary wheels becoming round, perfect circles. Not enough yet. Another joly of silver circuitry manifested a system that allowed him to pedal, stone groaning as handlebars connected to gears and chains, the cart getting another pointless cosmetic upgrade as it pulsated with blue light.
It was complete, but he almost lost that connection when Siena spoke up, apologizing once more for a situation that was his own fault. Goddamnit, he was broken, she was bleeding, they were both isolated and alone, and they had gained nothing due to it, outside of antagonizing their classmates with the stupid bullshit he kept getting people dragged into.
"No," Brent said, eyes narrowing beneath the black visor, "Stop. Rest up as much as you can. I'll handle at least this much."
Was this all he wanted to say? All just half-measures?
"It's my fault for being useless. Stop apologizing."
The wheels squeaked as he began turning the handlebars, propelling the cart forwards down the tunnel. At least his arms worked.
Stop apologizing--she could imagine Maya saying the same words, but apologies were the best that Siena could offer when things went wrong. 'You've never been the best at mistakes.' Again, the brunette almost responded to the demand with another apology, caught herself this time only because they started to move, stopping the words in her throat. She could still help, and again a need to fix, protect, heal rose. Not hers, but she wanted it to be hers, didn't she?
"It's not--" The words stopped, the thought cut apart by a harsher one. Not his fault, but words were empty when there were things that could be done. So the girl swallowed the words, let them drop back until they were gone, and replaced them with different ones. Ones that weren't quite so empty. "...I'll be fine. The sooner we get back to the others, the better."
Not the words she wanted to say, but they weren't facing each other. No real concerns over being seen through. One hand on the phone, instinctively flicking through sources and names again. Nothing off the top of her head, but that was all occupied with physical pain and worthless regrets. The motion was only some simulation of comfort in the midst of thoughts of orange beams, broken bodies, and gunfire. Siena hesitated over a source briefly. It wouldn't speed them along, but it was...safer, wasn't it? Another thought of the laser that had seared the roof brought images of being torn through, vaporized, annihilated... A cold chill gripped her stomach, and she lingered longer. Just in case.
Up down, up down. The momentum built up and pedalling the cart became slightly easier as it went down the tunnel, wheels churning against the dimly lit path. There was nothing fine here, not really, not when both of them had two non-functioning limbs and gained nothing out of it. Not when Siena was hellbent on burning herself out while his own reserves remained uselessly full, no marvel of technology available for him to boost that could change the situation in the blink of an eye.
It was never through power usage that he exhausted himself.
"Don't use it all," he said, back turned, stomach turning at her statements. "We'll need everything you have later, 'ena."
Ah, like this, he was better off being a magical battery instead.
Up down, up down.
"Cuff transmit," Brent said, a calm tone veiling how horrible their states were, "We're coming."
Barrier was up, movement was steady...the unease and anxiety had started to even out into a level feeling, no longer jagged spikes that drove into the girl's head in erratic movements. One moment a spot of hope, the next a chilling sensation of understanding that she was making a mistake. She visualized the dome of pink safety, murmured the hushed incantation, knew that if they appeared, they could be safe from the wind and rain. If a hostile was there, at least they would have a enough time to make a quick escape with the barrier in place. Protection. Warmth that didn't belong to her, and the brunette understood it.
She understood that even when the world fell apart.
Countless thoughts of what could go wrong and how to fix them, and Siena knew that none of them mattered as she felt herself falling. Falling again. The Arbiter didn't have time to gasp, didn't have enough surprise in her body to take in a sharp breath as things fell apart, and she knew--she knew--something was wrong as a harsh jerk ripped the feeling of fabric away from her fingers. As her eyes widened and a battalion of thoughts and fears rose with banners raised high through the haze of pink and purple. She could make a jump, save herself, but the girl knew that what her mind demanded and what she would do had a clear divide in that instant. She could save herself, but in that exact moment, there was no way that she could save--
"Bre--!"
Her voice shredded the thoughts, a wild beast that reminded the girl why she was there before her vision suddenly shattered into starlight and fireworks.
Hurt. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt.
Where are you now?
Eyes opened, still pink, still running on the names that she had drawn, a need to protect rooting itself deep, tearing through things like survival and rational thought, but it did not last and
It hurts.
she felt bitter, brutal pain try to rip that away as her fight or flight responses started to come up like weeds through concrete. Another flash of light tore through the room and Siena knew they could not stay. Move. Move, move, move! But her shoulder screeched in agony, her ankle bellowed in protest, and everything was hurting and it as pain and
The fifth time she'd taken his name, Siena had come to realize that she was clinging to pain the same way a child clung to a blanket. A level of security in its presence around her, near her, on her, and the brunette understood that something was inherently wrong with it, with her. She didn't know how to explain it, only understood that when things hurt, when she hurt, when someone was in pain, it wove a beautiful tapestry of sensations that she wanted to feel, to pick apart and recreate, even if it had to be from her own body. Again. And again. And again.
it was not right, so she grimaced, knew she could not afford to do things slowly as she stayed low to the ground, the disgustingly calm part of her head running through the reality of the situation. She was injured, enemies knew where they were, even if they could not see. Hostiles present, it hurts, her shoulder felt wrong--separated? Dislocated? Gerwulf had shown her how to reduce a shoulder before, his own joints easier to disfigure than they should have been. Could she do that alone?--and her ankle was swelling, a throbbing discomfort that threatened to grow into something more. Too many things at once, but they all pointed to the same thing.
Rest was still hard to come by, even after Siena had abandoned her attempts to stop dreaming by cutting it off at the source. The nightmares were easier to deal with after so much exposure that the girl couldnβt quite feel at ease until something began to torment her with undesirable thoughts and memories. Part of her wondered, then, if they were really nightmares at that point.
It was the dreams that made her wake, heart pounding not in fear or dread, but in a dull, longing ache that dipped her conscious thoughts in something between a frustrating sense of fury and something distant that she could neither identify nor deny. Remaining in control of something that she didnβt recognize was significantly harder than it should have been at that point, and she knew it. Before the thoughts could spiral too far out of her grasp, a soft whine alerted Siena to the other presence in her roomβright. Chief Tater Tot.
The dog had been surprisingly useful in keeping Siena grounded, always reminding her of his presence when her attention drifted too farβso long as he was in the room. The canine demanded nothing more than that, no truths, no sacrifices, no commitments. Justβ¦acknowledgement.
βSorry, Chiefβ¦did I wake you?β Speaking in a hushed whisper, Siena checked the time on her phone, a clear sense of awareness more than enough to tell the mage that she wouldnβt be returning to the realm of dreamers that night. Just short of 4 in the morningβa quick calculation in her head reminded her that sheβd worked herself to exhaustion before midnight. More sleep than usualβ¦she supposed she could take some solace in that. Pushing herself out of bed, Siena moved to perform her normal morning rituals.
A long day ahead, as usual. Crimson light lit up the sky, its purpose far removed from the last time any colors had filled the sky. Flare. The identity of the radiance more than enough for Siena to abandon her task of carefully selecting an outfitβor any outfit at all, really. Still dressed in little more than undergarments and an ivory slip, the girl opted for more important items. Coat, phone, e-readers, booklet, shoes that she could move in, and with a quick scooping motion, Chief Tater Tot.
It had been happening too frequently, Siena thought, that she wasnβt surprised to be moving through the estate. By the time sheβd reached the basement, her eyes were already seeking the ones that werenβt there. Couldnβt find a certain raven-haired Aberration, couldnβt quite count out the correct number of people in their class. At least two missing in the class, who knew how many among the staff? An attack in such a remote area was probably a byproduct of chance. A monster that happened to find its way toβ
βHostiles on the island. Amigos do Pai, if you know of themβ¦β
Her grip tightened on her e-reader. Outmatched. They had at least two others out there.
βAcceptable sacrifices.β Were they really? βNecessary ones, at the least.β
As her peers trickled out, Siena couldn't help but feel a vague sense of relief that, as far as she knew, there was nobody to read her mind. How many would have hated her? How easily the thoughts ran toward sacrifice instead of salvation. Her gaze flicked toward Marcus briefly, reminded herself that there were certain sacrifices that had to be made, and certain ones that had to be avoided, her eyes turned back, e-reader still held in one hand, Chief Tater Tot still settled in the other.
If she had to talk Chris out o--
"'Ena. Teleportation range?"
'He's gotta be fucking with me.' Was the immediate thought before Siena even turned her attention to the familiar voice.
"A-are you serious?" Was the incredulous reaction that managed to wrench itself from her mouth.
"Not saying we should go pick up whatever pieces remain of Angelic," Brent replied, unbothered by her incredulity, "But Grego's heading to the manor on foot, going by my phone. What's the range?"
The pieces that remained of--oh. So Angel was gone...a hollow pang of something that should have been regret or guilt echoed softly in the pit of Siena's stomach, but it wasn't enough to take her focus away. Acceptable sacrifice. Couldn't be prevented--she'd have time enough to feel legitimate remorse when they escaped. If they escaped.
No time to linger on the thoughts.
"The range doesn't matter if there's nowhere safe to land." Which meant both avoiding hostiles and keeping anyone from being cut in half by an unfortunately positioned tree branch upon materialization. An alarm continued to blare in the back of the girl's head. Of course he was serious. Of course. "Do you even have a plan if he's being left alive for bait?"
Brent tapped his night vision goggles. The beginnings of a smile reached his face, but he quashed it before it got farther than the tightening of his cheeks. "Visually sweep the area while verbally guiding him with cuff transmissions," the arbiter replied, dead serious and acting like it too, "We have the gear for that, and if he's heading in our direction, all the better."
No, there might be another limitation here.
"Or do you have a delay inbetween teleports? My thoughts were a quick in and out after confirming safety, but if you can't manage that..."
There was the out. An easy enough lie to make.
Christ. He was serious. The issue of getting the fuck out just got a lot more difficult. A cold, bitter voice in the back of her head chided her. If he wanted to sign his death warrant, then she should let him, right? Another sacrifice that should have been easy enough to accept. Except it wasn't because this was a senseless one that she might be able to prevent. Shit. If she'd had a free hand, she might have pinched the bridge of her nose, a poor imitation of frustration. Instead, Chief Tater Tot gave a rather audible pant--not quite what she was going for.
"Your thoughts sound like a death wish." But Siena gave nothing to confirm or deny her capabilities. Instead, a quiet sigh as thoughts continued to fill the girl's head, a sense of dread flooding her stomach. Her eyes drifted to the sound of something happening nearby--Zoe? It seemed like Lawrence had it handled. Not something that she could afford to have take her focus--it took less than a second to come to that conclusion. Better things to wonder about. She wouldn't want the answer, she knew, but Siena raised the appropriate question regardless. "How exactly is that sentence going to end? If I can't manage that, you'll figure out a way on your own?"
A shrug. A helpless smile. "Without you, I'd have to work out a way around them first."
With that, he began to walk off, down the tunnel. Setting a brisk pace, he delved into the depths. If Siena followed close, that was fine. If she didn't, that was also fine.
'Shit.'
Not nearly vulgar enough to express the cocktail of emotions being thrown over an open flame. As Brent's pace quickened, Siena found her own speeding up to keep the conversation from growing any louder.
"You realize both options are essentially suicide missions, right?"
"Mhmm," Brent nodded, slowing his steps, "But everything I've been involved in has been one, so...you know how it is."
Life or death was inconsequential, after all. He wasn't living a subnatural's life to live a long one. He wasn't the one deserving of living long anyways.
Unbelievable. Siena resisted the urge to bury her face into her dog's fur and let out a muffled groan, restraining the reaction to a quiet breath. Brent had a point. Most of their duties thus far had been borderline suicidal. She took another breath, held it, released it silently. This was a terrible idea. They were going to die out there if she let it happen. Siena knew that about as well as she knew that trying to convince Brent to leave was a futile endeavor. She'd probably have better luck trying to convince Chief Tater Tot that he was a bird. Unbelievable.
"First, nobody else comes or at least one of us won't make it back." Every rational part of her mind screamed in protest. Bad idea. Bad idea, bad idea, really, really bad idea. Something that might have been a mental roll of the eyes came up in response--as if she wasn't fully aware of what a horrendous idea it was to try and stick around longer than necessary. "Second, you are literally the worst library knight I have ever seen."
From where Marcus was anxiously leaning, there was a lot of conversation going around for him to catch anything but small keywords. 'Amigos' was the word of the day, clearly, but there was one other set of words that made his ears perk up, if only for the misfortune it brought whenever he heard it.
"...suicide missions, right?"
His head lifted up, looking to the source of the sound; Siena and Brent. He had no context for this, absolutely none at all, but it would be those two if the context was anything like what he imagined. He looked towards their direction trying to give his best 'oh you better not be' glance, and making no attempt to hide the fact that he was now trying to make himself aware of their conversation.
"A truly heinous one," Brent agreed, "To risk harm to the literary princess for the sake of a mere acquaintance. I'll accept the pillory and whip after this is done."
Eloquent and measured as it was, his blood was still quickening, as he slipped beside Siena, catching Marcus's gaze with a reassuring, genuine, reflexive smile.
"Roof of the estate first. I'll need to get my visuals, 'ena. Maybe let go of your dog."
"What the fuck. You can't be serious."
Ernie wasn't expecting this from Brent, asking someone who was meant to be a friend to put their ass in the open like that. A suicide run against the Amigos. A seething voice at the back of his head wondered if he was stupid or just didn't give a shit.
He'd been listening in since 'teleportation' was mentioned. It couldn't be a good idea.
"It's your power, Siena. Your call. If you think Gregory's a lost cause then we can all get the crap out of here without losing anyone else to these druggie fucks. Brent, can't you just send a cuff message Greg's way? Tell him to stay put?"
Grey eyes caught the look from her roommate, darted from him to whatever was happening behind them, then vanished behind her eyelids as Siena tried to reason out what was likely to happen in the situation--at least, she would have if Ernie's voice hadn't cut through the thoughts. She kept her eyes shut for a moment longer. If she wanted to be completely honest, without having a precise location on Gregory, even the strongest of teleporters wouldn't do much for them. That aside, she could think of countless combinations of names, but if even one hostile happened to be nearby when they landed...
Despite her best efforts, a minuscule shudder ran up her spine. She hid it by lowering Chief Tater Tot to the floor.
"If he's close enough, then there's a chance, but..." But Ernie was right in his immediate reaction. It wasn't a wise idea. The Amigos would probably slaughter them if she made a single misstep, had even a fraction of a second's worth of hesitation before making a jump. With Marcus evidently gearing to listen in, Siena knew better than to say any of those doubts out loud--the last thing she needed was for him to prevent the presence of her safety net by interfering. Memories of D.C. came to mind, of having a phone one moment and nothing the next--no. Couldn't afford that. The smallest delay between using her own abilities and using the powers of her mark was likely to prevent the plan from taking off at all. "...well, the usual risks, I guess."
"Your call indeed, 'ena," Brent replied. "Roof of the estate to get bearings. If he's getting chased, then we return. If he's alone, it's in and out. Not asking you to jump to him immediately."
A cursory gaze back. Were they getting suspicious? No, even if they were, the distance was against them, and Siena's own telegraph showed from the front, not the back. If the bookworm acted quickly, at least.
"Just be decisive. Won't hold it against you, honest."
Her call. It was hard to piece it together when it suddenly mattered what she chose to do. Siena paused, held back another shudder of apprehension, and felt the pressure bear down in full. Her call now whether Gregory was an acceptable sacrifice. 'He is,' thought the cold-hearted Santana. 'Getting yourself killed won't help him or anyone else.' Her eyes trailed over to her reader, one hand poised over the power button.
"Five minutes. That's all I can guarantee." It was startling to hear the words--hadn't she just decided that the Aberration was an acceptable sacrifice? A dim thought pulsed like a dying light. The issue wasn't whether she thought Gregory was an acceptable sacrifice--it was whether she could prevent another one. What good it it if I can't help you? A spike of cold irritation at the intruding thought. What good as it if she died in the process? "If I say we leave, then we leave."
"Five minutes is about all it takes." Marcus said, arms crossed. He had sauntered up beside Ernie, as if he was the one Marcus felt would back him up the most in all of this.
"Alright lets hurry up and get on with it then, the longer we wait the more dangerous it will get." Chris intervened in the conversation. "Be prepared for the worst."
Brent blinked. What? "Who's 'we'? You're not coming with us. 'ena, make the leap whenever you're ready."
The arbiter rolled his eyes. "Whatever, just get back as soon as you can, I aint leaving until you lot return in one piece."
"Jesus," Ernie hissed, glaring at all of them. Of course Chris would be the exact opposite of the voice of reason here. Fucking prick. "No one should be coming or leaving anywhere. We don't even know what the Amigos want here."
"And if we sit here arguing about it were all more likely to die. If Brent and Siena are going out there for a fast rescue mission then I want to be here to make sure they come back within five minutes. If you want to save your own skin or if there isn't much you can help with I recommend going to the lighthouse with the others, otherwise, zip it."
Ernie's eyes flared dangerously. It was stupid to get in a petty fight right now. Real stupid.
But fuck, this guy was an asshole.
"It's not my skin I'm worried about, Tiki Torch. I'm not the fucking dumbass about to charge into a fight with some souped-up mercs. Why the fuck do you care anyway? Scared of losing more victims to spitroast?"
Daggers shot from Marcus to Chris at that comment, but nothing was said by the Time Mage.
There was a sharp glare in the dragon arbiter's eyes. "I'll be damned if I let myself leave anyone else behind, I'm sick of running and I'd rather risk my own life then to just keep turning my back. I understand the danger, but if Brent wants to make a gamble to save a fellow comrade then I'm taking that gamble as well. Now either you shut up and get to the lighthouse or stay here with me and wait."
"It's more dangerous for us to land if there are people here. You'd do better making sure everyone's left." Siena said, flicking her e-reader on.
Brent nodded at that, really not a fan of the argument brewing here. "Seriously, Chris, get going with the others. No one needs to fight the Mexican Friends today."
There was hesitation in his response. He had already lost Angelique, and while he didn't knew Gregory all that well, losing a second subnatural in one night is just another crippled blow, and now Siena and Brent were risking their lives all the while Chris was left unable to do anything. From his experience, they'd probably fail, Brent and Siena just two more names added to the casualties all the while Chris continued to walk amidst a valley of death. "You better make it back here alive." He mumbled lowly. "Alright then, lets get moving then." He stood up and got ready to move, but waited for the rest of the students to take the lead as he wanted to be in the back; a mere thing of comfort, for if by chance they needed assistance or if something horrible came from behind, he'd be the first to answer it.
"Brazilian," Ernie corrected uselessly. There was really no talking them out of this?
The helplessness he'd felt at Wisford returned threefold, prompting a harsh grimace on his face. None of them knew how dangerous the Amigos could really be. He tried to reason it out. Siena was fast. Brent was smart and equipped. They were going to be fine.
Dread seeped further and the Aberration's mouth began moving, spouting advice like a stressed mother watching her kid leave into the night.
"Keep your cuff channels open. Don't try to beat them in even a three on one fight cos you will lose. If you see even a sign of an Amigo nearby, run. Don't bother looking for Greg if you haven't found him by then."
Sighing, he knelt down and picked up Siena's pet. Marcus couldn't do it and he sure as hell wasn't going to trust Chris with this. The canine squirmed slightly but the Aberration held on tight. Despite the goodwill, he couldn't help but cringe at the thought of dog hair on his clothes. Silly, thinking of that sort of thing when death was around the corner.
"Five minutes is too long, guys. I wish you didn't have to go at all."
Technically they didn't, but that was besides the point.
Listening to Ernie give advice--something in the back of her mind came to life like dim pinpricks. Something odd about the words--was more than enough to remind Siena that they were outmatched. Amigos. Killers. Another shudder tried to creep over the girl, but she didn't allow it to spread. Couldn't show what she was feeling in that situation, so Siena didn't. More reminders that it didn't matter how well prepared she was because the most she knew about what they might come across was the fact that they were wildly dangerous. Don't think about it so much. It was too hard not to. Instead, she focused on her peers, focused on replying to Ernie's final words.
"...yeah, I know." The words were quiet, more because it was hard to acknowledge that there was an astoundingly high chance that neither she nor Brent would be touching back down in the tunnel than anything else. As if it could hide that grim fact, Siena gave a half-hearted attempt at a reassuring smile, the emotion that she tried to convey failing to completely push through--not that it should have in that situation. Siena was anything but confident about the scenario. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to let on the most vocal words echoing in her head:
She was terrified.
"We should hurry. While the opportunity's still here."
Helplessness channeled itself as anger in Marcus's mind, and there was a moment when Marcus's eyes darted around the room. From Brent, to Ernie, to Siena. They were seriously going to let this happen. They were actually going to wander out into enemy territory with the high likelyhood of getting themselves killed. Because the two of them thought they were invincible or something? They thought they could defend themselves against subnaturals if they needed to?
They couldn't even defend themselves against normal people.
"Fine. Go save him." Marcus finally said. "Try not to make any uneccesary sacrifices out there." he said, looking to Siena.
"We're doing this to avoid making unnecessary sacrifices," Brent said, before sighing. Yeah, he was more or less pulling a DC-Ernie here, wasn't he? Running off from the rest of the group for no real clear reason. He scratched the back of his neck, before placing a hand on Marcus and Ernie's shoulders.
"Sorry 'bout this, guys. See ya both in five, eh? Also, stick around Grant. That dude knows what's up."
Ernie responded with a silent nod. Saying anything now would just end up with him lashing out.
Dont flinch. So she didn't at Marcus's words, at his gaze, at knowing exactly why he was looking directly at her. Siena kept her expression level, or at least as close to level as possible, as she flashed an apologetic look to her roommate, sources flicking by on her screen. With the storm outside, a traditional teleportation was out of the question unless she wanted both her and Brent to be dead upon materialization...but that was where a wide pool became such a powerful ally, wasn't it? More than one jump, she thought. It would be too much risk to try and make one massive one, and beyond that, she'd need a place to stop before they reached the roof--a way to create a small safe-zone for their imminent materialization...
So a teleporter and a barrier generator. Preferably in that order. Sending her glance back, Siena measured the distance in her head. From here to the floor up, two floors up, from the highest level she'd physically reached to the roof. From where she was standing to the nearest people that might try to interfere--'Assume Marcus and Ernie will both step aside if you are rushed. Assume that anyone in front of you may attempt to stop you.--and acknowledged that she had to act quickly. The Arbiter released a soft breath, and then sent her gaze to the sources. At least with a shield at her disposal, they might have some protection against certain death. A soft purple light, a faint pink that seemed to grow more vibrant as it took over her eyes, and an oddly fitting presence. Too weak to do anything on her own. Again.
The preparations were done. He could tell by that shift in her eye color, the iridescence of her irises. Nodding once more at his friends, Brent walked back to Siena. There were no words needed now, huh? The silver blood that pumped thickly through his veins thrummed beneath his skin, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
One hand rested on his machete, while another was offered to Siena, unsure of whether or not physical contact was necessary for the teleport.
Time.
God, this was a bad idea. Standing at a metaphorical cliff and looking straight down to the jagged rocks, and the carefully stitched curtain was starting to come apart. Siena didn't release the reader from her hand, let her gaze sweep over the group, settling on Brent. One hand offered to her, one hand resting on a weapon. He seemed more confident than her, seemed as though he didn't realize how afraid he should be of the situation. Should she have said something? The thoughts rambled on and on, trying to cover up the one that lurked beneath the surface, whispering in her ear with a repetitive chant to remind the girl what she was feeling.
God, she was scared.
No. Not the right words. Another thought that masqueraded as the truth.
'I don't want to die.'
Siena didn't trust her voice not to waver. So don't use it. She didn't. She stepped past the offered hand--too much distance, too much space. The less area they took up, the less risk there was. She dug her fingers into the fabric of his coat, took half a step closer, and felt it again. A shudder of fear that managed to pass through her, spreading like a chill from her gut to everything else. A soft, carefully restrained breath to control it did nothing, so Siena let the tremor take it too, squeezed her eyes shut, and felt the brave mask come apart for an instant. She was going to die.
It was hard to find time to cease being restless, harder still to find the will to sit and close her eyes long enough to drift into sleep. Not when she knew there were nightmares waiting, new ones that she doubted she would want to remember. Things like cars and civilians, crumbling buildings, people she couldn't save, relationships that she shattered because "it was necessary" when each passing moment made her uncertain whether it really was. Besides which, there was far too much for her to do, too much to improve on.
New books to read, new sources to find, new ways to create some sort of connection with names of people that she knew would only serve to weaponize her further.
But by 1 AM, Siena noticed the spots that were starting to blot her vision, small splatters of ink that blinded her. By 1:30, it became painfully obvious that trying for more was foolish. By 1:45, the bookworm had made her way to the kitchen and helped herself to a cup of hot tea--the type that had enough caffeine to wake her, but not more.
When 2 AM came around, the girl had taken to settling on one of the couches in the billiard room, one television on to news set on mute so there was motion to focus on, her cup of tea still half full in her hands and getting cold, her eyes drifting toward the entry to the gym every so often. It would be easy, she acknowledged, to slip into the habit of moving. Doing something with herself so that sitting idle wouldn't fill her head with constant revisions of events that she couldn't fix. Things that a Santana would have, should have, done differently. Things that Harker wished had happened.
She sipped the tea out of habit more than out of any desire to moderate the temperature--the liquid was hardly enough to burn at that point anyways. There were other things she didn't want to think of too, weren't there? The phone nestled in her pocket had been silent since the last message she'd sent.
Why?
She took another sip of tea.
And there she was again.
In the depths of his own room, Brent's eyes glazed over at Siena's location marker. 2AM and she still wasn't anywhere close to sleeping, even if Siena had been floating around like this for the past couple of days. The arbiter himself wasn't much of a sleeper either, but when he slept, woke up, and realized that she was STILL awake and about?
It was cause for concern, especially now that she had followed such a demented routine for almost an entire week now.
And maybe he did feel a little bad about ragdolling her around in the library as well. Just a little bit. Not enough to apologize or anything like that. Brent nodded to himself, reassembling the handgun. Yup, if they jumped back into the past and he was in that same situation again, he would have done the same thing.
Walking down the stairs in his loungewear, Brent made no pretense as he marched towards the light that shone in the otherwise darkened estate. He passed into the billiards room, saw that familiar head poking out from the couches. Thought, for a moment, that she had finally fallen asleep after all, and that no intervention was necessary. But Siena moved, sipping at something, and he sighed.
"Heyo," he said, leaning against the wall, "Up pretty late, huh?"
A familiar voice came through the air, and Siena glanced at the source, her fingers curled around her mug. Part of her wasn't entirely surprised, given their previous rooming arrangements and surprisingly similar sleeping patterns then, but it was late, and she hadn't seen anyone else in her initial wandering. Was it a coincidence?
"I could say the same to you." Her fingers remained wrapped around the mug, and Siena moved away from the center of the couch to one side. "Not exactly in gym clothes, so...you here for late night television?"
It was worse. Out of place even, and in the dim lighting, Siena looked almost gaunt, her eyes too wide open in consideration to the rest of her face. Gray lethargy clung to her gaze, a far cry from the fire he had seen during their foray in the library, and it all only served to confirm that yes, she was steadily on the path of sleep-deprived self-destruction. Did the events of DC still haunt her? Did those scenes emerge whenever she closed her eyes?
He sat himself beside her, leaning slightly away.
"Naw," Brent replied, "Had some things to handle on my side. Thought I'd take a break before going back to it."
Things to handle? Curiosity peeked its head out, but Siena held herself back with a significant amount of effort. Not tonight. Instead, she offered a smile, tried to hide how tired it was, but couldn't keep it all out. It was a good effort, she supposed.
"Taking a break at this hour instead of calling it in for the night?"
"Gonna forget it in the morning if I do,"" he replied, "Still, that's me. Why are you still up?"
Because I don't want to sleep.
Yeah, not the best answer no matter how she swung it.
"Couldn't sleep." Not a lie, but not really the truth either. "I figured some background movement would help."
"Background movement for most of the week?"
How did he...? Siena hadn't seen anyone the other days. Her eyes shot up to Brent's face, looked for something that might give her an answer for a moment before realizing that no matter how hard she looked, a facial expression wasn't going to give her a detailed answer on how.
"U-Um..." Should she lie? Tell a partial truth? The answer didn't come to her. "I didn't..." Didn't what? Lost the answer she had been tryig to forge, and instead tore her gaze away. Down to the mug, something that didn't demand an answer.
Difficult, huh? Something that she didn't want to say aloud? Something she didn't want to admit, a further depth in the madness and ugliness and emptiness that was Siena? Brent wasn't sure, but he wasn't in any rush.
"Take your time," he said, affording a small smile, "Just keep it real."
Keep it real. Well, if there was one person that would know if she was being honest, it would be Brent, woudln't it? She didn't raise her gaze from the mug, wished that it was still hot for a moment there.
"Not a fan of dreaming." It was the easiest way she could explain it--the only way she could really admit it. It wasn't just the nightmares that she avoided, after all. The mage did not lift her eyes. "Easier not to this way."
He let his eyes focus on the silent television for a few moments. It was celebrity news. Safe and stale. What he needed to digest the morsels of truth that she scattered. Dreams. Nightmares. A fear of them leading to this almost suicidal idea of just...not sleeping. Even if Brent realized he was calling the kettle black, he still couldn't approve of it. At least he napped.
"Doesn't sound easy to me," he replied. "Sounds more like punishment."
He might have had a point, but it would have been more punishment to take the dreams, wouldn't it? To have no choice but to relive or reimagine things that she could remember. Things that were on her mind all the time, things that she had spent as much time as possible not thinking about. Siena felt her grip tighten slightly on the mug.
"I never said it was easy. Just an easier way out."
"Still gonna just horribly burn out due to this," Brent pointed out, "Unless you're gonna go at it until you start hallucinating."
"I doubt I'll last that long." Siena was surprised at how candid her honesty was--too tired to try lying or too aware that it wouldn't work? She couldn't tell. "But at least it's just one night."
Just one night?" Brent echoed. Sure, if you assumed it was night as long as you didn't sleep, even if that meant being awake for a whole week. Or maybe he was reading her intentions incorrectly. That happened as well. But regardless, he wasn't going to back down. The arbiter wasn't going to let her fall apart just like that.
"Hey," he started, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Even with the weight of exhaustion, Siena knew the answer to Brent's question. "No." She was taking one easy way out already, what was one more? Still, some quieted portion of her mind reminded the girl that the path of least resistance wasn't exactly much of an option where Brent was involved. A phantom pain, just a faded memory of a bruise that spread across her shoulder was an ample enough memento of that fact.
Still, talking about the things she avoided, remembering why she avoided them when she said them out loud, might make them too real to deny.
"About not sleeping?" No, that was avoiding the question. But wasn't that easier? "Or about not liking dreams?"
"You've slept before," the arbiter pointed out, turning to her, "You slept in La Plata and DC. Tell me about what changed. Was that riot incident all there was?"
His eyes switched to the television, still silently going on about the vacuous life of rock stars. Recalled. He had followed his own story in La Plata, and was also aware of the interviews of his classmates, even the ones that refused, ran away from them.
"Or was it the media coverage as well?"
What had changed?
She thought of the media coverage. About how she'd tried to evade the reporters in La Plata and how the coverage of DC had wiped out traces of the massacre. That had only been the lynchpin. She could have lived with nightmares, had been living with them. But memories? Assumptions? Actual dreams about why? She didn't want to see what sick little fantasies the part of her that preyed on every doubt she'd ever carried would create.
"Nothing changed." And it hadn't. She would have had nightmares about the riot incident. Would have continued to have nightmares even if they'd managed to prevent it. She hadn't changed. Still a little girl too scared to shed a name, too hurt to acknowledge that maybe her doubts were wrong. "Other than having more to think about."
So it just built up. All those separate, horrible incidents that she couldn't forget just continued to stack on, adding to her nightmares until she preferred constant exhaustion to the house of horrors that was her subconscious mind. He should have noticed then, during their short time rooming together. But he didn't. Preferred to focus on other things instead. And with Siena still managing to sleep back in DC, he didn't notice the problems at all.
But now, if this place was also attacked, if this sanctuary was also turned into a battlefield, how much more could she push herself?
A part of him wondered where the butler kept sleeping pills. A part of him came to the conclusion that maybe drugging Siena and forcing her to get a full eight hour's of sleep was viable at this point. But those parts were held back for now. Suppressed.
"Only going to have more to think about as life goes on,"he replied, "Not gonna last long if you go into everything half-dead."
Not lasting long doesn't sound like the worst option.
But she had things to do, spots to fill, people to be if she wanted to be of any use. Not lasting long meant that she wouldn't be able to do any of those things, wouldn't be able to make use of all the work she'd put into being something useful. Her fingers gripped the mug again, and Siena masked it as taking a quiet sip of the tea. The liquid only brushed against her lips, didn't make it past that. If she let her mind wander far enough down the rabbit hole, she knew what was easier to admit. The way things had gone the past few days, there wasn't much more to think about. Only more to do.
Trade lessons, become a monster, be there to listen, follow orders. She didn't have to think about those things.
"More to think about and more to do, yeah." Her gaze slowly trailed away from the mug, watched the screen for a moment, but eventually drifted toward the other Arbiter in the room. "But I'll manage."
"Because you're confident? Or because there's no other choice?"
She couldn't prevent the honey-venom smile from forming, a sliver of the one that she hated in the mirror.
"Pick your poison, I guess."
"Rather find an antidote, thanks." He brushed off that diseased imitation of a smile, a reminder of just how far down both of them were. "Couldn't even manage me, and I doubt DC's mystery bag of fun will be nearly as endearing."
"And if I think that mystery bag will be easier to handle half-dead than whatever happens to be there when I close my eyes?"
"Then how do you plan on finding yourself, 'ena?" Had she forgotten already, about how she called him a coward for not wanting to look at the ugliness that laid within? "Might be a bit selfish, but how are you going to help me if you can't face yourselves?"
"It's not me I don't want to face." ...maybe it was her, or at least the part that Siena didn't want to hear repeated in dreams that she might not be able to discern from reality. Didn't want to hear it from the mouth of anyone that she cared enough for to dream of.
"If it's not you appearing in the darkness, then who?"
People that can hurt me.
"Someone I'd rather not care about."
"But that person won't disappear just because you ignore them."
No, he wouldn't, would he? The girl gave a bitter smile, turned her gaze back to her tea, and wondered whether it was ignoring or simply avoiding in her case. Siena shifted her grip, turned the mug in her fingers until the handle rested comfortably against her thumb--just another distraction to keep her from thinking too far.
"No, they do a perfectly good job of disappearing without that."
"Do you miss them? Or do you fear them now?"
It was a good question, one that Siena wasn't entirely certain she knew the answer to. She'd pushed thoughts aside as often as possible, kept them carefully locked away where they couldn't distract her. Letting them free didn't help in seeking an answer, only gave her pangs of longing, hurt, and anger. Simply a reminder of why she didn't want to face anything the dreams might create.
"Both, probably." It wasn't a sure answer, not that she often found stable footing in those thoughts.
"But you're confident that if you close your eyes, the version you fear will be waiting for you. Why?"
A flash of heat that she couldn't stop.
"Because it's the same person!" The words were sharper than she meant for them to be, harder than they were supposed to come out. Step back.
Brent didn't flinch. They had rougher interactions before. More violent ones. A burst of outrage wasn't going to stop him, if a fist to the face didn't.
They're the same, and yet, you'd rather ignore them entirely in hopes of avoiding the fear that they inspire in you? Even though you also long for them?" Feelings were naturally paradoxical. He wouldn't fault her there. "So why is it that the fear is dominant? What happened to make them disappear, and leave such a mark?"
Why?
But she knew the answer. Knew it as soon as she had run out the door after the first dream and saw the expression on their faces. The one of mild interest from one, the tense, cold eyes of the other. Both had looked at her like it was some unexpected development. She wondered if they'd worn the same faces when her father had called.
"S-stop. Please." Couldn't quite breathe, fingers pressed tight against the mug, eyes staring anywhere else.
A plea, but...
"I will stop," Brent said, placing a hand, tentatively, on her shoulder, "If you can face this yourself. If you promise to sleep. Because you do need it, Siena. I...don't want to see you like this. Just..."
He ran his hand through his hair, temporarily at a loss for words. Temporarily unsure if he was even allowed to go that far. Temporarily unsure if he deserved to. But those minor doubts were squelched soon enough.
"...I don't know how to help you if you don't say anything, but...I'll be there for you if you need it," Brent managed finally, "Even if you don't need sleep, I need you to. Cause you can't help me if you're half dead, and I don't want you to push yourself to help me when you're like that."
Too much, too heavy.
Brent wasn't sure if he should maintain contact.
"Sorry if that sounds practically useless."
A hand on her shoulder, enough to make her fingers marginally press against the porcelain. Siena couldn't keep the instinctive thought from her mind. Reflexive despite her best efforts. Don't touch. Not the same vehemence that had struck her when at DC when it was panic and strangers, something different. Don't touch because...because what? Because she had hazy memories and a need to recoil when someone might care more than she wanted?
She shut her eyes, little reprieve against anything, even if she pretended. What good is that if I can't help you?
"It...it doesn't." Eyes still shut, still uncertain. If she could face it herself? When she was doing everything to avoid it? The idea was almost laughable--would have been under other circumstances. At that moment, it only felt defeating. Facing it alone was exactly why she had decided that sleep was easier to give up. Because she couldn't, and nobody else was going to show up if things took a turn for the worse. Not unless they were there to tell her the same things.
They had taken one look at her, and decided she was a monster.
"I know I'm being a coward."
Eyes closed. To supress the disgust within? It gave him enough pause to considering letting go, but, just like every other 'temporarily', Brent decisively squelched that. He wasn't going to give up. Wasn't going to let Siena self-destruct. Like this, she wasn't just stagnating, she was depreciating, crumbling to pieces while locked in place.
That...was something he didn't want to see.
"If you know that, then you should know what to ask of me, right?" A small laugh. "We've said a lot of embarrassing things to each other already, so hey, don't censor yourself just because it sounds awful."
Did she really know? Siena felt herself falter, wondered if knowing what to ask and being able to ask it were the same hurdle or different ones. Taking a quiet breath, the girl let herself think for just a moment longer. No real reprieve. Would he have been disappointed? Probably. All those lessons to handle herself, and this was what she had to show for it.
It took more than one try for Siena to eke the words out.
"I--" She hesitated. "...I need help."
All the words he needed.
"What would you ask of me, Siena?"
What did she want to ask for? Slowly, she opened her eyes, raised her gaze from the mug to the screen, watched a few people speaking in silence over information that didn't matter in the long run. Slowly, the brunette let her focus shift, settle on the presence next to her. What do you want? Too many things. One thing.
Or maybe there was something that she didn't want that stood out above anything else.
"Help me forget that I cared about them." A pause. No, that wasn't what she wanted. Her gaze fell slightly. "Or help me forget that I used to be human."
"You're st-"
He stopped himself. No, trying to retain their identities as 'humans' was pointless, because it didn't matter. Didn't she discuss that with him before? The superficial differences between humans, subnaturals, and monsters. They could all be sinners. They could all be saints. So Brent stopped, nodded.
"I'll help you with that," Brent replied slowly, amethyst eyes matching her own, "If this is what you want, I will help you forget your humanity. But 'ena, in exchange...never, ever lose your individuality. Don't discard your bonds, because those are all a part of you. Don't discard your feelings, because those are what fills you. Don't ask me to help you with this just so you can run away."
It was still his own selfishness guiding his words, right?
"Can you promise me that?"
'No, I can't.'
Because there was no individuality, no feelings that she could say fully belonged to her. Nothing concrete like Emma's Tulpas. Nothing concrete like the resolve that she'd seen in the week. She wondered, briefly, it she should have told Brent about how easy it had been to stamp out the bonds that had threatened to form, or how tempting it had been to keep doing it. Maybe she was running. Both sides that refused to meet clamored--wasn't that what she wanted?
"I can't promise what isn't there." Still grey eyes, still her own thoughts, still her. "Didn't I say it before? I tried to fill myself with names and it made it worse." Should she really start down that road again? Siena didn't give herself a chance to think it through, didn't have enough there to do it. "They're not my feelings, so what good is it to keep them?"
"But someone is still here, and you can work with that if you don't let yourself look away from what you don't want to see." Word by word, that line rolled out of his tongue, modified just so he could help her remember once more. Did she want to forget? Even if she did, he wouldn't allow her to. The lost can't help the lost.
"Every lie has a truth," Brent said. "Doesn't matter if it's concrete or abstract. If you throw away those last grains of yourself trying to flush everything else, then, well...you're gonna be way too close to me, right, 'ena?"
He was right, wasn't he? But that was too easy, too simple an answer. Every lie with a grain of truth, every feeling that she stored away still carrying with it a part of her own heart. Too easy, and not enough. A breath. Her gaze remained focused, one hand finally separating from the mug, only to finally make an acknowledgement of the hand on her shoulder. The same cautious touch, barely more than her fingertips.
Don't--
Her fingers drew back, a quick recoil that left the touch hovering just above the flesh.
--touch. Because touch reminded her that it was real.
"How can you sure that there's anything true about it?" About what she presented, about what she held back, about the storm of hazy memories and uncertainties that had drained her until there was nothing left. No, she wasn't asking him that, was she? Something that she directed at herself.
How could she know?
"Because I trust you."
She was taken aback despite knowing where it had come from. She'd told him she could be trusted, and still she blinked as though hearing something out of place. It wasout of place for her, and it put her at a loss for words, grasping for whatever words she could find. The ones she found were not ones she wanted to hear. Reminded her too much of what she'd been trying to avoid thinking about. Hurt, betrayal, pain that she couldn't ground herself with.
"Can I trust you?"
He moved before he realized what a bad idea it was. His hand left her shoulder, placed instead over her own.
He spoke before he realized the full connotations of it. "Yes, you can."
But moments after he fully digested what he had done, Brent neither retracted his hand nor his words.
Once, there had been--
'Stop.' Something cut through the memory, ran Siena through as though to pin her to the present, where her mind could not leave. Held in place by a callused hand, anchored her to both the immediate present and a hazy past. He didn't know. Couldn't know. Something familiar and entirely unfamiliar bit into her, but she breathed in to keep herself steady, to keep her gaze steady when she wanted desperately to hide behind any name available to her.
So why did she believe him then?
"Okay..." A single word affirmation that she needed to hear more than she needed to say. "Then I'll trust you."
"Okay."
Brent nodded.
"Alright."
Yup, this was awesome.
"Mm..."
He let go of her hand awkwardly.
"So...got sidetracked a little...but, uh...Siena, it's pretty late, and I'm pretty sure your tea's cold now. Want me to fix up a drink for you and then you get some sleep in after?"
"O-Oh..." The moment had not been lost on Siena, or at the very least, the moment of inelegance had not been lost on the girl. Instinctively, with her now-free hand, she pulled at the end of a stray lock over her shoulder. Twisted the strands until they were taut and on the verge of snapping before quickly untangling her fingertips from their bindings. Right, bad habit.
But that didn't matter when she needed to know what she was capable of. Memories of her conversation with Emma came to mind--a vision that heralded a change of power. Something that could make her stronger? Before, it had always been an improvement on what she could do. Another name, another choice, another option...but it had been over a week, and though Siena had spent hours trying to figure out exactly what had changed, she came up with nothing. None of her usual names had gotten stronger, none of her usual attempts had gotten longer, she couldn't take a third name...what was it? Her eyes trailed down, traced over another series of letters and words, took them in, and did not pull. She'd tried this name too. Nothing had changed.
'Trial and error is so ungainly...' Siena thought to herself while groaning. She'd even tried, to no avail, taking a name that lacked any powers, and had found that it did nothing but leave her stuck with a useless intruder. Settling back, she tapped to another source, this one different from too many others. A book that wasn't really a book, she thought to herself. Nothing but memories written on a page if she went by context. She stared at the words. Once, long ago, she had tried to pull from the source, and found that it was pointless--apparently her perception had twisted the abilities. The talent was there, but not the catalyst, not the means. It resulted in trying to soothe even more than usual in the aftermath.
...maybe that was what had changed?
'Nothing ventured, nothing gained...' So she did. Purple light filled her room, the usual presence of a man trapped in a cycle, the turmoil of trying too hard to pick apart his identity, trying too hard to stop something that couldn't be stopped. It didn't really feel very different from the norm. The same tingling sensation in her right arm, the sa--no, something had felt different compared to the last time. She hadn't really felt when she'd used her ability last time, but this time...
Something felt wrong.
Her eyes trailed to the odd, prickling sensation that kept dancing like sparks along her arm, and Siena felt her heart freeze in place, her stomach fill with lead, and her mind completely stop working. What the fuck? What the fuck?! It wasn't her arm, that wasn't her arm! In its place was a grotesque abomination, a paltry grey color marred with blinking eyes that she dared not count, dared not look at. A trail of motley, yellow eyes that peered at her, blinking, waiting to see--and they could? No, she couldn't...her head was spinning.
She gasped, recoiled her arm, as though she might be able to separate it from what she was seeing, felt her--not her palm, not her arm--palm touch the frame of her bed for support, then felt a searing heat lance up her arm, which shook the girl out of her moment of shock. Then came the spires that tore through the arm and seemed to hover for a moment, waiting for a command. They were three flashes of white hot agony.
She heard herself screaming before she realized that she was.
The spires responded in kind, launching themselves with surprising precision in the direction she'd been facing, burying themselves into the wall for a moment before they seemed to unravel in wisps of inky smoke. What the FUCK?! The Arbiter jerked her arm back toward her body, as though it was safety, felt the palm briefly make contact with her shoulder, felt something worse than the spires that had appeared from the flesh. Another cry, this one more of pain than the previous one, and she recoiled again, monstrous arm left dangling, her left shoulder marked by black veins that seemed like they were peeling from her in wisps of dark mist. She didn't know how to control the sorcerer's power.
The raven-haired Aberration snapped out of her thoughts as a piercing shriek could be heard nearby. Jumping out in surprise, Angelβs mind quickly was on alert. This screamβ¦ it was Sienaβs.
Quickly running up at her door, the young woman wasted no time banging out at her door to make sure she was in. Angel body slammed into the door as she turned the handle, not expecting it to be actually left unlocked. She stumbled into the room, falling up front on her knees. When she raised her head she could see holes into the walls, as if something had shot into them without leaving any trace, but what mattered the most was the girl in the middle of the room.
βSiena! Are you al-β¦β
Her arm⦠definitively shaped like a humanoid, but twisted, gross, an aberration of a limb with creepy eyes and shit,
βW-what the fuck is that!? What happened? Who did this to you?β
The door opened and someone spilled into the room. Someone she couldn't immediately identify with her head spinning, her arm not seeing in the same sense as her natural eyes, in some twisted, darkened reality. A strange burst of colors that only left when Siena willed the eyes shut. It took a moment longer for the girl to focus her own vision onto the intruder--Angel? Siena tried to speak, was about to reach an arm to try and help out of instinct, then remembered what happened when she'd touched her own skin. Not safe.
She recoiled, backpedaled from her initial intentions, took a few rapid steps back.
"D-Don't get closer!" Not safe.
Perhaps, in different circumstances, the scream wouldn't have shaken up Zoe as much as it did. But that mixture of pain, of fear-- it wasn't the same as hers had been, but it was close; too close. No, Siena wouldn't, she just wouldn't try to die like that. On some level, the logical part of Zoe remembered the girl didn't even have a stigma to stop her. Nonetheless, she'd scrambled out of bed as quickly as possible.
Once in the corridor, it wasn't hard to spot the open doorway. Even easier to spot Angel on the floor, though she didn't look hurt enough for Zoe to worry about her safety. Words came out as quickly as she could think of them.
"It's not - not like the motel, is it? Siena wouldn't--" There was panic in the redhead's expression as she approached, finally looking past the rockstar and towards the arbiter who'd been the source of the screaming in the first place. Her expression became relieved upon seeing that Siena was alive, before becoming shocked. "Siena? That's..." Not a normal arm. Not even approaching a normal arm. How..?
Angelβs eyes looked to her fiery redhead friend who entered the room next, inquiring about what happened and even worrying herself over that it might have been a repeat of the motel incident.
Chris's lack of sleep was disturbed by a sudden scream from the down the hall. It took him a moment to reckognize Siena's voice behind that scream, and so Chris bolted out of his dorm in his Pajama's to the scene. By the time he got there Angelique was already attempting to console her. "What the hell happened, is everyone alright? Are we under attack?"
No, no, why were more people coming? A bizarre feeling made the arm seem to throb, as though hungering for something. Siena knew what it was, denied it what it craved. Couldn't give it what it wanted, and tried to step away from the growing number of people. Not safe. She took another step back, angling her body to keep the arm as far from the presence of others as possible, felt her heart almost skip a beat when it almost brushed back up against the bedframe again.
"I-I don't, s-something must have changed about..." Not her arm. Icy blue eyes trailed over to the group. "J-Just stay back, I...I don't know how to keep it from--ngh!" The eyes on the arm opened again, eyes seeming to swivel and look around. Her head ached, pulsed with discomfort, and Siena grimaced, willed them to shut again.
"Don't crowd her. We're not being attacked. Hell of a lot of security, and no-one's broken in. If they had, they'd have killed her instead of fucking with her arm. Don't let anyone charge in." Observations she wouldn't have made before her own incident. Clarity thanks to that sick part of her which didn't mind seeing a friend in pain.
"Siena, can you look at me?" Zoe's voice was firm as she tried to meet the arbiter's eyes. Taking a step to the side, just so she wasn't putting anyone else in the line of fire. "We need to know what's happening if we're going to help."
Donβt knowβ¦ Something changedβ¦ Blue eyes where grey should beβ¦
Those details. It suddenly dawned upon Angel. Could it be that...
Marcus had heard the scream; it had awoken him from his own restless night, and as the confusion faded and he forgot whatever it was that had been accompanying his dreams, he wasn't sure whether to thank the person or not. However, the grogginess didn't last very long as his brain tried to process the information he'd been given. There had been a scream, right? And it was...female. That much he was pretty sure about.
Even if he wasn't, and the scream had been from his own imagination, it wouldn't hurt to at least take a powerwalk around the lodge. Just to make sure things were still in working order.
It wasn't hard to find the crowd of people, and Chris, gathering around a door. The person whose room it belonged to caused a shot of worry through his heart. He'd had an argument...or at least a discussion outside this room not too long ago.
He silently snuck as close as he could to the doorway to at least hear what was going on, including a slightly unfamilar voice sternly mention not to let anybody charge in, and Angel mention how Siena's powers had 'evolved'.
Right. It was dumb to think that it was only happening to him.
He stayed outside the room, leaning slightly against the wall with his eyes closed, to better focus on listening. Siena and him weren't exactly on the best terms right now, and from the sounds of it, she might have been having another panic attack or anxiety thing-he-didn't-know-how-to-describe. That was something that he A: Didn't want to put himself in the middle of to deal with, and B: Didn't want to have Siena associating him with.
Too many panic attacks with him present, and she'd start to develop some sort of Pavlovian respose whenever he was near. Which would make rooming extraordinarily difficult.
Was it really evolution? Too many people were demanding her attention, and Siena took a breath before glancing between the two Aberrations that demanded her attention at the same time. Her head screamed yes, it was an evolution, but another part screamed louder. Stay away. The girl nodded in response to Angel, took a quiet breath to calm herself. As long as she stayed away and didn't touch anything, it'd be fine. The arm seemed to waver in consistency, a small tendril of dark smoke coming off of it before it resolidified again.
"Just...stay back, please." The plea was about as firm as she could make it. "I don't know how to turn it off, and it--" It did things like rip the life out of what it touched, what it was aimed at. Sacrificed things for power that she didn't want at that moment. "--it's not safe." But how could she prove it? That was the best way to push them back, right?
Chris, though initially alarmed, tried to calm down. Whatever became of her arm was something out of a nightmare, practically. And here he though her powers were just involved with books. If it really was something involved an evolution of her power, then hopefully that meant she wasn't endangered at least. Could a subnatural's own powers kill them? He didn't know, but he wanted to believe that was impossible. ""Alright. Siena calm yourself. The best way to handle some new power is to stay calm, panicking might make it worse. Everyone else keep some distance away whatever's happened to her arm could attack us."
Chris leaned against the wall away from Siena before he continued.
"Now, is that thing sentient? Like does it have a mind of its own?"
Calm down. I'm trying. Siena would have said the words out loud if not for the more pressing matter of the arm's mere presence making her head spin. There were too many answers to Chris's question--yes, no, sort of. It didn't think for itself, but that didn't stop it from having influence. A quiet bloodlust that seeped beneath the surface, soaking through her thoughts. The only alarm that continued to blare was that the arm wasn't safe. Not safe, not hers.
"I don't know." Carefully worded, carefully devoid of most of the emotions that were trickling through now that the fear had started to subside, replaced by equally unpleasant feelings of frustration. They were still too damn close. A throbbing desire pulsed, as though something urged her to plunder, and she knew she had to prove a point. As though it was a natural instinct, a motion that she couldn't resist, the girl withdrew, right hand touching the flesh of her forearm. Another flash of pain as though she'd shoved her arm into a furnace, the black veins and crimson smoke spreading from the point of contact. It wasn't surprising that time, but Siena still jerked the hand away with a hiss of pain as though she hadn't expected it. Best to let the results speak for themselves before they could fade.
"How about we save the twenty questions until after her arm's not doing that?" Looking at the state of the arbiter's arm, Zoe couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. Black veins, smoke, holes in her arm... it didn't exactly look good. If there'd been any doubts that it was dangerous, they disappeared at Siena's hiss of pain.
Zoe scowled. Siena wasn't in control of it, was she? It was like the thing - or Siena herself - wanted to hurt somehow, as though there was an urge that she couldn't control. And wasn't that just painfully familiar? Zoe raised her voice a little, speaking to the other two. "Guys, back off. Anyone needs to approach her, I'll do it - I'm better placed to defend myself." Dark as the thought was, it wouldn't be the first arm she'd severed.
Chris watched in worried horror at her arm, the pain she felt urged some kind of protective instinct to comfort her, but how? Getting any closer was dangerous for the both of them potentially, and there wasn't any simple solution Chris could see to fix this..other then.. "Get closer? W-what do you plan on doing?"
"Nothing, unless I have to. As for what that means, it's not that hard to figure out, dumbass. Stay. Back." Zoe didn't have much patience for explaining things right now, and voicing what she was perfectly willing - if not a little too eager - to do probably wouldn't help to calm down Siena. 'I might rip your arm off' wasn't the most reassuring phrase to overhear.
Saying nothing else, she took a more decisive step forward.
"Zoe, do as she says and give her some space. What you are about to do just might make her more volatile. We don't know if her arm is the only thing she has right now." the black-haired Aberration's whispers projected next to the redhead's ears, for her to hear alone. There was no need to panic the others.
"Lets not do anything rash." Chris protested, still pressed against the wall next to the door. "This place is mostly of subnaturals right? Maybe we should ask them for help, they might have seen something similar to this and have an idea on how to treat it?" He hesitated, unsure of the plan itself. "I don't want to see anyone losing an arm if they don't have to."
Great. Apparently the idea of 'lets not talk about ripping Siena's limbs off in front of her' had gone over Chris' head. Shaking her head in response to Angel's protests, Zoe spoke again.
"Didn't we just say it's a power thing? They're all specific, why the hell are they gonna be able to treat this one?" Zoe sighed, her eyes remaining fixed on Siena as she spoke. "I don't want anyone getting hurt unnecessarily either - unless my life's in danger, I don't plan on ripping anything off." That being said, she certainly wasn't doing much to avoid the possibility.
"Unique, yes, but we aren't experts Zoe. Granted I doubt anyone has experienced the exact same thing as this but by chance, if someone here does have an idea how to fix it, its better them do it then us. Were rookies after all, do you even have an idea of what your doing? I want to help her as much as the rest of you, but there is only so much we can do by ourselves, let alone try to fix whatever is wrong with her powers right now." A pause as Chris dwelled on the thought. "We could at least get a healer, could do something about the pain at least if it doesn't outright..fix it."
"Then go fetch an expert yourself, or stop whining, shut the fuck up and let me try to fix this. What, you wanna do a survey? Maybe ask everyone's opinion and put it to a vote?" Zoe's tone had gone past acidic and straight into downright poisonous. "Oh, I know, how about we all write down a suggestion, and start pulling 'em out of a hat? Seems like you'd rather do anything except make a goddamn decision."
Were they really doing this?
"Stop." The demand was firmer than Siena expected. Again, her arm flickered unsteadily, snapped back into stability, smoke starting to coil off of it. The idea of losing her arm was one thing, but were they really arguing about whether to do it in front of her? A flash of frustration, laced with a bloodlust that wasn't hers. Not her. That thing that wanted to grab hold of the bedframe and let the spires fire off again wasn't hers. "If it has to come off, then we'll fix it after." Another grimace. Most of the time her abilities weren't permanent. The smoke continued to trail off, the arm seeming to become less stable with each passing second. The eyes blinked, swiveled again, and the brunette felt a wave of nausea at the sensory overload. "So just stay back."
Chris was about to continue the argument, had Siena not intervened. He was silent for a moment. "I'm going to get help, Angel make sure Zoe doesn't do anything we don't have to do, if its an emergency, fine..but.." A pause before he ran out the door, but he immediately stopped when he noticed Marcus. There was a brief sense of guilt but it was overshadowed by his haste to protect. "H-hey Marcus, can you...help them out in there? Just in case something goes wrong or whatever.."
As if I can possibly stop her without wrecking everyone inside the room...
The whole scene was growing the more frustrating as Christopher was being as stupid as always and Zoe stubbornness didn't help either. Crossing her arm and leaning on the doorframe, Angel glanced towards Siena's menacing arm. So this was something Siena wasn't used to. Now that she thought of it, Siena never manifested anything physical when she called on her powers, aside that strange pink tattoo and her eyes changing color. Could it be she gained the power to manifest physical attributes as well?
"Chris, don't go. Getting more people around Siena will only make her more anxious and prone to endanger everyone, including herself. Now shut up and stay quiet." Her faint words reached out outside the room as Chris left, quiet enough for only those standing outside to hear. Her voice was harsh, but she had enough of this situation growing worse by the minute.
After his request from Marcus he heard Angelique's request, and by her logic he agreed. Chris just stood outside and watched through the door way from that point onward, not ready to leave her but not about to further disturb her with his presence.
Seriously? Seriously? Zoe's scowl deepened. Just because she hadn't backed off, didn't mean she was about to break down Siena for no reason.
"I'm not going to change my mind," Zoe glared at Angel, "so don't bother. And can we stop acting as though I'm about to start tearing her apart? I told you only if a life's in danger, and I don't tell lies." Really, she'd figured the other aberration would have a little more faith in her than that, considering everything.
"Quit treating me like some kind of rabid dog. I've had more than enough of that from the regulars." Was it unfair to compare the rockstar to them? Probably, but Zoe couldn't keep the anger from her tone at getting the same attitude from Angel of all people.
She couldn't afford Siena to snap under pressure again.
There was something about the explanation that didn't quite ring true, but Zoe accepted it for now. Her eyes remained fixed on the mutated arm as she spoke again, her tone level.
"Better she goes for me than you." With that, Zoe took a couple of steps back, giving the arbiter some more breathing room but still remaining decidedly between Siena and the others. "There. That's as far as I'm going, and it's not a point of discussion. This is taking enough of a chance as it is." It was obvious that, if Siena did snap, Zoe fully intended to bear the brunt of the damage. And she couldn't really bring herself to trust that it wouldn't happen again, even if she wanted to.
"Doesn't matter how well you can take a hit, I don't want you to." Zoe frowned, but said nothing more.
"Move."
The brunette maid side-eyed the boys by the door, rolling her eyes and shoving past when neither of them reacted. A quick survey informed her that the situation was far grislier the hallway cameras had initially suggested. Keeping her face neutral at the sight of that monstrous arm was more difficult that she liked but the maid kept her nerve. Heartbeat faltered as she recognised the other girls in the room. Yet again, she refused an outwards reaction. The Aberrations could potentially be a problem if she didn't remain steadfast. Cool it.
Besides, she didn't get paid to be afraid.
The servant woman remained a respectful distance from the Arbiter girl, an arm's length from Zoe. "May I approach, Miss Santana?"
Who...?
But it only took a moment for the visual cues and puzzle pieces to fall into place. The scream had been enough to bring others to her room, it wasn't as if the maids wouldn't have noticed. Another surge of something between desperation and mind-consuming bloodlust, held back by willpower and practice. This was not the worst she'd had to control. Siena took a careful breath, watched with her own icy blue eyes, the arm flickering faintly again. The smoke coiled faster, seemed to come to life for an instant before it seemed to dissipate into the air.
"I..." A pause. She didn't know what the maid could do, didn't know if this new face had any way to prevent harm. "I wouldn't recommend it." Too many variables, not enough control.
A controlled furrow of the brow. "Are you in pain, ma'am?"
Yes, thought the girl, thinking of the black veins and something that felt like a brand pressing into the flesh and the spires that had torn out of the arm earlier.
"...y-yes."
The maid ventured a step further. It had been a long time since she'd needed to use this. "If I may," her arms and hands beginning to glow a dim, translucent green as she held them up for Siena to see, "I can help ease that, until we figure out how we're going to help you."
Green glow, a step closer. It was like watching someone try to approach a hostage situation with a white flag. Her heart quickened, anxiety pressing at her from every direction. Instinctively, Siena felt one foot shift back. Not safe.
"It hurts what it touches." The words came fast, tumbled out of her mouth before the thought had even completed. A small chance of keeping the maid away--a faint pinprick sensation as she felt the eyes try, again, to open as soon as her focus was torn away. Siena took a sharp breath, willed them shut again.
The maid faltered. Stepping forward was a bad idea. But this situation wouldn't improve through inaction. So she stepped again.
"I don't require contact with the area. Just the person. Please don't hold yourself back for my sake, I am more than capable of handling myself should your arm...react." A half-truth.
Something about that should have rung a little off, but there was too much going on at once. Fewer variables would mean she could focus on what was wrong until it disappeared. Hopefully, it would be enough.
"A-A...alright..." She braced herself, tensed to force herself still. A quiet plea that she didn't quite know how to voice. Be careful. I'm dangerous.
With a nod, the maid moved ahead and--making sure she was in a stable position far on the unaffected side--gently rested a hand on Siena's human shoulder. Immediately the sensation of pain diminished. But so did everything else. Through the maid and Siena's body, the sense of 'touch' vanished and everything went blank. Numb and nothing.
What the hell?
Nothing was there. The pain, the--what the hell? No pain, but no sensation either--something she'd remembered spending hours to avoid when she'd taken Vale's name time and time again. What had she done? What had she agreed to? She took a shuddering breath, tried to remain calm. Not the first time.
Smoke coiled ever faster off the arm.
The maid's knees buckled for an instant before the power began its finetuning. No sensation in the body meant no balance. A bead of sweat travelled down her temple as her legs regained some feeling, not that she could notice it with her top half being completely blank. Next came the girl's senses. The maid's breaths began to shudder. Concentration kept her silent and feeling returned to Siena's right side. The maid's hand dug firmly into her shoulder.
"Yuuoorr... ssauwss? Thex-tuh," the maid cringed as she tried to form words through only her hearing. Her source. The girl needed to return that thing to whatever text she had been using.
Siena couldn't quite figure out how to stand, left leg feeling nothing, right side suddenly alive again. She wasn't certain whether the numbness was worse or when the eyes would open and close. The maid's words were...she couldn't understand. Siena took another shaky breath, head spinning worse than before. Why wasn't it gone yet? Surely it--
The arm unraveled, peeled away in ribbons of black and red smoke that seemed to waver as though through a heat haze, giving way to the flesh and bone that should have been there. Every conflicting influence muted slightly, but lingering like unwanted guests. The surprise was enough to make Siena lose her focus, her left side buckled, her right side did not. Everything was off, her balance was shot.
"Lrnmhgh!" ...the fuck was that word? She started to topple.
It worked. Perhaps a bit too well. The maid was unable to do much, merely turning the topple into a more sideways affair with the hand still clutching tightly onto the girl's shoulder.
At least she wouldn't feel it when she landed on her other side.
There had been far too many instances of falling in the time since she'd arrived at the estate, and Siena was a little weary of the sensation. Unlike the previous several though, she had something to gain leverage. Siena shot an arm out, palm hitting the bedframe with bruising force as she tried to keep on her feet. It didn't entirely work, only caused the right leg to buckle, her body hitting the frame with a heavy thud as she slipped down, shoulder and torso taking the brunt of the blow. A sensation that wasn't quite pain didn't manage to make it to her left side.
The Arbiter leaned against the frame for stability, tried to keep both herself and the maid at least halfway up, one leg like gelatin, the other folded at an awkward angle beneath her, trapped beneath badly distributed weight. Well...she'd probably feel that in the morning.
The power dissipated and all at once the maid felt exhaustion hit her like a freight train. The hand keeping Siena's shoulder aloft lost its grip. The maid tumbled backwards onto her bottom. "Ah, my apologies."
"'re ye--blrgh." Siena coughed as though to clear her throat to hide the fact that her tongue had not quite agreed with being commanded yet. She tried again, slower, more deliberate to get the words out instead of a slurred imitation of a word. "A-are you okay?"
"I...will be," the servant nodded. It seemed it was the only thing she could do at the moment, thanks to the fatigue wracking her limbs. A shaky hand moved to push herself up but the motion wasn't made quite yet. Embarrassing, really. She just needed a few more moments.
Angel stoo silent throughout the whole process. While she initially was reluctant to have the maid approach Siena, she figured that if she knew what she was doing, then she must've had a power to deal with this situation. And indeed she did, even though the scene unfolding in front of her got her somewhat more worries when Angel saw Siena toppling like a drunkard. Fortunately, it came out for the best, maybe except that bump.
The maid refused, shaking her head and remaining on the ground. It was unsightly to be helped by a guest. The house staff had an image to uphold. "I stopped the pain. Long enough for her...change to fade."
Angel retracted her arm, giving the woman a respectful nod nonetheless if only to thank her for helping Siena stabilize her powers. All the same...
Chris slowly entered the room but made sure to keep distance from the others as to avoid taking up too much space. "I-is it over? Are you ok SIena?" The answer was obvious, but Chris needed to be sure at least. With the dangers of what had happened vanishing, Chris's concern gradually faded away and was replaced with his typical emotion-concealing scowl.
"I'm f...ine..." Sort of. She would be when she found the strength to get back up--first, she had to sort everything out. Or maybe piece together everything that had happened.
'That arm could be useful if you learn to control it.' A voice that did not sneer, did not convey more than a simple observation. It was right, but that didn't make the idea any more palatable. Instead, she set the idea aside for later, compartmentalized it in the mass of thoughts that wanted to overwhelm her. Other things to focus on. Her attention drifted toward the maid--a dull, cutting pain that spread over her joints. Another way to ground herself.
"Th-Thank you."
The maid brushed herself off and straightened her dress as enough energy finally returned to get her back on her feet. A polite bow to the Arbiter.
"It was my pleasure to be of assistance," she spoke coolly, betraying nothing of her physical state, "Is there anything else I can help with, ma'am?"
Weren't those words familiar? Not Maya or Gerwulf, but plenty of others that she remembered.
The women aren't meant to be seen, the butlers are the ones that take the stage.
"Um...could I get your name?" Because she deserved to be more than "that maid" or "the help", even if Siena would have preferred to avoid the servants altogether.
She nodded. "Everyone calls me Linda."
That was all it took to solidify it. Linda.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble, Linda." Repeated the name, drilled it into her memory. "Th-that should be all we need."
Another nod and another bow, though she paused at the door for one last thing before she departed.
"If I may..." she began cautiously, "I know that I can't prevent you from experimenting with your abilities again. However if you do choose to test out that form another time it would be greatly appreciated if you did it closer to the infirmary."
Even if she'd wanted to say something against being pulled up, Siena doubted she would have had the strength or mental fortitude. Another surge of something between bloodlust and...
...remorse? Loneliness? Longing? All three made sense if she thought about it in context with her mark. All three were emotions she didn't want to feel more of.
She felt her weight sink into the mattress, and the brunette gave a quiet nod in response, didn't trust that she could voice an affirmation without anything leaking into her voice.
Angel acknowledged the girl's nod with her own, sighing softly in relief, although the girl's silence was a bit worrying. But considering what happened, she couldn't really blame her for staying quiet. "Alright... well, I suppose everything ended relatively well this time. I... will leave you to rest."
Hesitantly, Angel stepped back to the door, glancing back at the girls inside the room "Have a good night then."
Marcus was waiting outside the room, a fair distance away, but fortunately right in Angel's path. Fortuntely for him at least, because he wanted to at least get some information about what went down. At least whether or not Siena was actually okay, and not whatever she told the maid to make her leave. Plus, he trusted an account from one of his teammates more that one fore the help, despite how rude that sounded in his head.
He turned to stop Angel as she moved past, offering just a three word question: "Is Siena okay?"
Stopped by Marcus, the Aberration turned to him, a blank expression that tried to hide her current feelings on the situation. "Is she ever okay? She's stable... for now." was all that she answered him, her signature whispering swirling around Marcus for him alone.
Marcus sighed softly, trying to hide the unease he felt with her voice directly in his ear. "I can't answer that question."
He looked up, putting that thought out of his head. Her mental state was...less important right now; there would be plenty of time for her to decompress and go through all the stages of coping that she needed to. "Physically, she's fine though?" he asked again. For all their arguments, she was still his roommate, and he was still worried about her.
"She appears to be okay. That maid apparently stops pain for a moment so... she's probably only tired right now. Nothing threatening I believe."
"Alright." Marcus said, looking back towards the door in contemplation. He let a moment pass before he looked back to Angel. "Thanks, Angel. For being there for her."
With a nod, the raven-haired young woman left to her room. She still needed to take a shower after working out all that sweat at the gym earlier.
Marcus offered a thankful smile in return, watching as Angel walked by. He gave one last look at the door, sighed softly to himself, and made his way back to his room. It was better for him to not be there right now. Siena needed a few days to forgive him, or at least that's what he hoped the outcome would be.
Fingers tapping lightly at the ivory keys, at the onyx platforms that raised above them, the melody that came out the right notes, but feeling stilted despite a brisk, clean pacing. Pressing the keys harder did nothing, increasing the tempo did nothing, everything about the flurry of notes felt...wrong. Siena couldn't help but feel a growing frustration at how off it felt, couldn't help but want to slam her hands into the keys when she heard slender digits land on wrong keys where there wouldn't have been mistakes before. The easiest way she could phrase it was...stiff. Sloppy.
The notes slowed to a stop, and Siena wondered if, maybe, she was remembering the sheet music incorrectly. If she was remembering a performance she used to be capable of giving incorrectly. The brunette sighed, swept her hands through her hair to distract herself from the mounting irritation, and poised her fingers over the keys again. Right. Once more.
A low, resounding first chord to start her before the right hand started its usual dance. Quickly, quickly, quickly, a gentle crescendo as they skipped over the keys...but it was wrong. Still stilted, even when the notes were right, still oddly stiff, imperfect, and flat until a greater crescendo, and--
'This is still wrong.'
Her hands came to a stop, fingers landing roughly against neighboring notes, a dissonant sound bringing the piece to a screeching halt. Fantaisie-Impromptu indeed. A quiet breath, a sigh, and the Arbiter poised her fingers over the starting keys again.
"C'mon..."
A melody, a stilted one, was what drew Brent towards the music room. Though robotic and somewhat lacking, the notes were still crisp and clear. Ernie must be practicing for once, instead of doing whatever else he did during the day. Sounded not all that bad as well. Did the rope-boy awaken his talent or something?
Peeking a head in, Brent said, "Yo, Ern- 'ena."
Nice and smooooth.
"Trouble with a new piece?"
A sudden voice caused Siena to push her fingers into the keys, another dissonant chord that filled the room as the girl lifted halfway off the bench, turned her head to see the owner of said voice. Brent. Not exactly the most graceful presentation to give, but the Arbiter was focused on something else.
'Was he about to...?'
Wounded pride? A bit, but it could have been worse. Slowly settling back down onto the bench, Siena shifted to face the boy, attention away from the keys.
"Trouble with an old one, actually."
Did she suspect it? Naw, slip of tongues were common even for a master lecturer like himself. Walking in, the arbiter nodded. "Mmm, don't remember how it goes anymore?"
"I wish." At least if she'd forgotten, it was only a matter of looking at the sheet music or listening to the piece to figure it back out. It was something both more fundamental than knowing the notes and at the same time something that most players couldn't quite put together. "Can't seem to play it right. It sounds...boring, I guess?"
Not entirely boring, just...wrong.
"Eh?" Brent tilted his head to the side. "Let me listen in on this."
"O-Oh, um..." A sheepish expression followed by a faint grimace as Siena thought about playing something that poorly for an audience, even if it was only composed of one person. Instinctively, she wrapped a few strands of hair around her fingertips, this time refraining from pulling. "I'm not sure it'd sound very good."
"Don't think of it as a performance then," he replied, noting that almost-hair-pulling motion again. Nervous. Uncertain. Unknown territory? "Think of it as a...counselling session? Not sure how helpful my advice would be, but hey, a second pair of ears might be useful."
"W-well..." Still uncertain. Sable strings tightened like a noose around pale fingers as Siena considered it. She knew it wasn't likely to improve, and playing through the entire piece, while helpful in technical terms, would likely do little more than aggravate the knowledge that the notes were coming out sounding off. She hesitated a moment longer. "I...suppose that could help."
A pause.
"I'd ask if you wanted to sit, but I guess standing has the merit of a quick walkout."
Brent laughed, knowing full well she wasn't joking. "Yeah, I'll stand. Let's me skip a step in the 'standing ovation' thing, after all. Now, c'mon, Siena."
Show me your fangs.
"Show me your best."
If only her best was something especially worth showing.
"Right..." Turning back to the keys, Siena thought about the piece. The entirety of it, how it should have sounded, how she remembered it being played. Did she even remember whose hands had been the one playing the piece? Fingers poised, the same chord humming, the same dance, the same...
...the same thing wrong, even as she pushed through the movements, through the final frantic surge, through the quiet ending.
'Ugh, I knew it.' At least there wasn't much to be disappointed about when she knew it wouldn't magically repair itself in the span of a minute.
"Yeah..." It wasn't something that he'd run away cowering from, but it'd definitely be a lie if he were to say that what Siena just farted out with her fingers was 'good'. He had heard robots play with more grace, after all, and almost began to reconsider who was doing the teaching between Siena and Ernie when DC came up again. Right, she did manage to play in a more...relaxed fashion before.
"Not sure if it's supposed to be that way, but you were totally tensing and speeding up during all that," Brent said, nodding, "You have something else on your mind, 'ena?"
It seemed like a rhetorical question, but still it seemed to wait for an answer, and there were far to many that she could have given. Something was always on her mind, but it was usually easy to keep them compartmentalized and out of the way. Usually, evidently not being at that moment. Her fingers traced over the keys, lightly, carefully. No sound.
"You're not about to tell me that you don't, are you?"
"Naw, got thoughts up here all the time as well, but, well...if you have problems with getting the right tone out..."
Brent shrugged casually, envisioning just how smooth of an operator he was as he jerked a thumb towards the exit of the music room.
"How 'bout taking a food break before tackling mental gymnastics and music theory again? Haven't eaten yet, right?"
It wasn't hard for her to believe that Brent would have constant thoughts.
Too close.
"Ouch, caught red handed." Giving a faint smile at the suggestion, Siena couldn't deny that he was right. Forgotten again? She wasn't entirely certain--hunger was hard to process when constantly filled with other emotions. Harder still when there wasn't someone setting the schedule for her, telling her exactly what was expected. Pushing herself to her feet, the girl stretched briefly, felt cramped muscles give a breath of relief, and managed to slip out of her space. "But a food break isn't the worst thing to take."
"Mhmm, about time I unveiled my new recipes for your judgement anyways."
Leading her down the stairs, Brent stylishly slid down the mahogany handrail in a flash of inspiration, landing almost-perfectly before continuing his path through the estate. By now, he was familiar with the schedule of the workers within, and, breaking into the kitchen, the arbiter waved in a friendly manner towards Lisa, who was prepping the marinade for dinner. The subnatural maid didn't respond in particular to that, but he was also used to it. Borrowing a polka-dotted apron and rolling up his sleeves, he started up the stove, opened up the fridge, and said, turning back to Siena, "Feel free to take a seat and enjoy the cooking show!"
Like a real pro, he pulled a metal bowl out and spun it fashionably on the tip of his finger, ignoring the fact that it wobbled dangerously.
"Angelic and Ernie both gave me double-thumbs up, so look forward to the taste explosions, 'ena."
Keeping up with Brent was...not as easy as it should have been. Between sliding down the handrail and making a quick entrance into the kitchen, it was all Siena could do to ensure that she wasn't too far behind.
(Didn't that seem familiar?)
Watching the bowl precariously wobble on Brent's finger, the girl offered a laugh, but prepared to step back in case it came crashing down. Food was one thing, having an inanimate object attack her head was another. Keeping that particular thought to herself, Siena settled into a spot, taking a glance around the kitchen. She didn't spend much time in the one at the estate, having had her own meals largely prepared by either Maya or whatever chef happened to be deemed trustworthy enough to be carefully watched while preparing a set of dishes for the night. The girl had only really acquainted herself with the facilities after gaining her white mark, and even then, she'd been discouraged from it. Not her place, they'd said. Not her job.
"Well, hopefully your cooking sense is a little better than your apron choice," Siena teased while ignoring thoughts of an old, spacious kitchen that didn't see enough use. "Polka dots? With that outfit? Such a faux pas."
"Faux pas?" Brent quirked an eyebrow as he set the bowl down, before giving the apron a little twirl. Was it really that bad? Of course it wasn't! "Non, mademoiselle," he spoke, utilizing rusty French from what felt like a lifetime ago, "c'est avant-garde. Tres bien!"
And with that, the entirety of his French was exhausted. To distract himself from his linguistic failures, the arbiter got to work instead on heating the oil and preparing the batter, setting aside tall glass cups as he cracked eggs and whisked mixtures. As he did so, he asked, "Right, how were those books anyways, Siena? Got around to finishing them all yet?"
"Snrk..." Too late to stop the small peels of laughter from trying to break free, even with both hands clapped over her mouth in a response. Stifling as much of the laughter as she could, the brunette didn't have a chance to try and flex what French she could remember--would it even have been all that useful? Most of it was in relation to so-called "high culture", but what was fashion if not part of that circle?
As she regained her breath, the girl watched the proceedings with interest--cooking for herself...it would be nice to do that without having to cheat her way through most of it. She made a mental note to look into finding cookbooks before an alarm buzzed in the back of her head--answer. Right. "O-Oh! Y-Yeah."
After I picked them all up.
"About two trips more worth of them too."
Two more trips?
Brent stopped halfway through juggling the wooden spice grinders, bamboozled by SIena's reading speed. "Wait," the arbiter said, "When did you even find the time to read through all that?"
Was that what she was doing while flat-out not sleeping? Regaining his own momentum once by with some Hibachi juggling techniques that had was basically pointless in terms of the actual task at hand, the arbiter continued, "Actually, nevermind that. Found anything recommendable, Master Librarian?"
"That depends, how much Russian do you read?" A half-joking question. The girl thought back about what she had read, most of it either educational or classical works. Not entirely surprising, if a little disappointing. There were only so many times that one could read the same, tired titles with too-tedious description. "Though they seem to really like Byronic heroes..."
"Uh..." A pause. Keep it cool? Naw. "Babushka, blin, blyad, vodka," Brent listed off, as he pulled marinated deer from the metal bowl and began to sear them, three at a time, "Not enough to make a story out of, eh? And geez, they like those types? Wonder if that's the maids' interest or Zhang's...thoughts?"
"Women, food, cursing, and drugs? I thought that was the popular thing in media now," Siena joked with a slight shrug of her shoulders. It was a vague idea at best, but Siena couldn't claim to know more than those few words when it came to listening to the language. Another mental note to look into trying to listen to the languages as she tried to read them. It would be easier to manage with the suppression cuff on her ankle. "But I guess it might be both? Loads of old classics and all. I'm surprised there's as much foreign stuff as there is."
"Grandmothers, pancakes, procreation, and local specialties? Maybe some demented documentary film," Brent shot back, flipping the venison onto the raw side with a flick of the wrist. "Really makes you wonder if all those texts are just for collecting purposes, huh? Can't imagine most people taking an interest in this, unless servitude is the ultimate destination of literature and linguistics degrees."
"I certainly hope it's for collection purposes," Siena claimed. "Depressing images aside, there's too much to believe any average person would get through all that." Hell, even if she didn't have the suppression cuff, the girl was certain it would have taken quite some time to get through the breadth she'd found in the library. Instinctively, her hand fell to the phone in her pocket, fingers tracing the screen for a moment, thinking of her own abilities. "Even if I cheat, it gets tedious."
"Cheat?" Brent tried to recall what was explained before, but instead, he just flipped a slice of venison onto the table. Lightning quick, his fingers snatched it off and popped it into his mouth, quickly chewing and then swallowing, even as hot juices coated his tongue.
"Taste test," the arbiter said, using tongs to extract the others, "Definitely not a mistake there. It's really good. You'll like it. So....anyways, you got that super speed reading thing going on too then? Gotta ask, that detract from the fun of reading at all?"
'D-Doesn't that hurt...?' It was the only thought that could really form when she watched Brent put what was probably a piping hot piece of meat into his mouth. A few blinks, a small nod of acknowledgement that Siena didn't quite process in response to the claim of a taste test. That certainly did not go without some sort of injury.
...but it was probably better not to bring that up.
"Hm...I don't think it does." Because it wasn't quite like skimming over things or reading without considering anything. "I don't miss anything, and it goes as quickly as I can process it, so I guess it's kind of like reading as quickly as you can think instead of having to process the words."
"Waow, so you get a whole six-hours of satisfaction within minutes?" Brent whistled, sticking the slices of meat on a skewer before wrapping partially melted slices of cheese around it. "Sounds pretty winning, if you ask me. The same work for comics?"
"Sort of?" Giving a faint shrug of her shoulders, the girl thought about it. Transcriptions of comics were easy, but unlike words, pictures didn't have quite the same quickness. "The dialogue gets through faster than the pictures. It's kind of like reading subtitles on a movie before the actors say the lines. Still faster than usual, but not as fast as if I read the comic script instead."
"Mind boggling stuff," he nodded, pulling the cheese-wrapped venison kebab out of the batter mix. Letting the excess batter drip out, the arbiter transferred it to the hot oil quickly. One done. "So basically, comics would just be straight up confusing for you then? Reading the future before seeing it and all?"
"I wouldn't say entirely confusing..." Though it certainly wasn't as enjoyable as being able to push through words, that was undeniable. It was something that Siena was starting to realize that she'd taken for granted--she'd never thought twice about the entire experience of reading after discovering that particular aspect of her power. It had always been pushing forward to read more to gain a larger pool more than finding pleasure after that. "Inconvenient would be a little closer to the mark. Piecing it together is clumsier and slower, but comics are usually simple enough that the difference isn't too bad."
Which, in the end, was more important, wasn't it?
"I hadn't really thought of it that much before though."
"Have you just been, well...speed reading the entire time? No 'curl up by the hearth with a kettle of hot chocolate and a thick book'?"
"Um...yeah, I guess I have." The words weren't an entirely pleasant revelation for Siena to come across. Her gaze fell slightly, a faint furrow of the brow the most that she allowed through the filters. The expression was gone as quickly as it had come, and her attention returned to the cooking process. "It's weird to think about it that way."
"Mmm, ever tried turning it off?" That should be long enough. Pulling the corndog out of the hot oil, Brent patted down the excess oil with a paper towel, presenting it to Siena. "Try this out, 'ena. Got Angelic excited enough that she thought I could run a restaurant with this alone."
"W-well...no, not really." Another revelation that Siena could have gone without, but it was quickly pushed aside by the presentation of-- "Th-thanks! Um...a corndog, right?"
It didn't really look the same in the strictest sense of the word, but the general composition seemed about right. Meat, cheese, a type of breaded coating...maybe it was some new variation of it? Memories of choking on the previous one came to mind. Not exactly the most welcoming of thoughts, but it wasn't as though the flavor had been unpleasant. Cautiously taking the food by the stick, Siena could feel the residual heat rolling off of the freshly fried item.
"Well, now that you've given it such high reviews..." Siena chuckled, quietly acknowledging that it certainly smelled better than the previous incarnation that he'd brought. That said, it certainly smelled better than anything that either Maya or Gerwulf had ever managed to put together on their own. Without giving herself time to think further, the girl took a careful bite, scalded her tongue a bit, but was otherwise found herself pleasantly surprised at the onset of flavor. Savory, warm, but not lacking in texture. Better, by far, than her usual fare. Pulling the skewer away led only to a few strings of cheese stretching, then drooping precariously.
"Mnps...!" A muffled attempt of "oops" and a quick motion to try and clear the strands, which did little more than transfer the cheese from the air onto her fingers.
Smooth.
"Oh, here," Brent leaned forward with a towel, gingerly taking Siena's hand and wiping the melted cheese off. WIth one hand occupied and enough dining manners to probably not lick the cheese off her fingers herself, his action was obviously the most practical one, right?
'U-Um...!'
The sound did not manage to make it out of Siena's throat. Not that the contact was odd for her, far from it, but that had been with servants. People that were paid to do things like that to keep her from being unsightly, not with her peers. Immediately, her mind reeled back, thought to lessons with Maya about how to use small actions, little twists and turns of the phrase coupled with the faintest brushes to evoke certain emotions. To control a situation.
It was easier to think of the action in that light, so she did exactly that.
"O-Oh, th...thanks." Swallowing her breath and choking it with a smile, Siena sorted the emotional response into its appropriate place. Better to think of it the same way that she would have used the action.
"No problem," Brent waved, settling back to the task of preparing the next variety of corndogs, "Finish it off and tell me what you think, eh?" One round had been easy enough. Simple, not too strenuous, and not more than what Siena usually went for. Two had been plenty for her small frame and typical habits. Three had reached a limit--not entirely uncomfortable, but she wouldn't have enjoyed more. At three rounds, Siena doubted she could take more, had hoped that Brent was done offering her skewers of meat. Hell, she hadn't even finished the third one--only halfway through, and the girl had to come to the decision that she couldn't
That said, Siena had still willed herself to at least try the last one.
'Too full...' The thought was unfortunately more vocal than the ones about enjoying the sweet, creamy flavor that coated her tongue, an odd cacophany of hot and cool. Taking the first bite was probably a mistake--no choice but to finish it now.
"Do people really eat this much?"
Wow. She actually was packing it away. Though Angelic had scarfed it down within minutes, and Siena looked like she was about to burst after the third one, it was still remarkable, seeing her eat that much. Compared to salads and all that weak, vegetarian garbage, he'd have half-expected her to turn away the food in fear of gaining weight...which would have been a good thing regardless.
"They're a bit bigger than normal," Brent admitted, "But I've seen people pack away 4 corndogs at a time quite easily. And that's not even considering how much people can eat in, you know, All You Can Eat sushi joints. Maybe you're just used to being half-starved?"
"F-f...four of them..." Easily. She could feel her stomach turn at the thought of trying to eat four, regretted thinking about it, and then regretted so much as imagining the idea of eating more than that. Motivations aside, there were some things that Siena simply couldn't feasibly do. And here she was with one half eaten one and another with a bite taken out of it and neither anywhere close to fitting into her already packed stomach. "I think being half-starved is--w-wait, a...all you can eat...sushi?"
"You gonna finish those? If not, I can," Brent offered, eyeing what remained still. What gave him pause, though, was Siena's surprise at AYCE sushi. Wasn't that fairly common? There were pricey variations of that, after all, places that charged $30 to $50 per person, so...
"Uh, yeah, all you can eat sushi," the arbiter said, "Like...you know?"
"O-Oh, thanks." Siena took the offered escape from inevitable stomach rupturing, offering the remaining skewers before having to pause herself. Another thing she didn't know. It was like McDonald's all over again. A flicker of something between confusion and embarrassment that she just as quickly smothered out.
"E-er..." No. She didn't know. Her experience with sushi itself was limited, having only had it a grand total of two times, both times by the same chef and both times with omakase service. The bill, as she had learned later, had run higher than the normal fare. Not exactly something that she would think could urn a profit in any "all you can eat" settings. "W-well, um..." No. Not at all.
Wait...huh?
"Like, alright," Brent nodded, taking some time to finish off the fried ice cream dog first, "It's basically like this. All You Can Eat sushi is where they replace quality with quantity. You pay a fee right off the bat, get two hours on your table, and order whatever the hell you want. You eat all that until you hopefully got more than your money's worth, and then you leave. Pretty simple, yah?"
A pause.
"Pretty sure Crimen Culpae has a place like that. I'll show you some time! Really, you haven't lived until you tried it at least once."
Quantity over quality didn't exactly seem like the wisest idea when it came to eating anything raw, but as long as it was safe, then Siena didn't quite have anything to complain about. The statement was enough to have everything else click into place. Removing the cost of a personal chef, for one thing, as well as cuting away the cost of ingredients, increasing the volume of customers--including the ones like you?--and it all made that much more sense.
"Er...somehow I feel like that'd be a poor investment on my part." Half-joking, but entirely plausible. Eating more than what she'd already had so far? In one sitting? Impossible. "Getting my money's worth in that situation sounds like a pipe dream for me."
"No worries, your stomach's probably just shrivelled up," Brent replied airily, tossing in random pseudo-science. "I'm sure if you regularly eat normal amounts of food, you eventually be able to pack more in there. And after that, you can totally squeeze value out of a $15 fee!"
'I think my stomach is the least of my worries there.' But she didn't voice that particular thought. Didn't want to relive memories of being taught precisely how to eat. Precisely how much to eat. Precisely how to make herself all the more a lady while Gerwulf observed the etiquette lessons with an expression that made it clear he didn't entirely approve.
Said lessons were useful at that moment, as Siena painted a smile on her face at the suggestion. A light teasing note entering her voice--was it wise to remind herself? It didn't matter.
"Is that a not-so-subtle way of suggesting I go off the water-into-air diet?"
"Made it real easy for me before," the arbiter said, remembering Wisford once more, "But yeah, the more I think about it, the more I'm like...'yo, 'ena, you're my size except half my weight. That's hella unhealthy, ain't it?' So hm, probably would help if you replaced air with meat. Not gonna have to fit in corsets any time soon, princess."
"With no one to help tie it from behind? Perish the thought."
"'No one'?" Brent quirked a brow. "Your Highness, though this will surely be an arduous test of my character, if you ask of me to break your ribs with that infernal waist-slimming device for the sake of fashion, I will most definitely abide."
"For the sake of fashion? Is that what the newest beachwear is? Broken ribs and too many layers to count?" It was hard to keep any semblance of a straight face, but Siena was better at playing a part than most. "You learn something new every day."
"Gotta make sacrifices to remain fab, 'ena," Brent replied, giving his polka-dots apron another twirl.
"I don't think a tan is something I need to sacrifice."
"Well, Winter's coming soon," he grinned, "Better grab that tan before all this sun's replaced by sleet and snow."
"Then I suppose it's a good thing that someone is trying to organize a beach party.over the weekend." Step back. Siena did just that, let herself take a step away from being too comfortable. You aren't supposed to care. She kept the same, playful tone. "You think we'll be snowed out of that?"
"A beach party is still a beach party with or without the sun," Brent said, "And hey, if it comes to that, I'm sure we have enough of a variety of powers to make an outdoors sauna, so it's not like your swimsuit debut will be wasted."
Her what?
"My swimsuit debut?" The idea was vaguely alarming, but she kept it off her face as best as possible. Sure, her swimsuit was up to Maya's standards, but Siena's confidence was nowhere near her caretaker's. "I think a summer dress is just as good for the beach."
"Wouldn't the dress get wet in the water though?"
"...do...do I have to get in the water?"
"Isn't that the while point of beach parties? Why else would you go to a beach to party?"
A flash of anxiety, a harsh mental acknowledgement that she didn't know exactly what to expect at a beach party. That being at the beach had been a one-time ordeal, and that had been effectively marked with stomping out anything before it could start. Not supposed to care.
"Atmosphere? The ocean's nice to look at."
Real smooth.
"Are you afraid of water or something?"
There was something else down there, a flicker that had not gone unnoticed, but he wasn't here to pick at scabs. Not today.
No. Swimming was easy, she'd done that comfortably in the early morning hours when she doubted anyone would be awake. It would be hard to keep that facade up in the future. Her fingers tangled themselves into loosely hanging hair. Twist, tighten, hold.
"Not exactly..." A fake grimace here, likely only believable because she had something else to grimace about. "A lot of 'don't go into the ocean' stories and all."
Weren't there also stories about Stranger Danger that people no longer heeded when they were grown? Or stories of the dangers of being outdoors at all? Razors in Halloween candy? Stories that basically told kids to give up on a fun experience and just be docile little flesh puppets?
But there may have been a simpler explanation for Siena's wariness of the ocean. It was more dangerous than a pool, and she was going to be in a group of people who may not be all that chopper. Perhaps the trepidation there then, laid in the fact that her sources may be damaged while frolicking in salt water.
In that case then...
"Fine fine, I guess you can build sand castles or split watermelons or stuff like that," Brent grumbled, faking a pout. "Suppose the fair skin of the princess does not deserve to be scarred by the Sun's lecherous gaze after all."
"You sound like you're disappointed in that outcome. Is getting in the water that important?" The question was only half-joking. Would it have been unsightly to show up in a summer dress to a beach party? Would it have been an insult? There were too many questions that Siena didn't know the answer to, too many possibilities that were worse than having to fake being comfortable for a few hours out of the day. Keep smiling. "I'm not going to be the odd one out, am I?"
"I'm not sure who else would go into it wearing a summer dress specifically," Brent said, "But I'm fairly certain that not everyone who wears a swimsuit there will actually get in the water."
"It's like, you know, just a dress code sorta deal? But not really? ...hm, perhaps it's just for showing off? So not totes necessary, but hey, if ya got it, flaunt it."
Hair grew taut, started to snap as her fingers tangled themselves more eagerly. She most certainly did not have it to flaunt. A coat, clothes more suited for grabbing the eye, a regimen of putting herself together in front of the mirror in the hours before anyone woke--wasn't it all to cover the fact that no, she did not have it?
She kept smiling, felt it trying to falter and slip through her fingers like a name she was starting to lose.
"I guess that makes sense." The idea of heading to the party was starting to sound less and less appealing with each passing thought. Maybe she wouldn't be missed if she didn't make an appearance--she'd certainly managed to alienate herself from most of the people that might have cared, after all. You're not supposed to care. The Arbiter did her best to keep the casual, friendly tone. "I didn't think typical parties still had a dress code."
"Mob mentality," Brent replied, shrugging, "And Hollywood stereotypes. Beach parties probably take the form of guys with six-packs wearing speedos, while girls with hourglass figures wear bikinis. The common image, I guess."
But he noted that habit once more. Pulling. Nervous? Feeling the pressure of the situation? Or something deeper? An issue of self-esteem then? That sounded likely to people who wallowed in self-loathing, didn't it? Ah, he fucked up once more. Somehow, his friendship with Siena, this codependent relationship, had just transformed into a mountain full of landmines. No terrain. Just goddamn landmines.
Which meant he'd have to learn how to fly, huh?
"But," the arbiter continued, leaning forward on the stove, "y-"
A mistake. He leaned on the stove, one hand for stability while the induction stove was still hot.
"OH FUCK!"
"Shit."
Before she could think, Siena could feel her hand wrenching from its place, her body moving before her head registered the words. One hand already in her pocket, cellphone flicked on, sources already flickering by in rapid succession before a tap on a bookmark led her to a specific name, eyes darting down to view the words, the circle coming to life, crimson bleeding into grey until it took over entirely, the typical detachment accompanied it as the letters peeled from their place, settling onto her neck.
"Jesus, Brent." The words were quiet, the smile gone, a film of concern more real than she wanted it to be. "Let me see."
A wince. It was just a burn. He had been shot before and didn't cry out like that. He had a gun vaporize in his hand and didn't cry out like that. It was the surprise, really. It wasn't really the pain that caused it. Brent wasn't that weak, and the injury couldn't have been that bad.
"No, no, I'm fine, really."
"Yeah, right, I think I'll be the judge of that." Crimson eyes flicked up instinctively, locked for a moment onto amethyst ones before Siena remembered. Not hers. She flicked them away, focused instead on the hand. It was a different feeling, not having a route to take for manipulation. She used to reach for the injuries, held them still until someone showed up with medicine. After the mark, she'd stopped. They both had. "It won't hurt to let me see it."
"...alright."
Removing the hand from his chest, Brent brought it forward, doing his best to not show the pain that throbbed even now. Around the base of his thumb was red flesh, angry, skin burned off. It looked pretty bad after all, huh? But even at that point, the arbiter nodded.
"See? Not that bad."
"Do all males have to play tough?" She refrained from mentioning how easy it was to sense the pain with her mark on her side. How easy it was to imagine each furious throb, each numbing sting despite not actually feeling it. Instead, her eyes swept over the injury. Not life-threatening, of course, but still painful. She'd picked the wrong name to start, but it had been instinct. Usually, injuries weren't minor ones. "Well, for the time being, let me just..."
Carefully, she let herself mold the sensation that prickled at the corner of her consciousness, felt it like warmth that didn't belong to her. Leave sensation, take away pain. Such a tricky maneuver, even with all her practice. Little by little, the bookworm siphoned the pain away, left only the sensation--it was so much easier when there was nothing else to focus on. Just what she was good at. How many times had she done this before?
"It's not much for healing, so don't poke at it." And already Siena was tapping through the sources on her phone, seeking something that was better than what she was so familiar with. "'m sure I've got someone that can fix that in here."
That brought an unexpected laugh out of Brent. It was a manly, wasn't it, to hide pain and spurn treatment. But that wasn't it.
"No," the arbiter said, watching her eyes scan the injury dutifully, her own gaze siphoning away the pain until all that remained was a strange numbness, a void where the throbbing would be, "It's just something I do."
A mistake, but seeing this side of Siena, one that immediately sprang into action...dammit, he'll have to put his own best foot forward now. Keeping his hand palm-up, Brent waited for the continuation of her treatment, enamored by that focus tinged with desperation, set in with crimson.
"What a pretty telegraph."
There's the one. She'd never been much good at healing others, finding regenerative abilities bestowed on her own body to be more effective at removing injuries without issue. Of course, the ones that were capable of more never stuck around for long enough to fully heal a serious wound, but it wasn't as though she was trying to heal someone's arm from falling off. Well, as long as sh--
'H-Huh?'
Siena blinked once in surprise at Brent's comment, but didn't allow her focus to break for longer than that. Time for questions later. Instead, a faint, purple glow settled in its usual formation, a name she didn't like being able to pull settling in its place on her neck, the crimson from her right eye seeming to drain away into gold. Odd, Siena thought in the back of her head. This mark had grey eyes, but the eyes had always turned up gold. Skonos had been the first one to drag Siena into realizing how much it hurt to care more than she should have.
How bitterly fitting it was that of all the true healers in her collection, Siena had only ever settled comfortably into the one that couldn't fix herself.
With no time to spare on the thought, the girl had the second ability set to work, tapping into the ability of the flesh to mend itself. The work was slower than usual--no doubt a result of carrying Victor's name beside Sara's own--but it held steady under Siena's guide. Small injuries were easy. The only thing she really knew she could fix.
From crimson to gold, her eyes continued to shift and melt, a chameleon-esque transformation that was fascinating to behold. It really was hypnotizing, how much attention such an easily overlooked detail could draw once it was actually noticed. And, as that new 'power' took hold, he could feel it a bit more distinctively now. Fatigue building up from the rest of his body, his own energy drained to regenerate the tissue lost due to the injury. There was no doubt a proper way to do it, one that wouldn't leave a scar, but this bubbling of the flesh, this sewing of the skin, this was worth remembering.
Not that he could forget how gross that looked. In a way, he may have even preferred drinking Christmas's blood instead of watching this occur over the span of minutes.
But when the healing was done, leaving only a small red mark where his skin had initially made contact with the stove, Brent retracted his hand and marvelled at it. There was still that strange sensation of a phantom pain, as if his own mind couldn't comprehend that the wound disappeared so quickly, but the arbiter could deal with that easily enough.
"Thanks, 'ena."
There was more to be said, but he had already blurted out enough crap to last the day.
"I-it was nothing." Lie. Skonos had never been nothing, and though she'd been able to silence Victor's heart, it had not been so easy to do so with Sara. It left her drained in more aspects than one. Fatigue was easy enough to set aside, but everything else. Bitterness, frustration, betrayal, that damnable affection that couldn't attach itself to anything. Not hers.
She'd never liked healing.
And they were gone. First Skonos, then Victor almost immediately after, colors escaping from her eyes, leaving it with the usual, waiting grey. Left with what remained, Siena gave a small shrug of her shoulders, hid away what it would cost her later. "Being able to do anything isn't so great if you can't do something this minor."
If he blinked, he'd have missed it, so he didn't blink. It was another alluring shift of colors, crimson-gold transforming back into storm-gray as her power receded, Siena back to being...Siena. "But you can do something this minor, as well as a whole host of not-so-minor things," Brent smiled, "So you are pretty great after all. Infinite versatility and endless combinations."
A pause. This wasn't envy, not really. He made his peace with his own limitations some time back.
"Compared to just objects and all, yah know?"
"It's..." Not that great. Tiring. Draining. More pain than it was worth. "...only as useful as I can make it." A weak smile, a truth that managed to wrench free before she could stop it. "I think I'd probably be better with objects than names."
"Sounds like that applies to any power."
A longer pause. Digesting that fragment. A reveal that he already understood. She had shared such a sentiment before, hadn't she? Lost track of herself in the identities she took to rein in so many different powers. Must have thought that objects were so much similar. Unthinking and immobile. Clearly defined and utterly truthful. Black and whites instead of a gallery of grays.
"It's difficult in its own way," Brent replied, looking off to the side, "Sorry for making you use it though, considering how uncomfortable it seems for you."
"Hm? It was nothing." She reiterated the lie, knew that saying it out loud made it easier for her to believe. Carefully, she imitated the best attempt at a reassuring smile she could give. "You could hardly make me use it. If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have."
It was something. And that smile was something too close to his own. What, would she repeat it until it was real, and lose what she had before? Once again, Brent found himself on the edge. And once again, he recalled that night with Marcus, looking out by the balcony, unwilling to dig closer.
And once again, he pushed forwards, ever so slightly.
"Are you sure it was nothing?" Nothing but concern. Concern and an ugly, black doubt.
The inquiry was different. She didn't need any god-given or carefully cultivated prowess in reading people to be able to feel it. It was too precise, the question that she didn't have a real answer prepared for. Siena knew the best she could do was continue to offer platitudes about it. Certainly. It was nothing. Absolutely. All worthless answers. It brought it a surge of emotions that Siena hadn't been able to set aside, and her breath caught. Too many at once. All at once, a conflicting desire to detach and another to stay.
Was it a mistake?
"I'm sure." Liar. She tried to find an easier distraction. "It's not like you had me regrow your finger or anything."
Brent closed his eyes. This was just a blink. A reset. He opened them once more, and the reality of the situation didn't change at all.
"Alright," he found himself saying, no plans on diving further, "Just making sure. Real though, at that point, I may as well just crawl over to Sander and ask him if I could get some of Christmas's HP pots."
He found himself laughing as always, peals naturally proliferating. So mutual trust still only got so far, huh? They weren't close enough to share their traumas without turning to violence, and they weren't close enough to believe that the other would just accept a fault if it was exposed.
"Welp, I'll make sure never to burn myself with my own stupidity again, 'ena, even if it's no real problem for you."
Didn't mean he was going to fold though.
'He doesn't believe you.'I'm not blind.'Certainly not smart.'
"I don't suggest making it a regular thing, but people are allowed to make mistakes." Just not her...but she didn't count, and she never really had as far as her surroundings had gone. The expression faltered as Siena desperately pushed the brewing storm into its place. Things she could figure out later. "Besides, how else am I supposed to get easy practice healing?"
Something nearly broke. Cracks on the inside that tried to spread to the out. Not hers, she reminded herself.
"That's certainly one way to look at it," Brent laughed. The wrong way. Their powers didn't increase just through training and constant usage. His own limitations proved that a long time ago. "Doesn't mean I'll be coming to you for every cut and scrape though! Boys gotta be tough and all."
The cracks spread, and she knew she couldn't hold them much longer. If they managed to reach the mask--'It's over.' Siena smoothed the mask, did her best to hold every warring thought at bay. A fight or flight response took hold, a violent, icy grip that pierced into her. Shouldn't have taken both.
"I guess I should have expected as much from you." The words came out more stable than she'd expected--a boon, perhaps, from the usual hollow gouges that Victor left in his wake. "In any case, I should probably check if I actually have anything I can wear to a beach."
What the fuck kind of excuse was that?!
"Or if I can still fit in them after all that food." A poor distraction, but the cracks were spreading fast, and she needed to stop, ground herself. Her weight shifted back slightly as Sara's weight pushed down on her. Another hefty crack.
A sigh and a tired smile.
Yeah, go get 'em, 'ena. Willing to bet you'd look good in anything."
A dark doubt that rose in the back of the girl's head that she didn't voice in favor of an escape route. Her gaze turned away momentarily before the response came.
"U-Um, thanks for the vote of confidence." It was one more than usual. Siena flashed the last smile she could. Any longer, and she would be stuck sorting through everything out in the open. "I'll see you later, Brent."
βSienaβ¦ areβ¦ you okay? Do you need to talk?β Angel tentatively asked the Arbiter. Of course she wasnβt well, the Aberration could see that. She was more interested to know if there was anything she could do for her.
It had been a difficult night.
Between guilt over what had happened, the conversation with her father, the ensuing conversation with Marcus, and a harsh spiral of anxiety, hurt, and pain, Siena hadn't been able to sleep. For once, it wasn't the nightmares keeping her up--or perhaps it was just that the nightmares weren't the only things keeping her from rest. She'd tried to fill the time at first, tried her best to distract herself, but eventually, the brunette had no choice but to do what she'd been avoiding. Had he done it on purpose? The Arbiter didn't expect an answer. Not soon, if it ever came. It was a harsh realization that cut her like a serrated blade.
For the second time in almost as many days, Siena Santana had been forced to remember that she was still clinging to humanity enough to cry when hurt.
Did I eat last night...?
Anything to distract herself from the phone nestled in her pocket and the rare friendship that she'd decided wasn't worth as much as action. Wouldn't he be proud? The mage kept walking, kept willing herself to move so she couldn't sit and think like she always did. Ironic, isn't it? That you wish you were more Santana than Siena right now? No more thinking. She repeated the mantra to herself almost fervently, to drown out any other voice that tried to rise, and it worked. Unfortunately, it also meant that it had almost drowned out Angel's voice. Muted, distant, and quiet, but enough to stop the mental chant in an instant.
The sudden silence in her head was terrifying.
"H-Huh...?" A weary blink. What had Angel just said? The brunette tried to recall, tried to make out the words that had come to her as little more than a garbled question. No. There was no way she could make out what had been asked. "Sorry, I must not have been paying attention. Could you repeat that?"
βOh sorry, I mustβve been muttering.β A lie to try and cover up for her initial blunder, but it was convenient that she didnβt hear. βI was saying that you looked bored as hell. How about we get ourselves some fresh air outside? And by that, I mean take one of the cars and go about for some scenery driving. How does that sound?β
Angel had tried to look just about as enthusiastic and reassuring as she could manage her low morale to put on. Truth be told, she wanted to be left alone today, but seeing Siena like that, she sort of felt much obliged to try and at least help a friend who looked so demoralized.
No, it couldnt' have been a mutter, but Siena recognized the attempt of a smile. Can you fix this? Did she even want to? The brunette gave a weak smile and wondered whether she could even pass off a mask when her eyes were still sore, when her entire body felt weary and she could barely keep her thoughts from consuming her entirely. It would be a good distraction, Siena told herself. Going out, leaving, far away from the estate and the memories it evoked and the relationships she was certain she had trampled.
"That...sounds good." Even if it was just a moment's reprieve. "I don't think I've gone on a scenic drive in longer than I can remember." It wasn't a lie if she couldn't remember a scenic drive, was it? Her car rides were generally done in spacious vehicles with windows that barely allowed her to look out, only to places that had been carefully selected, on routes that were decidedly empty.
"Cool! Cβmon then, I was just about to leave. Unless you need a bit of time to prepare yourself?β
After entering the car and making sure both their seatbelts were buckled and the car was functional, the two girls left the estate towards the forest trail and onto the islandβs main road. It already felt good, to be away from the mansion. There was just this uneasy atmosphere over there that only made the raven-haired Aberration to leave and return for as late as possible.
When the road became clear ahead and it was only a straight line to wherever they were heading, Angel used the opportunity to slightly her window, feeling the ocean breeze washing in the car as she gazed upon the coastal scene slowly unfurl all around them. The silence felt a bit dreadful inside however. Both were clearly uncomfortable around each other.
βSoβ¦ have you ever driven a car before, Siena?β Angel asked out of the blue, her shades-veiled gaze focused on the road, but her mind half-focused on her passenger.
It might have been a wise idea to have brought some things, Siena realized, as she glanced at what Angel had prepared on her own. The thought was what she clung to for a distraction to push everything else aside. It filled her head, musing what might have been a better idea, what she wouldn't have brought to begin with. That, combined with the breeze brushing off the ocean, the smell of saltwater and a new view, was enough to push almost everything else into a quiet, dull buzz.
And another distraction pulled her in. The Arbiter glanced at the driver, her mind reeling.
"Oh, um...actually, no," Siena started. Best not to say anything that might lead to unwarranted expectations as far as that was concerned. The brunette gave a nervous smile, one tinged with a faint amount of embarrassment. "I never really had to before."
"Really? Girl, you are missing out on something." Angel grinned, remembering what it felt like to have her parents driver her around. It felt frustratring, perhaps a bit shameful too. βThe freedom to go as far as you want, whenever you want, without having to call on someone for it. Thatβs what I like most about driving and owning my own car.β
Angel paused as she smoothly brought about a slight turn to the right βEver felt like driving on your own before though?β
Through the haze of her exhaustion and the slurry of thoughts, Siena was able to make sense of the words. It pierced through like sharp beams of light, cutting through like hot butter. Freedom to go as far as she wanted, whenever she wanted. She doesn't know. It was a dream she had once had countless times before she'd had her abilities and even more times after. Flying away, teleporting away, leaving the gilded cage. A sweet dream that she had only a brief taste of before it was cruelly crushed. Time and time again.
But she couldn't show that, so she smiled.
"I wanted to, but I never had a chance. Apparently it was too dangerous or something."
Sounded like her caretakers protected Siena a bit too much. The dark-haired driver couldnβt fathom having herself be caught into what was better for her own safety. It felt too restrictive, too imprisoned.
The car steadily slowed down but kept a minimum amount of speed to keep going on the road. Angel looked at Siena with a mischievous grin. Now that the brunette was somehow βfreeβ, why not take advantage of that?
Idiots on the road...well, she supposed that was one way of viewing the danger. Siena knew better than to think that it was the main reason that she'd never learned to drive. They had looked at her with pitying expressions that lasted less than a fraction of a second, but she'd learned how to see those flashes by then. Still, Siena nodded in agreement as the car slowed, glancing over at Angel just in time to see the mischief on the older girl's face.
"U-Um, but I don't know the first thing about driving..." Even if every part of her wanted to do it. One moment behind the wheel, some kind of mock freedom that might be a substitute for the real thing. Her gaze drifted to the wheel, then to the open road, and she felt longing spring to life in her gut. "I'm not sure that'd be the safest idea..."
While Angel could not read that spark hidden underneath the mask Siena usually wears, she could hear the words that just called to the driver as βItβs not safe, but Iβm dying to try.β Maybe it was something that the young woman just wanted to hear, but sheβll be damned if it didnβt happen.
βGood thing youβll have the safest driver in Canada to show you the ropes then!β Angel managed to let out a quiet laugh at her exaggeration.
The car slowed down significantly, pulling up to the side as it came to a full stop. βNowβs the best time to learn, Siena. I mean, weβve got the whole road to ourselves. Trust me, I know. Havenβt seen a single soul on these roads ever since we arrived.β Angel turned off the engine and then opened her door.
βPlus, whatβs the worst that could happen? Drive over a pothole? Cβmon, letβs switch places!β the enthusiastic black-haired musician remarked as she left the car, heading over Sienaβs side.
"O-Oh, um..." Well, there were worse things that could happen, given Siena's complete lack of experience, but if Angel was right about the lack of people, then maybe, just for a bit, it would be fine. The thirst for knowledge ached like a hollow pain in her torso, and Siena couldn't help but relent. "A-Alright..."
Stepping out to make the switch herself, the brunette glanced at the controls, wondered briefly whether it would have been wiser to have a name drawn in case she needed it. Are you sure about that, little Harker? The girl decided against it. There was no point in learning if she didn't walk away with the experience in the end. That said... "Um...s-so what do I do now...?"
"Oh right. First, take the ignition key and bring it all the way forward for a second until you hear the engine start. If you just bring it slightly forward, it'll only open up the electric supply for the car."
Then Angel proceded to explain the girl about the three pedals underneath her, one being the acceleration, the middle one being the brakes, the the far left being the clutch. After making sure the girl understood the principles of the pedals, she explained her how to make sure she was set and comfortable for driving. From bringing her seat forward so her feet could touch the pedals easily to the rearview mirrors properly showing the unseen angles. When the basics were over with, all that was left to do was to show her the actual driving part.
"Just put slight pressure on the gas pedal. We'll start slowly, then I'll show you about the gear shift."
The explanations had been clear, but hearing something, imagining something, and actually doing it were vastly differing experiences, as Siena had learned. How slight was slight pressure? Her mind tried to quantify it, couldn't quite do it, and the faint pressure she put on the pedal did little to start the car from moving. Realizing that she'd vastly underestimated slight, Siena tried to increase the pressure.
The second time was too much. The car lurched forward with a sudden jerk. Siena recoiled her foot off the pedal entirely in surprise.
"Wh-whoa, s-sorry!" Wearing an embarrassed grimace, the girl wondered if this really was the wisest choice. So something between force A and force B--gods, she hoped that judging that pressure would get easier.
Holy shit!
Luckily, Angel had her seatbelt one, or else she felt like she was going to get an accident real soon with the girl on board. the older woman let out a deep sigh out. "God... that took me by surprise. Yeah, no worry, beginner's mistake. It's hard to gauge pressure when you're new at this. You'll see later when you'll have to maintain a steady speed. It's easy to lose your footing and accidentally end speeding up gradually faster without even noticing."
"Try again. Smooth, but don't put your weight all at once. Do it gradually." It took some time and a few tries before Siena managed to get the hang of the steering, some extra time going into learning the few extra steps for the--what was it? The Hellcat?--current vehicle compared to more common ones. Eventually, going down the road was smoother, her speed not quite consistent, but at least the car didn't jerk as it had at the start. The brunette felt herself more at ease with the road empty and lacking in any major turns.
She tried to piece together the start of a conversation, but her mind kept cycling back to the events of DC, then to the last attempt to talk about said events. Her back ached at the memory, a faint sense of relief at wearing more cover to hide the fact that she hadn't succeeded in clearing off every bruise from the tapestry of her skin. That would have been difficult to explain.
"Um..." Think of something. Anything. "Y-you know, I don't think I've ever seen you without sunglasses."
A moment of silence passed by quickly as Angel was less focused on discussing and more on watching the road ahead. Usually she'd talk a lot while being a passenger, but she felt somewhat dutiful and on guard. When Siena's question came, it came a bit out ass a surprise to the black-haired woman.
"Oh? Yeah, I really never told anyone about this, I guess. I have sight problems. A rare case of myopia and photophobia combined. Or short-sightedness and light sensitivity, if you will." Angel explained, looking a little bit dismayed. "Old optometrist gave me a special pair of shades that would correct both problems at once, since I hate contacts, but then you'd figure with everything happening to us, they broke down quite easily. So I consulted the eye doctor at the Institute, he convinced me to wear contacts so at least I won't see blurry if my sunglasses ever broke again. As for the shades, well they are mostly there to keep my eyes from burning in pain."
Ah...the possibility of light sensitivity had lingered somewhere in the back of Siena's mind, but it had never been more than a passing thought. Keeping her eyes on the road, the Arbiter gave a small nod of understanding at the explanation, accepting it as it was.
"They certainly match your aesthetic," the Arbiter started. Not a lie. "Though...it seems a little dangerous to have them in our situation. Maybe USARILN can get you something sturdier when we're out."
Angel looked thoughtful for a moment. She did indeed consider the possibility of asking for something sturdier, seeing that there was no point to wearing shades if they kept breaking. "You're right. I was thinking that as well, seeing there probably wasn't a single battle I managed to get out from with them intact." A small pause of discomfort as she was brought back to Washington, if only briefly. "Perhaps I should ask if they can come up with transition contacts. Hell might as well give me a welding mask while we're at it." she forced a chuckle out. "If we ever return to the Institute... It's been a while, isn't it?"
A long pause as Siena considered the end of the sentence.
"...it has." Two words that were just a bit weary despite how exceedingly worn Siena really felt. "I really thought we'd be spending more time at the school when we showed up there..."
"A little bit, yeah." Grateful for the fact that she had to focus on the road, Siena wondered why they were such a special case. Why they were being sent out instead of students more experienced. Being sent out was not what she had envisioned when she had surrendered herself. She expected a place where she couldn't hurt anyone with her abilities, not somewhere that would send her to where she could hurt more people. "Even if it's not quite what I thought it woud be."
"I don't think anyone here could've expected what our lives are going to be like at USARILN. Even less being part of some sort of special battle unit."
"No, I suppose not." And she certainly hadn't expected being a special battle unit to be an option to begin with--maybe Gerwulf had been right. Preparations had probably been what kept her alive. Just in case. Memories of a slow step by step guide on how to make her small frame more effective in a fight--it dawned on her then that said movements would only ever work on things that looked like humans. She pushed the thought out of mind. Pushed Gerwulf as far away from her as she could. "Don't think I ever saw myself using powers for combat."
Never thought I'd use my powers to kill a crowd again...
Angel only nodded solemnly to Siena's statement. There sure was a lot of shit she hadn't been expecting to happen. So much near deaths, battles, fellow classmates dying, even more deaths. Really, ever since Angel was taken in by USARILN, she turned into such a wreck. She could barely recognize herself in the mirror, even herself as a whole when comparing to just a few months ago.
Her mind was sent adrift onto the road once more, keeping silent as she reflected on the events that happened as a 'student' of this Subnatural institute.
No reply, just a silence that Siena could only take wild stabs at reading when she couldn't turn to look at the expression. She didn't entirely enjoy not being able to observe, and Siena realized then why Maya had been adamantly against Siena's learning to drive. Watching the road meant not being able to watch the people aroud her--etiquette and appearances aside, it wasn't something that any Santana should have done.
She didn't want to think about it.
"I think the only expectation I had was that I'd be seeing more subnaturals though." More people too, but she didn't quite want to group the two categories together. "Don't think I'll ever get used to it."
"Yeah... but that's our reality now. Might as well try to get used the people we will be with for as long as we remain under USARILN's watch."
'You say that so lightly.'
Unwelcome thoughts of her conversation with Marcus the night before, thoughts of being honest and bruises scattered across her like a painting. Getting used to the people that they'd be around while under careful watch wasn't something that Siena would have been able to do lightly.
There was a moment of unease seetling in. Uncomfortable silence.
"Siena... I have something to tell you," Angel's tone took on a graver note. "I'm... sorry for what happened a few days ago. I though of protecting everyone... but I made a stupid decision... and it ended up like this."
The words struck like a heavy bag of bricks, and if Siena hadn't been prepared for the possibility, if she hadn't tightened her grip slightly on the wheel, tensed herself at the thought, things might have gone badly. At least there was some semblance of control in place. The brunette made certain to keep her foot at the most constant pressure she could muster. Not Harker, Santana.
"Everyone made mistakes." And Siena could feel her own piling down harder each day. "I don't think I'm the one that needs an apology." Because she didn't. Her mistakes had been countless. So many things that could have gone differently--they'd picked the wrong people to protect.
"Perhaps... but then again, if I hadn't screamed first, if I had tried to find a more peaceful solution, maybe ask you guys to shift your priorities to personnal defense until it dies down... we probably wouldn't have had to defend ourselves from them like that."
She was remorseful for everything that had sparked for one single scream. A scream that seemed to have carried more impact and destroyed everything than her repetitive message sent to save to civilians had.
"They probably would've never attacked us if I didn't start. That's... why I feel like I should apologize to everyone. Our lives are so difficult to deal with... I just piled up more problems on our shoulders. I'm... sorry for that."
Did she think apologizing and taking the blame would have fixed anything? Siena wondered, briefly, if that was how most people felt. Apologize a thousand times to the wrong person for the wrong reasons, and the forgiveness would be enough?
Screams. People had been under the cars when they fell.
Apologies for the wrong thing.
"Maybe it's not my place to say this," Siena started, knowing that it wasn't. "But will getting forgiveness from me really fix anything for you?"
"No. If you think I'm looking for forgiveness, you're wong. No mtter how much I regret it, that I feel sorry for the people who died and for their families, and for what you guys had to go through during that moment, it still has been and will be a horrible choice. I can't blame anyone for hating me after what I did. Hell, the whole world could hate me for that, if they actually knew instead of those fake-ass news proclaiming me as some sort of fucking "redeeming criminal" crap. I deserve to be hated. I don't deserve forgiveness or love."
"But I still feel the need to apologize to you, because I fucked everyone up over and I want you to know I didn't mean to. That won't bring anyone back, but I guess I just want people to know that I'm not a cold-hearted bitch who doesn't regret her decisions. I do, but I can't do anything but make sure it won't happen a second time.
It was strangely easier to talk about her feelings to Siena than everyone else so far. Perhaps it was because Siena was the actual first person she spoke of it that was on her team back then. Ernest, Brent, Allison... they couldn't know how it was. They haven't been there, and it's not like neither of them had to power to outright kill someone if they lost control or had a Stigma like hers to deal with.
It seemed so...contradictory, and something in the pit of Siena's stomach flared to life. A weak, quiet flicker that didn't have enough strength to become a blaze. Didn't want to be a redeeming criminal, didn't care if the world hated her--if that was true, then why bother apologizing? Why apologize to peers that might look for any reason to forgive if she deserved to be hated? The brunette felt her grip tighten on the wheel, and wondered if it was a good thing that there was nothing left in her to burn.
"I suppose that's reason enough to find an apology." Even if Siena couldn't take much heart in it. Her focus remained on the road, attention on the fact that she was driving to keep her distracted. "But in that case, you're not the only one that needs to apologize."
There was a sligh sense of relief washing over Angel when Siena seemed to have confirmed her will to apologize. She didn't need forgiveness, but she still wanted to be on good terms with anyone. But there was guilt rearing its ugly head for every bit of relief she had. Moreso when Siena said that. "I... don't... think..." she had no idea what to say. She knew she was in the wrong, but a lot of people on her team were just as responsible for actually delivering the killing blows. Angel never wanted to admit it to herself though. They wouldn't have to do this if she didn't start the fight.
"You don't think what?" The words were oddly calm. "Maybe the scream started everything, but everyone made their choices. Whether someone opened fire or held it, that was their decision. By that reasoning, we all brought ruin on ourselves." Her grip tightened around the wheel, knuckles starting to show white. "Regardless of whether opening fire was intentional, we have ourselves to blame."
"Maybe... but you wouldn't have had to make that choice if it didn't happened." Angel repeated, remaining convinced that she was to blame foremost for the mishaps of her team. Their failure was her failure.
"But it did, and it's too easy to blame it all on one person. We were supposed to help them, and we didn't." Even if she didn't know what might have changed without the shout. Even if someone tried to shift the blame for the people that Siena herself had killed, she hadn't done anything to stop the situation from getting worse. Hadn't done anything, despite having everything at her disposal, to stop her peers. Nobody had. "It's too easy to blame someone else for our own bad decisions. If nobody blames themselves, then nobody will learn, and it will happen again."
"They've heard what happened from the cuffs. They think I've been the one who killed almost everyone. I don't want you, Lily or Kusari to be treated the same way I had been ever since I came back..."
A pause. They hadn't been there that long. More than that, their company was little more than their peers. The brunette flicked a glance toward the older girl before returning her attention to the road.
"You say that as though it's literal." Carefully chosen words. "Something happened?"
"Nothing I'm not used to.
Not a complete lie, considering her whole life she had to deal with criticism about the way her music sounded or how she was dressed, but never insulted with such intensity.
It didn't take an expert to hear something to piece together the partial answer. Nothing she wasn't used to--something vague, but still complete enough to neatly sweep away the refuse where it couldn't be seen. Of course Siena would have recognized it, given how often she did it herself when the truth wasn't welcome, but it was easier not to lie. Part of her wanted to press further, but there was no kindling left. Nothing for the embers to reignite.
"I see." Two words that were easy to say. A neat little phrase that could say everything or nothing. Her mind wandered back a night, how she had told Marcus that he stood for more than what he was. How it was true for all of them if she thought about it. How frustrating it was that Angel didn't seem to understand it despite her apparent past on the stage, and how little Siena understood why. She had no choice but to silence them all, put everything into another neat litle phrase. "I suppose that makes sense."
Back into the garage, when both left the car, Angel remained next to the vehicle, waving to yet another newly-made pupil. Funny how she was teaching a lot of her fellow classmates about some things. "You did good today, Siena. You've got a knack for driving. Maybe I should ask you more often to drive me around." the raven-haired metalhead chuckled as she opened the door to the driver's seat.
"Take good care of yourself now." Angel said to the brunette before driving off the garage, this time going for a ride alone.
Chris had started to walk down the hallway of the estate with a hint of nervousness. He was dressed in his prefered casual wear of his heavy blue coat, white shirt, and dark blue jeans. Though the warm clothing didn't seem ideal for the present climate, Chris preffered the additional heat his clothes gave him. Today was the day he'd talk to Siena again, in person. Thanks to Brent and Ernie's little 'chat' he no longer feared that Siena was ignoring his letter as it was revealed Brent had done away with it, the bastard.
Still, that resolve didn't hide his faint dread. It was already painfully obvious he has terrible people skills, let alone good at keeping friends around; But after the events of D.C. he was worried the stress might make his coming situation worse. Though, he still worried of her well-being, and because he never got to visit her in the hospital bed he felt obligated to visit her now.
There was a pause when he reached Siena door. He had picked out some crummy flower from the yard earlier today to present to her, though the dandelion he held in his hand is more considered a weed then a flowering plant. After a sigh that established his final decision, he gave three knocks to her door.
She hadn't slept, grey irises seeming almost dull in the wake of pink-tinged sclera. Siena watched her phone with said bloodshot eyes, as if expecting it to go off again--no, she knew it would eventually. Something that felt dimly like pain in the back of her head alerted Siena to the fact that she had probably been up for too long. A twinge of faint irritation at herself for pointing out the obvious that was harder to quell than it should have been. The mage gave a soft breath, closing her eyes against the light.
'Temper, temper, Siena.'
Shut up.
'You already knew, why are you even surprised that--'
Shut. Up.
The girl felt her fingers dig into her skin, nails scraping against the surface hard enough to make parts of it peel, pale flesh flaring pink at the irritation, and though the rational part of her chided her. Stop before you hurt yourself. But wasn't it the pain that grounded her? That reminded her that she was still her and not some visitor in her body? Her nails dug deeper, leaving crescent shaped depressions. She wasn't surprised, but that didn't mean it didn't leave a deep cut. Rat bastard.'You don't mean that.' No, she didn't, but there wasn't a fiber in her body that didn't wish that she did.
The thoughts were loud enough that she almost didn't hear the sound of the knock at her door. For a long moment, the brunette considered ignoring it to let herself stew in the frustrations she wouldn't be able to express with anyone else around. Her mind went back to the night before, and a sardonic smile wormed its way to her lips. Well, she'd certainly managed to express them then hadn't she?
By the time the mage answered her door, she'd already placed the demure, quiet mask of a girl in over her head back into place. Nobody would believe it anymore, but it was easier than trying to go out with the storm that threatened to break free completely unleashed. She cracked the door open to see her visitor, prepared to shut it again if necessary, but found Chris at the entrance, sporting a heavy coat despite the weather and something that was probably a flower in hand--it was harder to tell when all she could see from her vantage point was a trail of green.
'Don't you want to shut the door?' Mocked the snide little voice in her head. Siena pushed the thought as far as she could before cautiously opening the door, only a faint level of confusion showing on her face. Exactly what she allowed. "O-Oh, Chris. Did you need something...?"
"O-oh um..." He paused for a moment. Whatever confidence he had worn today was starting to wear now he was infront of Siena for the first time in a little while. "A-are you busy or something? I-I could come back some other time if its too much trouble for you right now." He started to avoid eye contact to try to mask his dissolving confidence; His head had turned to the hallway and he adjusted the hood of his coat further up his head as if that could hide him from her.
'Even someone that can turn into a dragon won't look you in the eye.'
Stop it.
"N-No, I'm not really busy with anything." True. Sort of. "I probably don't look too great right now though."
There was a sigh to her responsive, mostly of relief. At this point his anxiety was starting to die down a bit in favor of a more apathetic 'just get this over with' motivation, still lacking much optimism. "I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk with me today, around the property or something....Maybe do something cool if we come across anything." He returned his gaze back to her.
Something about it was off, and Siena wished for a moment that she couldn't read faces. Couldn't force herself to dig and feel the way that she wanted after countless hours of being taught exactly how to do it because she could barely deal with her own emotional turmoil, and it was too damn hard to ignore someone else's when it was a perfect distraction from what she didn't want to face. The brunette gave a weak smile. Something was wrong.
An uncomfortable memory tried to surface, and Siena drowned it with any other emotion that was able to overpower the unease.
"That...that sounds nice." Not really. "Um...let me get my jacket before we go. Just in case."
Your room is a mess. Don't let him in.
"I'll be right back."
He nodded and stepped away from the door and to the wall to avoid being rude. While he had been leaning against the wall, and looking down the hallway, he felt reliefed. Here he was expecting outright rejection but everything seemed fine for now at least, though admittedly she did seem a tad bit distraught.
Once she accompanied him past the hallway and later outside the manor, Chris broke the silence. "So, how are you holding up? I don't know all the details that happened to everyone but I know we've all been through some shit in that D.C. event..." He interrupted himself. "I-I don't mean that be rude, you don't have to tell me-I'm just...concerned is all..I feel bad for not visiting you when you were hospitalized..."
Fresh air was good for her, or so Siena kept telling herself as she walked with Chris. Her mind was still reeling, still full of unwelcome thoughts, memories, emotions she didn't want to feel. A surge of something that might have been relief rose as soon as Chris broke the silence, only to be replaced by an avalanche of conflicting emotions. Guilt, pain, betrayal, back to guilt again. A simmering rage that burned faintly beneath the surface that Siena kept trying to detach and couldn't. She didn't voice anything, didn't let her emotions get in the way as she painted on the weary mask.
"You don't have to worry about me." Because she didn't count. "I wasn't really that hurt at the hospital." Just a coward that couldn't leave. An echo of panic fired through her like a sharp jolt of electricity. "I can't say that everything is fine, but...I'll figure out how to cope." Or else.
There was a short pause before Chris put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't like being brash or anything but considering what happened..I..well..Just want to let you know that no matter what happens out there I will always stay at your side" There was another self-interruption. "Unless if you don't want me too..I don't want to force anything on you."
Don't touch.
Siena forced herself not to flinch at the hand on her shoulder, forced herself to stay calm when fear threatened to bubble up, refining her reaction to little more than a faint tense that passed through her before she could fully register it. The brunette paused to glance at the boy, and again the unsettling sensation crept over her like a slow burning fire. Back to the training day, when there was something that lingered beyond the primitive instinct. That faint, faint feeling that had mortified her. Always at her side.
Bullshit.
"That's a bold offer for someone you've only known a few weeks."
"I'm aware." He paused to look at the ground, and had removed his hand from her. "I guess all this stress makes it hard to think straight...That and.." There was a longer pause. He didn't finish his sentence, he just looked towards the trees at his left, a long stare. In that moment Chris thought he saw the wooden fort he and his hometown friends would play around, the day before that joy was taken from him; he even imagined his younger self sitting infront of the fort, starting back at him with cold and distant eyes as if the child was staring at a monster.
He shook his head and attempted to finish his train of thought. "No its nothing.."
So that was it. Stress. A pang of something in between relief and hurt shot through Siena's chest, but it smoothed into the mask before it could properly form into anything on the exterior. This was what she was good at, pretending she didn't see the things that she did. Pretending, for all it was worth, to be that stupid, blind girl. 'You're more useful this way.' Instead, the brunette gave a distant smile. One that she put on too often since arriving at USARILN when she looked into the mirror before the sun rose trying to convince herself that she was fine.
"I don't think you can bring up stress and then brush off the rest of the thought as nothing and still be convincing, Chris."
There was a shudder. Her words broke through his cloak like a piercing wind of frost. Perhaps that may have been neccessay, he couldn't hide that feeling from her forever, but at the same time he wasn't comfortable just telling her that. There was a pause as he tried to make up his mind. If he was to keep himself from being alone again he had to open up more, just enough to perhaps show some level of trust at least. Another sigh escaped his lips. "Before I came to Usariln I've been..well...We all have had some terrible shit in our pasts, I'm nothing special but..my experience has made me rather...cold, unwilling to want to associate myself with others; Thats how I felt when I first came here too..until..Until I met you at the library...I don't know why or how, something about you just clicked I guess..." Another sigh. "I don't want to burden you or expect you to feel the same way or anything, infact I think I've been dreading to tell you this out of fear of rejection, but there isn't any point of letting this drag on..I..I have feelings for you is all." There was a huge sense of relief as the words came out, one of the many things he had been bottling up now rested easy and out of him. It wasn't a secret he had to guard on his conscience anymore.
Siena knew it was coming, had done her best to brace herself, but it didn't stop the revelation from hitting her like a sack of bricks. Her mind clicked, whirred, tried to figure out what the best course of action was, and failed to come to any conclusion. All those years alone with people that were supposed to prepare her for anything, and she didn't have a proper response to this. Or so she wanted to tell herself. Siena faltered, cracks forming in the mask. Apprehension, concern, a twinge of fear. Another distant twinge of...she didn't know what it was.
"I...I'm flattered that you think you have feelings for me." What was she saying? No, no, no, stop. Stop. Stop. But the dam had broken, and trying to stymie the flow did nothing in the wake of things. "And I understand how you would come to that conclusion. Better than you might imagine." And here, the mask crumbled a little more. A quiet, distant hurt that pierced through for a moment as her voice lowered. Still gentle, still cautious. "But I think what you have is an infatuation. Maybe I was the first person that was agreeable, or maybe there are some other reasons, but..." But it wasn't anything as tumultuous as feelings, was it? She knew what that felt like, knew how much it tore one inside out. Left a gaping hole to try and cauterize with anything available. "But speaking from experience, I honestly...I hope you don't have anything as sincere as feelings toward me."
It was difficult for Chris to register her response, or rather, he had no experience with it anyway. He simply remained silent, with his hands in his pockets as he walked forward. When she was finished it took him some time to speak up again. "..Maybe it was stupid of me to tell you." He muttered to himself as he looked to the dirt. To her credit, her admittance to expercing a similar emotion was at least trusting, in a way. Even if things didn't go the way he wanted, he at least got that confession out of his chest. "I don't think its mere infatuation...Well, either way..I got that off my chest....." There was another pause. "I just..wanted to let you know that before anything worse happens."
'You're hurting him.' She had to. 'There are better ways to go about this.' No, there weren't. There weren't. She had to believe that. 'When are you going to stop lying to yourself?' She had to be strong. She was a monster in the plainest sense of the word--no, worse. She was the type that still tried to pass for human, wasn't she? The girl let the boy finish, had to stomp out her guilt. There were so very few that might be willing to stand by her after everything that had happened, but this was the kinder option. Right?
Why didn't she feel as certain as she did when she started?
"It's better that you don't feel anything more." She was quiet, far quieter than she meant to be. Her voice wasn't as steady as she wanted, a quiet, careful tune that betrayed more than if she'd just kept up the act. Siena averted her gaze, kept them on the ground. "Anything more than an infatuation is...painful." No. "More than painful. It's agonizing, wanting to be with someone even when you can't, or when they don't feel anything back, or when you can't even figure out who you're supposed to--" Stop. Siena did that time. That was a step too close. She quieted herself again, couldn't stop the pain and guilt from seeping into her voice. "...I don't want to be the reason that anyone feels like that."
"I've dealt with anguish all my life, so that is nothing new for me. It was hard enough to keep that information from you...I'm not one to be cheesey or poetic but I think you're worth that kind of trouble..."He paused. "Don't worry about me or how I feel, you should live for what you feel, I guess...If you don't know how you feel about something time will give you the answer. Just, don't take my confession as some kind of burden, I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me; you especially." He looked forward with eyes straight. There was some pain to be felt, sure, but he still felt 'numb' from that relief of this affection still.
How can he be so sure of himself?
Didn't she already know the answer to that? Siena felt something else try to crack, but she didn't let it. He thought she was worth the trouble. Who the hell was the feeling of a chest being torn open, the heart left bare for the vultured to pick at until there was nothing left? Siena couldn't help but remember the first time she'd pulled someone whose heart had been run through and left to die. How much it hurt, how much she wanted someone, anyone to pin the emotion to. Pain, devotion, something that the Arbiter could only define as love, and all of it not worth the few moments of power that she'd gained from it.
"You're a better person than me," Siena murmured softly. Chris was more...direct, she supposed. That wasn't a bad thing. Softer than she first thought, maybe, but...she didn't see any tells. Nothing to say that he was lying about anything. Muting something, maybe, but lies? No, she didn't see any. That was a rarity in and of itself where the girl came from. A cautious, weak smile. Apologetic and weary. Because she didn't think she could believe him--no, because she knew she didn't. People didn't act like that, much less subnaturals. Because he might have been telling the truth at that moment, but when a twinge of remorse turned to pain, when pain turned to torment, it wouldn't be the same emotion in the end.
She knew that much.
"I'm glad you told me. It's...nice to think that someone cares."
Even if it was all a distant lie.
He shook is head. "I'm not better then you." He muttered back. There was another pause. "We should talk about something else, I don't want to press this subject any further as I doubt either of us are comfortable...Besides I don't want that to spoil our friendship anyway." He said before coming to a stop. "Any ideas on passing the time?"
A pause as Siena considered the thought. Right. It was easier to numb everything than it was to confront it, wasn't it? So she played along, just like she was supposed to. The girl twisted a few locks of hair between her fingers, eyes darting out over the estate. "I haven't really done much exploring since we got here, so um...I guess I don't really have any." Didn't that sound familiar? Despite it all, the bookish mage gave a faint laugh. "A little bit like the time back at school, really."
Chris returned a light smile before he had started to think. He stepped away and infront of her, and turned a 180 so that he was facing her directly. "Well there is a beach we could walk over to, admire the view I guess. " He shrugged. Today may have not been the best to have this interaction, but he was glad he had gotten it over with anyway.
"Oh, that's right. We probably won't have a chance to walk a beach back at school." It wasn't really a school so much as a base, she supposed. Siena did her best to push the thought away, to fill the space with something, even if it was meaningless. "It'll be a new experience. I've never been to one before."
"Neither have I, I believe its this way." He walked onward towards the beach.
Once arriving, Chris walked across the hot sand and decided to dip in his toe into the salty water. It was cold, so cold that it caused him to shake in a visable shiver and step away from the cruel water and back onto the warm hot sand. He was always a bit sensitive when it came to cold weather but his status as a subnatural never helped that little detail either. The chill reminded him of when he was frozen and almost died from that giant ice creature in the sky; a grim reminder that he didn't want to acknowledge.
Under other circumstances, or maybe even a week before, the beach might have been nice. The feeling of sand wedging itself between her foot and her shoe wasn't entirely unpleasant, nor was the faint breeze with the soft aroma of the sea, but all the pleasantries felt hollow. Watching Chris as he moved to the water, Siena stayed back, her gaze drifting from her companion to the distance beyond. A sea. Something she recognized, but not from the usual experiences. Part of her wondered how it would feel to be lost in it the same way as in the visions. Would she be at peace? Or would it be a storm?
She smiled instead.
"Not a big fan of the water?"
"Not when its freezing." He replied, though appreciated her humor. Her very voice broke that sense of dread he had felt. "Still...Nice view, the water looks like its sparkling with all the waves rising in the sunlight." He commented as he sat near her on the sand, knees up with his arms crossed over them. "I wonder how well my dragon form can swim?" He pondered to himself out loud.
"I don't know if you want to try that in freezing water." Though the curiosity had piqued as well. She tried not to think about the previous conversation, didn't want to be reminded of the pain. Easier to numb herself. "Though you could probably use your wings as sails if you tried." Didn't want to acknowledge that she was probably hurting more than helping. He didn't know.
"Hmm, maybe." He pondered for a moment, then a slight chuckle. "Sorry this must be a bit weird with the romantic view and everything." He closed his eyes as he continued to face the ocean. "...I mean..well..I don't want to be a bother to you is all."
If Chris had been looking in Siena's direction, he might have noticed the instant that the mask faded. When her expression contorted briefly. First in guilt, then in something that might have been pain. A vague shadow of an emotion she felt too many times before. Something lost. A new experience that you wanted to rip out of yourself. But she molded it back into that semless facade, filled in the cracks. "It's...it's not a bother." Liar...but she wasn't good at saying things that gave away weaknesses, was she? Didn't like exposing any of her emotions when she could avoid it.
And panic isn't a display of that?
"I don't think I can really identify a romantic view from a normal one, so I should be the one apologizing."
"Apologizing?" He shook his head. "No don't apologize for something you didn't do."
"Sorr--oops! It must be a bad habit." That was too hard a thing to do. There were countless things that she had to apologize for not doing. He doesn't know. Siena gave a weary smile of reassurance in return to the statement, a perfect simulation of what she'd seen and done before, even if she felt hollow while doing it. So many things to apologize for.
For not being able to stop the slaughter. For not holding up the cars. For not being able to save more people in the building. For not telling him why she couldn't do it or how everything felt when it came to her. For refusing to acknowledge either of them as humans.
But she kept the reassuring expression up, and despite the companionship, she felt her walls go up. All the better to isolate her so she couldn't hurt anyone like the monster she was.
There was a short pause. Perhaps it was just him overlooking her habit, but for a small moment he felt like he could feel something that he was far too familiar with. The very darkness that he had been consumed by for all those damned years. It wasn't foolish to think everyone had their own version of it, especially with the nature of their existence, but this was the first he actually acknowledged the thought in full awareness that someone else was feeling that dread. The events in DC was a reminder of how shit the world was right now, the casualties of that fight over innocent lives reminded him of the loss of his hometown. Sure enough, he couldn't have been the only one to suffer from that.
Chris's expression had slowly shifted from his casual demeanor to something of serious and grim. "...Don't let your burdens weigh you down while you have time to enjoy yourself. Don't listen to whatever the people on the outside think of subnaturals...." There was a pause as he wasn't sure if he should continue. "Most of us probably will live short lives if this keeps up...I'm one to talk as I still feel..." He suddenly felt like he had been carried away with his statement, perhaps he said too much. There was a moment of pause for him to regain his composure and change the direction of his words. "Just don't beat yourself up too much, okay?"
Had she let it show? Siena was surprised to see Chris wear an expression so grim. It felt out of place with what she knew, and another red flag rose in the back of her head. Was she wrong again? More memories that were lying to her, trying to craft some fascimile of the lives that she borrowed? No...no, he hadn't been different earlier, hadn't behaved in ways that were entirely unexpected beyond a startling show of unshakable loyalty. Was that the word she'd use?
But it was the words that struck home. Of course, Siena understood that everyone had their own burdens--her problems, not theirs--but she had already come to terms with the fact that she wouldn't be sharing hers with anyone else. Not everything, at least. Not the girl whose hair was the color of fresh hay, whose magic felt like warmth and light. Not the faceless blurs she didn't quite remember the names of. She wondered, briefly, if that unshakable loyalty that had startled her could be broken. If she wanted to do it. If she should.
"I...I appreciate the sentiment." A spark of hesitation. No. She was willing to do this. The smile fractured, held a broken sentiment, held a wounded child that meant nothing to the world. "But I can't help but think that those people are right about most of us."
"And so what if they are right? Thats the reality we live in, we have to carve ourselves a place in this world amidst all this chaos, be it heroes or villains." There was another pause, his eyes were closed as he didn't like to face his own apathy like this. "Were all that we have left. I really meant it when I said I'd stay by your side regardless of what happens, not just because of my affection, but because you, me, and the rest of the subnaturals that haven't gone rogue are by ourselves against the world." There was another pause, unsure if he should continue. "Though I will admit that loyalty comes from the waning respect I have for the rest of the students here, I don't want to admit that but..." He shook his head. "Not disrespect but..lack of trust, I suppose. I don't think they acknowledge whats been going on with our situation...then again maybe they choose not to, and I don't fault them for that." Chris turned his head to the side of the sand, further away from Siena. "Sorry, this conversation has gotten me moody is all..sorry if that was a little dark."
He doesn't understand.
'How can he when you don't bother to share?'
"It's fine." Because moodiness was nothing new. Because Siena understood that for all the rough edges that he displayed, the words were apathetic. That there was any loyalty to have, regardless of trust, regardless of respect...but it was best to keep that silent. He didn't understand yet. He didn't have to yet.
Would he still be this loyal if he knew what she'd done?
"The topic wasn't exactly the brightest." An excuse. A justification. Why trust her? It was a bad idea. She quieted the words, replaced that truth with something else. A lie? A partial truth? An observation? She couldn't quite identify it before she spoke again. "But considering that view, you must be braver than you give yourself credit for. You say you don't trust the others, but you're still willing to fight for them. Or with them. However you want to view that." Quickly, she adopted a weak smile. Another perfect imitation of something she'd seen before. "So maybe it's not such a dark topic."
Bravery? He was brave? Chris shook his head at the thought with a light chuckle laced with grim humor. Thats not what the others thought of him. "Brave? No, I'm not brave. Damn it all if I am, anyone asked so far I know here will tell you the opposite. I fight for us because there is nothing else to fight for, and for some goddamned reason despite how foolish and embarrassing I've been in and out of combat I still haven't died yet. Some twisted luck I have, Sometimes I wonder why I can't just drop dead already.." His once attempt at humor fading into a melancholy muttering. He wondered for a moment if he should distance himself from her too, she could just end up like all the others, maybe she would be better off if she avoided him instead.
It would have been selfish of him to keep her even as a friend when thus far everyone that has been close to him perishes. With everything thats been happening in his life, he was starting to truly believe he was cursed, and that very conversation reminded him of why he was so scared when he first came to Usariln. Not of his own death, but the death that followed him.
Why he couldn't drop dead. Such a sad sentiment, even by Siena's standards. A soft breath, and she traced her gaze over Chris, over to the sea. It was comforting, almost, to be near someone that was upfront about their emotions. She didn't have to dig, didn't have to watch for the faintest flickers of change, didn't have to pluck at strings that he probably wasn't aware he had. It was...different. She didn't know if she liked that or hated it. Too hard to figure out that issue, she acknowledged, so Siena set to her usual diversions.
Not her problems, theirs. Mentally, she took a step back, couldn't get herself too involved if she wanted to make sense of things.
"We...can't control what happens in combat." Liar. "Maybe you've made some mistakes, but...it's unfair to ask you to manage everything perfectly." Because it wasn't his job to be. He was a dragon, and if that link was anything to go by, he wasn't always going to be the one in control if that feral instinct reared its head. "And despite any misfortunes you may have had, you come back, and you go fight again. It takes some sort of courage to do that."
A pause. Another lie...? No, a partial truth.
"...besides, what would I do if you dropped dead?" A distant smile that spoke of a sorrowful thought. Harder to imitate, harder to project. "I'd hate to lose another friend."
There was some reassurance in her words, but what struck him most was her last reason. That gave him a faint smile, not when hidden by his apathy or edges, there was some genuine happiness in that thought. He didn't feel so alone, and he felt a bit foolish for not thinking of how she felt if he went, but that joy didn't last long enough to cure his plight. His distant tone soon returned.
"You're not wrong, and I don't want to give you any burdens should I go...I guess its me being selfish..but everyone around me just..." He stopped himself. He had been so open to her thus far, like a damn slowly opening up to let the water out, but in that single sentence that same dam suddenly closed; as if it was barricading against a flood. He fell silent, turned his head away from her, the very thought of that just caused him to feel that same emptiness..that loneliness, that he was so used to feeling now. It almost felt bitter, being pulled from that brief moment of comfort back into the abyss he crawled from; A reaction that caused a single tear to sting his cheek.
Was she wrong?
"I--" Siena stopped herself. Wasn't this easier? A cold, hollow feeling shot through her chest. Right, wasn't this what she had originally wanted? The brunette paused, felt a moment of hesitation. Should she stop him? Let him go? There hadn't been enough time to pull enough of herself away to make the logical choice. Not enough time to feel less human yet. "...if that's really how you feel, I won't stop you." But that wasn't fixing anything, and what good was that? She bit her lip. This wasn't what she wanted, but...since when did what she wanted matter in the end?
She made her voice waver, loud enough to carry, but not enough to be strong. Like it had hurt, even when she wasn't entirely sure if it had.
"I guess staying by my side was just a convenient turn of phrase."
There was a pause. "I still mean what I said, being by your side that is, that won't change so long as the both of us draw breath at least." He stood upright and paused, looking towards the ocean with a sense of longing. "I'm..i'm being a bit too dramatic, I apologize. I don't plan on killing myself or anything." He turned back to her with an attempt of a smile to hide his sorrow. Next time we hang out we should talk about something more casual..I..." He turned his head away.
"I'm not ready to talk about what happened..." He muttered to himself before he started to walk off. "Do me a favor though, and take care of yourself. I don't want to lose you too." Though he meant every word, he wasn't strong enough to keep that conversation going. He was close to talking about old wounds, wounds that weren't ready to be looked at. He trusted her, but he wasn't ready to share that with anyone, not even himself.
Take care of yourself. Easier said than done when she never did it before.
But that wouldn't fix anything, so she gave a soft sigh.
"Alright." Careful treading. An affirmative to all statements, any statement he wanted the affirmation for, even if it wasn't true. "The request goes both ways though." A pause. Make it easier.
"I think I'm going to head back first." Painting a masking smile, weak and careful, Siena brought a hand up to rub her shoulder, as though chilled by the breeze of the ocean through the thin bolero over her shoulders. "I'll catch a cold if I'm out here much longer."
Without any more words to share, Chris took of his favorite blue jacket and offered it to her. Though a bit chilly himself, he also offered to walk her back home with his hand.
Zoe felt like she could be doing better with all this. She'd been trying more, that was for certain, but... well, Angel had been right to say her methods weren't healthy, that was for sure. Something about slicing yourself open for training's sake didn't strike her as a tactic that'd count as a great coping mechanism. But it was pain, wasn't it? Everything cycled back to that. She'd been specifically avoiding Lily, knowing fine well the girl would try to heal her. And after what she'd done to the arbiter on Monday, Zoe hadn't wanted to go anywhere near Kusari either.
Still, she couldn't really get better at dealing with the others if she avoided them all day.
That being said, she didn't have much reason to seek people out for the most part. Outside of perhaps one or two classmates, Zoe wasn't even sure who'd count her as a friend. So actually planning to bother anyone was a no-go. Coming across them in her own time, however, was a different story entirely. So upon seeing Siena walking around the mansion, Zoe figured she wasn't doing much today anyway. Breaking into a jog, she tapped the younger girl on the shoulder in an attempt to get her attention. "Hey, Siena. You busy?"
It was...better than the last week, Siena acknowledged. At least, she was sleeping a little better--if you could call what her nightly schedules were real sleep. After her usual morning endeavors, Siena had taken to walking the grounds. Still not eager to make contact with her peers, still avoiding the help whenever possible, but at least she was out. With her phone nestled safely in her pocket, the day was nice. Nicer still if she kept pushing away memories of recent events. Almost perfect if she didn't let herself stop and think for long enough to remember that she'd effectively trampled over most of the friendships she'd started to form.
It was for their own good, wasn't i--WHAT?
A sudden tap on her shoulder was more than enough to make Siena jolt, almost jumping at the voice, her muscles tensing as though wanting to immediately figure out a flight or fight response. Oh no, noooooooo punching. Two times to Marcus's face was plenty, Siena chided herself--or maybe her panic wasn't intense enough to lose that hint of rational thought. Thankfully, trying to work through that particular line of thought was more than enough to keep Siena from acting brashly, eyes darting up and down to see who was speaking to her.
"O-oh, Zoe!" Her heart still raced, but started to slow, allowing for her to recall the question that she thought had followed her name. "Oh, um...no, not really." She paused for a fraction of a second, then gave a chuckle. "Actually, make that not at all."
At that, Zoe laughed lightly. "Thought so. You don't exactly look like the busiest person in the world right now." She wouldn't have annoyed Siena if she had, really. But hey, that meant that neither of them had anywhere to be. And Zoe actually felt like being around people wouldn't be so bad today. "So, mind if I drag you into town? Might as well go find somewhere to spend the day."
Recalling their last interaction, Zoe figured there was at least one rule they could both agree to stick to. Gesturing to her face, she smiled. "Somewhere without chandeliers, anyway."
Despite her best attempts, Siena gave a sheepish, apologetic smile at the mention of chandeliers, memories of having a few more sips of liquor than she should have and encouraging a few antics that she really shouldn't have seeming distant though they had been less than a week ago.
"I'm still reaaaally sorry about that," Siena claimed with an appropriate grimace. That definitely, definitely was her fault. Still, at least it...seemed like there weren't hard feelings? At least no feelings harder than the floor of a penthouse. The sheepish smile fell more into place, the apology fading slightly from Siena's expression as she responded to the first inquiry. "But heading to town sounds better than staying cooped up here all day again."
And...well, the more distractions she had, the better, right?
"Great! And don't worry; I've got a thick skull anyway." Zoe chuckled, pleased by the girl's agreement. Honestly, she'd wanted to head to the town for a while now, but it was better to have someone to go with. And, while it wasn't really the point, it was generally more helpful to have someone that wasn't an X around. Even with other subs, they could be seen as... what had been the word? Unreliable. Knowing what went on in her own head, Zoe couldn't blame them.
Come to think of it, though, she didn't have much of a plan. "So, you need to get ready? It's only a few miles away, so we could probably grab some bikes and cycle down if you're up to it. I think they have some in the garage." It wasn't far to go, and it'd be good exercise the way Zoe saw it. That and, well, "I kind of have no idea how to drive."
Ah, so Zoe didn't know how to drive? Siena gave a slight smile, knowing that her own position wasn't much better. That aside, she'd never ridden a bike beyond the boundaries of her estate before, but Siena didn't think that could really be a deterrent. After all, since she'd arrived at USARILN, there had been a lot of firsts--the first time riding a bike in absolute freedom didn't sound entirely terrible.
She pushed the memory of who had taught her how to ride a bike out of mind, and smiled at Zoe and responded with an attempt at humor. "Unless my dog knows how to drive, I think we'll be stuck with bikes."
"I mean, have you checked? Never know what they could teach 'em around here." Zoe laughed, relieved. That was good, because she would have felt like a complete idiot if there hadn't actually been any way to get to town. All things considered, though, this worked out fine. "We go now, we should get there in time to grab lunch or something." Though from what little she'd seen of the place in their journey, Zoe wasn't convinced it'd be fine dining.
Deciding it would be easier for them to just figure it out once they got there, Zoe turned to make her way towards the garage. Glancing back over her shoulder, she shot Siena a grin. "No point waiting around longer than we have to, right?" By the time that the duo had gotten to town, Siena had come to realize a few things about bikes. First, she hadn't ridden one in years, and that was to be expected with what limited space she had to ride in, she supposed. Second, when people said that one never forgot how to ride a bike, they were the biggest damn liars she'd ever heard. Though she'd managed, with great effort, not to make too much of a fool of herself, Siena had realized that she was not as comfortably balanced on a bike as she used to be, though with enough time, the girl had managed to largely regain whatever old talents she might have had on a two-wheeled vehicle of potential injury. Thank goodness she'd deigned to take a helmet with her.
She really had to stop getting onto vehicles that she was in control of--or so some sardonic voice in the back of her head declared. It was not wrong. Still, as the mage freed her hair from the bike helmet, she couldn't help but feel a little...lighter? It was hard to put her finger on the word. The feeling wasn't unpleasant.
"W-Well, I somehow managed not to run my bike down a mountain side," she said with a laugh. Something in the back of her head set off a faint, anxious warning. People generally didn't get along with subnaturals, would the town be any different? Again, the brunette pushed the thought aside and smiled instead. "Any chance we can pretend I didn't run it into that tree though?"
"I'll just say you'd have some impressive off-road skills," Zoe grinned wickedly, "if I didn't think you were trying to stay on the road the whole time. How about I don't bring that up, and you don't bring up the hotel." The younger girl didn't seem to have hurt much more than her pride, though, so it was fine to find it at least a little funny. That being said, Zoe was glad she hadn't let Siena try to drive or something.
As for this place, well... their journey had been delayed somewhat by Siena's grudge against nature, so it was more than late enough for Zoe to start feeling peckish. "What do you say we find some food? There's gotta be someplace around here, and it should be around lunchtime." She glanced at Siena. "You hungry?"
"Sounds like a fair trade." Even if the hotel incident was Siena's fault. Falling in line beside Zoe, Siena took the chance to get a quick look around for a quick inspection of the atmosphere. The weather aside, it didn't seem like anyone was running at them with pitchforks for showing up, thouh the brunette had to say that was probably the extreme reaction to the presence of subnaturals. Beyond that, nobody was getting in their faces, so she supposed it was hard to say that there was a reason for the two to be targeted. Finding that satisfactory, the Arbiter gave a haphazard grin in response.
"If I say yes, can I get revenge on some trees by eating a salad or something?" Like eating their leafy, chubby cousins, the heads of lettuce and spindly spinach. This felt...natural. No time to think about that. She didn't want to think about that. Fine. The smile didn't falter.
Zoe laughed lightly, her smile wide. "That, I'm sure we can do. There's gotta be somewhere around here with food - everyone's gotta eat, right?" Even out in the middle of nowhere, everyone had to eat, right?
After a long walk around the town, Zoe had firmly decided that this place was a complete shithole and seemed almost completely deserted. Any signs of life were evened out by the complete lack of anyone around. Eventually, they'd stumbled across a cafe of some sort. Better than nothing, she supposed, although she was no longer quite so sure they'd have any salad. If there wasn't anything there, then she'd probably just give it up, in all honesty. "Let's just head in here. If there's nothing, then we can at least sit for a while, 'cause this place is kind of a wreck."
Pushing open the door, Zoe grinned widely. If nothing else, she could at least hope that these people wouldn't be assholes. "Afternoon."
The cafe owner was an older man--a quick peg marked him around his early 30's or late 20's--whose beard hadn't been trimmed in days. Yellowing water stains decorated his rumpled dress shirt and lint had gathered onto a nice layer across his brown corduroys. He smelled like alcohol, despite the cafe's only drinks being water and watered-down coffee, which gave away his pastime whenever he wasn't lazing in the little space he called his own. But all of that were peripherals, because the single most notable feature was the white streak across his face as he turned to look at them, brown eyes widening at the sight of Zoe's X, then narrowing towards the mark on Siena's face.
"...What do you want?" he huffed, putting down the mug of coffee he had been nursing.
Following after Zoe into what claimed to be a cafe, Siena glanced around, the cafe quite a change from what the girl was used to. A small buzz in the back of her head murmured about how little Maya would have approved. Her clothing would get dirty--too late to fix that after the ride there--and things were--her eyes settled on the owner. A bit sloppy, but that wasn't of much concern when her eyes settled on the white streak mirroring Siena's own.
'He's a subnatural too...?'
It was startling in comparison to the last few establishments, and it took most of Siena's self control not to stare in wonder. She glanced at Zoe, then around the establishment, then back at the man in question, her speech apparently lost for a moment. "Um..." A few potential words tried to form, but none seemed quite right, so she threw out the first question that came to mind. She regretted the question as soon as it had formed halfway, the grimace showing before the final words clearing. "Are you open now?" Dumb question.
For her part, Zoe hadn't missed the man's surprise at their appearance, frowning when she realised he was a subnatural as well. A white mark; not hard to figure out which one of them he'd be likely to have an issue with, the way she saw it. Despite the potential hostility, she didn't mind the location itself. The grime of the place, while... not exactly high-class, was almost familiar. Comforting, compared to the strangeness of the mansion and its ever-present servants.
Even if this place wasn't exactly normal, it almost - almost - offset how unnerving this whole town had been.
"Hey, it's the middle of the day. I'm sure there won't be any problem with us hanging around for a little while." Zoe smiled at the man, though it clearly wasn't a friendly one. "Right?"
"...Don't cause no trouble. You start feeling that--that whatchamacallit you X's get--you get out of here. Go break something I won't miss." He continued watching them, as if expecting Zoe to fly off the handle at any second. "Only have water and shit coffee right now. People don't really come here for drinks."
"What do they come here for? Depression?" Zoe spoke sharply before realising this probably wasn't helping her prospects here. She understood the reasoning, but it sucked to realise that even other subs would have that kind of reaction to her presence. Tempting as it was to push the point further, Zoe sighed. "I'm sure I can find it in my heart to sit down for a few minutes without going on a destructive rampage." That, and she didn't want to drag Siena into a fight or force the girl to watch a murder.
An exercise in self-control. Shrugging, she walked over to grab a seat - a manoeuvre designed more so she had an excuse to turn away. It wouldn't do to let him see the moment of bloodlust that she couldn't keep from her face, fading once the initial frustration settled.
The man snorted, already expecting trouble. X's were the same no matter how hard they tried to fight it. Sure, it wasn't their fault, but that didn't mean he had to put up with their shit. Like how old people got shafted into nursing homes, he figured, except the case here was less senility and more psychotic rampages.
"News," he answered, ignoring the snark of the response. "Every month we get a packet of newspapers and magazines. They come here to talk." He nodded at an empty, rusting wall rack next to the end of the bar counter. "And sometimes I hear things that don't find their way into no newspapers."
It didn't take long for tensions to rise, and Siena was reminded, once more, that Zoe had the black X on her throat, not the white paintstroke. The brunette didn't see the difference, didn't wonder what it was like feeling a need to break and destroy because she felt it frequently. It was hard to remember that they were different, even by subnatural standards, until someone else pointed it out to her. As Zoe moved for a seat, Siena turned her attention to the other man, shooting an apologetic look despite not feeling any real need to apologize. She would have moved to sit with Zoe, but her attention was suddenly grabbed by what the man said.
Things that didn't make their way to newspapers? The girls eyes followed his motion, peering at the empty wall rack. It made sense that news wouldn't reach the remote location often, but...
"What kinds of things?" The girl found herself asking before she could stop herself, that ambition to know once more burning in her gut, spreading like it wished to consume her.
"The kinds that keep you alive if you catch it in time. Leviathans in the waters. Amigos or Senators finding their way here. Worse folks catching wind of this place. We keep to ourselves here. And for now. Don't need nothing disturbing the peace."
He was much less guarded around Siena, namely because she wasn't at risk of a black mark controlling her urges, but it was a fool's choice to think all white marks meant well. The leader of Amigos certainly didn't if the rumors from the favela were anything to go by.
Those were familiar names...had she read about them before? Amigos and Senators...Siena made a mental note to look into into it later, to refresh her memory if nothing else. The brunette gave a quiet nod in response, though she wondered if the presence of her classmates was something that counted as disturbing the peace. Well...
"I...I see." Another flash of curiosity, fire burning into her stomach. It consumed her more quickly than it should have, and trying to put the flames out, but succeeded only in fanning the embers. "...has there been anything to hear of?"
The cafe owner chuckled, knowing the curious gaze. "Let's have a look."
The outline of his body seemed to blur, before melting inward, colors and features fading until he looked like a two-dimensional figure ripped from a canvas and placed into reality. From every angle the effect remained the same and his silhouette finally faded into a dull gray. He was still while this happened, and within seconds he was back, the strange effect overlaying his body vanishing in an instant.
"Amigos are up to something, down there in ProvidΓͺncia. They've been shuttling supplies like mad for the past month now. From where and to who is anyone's guess at the moment. Things blocking me and obscuring me--probably their own mages at work. They're being that careful, then it's something that needs stopping, simple as that."
He picked up his coffee mug, sipping from it casually. "But that's your free tidbit for the day."
"Nice trick. Hope you're not expecting us to pay you." Zoe frowned, but otherwise didn't seem too bothered either way about the information. It was slightly callous, but truth be told she didn't see why she should give a shit what they were doing down there. If it was an issue they needed to deal with, they'd be sent there. Otherwise, Zoe didn't care what plan they were working on; if they weren't trying to kill any of them right now, it wasn't her problem.
She doubted the papers for this month had come in yet, or surely someone would've made the connection between the new group and the sudden appearance of a boatload of subs. Then again... Zoe turned to look at the man, a questioning look on her face. "For all you're saying people come here to talk, I don't see any. Hell, I haven't seen anyone around since getting here. Place is a damn ghost town." And she wanted to know what was up with that a whole lot more than she cared about what the Amigos were doing.
"People keep away from new ones. Never know what'll go wrong. Or what someone's up to. Best to keep scarce until they tip their hands." He sat down on a stool behind the bar, massaging his legs with a free hand. "Thing you need to understand is we don't like trouble around here. We keep to ourselves. But it's a sub-run place and word gets out every so often. Then trouble comes looking. You're gonna have to give people a break if they think you're just more trouble brewing."
Where Zoe had seemed unimpressed, Siena couldn't help but feel a trickle of envy at the man's abilities. Information gathering? As a power? Even her usual ability to keep herself in check couldn't stop the small surge of mild giddiness that came to mind at the prospect. Certainly, it wasn't an ability that could be used in the situations that she had found herself placed in during the last month, but...all that information at one's fingertips. She could barely hear the ensuing conversation for all the possibilities that crowded the space usually reserved for sorting what belonged to her and what didn't. It wasn't until an odd phrase came up in conversation that Siena felt herself ground back into reality as though being thrown into the ground by a giant at full strength.
'A sub-run place?' Siena furrowed her brow faintly while drifting toward the table Zoe had settled at. Did Zhang know about it? She had to, considering they were being put up at her estate, and there was...there was no way she would employ so many subnaturals while lingering so close to an area run by subnaturals without noticing. Something didn't quite add up, a piece that didn't fall into place. It grated at Siena no matter which way she turned it in her head, and that was frustrating in and of itself. Did the subnaturals know about Zhang? Wouldn't they have to?
"So everyone here is a subnatural...?" It was odd to consider that when the marks had seemed so rare when outside of USARILN's gates. It took some time for the girl to digest the concept. That was an entirely different type of demographic to consider--were there more Arbiters than Aberrations? The other way around? How did it work with everyone sporting some sort of supernatural gift? The torrent of questions seemed not to end, but she didn't expect to voice them without being thrown out. Not after what she'd just heard.
A soft voice of reason in the back of her head alerted Siena to something else, and her expression shifted, melded into something between concern and what might have passed as some version of sorrow.
"Even accounting for powers, if everyone is managing to keep out of sight, there probably aren't that many here, are there...?"
"Mm-hm," the man intoned, eyes flicking into that surreal two-dimensional tone. He snapped into and out of the power easily, as if from habit, and after several moments of searching a space the girls couldn't see, he finally raised an eyebrow at them. "Well, if you still want to sit here knowing there's not much here at all, be my guest. But don't stay too long. People might get antsy."
"Oh, that's fine, I've already got a mass murder penned into my schedule this evening, so I can't stay too long." Zoe's acid tone gave away exactly how unimpressed she was with this guy, but she didn't do anything to warrant a fight. Not right now, anyway. Judging by his reaction to her, Zoe couldn't help but suspect that there weren't many of her type around. Made sense on some level, but it was still grating - perhaps more so after dealing with the pricks in DC. "Wouldn't want to make anyone uncomfortable, would we?"
"...Right. Make lots of friends with that attitude, don'tcha?"
"I'm not trying to. You're not worth my time." Except maybe as target practice. Zoe wondered what kind of consequences she'd face if she lost it in here. Couldn't be sure, but either way, he'd be less ugly if she mounted his head on a wall, tore his skin off like a-- and with that thought, Zoe stood abruptly, glancing towards the door but not quite bolting yet.
"Z-Zoe?" The redhead's sudden movement was more than enough to elicit some concern from Siena's end, and she didn't need to hide it at that moment. It was enough to take the bookworm's mind off of what the man had been seeking earlier. Things about them? Things about events far away? An uneasiness had set its icy grip onto her, one that only amplified with each passing moment. "Are you okay?" Dumb question, not one that was really worth asking. "Is something wrong?"
Was that really a better question?
"Sort of." Was something wrong? Or were the thoughts as horrifyingly right as they felt? Zoe didn't want to mention why she'd reacted that way in front of the cafe owner, if only because she'd be proving him right. But hell, she'd already almost killed someone since they were brought to the damn mansion - he was right in her case. And even if she was justified, any fight would end with the guy in a body bag more likely than not.
But damn if it wasn't tempting to start one anyway, reenact one of those terrible fantasies. If it weren't for Siena's presence, Zoe couldn't say if she'd have had the same kind of restraint. As it was, the thoughts seemed to subside a little as the spark of anger faded, leaving the redhead more composed but noticeably tense. "I think I need to clear my head."
"Tell you something good, since you're here and you look like you could use it," the cafe owner called out, watching Zoe with some measure of respect for even attempting to get out of there before things could get nasty. "Dunno about other Animi, but Cat's Cradle--they don't have that problem no more. The little evils that come with the X. I don't know if it's one of their powers or what, but whatever you're suffering ain't a universal law. Dunno if that helps any since the group's damn near impossible to catch, but it's something."
"Something, huh?" Zoe wasn't sure what she was meant to do with that information, but she found herself feeling something completely stupid - hope. Because with the way things had gone, there was every chance their paths would cross with Cat's Cradle again. And for all they'd done, even when Zoe knew they were supposed to be murderous psychopaths--
Was it so wrong to be a monster when the whole world was against you? It was a path she would happily walk down if it meant power. If it meant protecting the others from everything else. Knowing that it might let her be free of those constant urges was just one hell of a bonus. So for once in her life, Zoe decided she'd hold on to that hope, nodding almost imperceptibly.
"Sorry about this, Siena, but I'd rather explain outside." She moved to leave the cafe with an apologetic sigh, pausing at the door and speaking to the man. As close to friendliness as she could muster. "I didn't catch your name."
"Andrew," he replied, nodding at her. "And you'll want to get back to the estate soon, Zoe. I think your friend's dog is chewing on your orange bra. Or her orange bra. The one with that fancy netting for 'breathability' or whatever those sports commercials call it."
"Wh--" Grey eyes darted from Andrew to Zoe. He had been looking into them. A series of unpleasant emotions largely centering on anxiety started to form, bu--wait. Siena didn't own any orange bras. And how had Chief Tater Tot managed to--oh no. She must not have closed the door to her room properly. "Oh no."
"Siena, I don't suppose you've got any way of stopping your dog before it eats all my underwear? You'd be doing me a favour." This was irritating. That was a good bra, and she'd rather be able to keep it, especially when there didn't seem to be anywhere to buy more around here. At least Andrew had been--
Wait a fucking minute.
Zoe suddenly found herself reconsidering the melting idea. Technically, he could live life without certain body parts, right? Icy blue eyes narrowed at the cafe owner. "...hang on, why the fuck were you looking?"
The man raised his hands in a half-hearted placating gesture, coffee mug once more set aside. "Can never be sure people are who they claim to be. Either I check, or I risk dealing with some damn good actors without knowing."
"I'm going to hope you were just looking at my room. Because if you were trying to look through my underwear, we're going to need a conversation." Zoe's words sounded surprisingly reasonable, though there was something in her tone that made it sound as though she was itching for him to give her a real reason to rip something off. After a second, that semblance of reason disappeared. "Actually, you know wh--"
Just as she seemed ready to lunge, she caught a glimpse of Siena out of the corner of her eye. You'll drag her down with you. That was right. Zoe was supposed to look after them, wasn't she? Supposed to make sure nothing went wrong. That was what she'd decided. Doing this would hurt the others, not just Andrew. Another betrayal.
And it was that thought, not any concern for the man's life, that made her decide to abandon the conversation mid-sentence, turning and pushing the door open to exit the cafe without a word of explanation.
"A-Ah...' She'd braced herself in case jumping in was necessary, in case she had to do something more than be there. but before anything could happen, Zoe was out the door. Familiar, isn't it? Another memory that she couldn't quite place. A soft breath, something that echoed as though being screamed into a hollow valley. Another apologetic look toward Andrew--instinctive and only partially genuine beneath the concern. "Sorry..."
One step toward the door, a second step, and then she paused. It was an option. She could ask. The brunette turned again, looked at the cafe owner, opened her mouth to ask, then hesitated. Did she really want to know? Her closed her mouth. Too hard to tell, so instead she moved for the door after Zoe.
"You don't need to follow me, you know."
Zoe didn't look back before she spoke, hearing Siena exiting the cafe behind her. Despite acknowledging the other girl's presence, the redhead continued walking for a few more seconds before sighing and giving her a pained look. "I'm serious, Siena. I have to cool off, and I doubt you'll be able to help."
'I'll stand back here if that's what you want." Because Siena knew how it felt to want everyone at arm's length--further, even. Her feet stopped, and the Arbiter watched with a cautious gaze. "In case you decide that you can use me." Her fingers ran to her pocket, thumbed over the smooth screen of her phone. Cooling herself off was easier, but Siena was equally certain that there was there was someone in her arsenal that could calm someone else in the best case.
And if she needs to cool off because she's going through something like your little performance at the library?
It wouldn't come to that.
Ha. Like there was any helping it. It was going away, fading, but... it'd come back, wouldn't it? Always did. The rest of her life. Pretty arrogant, to believe she could just tear it all away, to neglect sating her Stigma properly in favour of trying to pretend she was something she wasn't. Always someone else that paid for it.
Zoe was silent for a long while before speaking. Her voice was angry when she did, but at the same time there was something detached about it, something distant. "You know what my power is, right? I rot things. Rot people. Until they die. Hurts a hell of a lot, too." At least from her own experience. She still wasn't looking at Siena, and didn't particularly seem to care who might or might not overhear her.
"There's a reason people don't like X-marks. If you weren't there--" And suddenly it felt a lot less distant, a lot more immediate and real and painful. "I keep telling myself I'll get better, and I don't. I'm a fucking liability." She didn't know why she was saying any of this.
There was almost a sour taste of irony in the words. Rotting people until they died. Certainly, Zoe's was more literal, but Siena didn't doubt that she could do the same--except hers wasn't a power. It was just because it was her. The brunette didn't let it show on her face, didn't remove her gaze from Zoe's back. A reason why people didn't like X-marks, one that she was surprisingly familiar with herself. Versatility at a cost. Power at a cost. Everything with a price tag, except for Zoe, ignoring it would probably make it worse.
"But you're trying, aren't you?" Which was more than Siena could say for herself. Get lost in every other emotion until she could deny which ones were hers. The Arbiter remained where she stood, didn't step closer because she remembered what it felt like to be desperate for space. Don't touch. Don't get closer. Don't. Touch. "I can't pretend I know or completely understand, but you're trying, and that's a first step."
Even if there was no way to get better.
A moment, she hesitated.
"I don't know what it is that X-marks go through, but I know what it's like not to have control." Not to have a way to curb the desire to break something because there was another, louder voice that demanded destruction. "As far as I know, that's not something that gets better quickly."
"That's a nice thought."
Trying. Wasn't that a word? Trying to be better, trying to be stronger, trying to be something, anything other than a goddamn mess. Try, try, try - and fail every time. How funny was it, that people actually thought they could rely on her, that she knew what she was doing here? Flying blind - or was it just falling with nobody left to catch her? Sinking lower and lower, because that was infinitely better than watching someone else do it.
"I told you before, didn't I? That I'm a bad person." Zoe smiled. "I don't plan on being a good one, either. Good people..." Died. Hesitated. Got hurt by people like her. "Can't protect what's important." Couldn't tear down the world for their own sake, or rip someone head to toe without hesitation.
Zoe wasn't trying to fight what she was becoming, far from it. "This isn't going away - and to tell the truth, I'm not trying to fight it off. I've hurt enough teammates to know that doesn't work, no matter what I tell myself." Finally, she turned to face Siena, her eyes cold. "All I can do is try to aim it at the right place."
Cold eyes. Siena didn't flinch. Not the first time she'd seen them, and she doubted it would be the last. Trying to aim it at the right place? That was good enough for her. At least she was trying to do that much. Siena wondered, briefly, if she should have agreed, should have been honest. A few weeks ago, she might have backed down, but a few weeks ago, she hadn't been carrying too many thoughts in her head. Everything had been neatly compartmentalized so she could keep being Santana.
"That's good enough." For her, at least. It was more than Siena could say for herself. How many times will you break things before you're satisfied? "That's an effort that too many of us haven't made."
"Is it?" And yet it wasn't good enough to mend anything, to make her a better person. Not even good enough to slow her descent. But good enough, perhaps, that she would be the only one destroyed by her fall. "The ends justify the means, don't they?"
Perhaps this was callous, even cruel to bring up, but Zoe didn't care. "We're pretty much okay right now, so I don't much care how we got here. Collateral damage or not." Collateral damage? Nice way to describe the pile of bodies they left in their wake. Why had she kept speaking? Because she wanted someone to tell her she was wrong? To argue?
"But if we're not smart about what we're doing, then it'll hurt us too. Your team got lucky in DC that no footage got out. I got lucky in Wisford that a healer made it to Cal before she bled out." A sigh. "If anyone isn't making the effort, they need to start. We won't keep getting lucky."
"I'm aware." And she thought of Marcus. Thought of how easy it had been to pull him in, how easily she had stomped on what might have been there. A friendship, maybe. There were so very few she considered friends. Instead of dwelling, Siena did what she knew was easier--simple compartmentalization. Separating herself from her emotions--at least the ones that she could pack away like spare parts. Her gaze went unfaltering, but it wasn't the same, quiet expression that she practiced for USARILN. Not the slight smile, the nervous gaze. Not the girl that thought being surrounded by people would make things easier.
Would he be proud?
"At this point, someone would have to be blind not to realize that we're no longer simply cuffed subnaturals under USARILN employ." Blinder still to think that they were children being sent to war. Not quite soldiers, but certainly not children. "Forcing someone to make the effort is beyond me, but reminding them where to aim may not be." But why was it her duty to begin with? She knew the answer without having to think. Because it was easier for her to sacrifice. Easier when she didn't see something that still looked human when she looked at herself.
She thought of all the people that she hadn't been able to help. Of the red that hadn't belonged to sin. Of how she knew if she were to fall back into old habits and hum a melody engrained far beyond her reach, she would see her flesh burn crimson.
"But you're here, already making the effort. You're here, willing to tell me what I may not want to hear instead of pitying me." And it would never be enough for someone that didn't want to see themselves as "good". She knew that. Again, she thought of Marcus. Of how easy it had been to tell him not to care and make a cruel decision. "Maybe we aren't good people. That's fine. Good people can't make hard decisions." Couldn't cut apart monster from friend if they needed to make that sacrifice. "They don't always know where the right place to aim is."
"You're right. Doesn't mean they'll appreciate it when you take the shot, or that they'll see what's necessary, never mind trying to understand." There was a hint of disdain in Zoe's tone of voice - though not directed at Siena. "Does that really mean they're blind? Or just looking the other way out of fear?"
This was familiar. The girl's words were familiar, perhaps because they'd echoed Zoe's own thoughts around the matter to an almost unnerving degree. The steadiness of the arbiter's gaze surprised her with a different revelation. A strange yet not-quite-similar reflection of her own resolve. They weren't so different, were they? And yet, to the rest of the world, their different marks were a divide that would never be crossed.
"Czernobog. Bad luck and evil personified. They're probably right to be afraid of me. Because when it comes to it, when it really matters... I'd sooner kill a thousand people than risk seeing someone I care for die. A lot of our classmates would hate me for that, but I don't care so long as they'd be alive to do it." It was selfish, she knew that, but the admission didn't bother her in the slightest. Why lie? She had no reason to play at not being a monster. She'd done bad things for far worse reasons before.
"I don't really care what that makes me, to be honest. I know I don't care about the wider world, and I know I've done nothing to anyone that I wouldn't endure myself. That's more than enough for my conscience."
Both willing to make sacrifices, even if they weren't the same type. Siena couldn't deny that Zoe's straightforwardness was refreshing. It was easier to listen to someone that didn't make pretenses about what they were and weren't willing to do. Part of Siena was relieved with honesty, but another part of her felt another weight pressed upon her back.
Then I hope that you don't care for me.
She couldn't say that.
"If it's any consolation, I doubt there's much you could do to make me fear you."
Truth.
You have no idea.
But did Zoe really know that? None of this conversation had been something she expected of Siena, after all. Still, it was strange that Siena didn't seem to be bothered by what Zoe had to say. Because it would have been easy for Siena to lie about, to try and persuade her otherwise. Pretend to be a good person and put up a token fight to ease her own conscience. Maybe it wouldn't have worked, but that hadn't stopped people before, had it?
She really didn't know much about Siena at all.
"I think I believe you. Thanks, but..." Zoe sounded conflicted. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."
Siena gave a hollow smile. Well, it was to be expected, wasn't it? This wasn't the same expression, the same girl that she'd presented before. A distant question of whether she should have just kept playing the same part. Better at being the nice, demure child after being groomed, but that wasn't what she needed to be. Needed something that could at least pass for a little more straightforward, a little more willing to be blunt.
Ah...wasn't that why she appreciated Zoe to begin with?
"At least there's plenty of time for you to decide on that," Siena claimed. Plenty of things to be more afraid of than someone that seemed to care, after all.
"I guess there is. For me, anyway." Because unless things seriously started to change, Zoe doubted she'd have the luck to be dying any time soon. Still, for the others? With how wrong things kept going...
No. She wouldn't let that happen. Whatever she had to do, she didn't want to sit back and watch anyone else die. Wouldn't leave them responsible for another set of murders. Next time she'd be faster, stronger, more vicious than anything in their way.
"Not much to do but wait and face whatever might be coming. Maybe we'll get lucky and no-one dies this time." Maybe they'd get luckier, and it'd kill her and leave the rest of them alive. Zoe nodded to herself, appearing somewhat more composed than she had upon exiting the cafe.
As Zoe locked eyes with the other girl, she was going to thank Siena, but something stopped her. No, it wasn't thankfulness that was at the forefront of her mind, but rather something else. So the words that came out weren't 'thank you', but something else. Surprise, and perhaps a hint of amusement.
"You're not easy to predict, are you?"
The words gave Siena pause. That was one way to put it--she couldn't entirely say that she knew what she would do at a given moment. Not when everything was in danger of unraveling in the heat of a moment, with a few well placed words, with a few memories that she didn't especially want to see.
Her gaze turned away, an instinctive motion to hide the color again. No need to do so when she knew they were grey, but old habits were hard to put to rest.
"No, I guess not." She raked a few fingers through her bangs, pushed them out of her face. "Not exactly the best thing, is it?"
"I wouldn't know." Zoe noted that the other girl was avoiding her gaze, but didn't read any more into it than that. "I've been told I'm hardheaded, obstinate, bitchy... and incredibly predictable."
Perhaps she'd hit a nerve somehow, but Zoe wasn't exactly scrambling to make up for it. "You're what you make of yourself. Am I a bitch? Yes. Are you unpredictable?" There was a slight pause. "Maybe. I'm telling you you are. But why does what I'm saying matter? No-one else gets to decide that." It didn't occur to Zoe, really, that the two of them were from completely different worlds.
Perhaps there was a certain lack of understanding for Siena's situation. Arrogance in Zoe's assumption that everyone was theirs, and theirs alone. The way the redhead viewed the world was remarkably simple.
"You'd do well to give less of a shit, really."
Would it have been cruel to prove the argument wrong? That was the first thought that came to Siena's mind at the words. To stand there and tell Zoe that the brunette before her made decisions based on things that didn't belong to her? Her expression didn't falter despite the flurry of thoughts, she remained calm, as though centered in the eye of the storm.
It wasn't the time.
"You do have a point. I probably shouldn't care as much as I do." And the practiced smile fell into place. "Y-you know how it goes though. Old habits die hard, right?"
Old habits. Zoe wondered if those were the words to explain the sting in her hands, the bodies in her wake. There were parts of her too, ugly parts, that she couldn't quite kill without risking so much more. Not quite selfish enough to take that risk, not quite selfless enough to let anyone help her until she could. However true or false Siena's explanation was, it was enough for Zoe to accept.
For now, all they could do was soldier on through their self-indulgent suffering. Because old habits died hard.
"They do, don't they. They really do."
And perhaps, for now, there was nothing else to say.
She hadn't slept. It wasn't a new scenario, but the girl was acutely aware of the fact without the comfort of her phone at her side. She'd taken little comfort in the presence of hired help, and even less in the fact that she was in an estate that reminded her more of charity events and stiff dresses than it did of gruff words and gentle reminders. By sunrise, she'd wondered how long she could keep herself holed up in her room, by morning, she had ascertained that it was probably a bad idea. Noon had come and gone, and she told herself that she would have to work up the nerve to leave the safety of isolation. Eventually, she told herself, she would have to leave, especially if she wanted to avoid using the maids.
They're all subnaturals.
It was a thought that had been stirring like white noise. Why would Zhang hire subnaturals? Because they were easy to access? Curiosity burned faintly, a drive that made her want to know, but memories went back to the first night. Of gunfire, and how easy she had made it seem. How easy it was for her to send subnaturals into battle. How easy it was for her to rid the world of any trace of the ones that hadn't survived. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to pry, especially if the cuffs were able to subdue them with the push of a button.
'Focus, Siena. You want to find the study. Or a library or something.' For a source, first off and foremost, and for information...or, that was her intention. She had thought, perhaps, that she could figure out the estate with hazy memories of walking through the halls the night before, but she remembered only the vaguest details of the layout, and the uniform appearance of the building, though charming, had done nothing to help the girl's recollection. Instead, she walked past what she assumed to be the same hallway for what must have been the fifth time, and gave a soft groan. Maybe she should have asked a maid for help, regardless of the discomfort.
"Well, at least I know how to get here..." Siena muttered softly to herself. At least she hadn't run into anyone yet...which might have been a bad thing at that point. "Wherever this is."
Turns out that tracking people down was pretty easy once you got over the fact that it was hella stalker-ish. With the cuffs' tracking capabilities and the phone from Washington that had helped out so well with keeping track of where everyone else was, finding Siena had generally been a breeze...even if it looked as if she was just continuously lapping the interior of the estate for some indiscernable reason. Sun too bright and there was no sunscreen available? Didn't know where the gym was, but still wanted light exercise? Pacing around because she was deep in thought?
Regardless the reason, Brent walked up two flights of stairs to find the newly christened Slyph continuing her laps around the third floor, a small smile on his face. How would he approach this? With a battering ram? Or a lockpick?
"Heyo, 'ena," he said, a few feet behind her, "Getting in some post-lunch speedwalking?"
Even without the added benefit--a mental, wry smile formed at the idea--of sleep deprived paranoia, Siena would have jumped at the sound of a familiar voice from too close. The mage felt her heart race, her body jerk, felt herself spin on her heel to face Brent while being pulled from her initial thoughts of how utterly hopeless her endeavor to find a damn library was. First, there was a sense of relief, a brief thought that maybe Brent could show her how to get to the study, or anywhere with additional sources, then a faint feeling of panic at being caught without a source on hand. Without a name to hide behind if things went south. Following that, a volatile mixture of emotions that she struggled to identify.
guiltblameregrethurtbreakcry
"O-Oh, um..." She caught herself, reached to twist her hair between her fingers to try and put her mind on the present. "I uh...may be lost." The sheepish admission was accompanied by a faint grimace as she processed the inquiry in its entirety. Lunch. Right. She hadn't actually eaten since...she couldn't remember. A day ago? Two? She should have been hungry. It occurred to her that she'd been so focused on one goal that she hadn't even acknowledged trying to map out the rest of the estate in her head. Another mistake on her end. "I think pr--post-lunch speedwalking sounds less embarrassing though."
Instinct told him to take a step back as Siena whipped around, movements much too erratic and nervous to simply be someone 'turning around to face a friend'. There was a thinness to her gray eyes, the smallest of bags hanging underneath then. Almost looked like a mirror. In terms of exhaustion, at least. But it was understandable. He didn't get much sleep last night either, and if sleep meant dreams, it was her choice if she wanted to plunge into that fun little realm of storing short-term memories into long-term databanks.
So he ignored that instinct and took a step forward instead.
"Eh? Figured you'd be right at home navigating such a large mansion," Brent remarked, pocketing the evidence of his stalking, "But hey, whatcha looking for? Library? Art gallery? Music room?"
Lockpick for now. He still remembered how quickly things fell out of hand with Angelic.
Siena was aware she shouldn't have been on edge. Knew it wasn't Brent that had managed to strip her defenses and leave her terrified, but she still felt an almost overwhelming urge to step back to match his step forward. Instead, she allowed herself to shift her weight, slip a fraction of a centimeter in the desired direction as though it would be enough. She twisted the hair until she felt a few strands spring apart with an inaudible snap, felt a distant echo of both longing and discomfort at Brent's words. He wasn't wrong.
"I keep thinking it has the same layout as home, I...I guess." Which wasn't entirely true, but less revealing than explaining that she'd walked around blindly the night before and hadn't thought of anything but get away, and she was walking now with no more direction than get safety. Another hair snapped, came loose in her grip. "But the library. I um..." Don't like being here without a source. Don't want to deal with anyone else yet. Don't feel safe unless I can be someone else. "Thought it would be good to leave my room for a little."
It was only a distance of a few feet, but it was also an...improper one. They had been walking closer before. Talking closer before. But now, there was a rigidity in her stance, a propensity towards twisting her hair. Flirting? Unlikely. Nervous then. Did she read his mind? Know that he was here to talk about what had happened in DC? What she had done with the cars?
Does he drop the battering ram here?
"Gonna pull out all your hair like that," the arbiter chided, "But it's good that you're going out. Can't be a bedbug like Grant, after all." He laughed a little at that, before walking forwards once more, taking care to give her distance even as he stood right beside her. "Figured it'd be the library though. Checked it out myself last night, but it doesn't look like they have a YA section. Lotsa nature books though, if you're into that."
"A-ah..." As though simply mentioning the motion was enough to set her hair alight, Siena wrenched her fingers away from her hair. Bad habits died hard--or was that old habits? For an instant, the mage didn't know what caused that reaction. She didn't...care, did she? No...no time to linger. The girl pushed the thoughts aside for later. Nature wasn't exactly her forte, wasn't filled with any names that she could take, but having something in her hands was better than nothing. "Sort of. I used to read a lot of them."
Not a lie. She did. Not after she'd gained her abilities, but...
"Explore places you can't be at and such."
"Eh? Didn't go abroad during summer vacation and all?"
Siena paused at the inquiry, had to process what summer vacation was supposed to be. Some distant memory came to life, and Siena shook her head. Right, school terms. She'd have to get familiar with them again.
"No, but I made do with travel guides."
"Must be the type to read strategy guides instead of play video games, huh?" Brent remarked, smiling. Sheltered then, to the extent that it didn't even sound like she did rich people stuff. "Were you homeschooled?"
Wait, what?
"Um...home everything, I guess." Siena murmured with an uncomfortable tint, a small motion of her hand to accentuate the next two words. "Protective--" It was hard to place the correct descriptor. "--parents."
He hadn't expected her to actually answer, considering how he hadn't even expected himself to ask such a question. Blinking twice, Brent nodded slowly. "No wonder you didn't know about fast food," he said, shifting things to a lighter topic, "Bet you'd be queen bee in a public high school."
"I think I would prefer being the quiet bookworm." Though she doubted that would have been acceptable for Maya. Still, Siena was grateful to be away from trying to separate one home from another. "I guess I'm kind of predictable...?"
"Princess of the Library Club then?" the arbiter teased, as he turned the corner. "And really, after all the twists and turns of our current lives, predictability is pretty pleasant."
Compared to the madness of their everyday lives, compared to the bipolarity of Angelic's resolve, the fact that Siena liked books alot was turning out to be a pleasant anchor, all things considered. With a few more steps, the duo arrived at the library, Brent opening the door and bowing flamboyantly to let Siena in.
"Your throne awaits, Your Highness."
Was...was that a real thing? A flicker of curiosity that Siena snuffed out as best she could. Not the time. Instead, she tried, and failed, to give a half-embarrassed smile, shrinking a little at the display. Still too hard to put on the right masks, harder still with someone that had seen anything real.
"Th-thanks." She tried again, succeeded this time to make the smile stick. Stepping into what should have been a sanctuary, the girl turned to face her companion. "Does this make you a library knight, then?"
"Naw, just the servant," he chimed, closing the door behind him, "Someone's gotta do all the background work and all. Books don't dust themselves, after all."
"Can't a princess promote you or something?" Siena questioned while glancing around the library. "Besides, a little dust gives them that nice old page smell."
"True, but the king would have my head if his daughter were to get the sniffles from the dust," Brent replied. "And wouldn't it be terrible, if a loyal servant, promoted to knighthood, were to find himself in the front lines of a massive battle?"
Something about that hit closer to home than she wanted it to. Didn't that sound a little too familiar? Everything faltered a moment, fell out of line for an instant. Too close to home.
"Well, I don't see a king around here," Siena claimed. "But you have a point. I guess a servant gets all the benefits of royalty too--just with more chores and less...politics." She accented the final word with a mock grimace, as though the word itself was a bitter medicine.
"Mhmm, but without a king here, we don't have to think about politics either, eh? Sounds like you get all the benefits of royalty without the chores, 'ena!" Brent paused then, mid-drama, before breaking out into a grin. "Seriously though, we gonna continue with this royal court ro- drama, or are you gonna go find enough books to make a fortress?" Returning Brent's smile with one of her own, Siena gave a soft laugh. "I think I'll start with a small fortress." For a moment, Siena almost let herself feel safe, but she quieted that emotion just like she quieted the others. Still, she softened her expression, eased her smile into something less staged. Thanks.
Ah, there it was. All the recompense he really needed in return for support.
"Tell me if you need help finding stuff, yeah? Basically camped out here myself last night." A stack of books in arm was a wonderful feeling. It was true that for most cases, Siena preferred to have a digital version of her sources, but there was something about the smell of aged paper and the feel of the spine of a finely bound book that e-ink words couldn't compare to. It had taken longer than expected for Siena to manage to get the gist of the organization, but with Brent's help, she hadn't spent too long standing confused about the general areas of genres or authors. She'd even managed to locate, much to her surprise, a handful of foreign books that she hadn't expected to see. Setting the last of her finds onto a desk, Siena gave a grateful look to Brent.
"Thanks again for all the help." Already, there was a little more safety despite the texts lacking her usual securities. It took a moment for the girl to realize that when she said 'a small fortress', it might have been literal. Far more than she'd actually meant to take an interest in. "I said I'd control myself, but it doesn't look like I did a very good job, does it?"
Well, he knew that Siena was a reader, but watching her list off genre after genre after author after title, the sheer range and depth of the literature she consumed made Brent's own reading list look like a elementary school assignment. Foreign books? Enough subjects to make one a goddamn paragon? The arbiter whistled at the collection that she had amassed, enough to fill up a small shelf all by itself.
"No probs," he said, tilting his head to check out some of the titles that had been amassed, "Didn't realize you read this many though. Like, damn, ancient Sumerian? Pretty amazing stuff."
"I got a little excited..." Siena admitted while looking down at the top of the stack she'd just set down. More security, more safety. More knowledge that she'd never set her hands on before. There were a lot of reasons that books were the easiest thing to find sanctuary in, but Siena didn't like putting that into words. Instead, she gave a sheepish smile. "Well, I um...I remember reading that there were ancient Sumerian epics about Gilgamesh and Lugalbanda. I didn't think I'd find someone that had them though. I'm...a bit curious about the first written language too."
Well, curious about the language, curious if her ability would be able to make heads or tails of the script. She'd tried with a number of languages, but finding one made entirely of cuneiform script wasn't exactly easy.
"Heh, interested in channeling the king of kings?" he probed, taking a seat. "Well, tell me if it's a good read or if I should just read the wiki-summary once you're done, yeah? Think you can carry this back yourself?"
"Bit of a jump from library court to king of kings, isn't it?" She resisted the urge to tug at her hair as she spoke. "He's not even a very good hero." A pause. "Actually, he's kind of a jerk." Which was true. Most oh-so-memorable heroes of mythology were far from infallible, and though it might have been a little discouraging, Siena couldn't help but feel a muted sense of relief at the thought. Even heroes made mistakes.
That doesn't mean you get to forgive yourself.
"But I'll let you know if he's less of one in ancient Sumerian." Doubtful. Stories tended to exaggerate good and bad traits each time they were rewritten, and...well, he was still the king of kings, wasn't he? "I think I'll stay and read a few of these before I try and get back to my room." Too much chance of running into anyone else if she walked back, too much chance that someone might try to drop in on her, and far too much chance of having to face anyone she wasn't ready to face. "I don't think too many of our peers will need to take over the library anytime soon."
"Alright," Brent waved, "Dont get-"
He was shirking, wasn't he? Just letting himself get drawn into an easy, nonsensical conversation and grabbing a few laughs. Not bothering to pull the trigger, to address the elephant, to do what he had planned to do. Oh boy, what happened to that insensitive, hyper-focused individual he had been just a few weeks ago, the one that pushed Emma six floors underground into hell?
"-lost on your way back."
Partially opening the door, he closed it once more, an audible click ringing through the silent library.
"Right, before I forget..."
Where was he again, the one that was willing to burn bridges and sever bonds, for a moment's illumination?
"...what happened with the cars, Siena?"
There you are.
He knows?
Of course anyone would have known. To think otherwise would have been stupid, and Siena knew it. She felt her breath catch in her throat, her eyes shifting away from Brent, the damn hissing getting louder in her head. Monsters born from monstrous acts.
"I--" The word came out wrong. Like someone had wrapped their fingers around her throat and squeezed when she tried to speak. Broken, garbled, and only a single word in. She shut her mouth, took a breath to regain herself. Sources all around her, but none of her usual securities. No name she could hide behind.
She could lie. She could become exactly what she saw herself as. Could make it easier for her to betray and harder to be the one betrayed, but she didn't know if that act could be bought. If having two sides that did meet was more believable than explaining that she had countless sides that did not. The subnatural wanted, more than anything, for that cool, rational method of thinking to blanket her again, but it didn't come. Couldn't come when she was still trying her hardest to pick apart Dekka and Siena. Which parts belonged and which parts deserved to be put aside.
"I wasn't supposed to drop them. I didn't...I didn't mean to." She heard her voice before she could register that she was speaking, and Siena felt fear rile up, tried to break through and burst. There were no sources. She was supposed to be in control, so why was she speaking before she could filter out the thoughts? Before she could make a decision on what she was supposed to do? Was it Siena? Or maybe it was Dekka. Or perhaps it was someone whose name she'd taken, sealed up for so long that she had forgotten to close them away while trying to wrestle with the new onslaught...but it was too late to step back. Too late. "It doesn't change that I did."
beatbreakruinfleshbloodbone
"You don't have to believe me." Because she wouldn't have believed anyone in her position, not when so many subnaturals were monsters that looked human. Siena didn't raise her eyes, couldn't raise them to look at Brent. "We were supposed to help them." And she'd made to many mistakes to count.
That was enough. A mistake then. One mistake that collided with another mistake and produced a tragedy no one wanted. Was evacuation team trying to help them? Or was that just Siena who wanted to? Or did 'suppose' have a different meaning, one that implied the difference between duty and desire? He was unfair. He was picking at scabs that had only just formed, cracking open eggs that were still a jumbled mess. It was enough to know that this was a mistake.
But it wasn't enough for Brent.
It would have been too easy to leave, to keep quiet, to accept this without returning anything. Emma. Callan. Marcus. Angelic. So many divides. He had to stop losing, to bridge the gap before it became that same uncomfortable divide formed between so many others. He hardly talked to Emma now, even though he praised and mocked her behind her back. Callan avoided him, consigning herself to voluntary solitary confinement. And the words that remained unspoken between Marcus and himself was a blight upon their brotherhood.
So he pushed himself a bit. One step. Another. A third. Until he could seat himself opposite of Siena, giving her the distance of a table's width.
"It's..." No, that was wrong. "You're going to have to carry that burden."
There you aren't.
"I'm not in a place to offer forgiveness," he said, eyes locked onto her downturned gaze, "And I can't share your burden either. But..."
This isn't a time for smiles.
"Why were they raised, Siena?"
This was a time for answers.
"What were you trying to do?"
Don't...don't what? Siena tried to piece together her thoughts. Don't look in the eye? Don't touch? Don't get closer? What exactly was that thought supposed to finish into? She shifted her eyes briefly, an instinctive need hide the color. We can't hide what color they become. But she didn't retreat further than that, didn't think that anything she did would change that these were questions she would have had to answer. If not Brent, then Zhang--no, she was too far up the ladder. Some other face that was there to punish, to break someone down until answers could be extracted.
"Clearing the road. They were all abandoned by the time we got there. Even if we weren't driving a truck, we--" No, maybe not all of them. "I would have tried to clear the block anyways. Nobody could continue down that path to the evacuation point in that condition." And nobody would have been able to come in if Unit B had failed and it turned out that the military would have needed that wide, empty road. She kept that to herself. "I thought it would be faster to reduce gravity and push them. Less time per car we moved."
But then people had panicked. An obvious display of powers in a place where she had already known that subnaturals weren't welcome. Even if Cat's Cradle hadn't appeared, shouldn't she have expected the reaction?
"And...reducing gravity instead of negating it meant I could keep them from going out of sight while we moved everything out of the way. In...in case they weren't all abandoned."
Crisp, clean answers, even if marred by some hesitation, flowed out easily. Why was it so easy to see this as the truth? Because Siena was an honest individual? Unlikely. The two of them were similar in a way. Because there was no reason to lie about this? Doubtful. One could always lie, even without reason. Because he came into this already wanting to trust her? Typical. Confirmation bias.
He remained quiet as she spoke. It was easy enough to imagine what happened when things went out of hand. Perhaps her concentration was broken when the bricks fell. Perhaps it was Angelic's scream that did the trick instead. Grant was strong, but catching all those cars wouldn't have been easy. And no one else could have helped.
"I see," Brent said, at the end.
He envisioned himself leaving. Walking away now. Giving her some breathing space. Avoiding any deeper involvement. But his hand extended over the table instead. Reaching the halfway point. There was still that particular bond though. That codependency, formed between two people who couldn't help themselves.
"I believe you." Not accept. Not tolerate. Believe. "What would you like me to do?"
What did she want to do?
I don't know how to fix this. That was the first thought that came in response to the question. A quick and neat little thought that didn't do justice to what had come to life in response to the question. There were countless things that she could have said, words that could fill the space, do something so she could at least pretend that she knew how to keep herself together.
"I...I don't know." It was barely a whisper, and it was the truth. She didn't know, and there was no one around to help guide her through. No Gerwulf with his callused hands to direct her own, no Maya to whisper tips and tricks into her ears, only Siena, who only knew how to do what others told her she had to do. She took a moment to think, kept thinking, kept trying to come up with an answer, and when she couldn't, felt an overwhelming sense of being lost...and she couldn't stop it from showing. "And I hate not knowing."
The shadow of another's influence still lingered, didn't it? Living your life for someone else, until you couldn't be certain what you wanted. Some people embraced it. Others tolerated it. But when that crutch was removed...
He could understand that loss, that crumbling sensation as you looked inside and realized that you just had a ridiculously thick exterior. He could understand it, but he couldn't do anything about it. Didn't know a way to lead her elsewhere. After all, he was the sort of parasite that clung to anything in order to give meaning to himself. How on earth could he...
This far in, and he planned to fold?
...he'll figure out a way.
"Yeah, I can see that," Brent said, softly, "I don't know what you've been through, and you don't have to share that if you don't want to, but...hey. I'll be here. If you find something, I'll help you get a hold of it. Doesn't have to be big, doesn't have to be world-changing. Can't share your burden, cause I'm a pretty terrible mule, but when you find a path, I'll give you all the support you need."
Gah, this was coming out all wrong. How absolutely rancid.
"Take your time. I can wait."
A cautious, half-hearted smile formed at the words--it was...nice not to have someone immediately default to telling her what to do. A strange relief mingled with anxiety at the thought of not knowing what to do. At the fact that there was no end goal laid out for her, and no names lingering in the back of her head, in the depths of her heart, to try and whisper what she should do. A long pause as she went over everything in her head. What she wanted to do, instinctively, was fix something. To do something to help someone else, but that was just distracting her from the problem, wasn't it? Another long moment of thought.
"I don't know exactly what I want to do," she started. Her eyes trailed from her books, to the hand on the table, and slowly, settled on Brent. Didn't keep eye contact--still no good at it--but let their gaze meet for a moment before she directed her attention slightly down. "But for right now, I...I just want to be honest with someone." Another pause as she ran through the events of what had happened during the slaughter. She hadn't seen everything, but there were things she'd heard. "Or at least, I'd like for someone to be honest with me."
Honesty? Hah. He came here just to come that, in a way. Though whether this result was to be expected? No, he definitely didn't expect it. A smile creeped up on his face, genuine and reflexive, as Siena raised her own. Baby steps, but she was making progress.
"Wanna try it?" Brent asked. "Just for a question or two?"
Just a question or two. That didn't sound too difficult, but a quiet voice in the back of Siena's head told her that not hiding anything wouldn't be easy. Not if the right questions were asked, and not...not when it was anyone that she knew didn't have a real baseline. Still...this was what s he wanted, right? Because if she was honest to one person, maybe eventually, she'd stop having to use names to lie to everyone, to herself. A flicker of hesitation flashed across her face, but...
"A-alright..." Though apprehension fluttered just beneath the surface. "I think I can do that..."
"'kay."
This was a good chance. He could ask for all the spicy details of evacuation team's massive failures. Good chance to ask about her past, get an idea of what made her the way she is. Good chance to get specifics about her power. Good chance to even ask about nonsensical stuff, like what her favorite food was. Even ask about what she thought about literally anyone else. But that wasn't what he asked without hesitation.
"What do you think about me? All your thoughts. Good, bad, ugly."
Who would have known that all he wanted was to get roasted?
Out of the countless questions that couls have been asked, that...was not exactly what Siena had been expecting. She blinked once in surprise, a quick flutter of the eyelids as though uncertain that she'd heard correctly. Most people didn't want to hear every thought about a them, Siena had never actually given every thought she'd ever had to someone. Ever.
Straight into the fire, was it?
"Oh, um..." The brunette took a moment to gather her thoughts. Every one? No, that was probably just a quicker way to say the important ones. To give every single thought would have taken too long--she was aware that there were too many thoughts. Too many stray emotions to entirely filter out the thoughts that came to mind. "Starting with an essay question, huh?"
"Feel free to toss that question back at me when it's my turn," Brent replied, a smile surfacing, "You wanted honesty the other way around too, yeah?"
"Fair enough." She supposed, at least. With a breath, Siena tried to form a response that didn't hide the things she observed to take an advantage, the things she thought to herself because that was the only way she really knew how to deal with people. Just talk. Pretend he's August.
"You...remind me of home a little." Siena stopped, frowned faintly, and corrected herself. "S-sorry. More than a little, I guess." Right, that was step one, at least. "Like...you watch people, and you notice things about them that most others wouldn't, and it's...a little intimidating for me." Because she didn't like having things noticed about her, but that wasn't about him, right? "But you strike me as someone that doesn't...hm...I suppose hold back is a good way to phrase it? Not in the 'no filter' way, the other way." Someone that did things, and didn't hesitate to put their all into something because failing was hard.
Another pause. That was familiar.
"...actually, more than home, you remind me of someone that...um..." She paused, uncertain which way things were in that particular case. "...someone that I knew." Not a lie--at least, not as much of one when compared to how uncertain she was in what she originally wanted to say. "And that makes me a little wary of you. He wasn't a bad person, but he wasn't afraid to cross lines that I wished he wouldn't."
"Above and beyond," Brent recalled, speaking more to himself than Siena.
She nodded briefly. Above and beyond, and that was why he was always gone.
Not important.
"I guess I don't see you as someone that would ignore anything that you can help with either, and I--" A cold realization settled over the girl. Something she hadn't really wanted to acknowledge or admit. She offered a weak smile. A co-dependent type of relationship, but..."I honestly don't think you need my help at all."
He took in a breath. Opened his mouth. The answer was already in his mind, pregnant thoughts giving birth to a messy reassurance. But Brent stopped. Reconsidered. And nodded once at her answer.
"Your turn, 'ena," the amethyst eyed youth said, turning his palms over, "Ask me anything."
"Alright." Anything. That was a lot of questions that could have come to mind, a lot of answers to sate her curiosity that might keep the usual desire to know everything at bay when she was around the boy. Still, there was only one real question that she knew she wanted to ask. Things were supposed to go both ways, right?
"What do you think of yourself? It doesn't have to be everything, but...some things."
Well...he had lead her into this after all, huh? Even if the turnaround would be her asking him what he thought of her. And ultimately, it's not like he hadn't shared parts of himself before. It wasn't fully intentional, what with it just being part of the torrent of self-loathing that slipped out, but still...he didn't know what Siena shared often, but this shouldn't be difficult. Brent had his own skeletons, of course, but he's lived with them long enough, fought with them long enough, that he was numb to it.
What he thought about himself? It was definitely less of what he didn't want to share and more of what Siena didn't need to hear, right?
"Going for the jugular with this, eh?" he grinned, leaning back on his seat, amethyst eyes no longer so focused on Siena's own. "Well, where to begin..."
False hesitation and unnecessary contemplation. The truth wasn't that complicated, shouldn't take that much time to consider.
"If everyone else is a statue, I'm a mold. Does that make sense? I think it does. If you imagine that mold as possessing an unreasonably tough exterior, you know?β Brent laughed, but he looked upwards instead, leaning back on the seat. βDid enough thinking in the past about this to know that I basically have no passions, only an arbitrary collection of likes and dislikes. Optimistically, thatβs what drives me to try so hard at everything, why I dabble in everything. If I do find something one day, I donβt want to waste time building up my foundation. I think Iβd like to just rush for it, headlong.β
He wasnβt forcing himself. His smiles were the same as always.
βPessimistically, that means Iβm empty and needy, a leech with no plans for the far future. Thatβs why I do this, you know? Thatβs why I care so much about what other people do, pushing them forwards once they have a goal, even if that means pushing them off a ledge.β Like Emma, who wasnβt ready yet to face the horrors of their current lives. Like Callan, who couldnβt deal with the implications that her superhuman body didnβt make her superhuman. Like Angelic, who he had inspired to continually rewrite herself, when her own will wasnβt nearly as broken as his own. βI have nothing, so all I want is to support others, who do have things they love and things they hate. I want to see them at their end goals, and if possible, to bask in that sense of achievement a bit.β
His smiles were the same as always, but there was a darkness there, swirling in his eyes as he rambled on towards the ceiling, knowing that something was going to break, that something was going to give.
βThatβs why I go out of my way so much to help you, Siena. You have something I lack as well, something unique, and all Iβm good for is helping you along there. Itβs likeβ¦you know? βA toolβs only useful if itβs usedβ.β A quick breath. A transient eternity. βWhat else can I do?β
It was swirling in his eyes too much now, so he closed them.
βSorry, Iβm rambling and I havenβt even answered your question directly. What I think of myself?β
He envisioned sitting inside one of the Charger Hellcats, the heat on, every window closed, the muffler plugged, until the carbon monoxide dulled his thoughts and killed him.
βI think Iβd rather be anyone else.β
Too far. That was another bridge burned. Should have thought more about it after all. Honesty was honestly horrible.
Siena listened, certainly, but her eyes peered for more than simple words. Searched for traces of emotions that she might be able to identify--was she really so useless without knowing how to manipulate?--and utilize at first, but as Brent spoke, the girl found herself less intent on her search, found that the words were familiar. So she peered at Brent with a quiet, stoic mask. Better not to see what the words did, better not to let on how far back she had to push everything so she could just listen. That was what she was better at, wasn't it?
And when he had finished, the mask slipped away, and she was left a child that was too young and listening to too much again. A child sitting prim and proper on a seat while Maya carefully did her hair, explained in quiet whispers what Siena had seen. What she had understood correctly and what she had misunderstood.
"Don't call yourself that." And something did break. A quiet, hurt tone that she couldn't hide. She didn't want to remember, those moments were too real. She couldn't do anything but accept that they had happened. They were real.
Once, she had looked him in the eye and forced him to tell the truth. Not Siena then, she had told herself, but since when had she drawn such stark distinctions between Ilsa and herself?
She took a deep breath, felt it shudder despite her best efforts to hold it steady. She held back the childish tantrum that wanted to shatter what remained of the dam that held everything in. No, she was better than that now. Siena knew that, but that didn't stop her from wanting to do it. How would it feel? If she shouted until someone listened to her? If she could do exactly what she had done then? No...she had to take a step back. It hadn't worked last time, it wouldn't work this time.
"Christ, you really are just like him." Calm yourself. "You haven't found a passion, so you reach the conclusion that you're empty?"
"Coward! You can't find something you care about, so you decide you're not worth anything? What the hell kind of reasoning is that?" She had shouted, her hands slamming hard against the solid oak of the table as her temper flared, heat rising, searing everything else inside until it backed away. "That's bullshit! You just don't want to risk not liking what you see if you decide there is something in there."
"It's not...it's not that simple."
"Yeah," Brent replied, opening his eyes once more, "Sorry to disappoint, but you have every right to be wary about me."
Nothing lingered in his eyes anymore, and he shifted forwards once more, elbows resting on the table. Strange, how even now, after peeling back the exterior to reveal the apathetic mind that rested within, the arbiter couldn't find himself capable of really...caring. No, that wasn't right. Her disbelief, her rejection, it all stung. But that was it. Just pinpricks.
She hadn't gone for the throat, hadn't tried to tear out his heart.
"Do you say that, though, because you've been there before?" A pause. No pause. "Or are you saying what you wanted to say in the past, to that other person?"
His eyes were clear. An empty, lifeless lake.
"If it's not that simple, what is it?"
Siena didn't hesitate when she saw the empty gaze.
He'd looked back at her with that same look when she'd dragged the truth from his mouth. Had been in a daze when her voice demanded what his own had not wanted to give.
"Both." The word was clear, and the brunette didn't know whether it was anger, concern, or legitimate bravery that kept it as so. She didn't tear her gaze away. She had said what she wanted to in the past, had burned one bridge while forming another, but that hadn't changed anything. It didn't mean a damn thing when it had come from her then, someone whose emptiness had been forged because she had tried too hard to please. Would he have been proud?
"So you don't have a passion yet, maybe you don't want to acknowledge that there is one. I can't speak for you." She didn't let herself flinch. Made herself keep pushing forward because this was why she was there, wasn't it? She could see the familiar look of apathy, and felt an uncomfortable apprehension creep up her spine. Familiar in more ways than one. You couldn't help him, you can't help this one either.Shut. Up. "But if you were empty, you wouldn't still be here. You, no, Brent is still the one sitting here." She felt a flash of anger, repressed it. An instinctive, frustrated desire to lash out at someone that couldn't find the value in what they had, what they were. The brunette knew better than to give in to the desire to do so.
Brent's still the one sitting here? The meaningless, perfect smile persisted.
Hah, there was a fire there after, huh? Through the fractures of the mask she wore, he could see it boiling, a maelstrom of emotions, a past that mattered. He was flattered, even, that she'd go out of her way to convince him otherwise, to get so worked up when his past experiences with her had been so controlled. Siena was revealing something he didn't have, a geniune...something. He couldn't, shouldn't identify it. Didn't have the right to. He'd never have the right, not if he still felt nothing when she spoke such words.
Not when all it did was chip away a little at his exterior.
"I'm not completely empty then," Brent replied, "Let's say I messed up with defining that. Let's say I do, indeed, have some degree of identity. But that's all. It's still not enough. A few droplets in a cup doesn't mean it's full, doesn't mean it's worth anything. It doesn't even matter if I have everything else, a fully formed list of likes and dislikes, a whole array of catchphrases and quotes, a whole battalion of friends and enemies."
Even now he could hear those words. Doesn't matter.
"As long as there's a gaping hole in which nothing fits, it doesn't matter. No amount of rhetoric can fix that."
And then, it slipped out. Involuntarily. Darkly.
"If you want me to act as a replacement for that other person though, I'd be fine with it."
Calm down. Calm down. CALM DOWN.
She could no more calm herself than she could put out a forest fire with a spray bottle of ethanol. Each attempt seemed to stoke the flames, had the inferno devour everything in its path until it was the only emotion that remained. White hot, a blinding sense of outrage that she wasn't unfamiliar with. It's been a long time, hm? Long enough that she'd forgotten what it was like, at least, for that unpleasant side to burn. Calm down. Calm down.
'Such a temper. Who did you pick that up from?'
"No." The word itself was calm, steady, it betrayed nothing of the hellstorm that brewed just beneath the surface, waiting for its chance to boil over. Calm down.
She had observed and imitated what she could, pulled on the back of his shirt and displayed it proudly, only to get a pitying expression followed by one of muted horror, and she could read it on his face. What had he done?
"You can't replace him." A vicious, brutal part of her wanted to scream, to turn his words back on him. How could someone that called themselves empty replace anyone? She swallowed the words, but they were like fire all the way down, scalded and seared everything. Burn it away until nothing will grow. Calm down. She tried, to no avail, to do as she commanded. A gaping hole where nothing fit. "Nothing fits? Have you even tried?" This wasn't calm, and though Siena tried to back away from the boiling tide, she couldn't escape it. Couldn't pretend that it wasn't as much a part of her as the white mark on her face. "You can't fill a void by pretending to be someone else. It doesn't work like that."
The sea continued to boil, threatening to overflow. Please, calm down.
"All those things that you've tried to find passion in, did you do any of them for yourself?"
Had he even tried? Did Siena spend so much time with her eyes glued to the screen of her Kindle that she didn't notice all the things he learned and continued to learn? A bitterness surfaced on the roof of his mouth, a sensation he hadn't tasted in a while. More cracks, more fractures, and still, the stimuli was lacking. He knew that it would be better to defuse the situation, to admit, perhaps falsely, that no, he didn't really try, and no, he didn't do it for himself.
But that was also wrong.
And she had ignored the other possibility. Didn't consider the other option. That he hadn't given up yet, that he still saw this only as a temporary status. That he killed his present self every morning in hopes that his reincarnation was something more. Did she have an answer past that point? Did she have an answer to the Brent that continued to amass skills for his own benefit, that supported others only to take a little bit of their strength for himself?
There was a storm brewing there, a storm reflected in that amethyst gaze that remained resolutely, stubbornly empty regardless of what meaning she tried to burn into it.
"Of course I did." A hard edge. "I've done everything for myself. I've learned to aim and shoot handguns, I've learned to climb, I've learned to cook, I've learned to drink, I've learned to fold origami, I've learned to kickbox, I've learned how to play DDR, I've learned how to do that shuffle-dance you see in night clubs, I've learned how to drive a cart, I've learned how to kill. And I've still planning on learning new things. I'm going to learn how to make pastries, I'm going to learn how to play musical instruments properly, I'm going to learn how to paint, I'm going to learn how to fish, I'm going to learn how to hunt, I'm going to learn how to use a knife properly in close quarters."
A breath. Deep and relaxed. "And that only encompasses the things I've learned since coming to USARILN. I've spent twelve years picking up a whole menagerie of things. I stargaze, I hike, I karaoke, I kayak, I waterski, I bike, I watch documentaries, I play Ultimate, I work out, I edit videos, I meme, I dispense love advice, I organize events, I act, I rollerblade, I pray, I review restaurants, I babysit, I teach elementary school kids, I track budgets, I make props, I boulder, I do all that and more."
Don't compare me to some sheltered bitch drunk on delusions.
"Do you think I'd let any of these skills, any of these experiences rot just because I don't feel anything for it? Do you think it detracts for the value of these skills just because I use them to help others? Do you think I've given up, Siena? Do you think I want to stay empty?" Bones were popping. The blood was quickening.
"Let me ask you again. This gaping, empty hole that remains unplugged. Do you have it still? Have you lived with it your entire life? Have you managed to fill it yet? Have you spent your waking hours trying to fill it all up?"
He had stopped smiling. It was twisting again. For an arbiter, he really was shitty, huh?
"Help me, Siena. And if you don't want to do that, bury me."
Did he think she would back down?
"Don't fuck with me." Words that belonged to her, words that weren't hers--the line was blurred a long time ago. Empty, meaningless tasks, and he still thought they were for him. She didn't flinch, felt the rest of that prim and proper bitch try to rise up and take control.
'No.'
"Do you honestly think any of those things were done for you and not whatever the fuck this is trying to pretend it's you?" The words were harder than she was used to hearing from her own mouth. A lifetime to sand off the hard edges that she couldn't remember being born with, and it was all coming apart. "You want me to be honest? Yeah, that hole, as you keep calling it? I still have it. I tried doing what you're doing now, and it didn't help. I tried to fill it by being more names than I can remember, and it made it worse. Do you really think who you're talking to now is the person I was before? Stupid little Siena Harker, who never got to exist?"
STEP BACK, LITTLE HARKER.
'No.'
"I did everything I could to fill it, I still do. When we're out fighting, when we're here, when I'm alone and trying to remember who the fuck I am, I can't afford to stop trying because almost everything that I was, everything that I ever will be has been ripped away by people that don't even exist." She'd torn her heart out and left it to die. How many times had she done it? Once? Twice? A hundred times? "But someone is still here, and I can work with that if I don't let myself look away from what I don't want to see."
The fire grew. Whose fire was it? Hers? Her mother's? Gerwulf's? Or maybe it was any of the names she'd stolen once before. Ilsa, Katherine, Kel, Holland, Victor.
"So tell me, Brent, all those skills and experiences, when you stop gaining them, what then? What do you do when you run out of things to do? Will you stop skimming everything then, or will you find another excuse to say that nothing fits so you can keep looking for something to distract you?" The torrent was rising, crashing against a feeble dam that couldn't hold when it was being assaulted by so much. The Santana in her said to quiet down, to apologize and be proper, but the Harker refused to listen. "Tell me, because I want to help."
She didn't falter. Didn't stop.
Are you satisfied now, little Harker?
"Tell me, because I won't let you get closer to becoming me."
It struck him harder than a slap in the face, when Siena finally tore off her mask to spit pure venom, laying bare her own thoughts, own traumas, own life. Struck him so hard because it was so clear now. Oh god. It was too late. They really were too close already. Birds of a feather flock together. Likes repel. Harker. Roless. Holy shit.
It was surfacing now, and he couldn't stop it, peals of hyena-like laughter rushing out of him as his smile finally turned into that predatorial, fanged sneer he held when he was alone in Wisford.
This was too much. This was too hilarious. This was too, much too excruciating.
"You don't see it, Harker? You don't feel it already?" The arbiter, no, the boy, stood up from his seat, the silver blood with him boiling in ecstasy and agony. "You don't know yet, do you? Superficial the differences that remain are? Come on, you read, don't you? Say it out loud, Harker! What does 'Roless' sound like? We both don't exist, huh? We're just two unwanted phantoms, bearing names too heavy for our small, pitiful, bullshit selves to carry!"
"You find solace in names, in powers, in the people who you take from the books. I find solace in skills, in objects, in things without a thought and a voice of their own! And we both have such mind-blowing, incomprehensible versatility because we don't have ourselves!" His voice boomed, jubilant, mad, hands stretched out to the side. Embracing this revulsion that stained his tongue with poison. "I don't think about 'what then'! I think about 'what's next'! The summit I've chosen is ridiculously high, and subnatural I am now isn't going to survive that climb. Why else would I plunge headlong into danger, while everyone else wants to run?!"
Rein himself in? He didn't need that now. A flick of the wrist and he felt the heat rush up his brain, felt the poison making his heart beat.
"I improve myself, kill myself every day. If one day it doesn't make me better, it'll kill me. And I'm fine with that."
A last plea? A last wish? A last miracle? No, it was nothing pretty or pitiful like that.
"I can't stop myself, and I can't help myself, cause I don't think I'm worth all that effort."
Just a final truth, by a boy without a family.
"If you're going to help me, you're gonna have to force me."
And that predatorial smirk became too painful to hold any longer.
"So come on, Harker. Show me your fangs."
She didn't know what broke, something did. Hers? His? The words cut, but not as much as the name. Harker. Each time Brent said it, the brand pressed deeper, searing until it left its mark, made her remember what she wasn't anymore. Siena Harker, Siena Santana. Somewhere, far beyond the haze of heat, a quiet voice wondered how long it had been since anyone had called her Harker. A quiet voice wondered where Roless was.
Where are you now?
He wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right. There were too many things in between for him to be either, but that didn't stop it from rending into her. Finally, past the outside, and this was what the payoff was, said the proper girl. Finally, something out of him, said the fire that reached with outstretched fingers, ravenous for more kindling. It wasn't the same kind of feeling when her need to know ate at her.
But all those words, and none managed to sink into her flesh like the last.
Show me your fangs.
He stepped too close, pushed her back with a hard motion that made her stagger, tore her eyes up from the floor where they had been for too many minutes, a tranquil anger in his expression, a hard edge on his words. Siena looked up, met emerald eyes and an expression she hadn't seen before. So many faces, but she'd never seen him angry.
"If someone pushes you around, you fight back, damn it!"
She was pushed back another few steps, her back hitting the wall, the eyes boring further in. Past Santana, past Harker.
Show me your fangs.
Siena rose to her feet, eyes still grey, but blinded by something that wasn't just the inferno that lingered. The stack of books toppled with the abrupt motion, fell in a haphazard heap onto the table like a broken tower, and then went unnoticed by the brunette. Too close. Too much. She grit her teeth, felt the ocean boil over and scald every part of her it touched. Too far gone, too close to home. He wanted fangs? Fine.
A quick motion, practiced and trained--once, she had landed it badly. Had to wrap her fingers together and felt as though she'd disappointed him--but the fist wasn't angled to where she should have aimed it. Not to the jaw--too much for too little payoff in showing her fangs. Just a bit higher, a controlled attack that spoke for more than her words could.
A burst of light, a flash of pain, and his head snapped back, two steps taken, retreating from the force of the blow. There was a grace there, a fluidity that didn't make sense for someone who was just a sheltered bookworm...but that wasn't what Harker was, was it? He wanted to taste that, and he did, the sharpness of the initial strike turned into a dull burn that throbbed and throbbed.
It'd been a while since he took such a hit.
You're sick.
His own fists clenched, the nostalgia and the disgust fusing together. The boy's jaw clicked. Not enough yet. He didn't go this far just for half-measures and warning shots.
"That the best you got?! Angelic hits harder than that with her words alone!"
One heavy kick drove his foot into the edge of the table, flipping it forwards and upwards. A part of him didn't want to break anything, but another part knew that this wasn't going to end without breaking things.
'He's stronger than you.' Siena didn't have to let the thought complete to know that. She had given up any chance of that kind of raw strength when she chose to accept herself as Santana. Her body was moving as soon as the table started shifting its position, the sound of a heavy blow not entirely registering as Siena pushed back, her chair hitting the floor, the sound of her sanctuary falling apart, books falling like debris to the ground.
She couldn't clear it before it rose to greet her.
The table hit with an unsurprising amount of force, enough to push her back, enough to have her feet catch in the legs of the fallen chair and send her for the floor--or it would have, if her muscles hadn't remembered how to manage. She shifted her weight, redirected the momentum into a roll that had her hitting another set of chairs, but the girl was back on her feet just a split second faster with the roll, and the barrier that had separated the two was overturned. A dull ache spread where the table had managed to make contact--probably enough to bruise--but it only drew the faintest trace of a cool smile that didn't match with the fire. Real.
"No place for words here, right?" Are you satisfied, little Harker? Forward she went, closing the distance, teeth clenched and a low kick aimed, again, just off the mark.
She rolled with it. Of course she did. If Harker fell over after something as useless as that, then he'd really have just been fighting Santana all along. Only a few seconds in, and the library was already a mess, chairs strewn on the floor while books laid in disarray. The sharper, more rational part of him told him he should move this outside, that he was just being a brat, but it didn't matter all that much at all.
Brent was just a boy, in the end.
"Hella right," he replied, closing the distance as she did. His amethyst eyes, wide and wild, caught the shift in her front leg as it blurred into a low kick, and Brent bent it in response, leg muscles becoming taut. Another dull pain, bursting out into his calf, caused his own knuckles to tighten until they were bone-white, a full force left straight cannonballing into Siena's chest. Was she still taking this easy? Was it that hard to aim for his knee?
C'mon, you can't stop anyone with just that much determination.
Fuck.
A hollow sound accompanied the impact of Brent's fist, the force sending Siena staggering back. The ache wasn't sharp, a bruising pain that spread before prickling out into a static-like numbness. He's not holding back.'No shit.' She coughed, more to clear what breath had caught at the surprise of impact, and the fire burned hotter. It wasn't the worst hit she'd ever taken, but it wasn't one that she could expect to take a second time at full force.
Fuck, don't just stand there.
But she needed the moment to breathe, to regain herself, and her body refused to fully listen. A distant throb reminded her. Real.
"Fuck, don't just stand there," Brent grimaced, shaking out his hand, "What the hell are you made of, Harker, sugar and feather down?"
A grimace when movement reignited the pain, something else behind the grimace that reared its ugly head. Real. That was how she remembered, wasn't it?
"Ngh...don't wanna hear that from someone who can't throw a proper punch." But shit, that had hurt more than she'd expected. Another breath was all it took for her to remember how to move again, once again closing the distance, pushing to get closer than before, the motion to attack starting too late for a real punch.
Well, it wasn't one.
Her arm drew up, thumb tucked to the chest, the sharp point of an elbow exposed for an instant before she struck, the movement prepared to drive through to the solar plexus.
Another jab? Or a haymaker this time? A kick, even?
"Don't say that when you g-"
It was neither. An elbow strike, performed with the rotation of the hip, so that the sharpest, boniest point could smash into the center of his chest. Couldn't counterpunch this. Didn't understand in time to block. Oh shit!
An instinctive jerk caused it to strike the left side of his chest instead, a heavy impact almost knocking him flat on his ass. He had traded a crippling blow for a devastating one, every instinct in his body telling him to fold over and gasp for air. But he had built himself up stronger than that, and expecting Harker to be kind enough to not follow-through was sheer idiocy. The same idiocy that drove his blood to boiling, the same that had caused him to egg her on to begin with.
His heart pounded in his ribs, as he dropped himself into a tackle, lunging forward with arms raised upfront.
Resilient bastard. Brent was quick to react, had turned away from something that would have kept any normal person down, and was quick to react. If Siena hadn't been struggling with her own breath, she might have been able to redistribute her weight in time to step back for a counter, but her body demanded air before it would move like she wanted it to, and only one leg managed to step back, barely managed to twist her elbow to try and keep some distance.
It didn't work--like trying to stop a damn boulder from getting too close, even with every technique in the book to ground her.
'Oh, shi--' She tried to reach to crank the neck up and away, force the body to listen, but her hands didn't find purchase, didn't even manage to reach hair before the stomach twisting sensation of falling took over. Bad. Her body twisted, hit the ground with a shoulder instead of her head, but that didn't stop the impact from making her vision swing out of focus for an instant. Bad...!
Down didn't mean out.
She grit her teeth, tried to swing for the side of Brent's head. Jaw, behind the ear, anything that might daze the boy.
Even Brent was surprised at how far he drove her before the two of them tumbled onto the ground. Light. She was so light. Despite all her fury, despite all her technique, despite all her surprises, Siena Santana, Siena Harker, whoever she was at the moment was too...light. But the two of them were on the ground once more, bodies pressed against each other, the warmth, the heat, blazing and beating like asphalt on a summer day. There was something there. Something that didn't belong. Something that wasn't his. Something different from the dream that pulled him down that path.
Their physical differences was almost insurmountable, but she fought back regardless, and he responded regardless.
Harker was dangerous now.
Left forearm out, cutting the path of the swing short, decisively swatting it away.
Right fist clenched, a jab right to the nose.
Disorientate. Debilitate. Decimate.
Early mornings with Angelic flowed back in, drills and exercises turned to destructive force as he continued on. This wasn't DC. She wouldn't be nearly as easy as the crusher mage and their gelatinous companion.
Stars exploded in her vision, little more than blots of vibrant color that flashed in wavering stability. Eyes watering, the pinprick sensation shooting through her skull, a thousand lances that caught the back of her throat. Fuckfuckfuck! Siena couldn't keep herself from flinching at the impact, didn't taste copper--at least she didn't bleed. The second hit didn't jar as badly as the first, but it was more than enough for instinct to kick into gear. Logically, the fight might as well have been over. Logically, she would have drawn the parallel to countless failed attempts to escape the same scenario--in case you need it--but logic couldn't win when she couldn't give up.
A blurred movement through the mist of pain, and Siena was in action again.
'Nullify potential attacks before you try a reversal this time.'
Chest hurts.
She tried to push herself up, head turned toward the incoming jab--'Makes them hit wide of the target.'--arms moving to try and wrap around. Pull the attacker close, try to remember all the moving parts to make the flip. Siena wasn't sure she could.
You're gonna have to force me.
She had to try. Hook, overhook, buck and push--something seemed to give with the extra leverage. It worked? It had never worked before, but the thought didn't have time to clear before a louder one screamed at the top of its lungs. GET UP. She couldn't hold that position, but everything felt so heavy. The fire kept burning, but her breath was running out. Shit.
Fast and fluid. A technique he had not had the pleasure of being on the other side of, executed quickly enough that Brent's mind couldn't keep up with the physics involved until their positions were reversed, Harker on top, her gray eyes a storm that was...
...weakening.
He wasn't blind. She was too light, too tired, and never, ever nourished enough for this. It had only been two days since DC, and compared to him, she had used her power much more than he had. By all accounts, Brent was more or less cheating, picking on someone so much smaller than him while they still hadn't had the chance to recover fully from a previous trial. By all accounts, winning like this would leave only a bad taste in his mouth.
But she was still burning. But he was still burning.
"C'mon Harker, aren't you more than this?" Her body pushing against his, he could feel it clearly, how light she was. Unfair. But he swung with all his might anyways, an unfocused, wild right hook. Blocked, but the force alone was still enough to push her off.
"You're more than some sheltered bitch that never got to live!"
He pushed himself up as she did, rushing forward into a bodyslam.
The floor again--she was getting sick of being down. Pushing herself to her feet was the easy part, but easy was only relative to the effort of having to move again after. Siena could feel herself slowing down, knew that she couldn't afford to slow down when Brent was there, rushing at her. Taking the hit wasn't an option, she'd tried and failed once already, and that hadn't been all the weight available.
Move.
He's faster than you. No shit, but that didn't mean to stand there and take the damn hit. She felt her body try to move for any space that was open, anywhere to try and squeeze past without breaking his momentum by taking the impact. Too slow. All that managed to alleviate was the barest fraction of force. Nothing in the big picture. Her feet left the ground, again the sensation of falling, again, she steeled herself.
Another impact that was too light, too soft as he slammed into Harker, the woman tumbling onto the library floor once more. Another tinge of pity, of sympathy, squashed by the heat that burned inside, the recognition that she was still alive.
"You're more than some wallflower bookworm that never got to breathe!"
No mercy. Only push and push and push! Thundering steps brought Brent in range for a great leap, past the scattered books and toppled chairs, two feet ready to stomp down on the woman who was down, but not, definitely not, out.
That will kill you.
No shit.
Siena felt herself rolling out of the way, moving for a recovery, making it to her feet faster than ever in the stark moment of knowing how dangerously close that was. Head spinning, vision only clearing where she focused, but the Arbiter tried to let the last vestiges of adrenaline fuel the fire. Burn, damn it.
"This isn't about me, goddamn it!" She threw another punch, couldn't focus her aim enough to trust anything smaller than center mass.
It struck dead centre, a blow that could have been blocked, dodged, countered, but wasn't. She was burning out while he was still at full force, but even running on mere fumes, there was a weight beyond that, greater than her weight and strength.
Admirable. Shit, whoever she thought she was, Brent couldn't help but be impressed.
"For me, it is," Brent replied, that razor sharp intensity in his eyes once again, "Doesn't matter whether you're Harker, Santana, or any other identity you've scrounged together. You're 1000% greater than them combined!"
A left straight followed, the same that crumpled her previously, filled with an unnatural ferocity and an unspoken hope.
It came again, but she didn't flinch. Moved into it, grimaced at the impact, but didn't feel it quite so much. A whirlwhind, a storm, a fire--she couldn't identify it quickly enough. Only that it was overwhelming as she reached for something, anything for purchase.
"What good is that if I can't help you?!" Ferocity. No, not that. Something beyond that, but she couldn't tell. Harker burned out, reduced Santana to crackling ash, left something that she couldn't recognize through the heavy breaths and the aches that reminded her over and over again with each pulse. Real.
She hadn't even flinched this time, standing there even as exhausted as she should have been after taking so much punishment. Hadn't flinched, and remained steadfast in the face of all of this.
Such bullheaded stubbornness. If he had aimed a blow to the face, she probably would have head butted his fist.
But he couldn't figure out how to answer that question. Even after laying bare the ugliest parts of themselves, it's not like they got anywhere. Just a bunch of idiots pretending to be smart while bashing their heads against each other's walls. Brent shook his head, chuckling in spite of the fact his jaw throbbed when he did. Pulling up a toppled chair, he slid it over to Siena before grabbing one of his own, plopping down.
"We're both hella messed up, huh?"
If she could have been more graceful than all but collapsing into the chair, she would have, but that was too much to ask when everything hurt and all the kindling she had to offer burned itself out. If Siena could have laughed, she might have. The best she could manage was a few breaths that might have passed. Fuck, that hurt.
"I think that might be an understatement." A grimace as she breathed too deep and the fresh bruises screamed in protest. Shouldn't have taken so many hits, but the girl managed a restrained fascimile of a laugh on her second attempt. "A'least we've--ow--got each other."
"Hah," Brent wheezed, a lopsided grin forming, "An aficionado of buddy films too?"
"Ugh..." The laugh still hurt, the returned smile despite the words easier to manage. "I should punch you again for that."
"And break your hand against my jaw?"
"Ouch, consider my pride wounded," Siena claimed while pushing her bangs out of her face, fingers catching in newly formed tangles as she did so. Her pride and about every other part of her, really. The girl pushed herself upright, the throbbing reminding her with more vigor than before. Real. Something else stirred, uncomfortable and familiar, but there was no Santana to trample it underfoot. No Harker to vehemently deny it, just Siena left behind, unable to justify it. You're not supposed to care. She grinned, mischief lightly coating the action like a fine powder. "I think I can break my hand on something a little better than that."
"Don't worry," Brent laughed, reaching for a drink that wasn't there, "Pretty sure you can take down any other guy with those moves. That reversal was sorta mindblowing."
He coughed a couple more times, smacking a hand against his chest to get that lump out. A 'harrumph' cleared his throat handily, right in time for him to sputter again at Siena's...joke? What? Temporarily bamboozled at how terrible of a 'joke' that was, Brent arced an eyebrow, replying, "What would that be? A block of gold? I'll have you know my jaw's pretty high value."
"High value?" The brunette gave a cheeky grin before struggling to her feet. Just about every part of her found a reason to hate the action. Everything tastes like ouch. Could be worse. "You appraise that yourself or something?"
"Naturally," he stated, "But if you doubt my appraisal, go ahead."
"Inviting a rich girl for appraisal...awfully confident." Still, it wasn't as if there wasn't something to be gained from it. Carefully, with the same delicacy she would have approached a book on the verge of crumbling to dust, the girl reached toward his right side, where she'd initially struck. A cautious, featherlight touch where she remembered knuckles meeting flesh, eyes trained more for signs that it would bruise than any actual judgement.
'Well, it's sturdy.' Even if her punch had landed just a bit wide of real impact, it didn't seem like it had taken any exceptional damage. Surprising.
Not exactly the most striking feature there though, right? Hard to compare something as mundane as a jawline to a striking eye color--or maybe it was the look? She didn't quite know. Only knew that she hid her own because she didn't like when others could see that her eyes weren't the ones watching.
"Well, I guess a bruise is supposed to be manly."
Wait, was she actu-
"Doesn't that mean you're manlier than me now?" he teased, burying surprise and embarrassment with wit, "Bet there's gonna be a whole tapestry in the morning. Still..."
His gaze left hers, sweeping across the library that had been trashed during their little tussle.
"...how's that honesty thing feel?"
Satisfied with what little evaluation she could make on the most visible injury, Siena withdrew her hand as her attention followed where Brent's had gone. It was quite a mess to clean up.
"Like getting punched. A lot." A little more literal than most answers, but it certainly wasn't wrong. "Surprisingly, not that bad."
A pause as she lightly scratched her cheek with one hand, taking in the overturned furniture and scattered books.
"It does cause a bit of a mess though..."
"Might be an understatement here," he chuckled, "But sounds about right."
A pause. A recollection. What was he here for again? Right, confirmation.
"Can I trust you, 'ena?"
Trusting her. It sounded so foreign to her ears, sounded strange to even consider. Santana, Harker, whatever remnant they left behind when both were burned away.
But it had remained, a fearless confirmation beyond the doubts she'd carried. What good is that if I can't help you? It had remained after everything else had been reduced to ash.
She turned her gaze back to Brent, grey eyes settling on the boy. Grey eyes. Her eyes.
Siena had debated on the message for hours after replacing the battery in her phone, her mind a tempest that threatened to drown her. The words didn't bring comfort, nor did they really elicit a reaction that Siena knew how to categorize. She knew better than to ignore the message though, knew better than to let it sit for as long as it already had. Knew better than to keep the sender waiting. The girl brushed her hair out of her eyes, stared at her phone for a moment longer. She had to call him, said the part of her that knew she'd delayed for long enough. It had been days since the message was sent, and who knew how many hours since she'd seen it. Settling at the entrance of her room, Siena wondered briefly if she should find somewhere more isolated, but she sincerely doubted that anywhere was going to be much safer.
At least with the door open just a crack, there would be a quick way out to find somewhere, anywhere, to get away if she had to.
Her fingers tapped the call icon and listened to the rings, each one making a vice grow tighter around her chest until she felt like she might suffocate from the pressure. She wanted to cancel the call, to hang up before anyone could answer, but she waited, as though frozen in place. She felt her breath come short, and she held it when one ring was finally cut short. Please.
The plea was not answered.
"Siena."
"You...you asked me to call...?"
"I see you've made some appearances on the news." The deep voice was cool and calm. Something familiar and altogether unsettling fell over her shoulders like a heavy drape. This wasn't the voice she knew. This wasn't what she was used to hearing. Siena felt her breath catch in her throat for an instant as she took a soft breath, hopefully quiet enough so that it wouldn't be noticed. "Quite the show, diving through a building. What was it they called you? Sylph?"
"I...yes, sir." She still didn't know how to react.
"Don't do anything that pathetic again. Subnatural or not, you're a Santana." Siena flinched at the words. Subnatural and Santana. Not Siena. "But I suppose I have to applaud you for finding a use for yourself."
Something was wrong here. The image that settled in her head and the voice that was speaking in her ear didn't coincide despite coming from the same person. Siena furrowed her brow, felt heat rising through her chest, up to her throat until she didn't trust herself to speak. Something didn't match up, and she wasn't sure which memory was wrong. Siena didn't know if she wanted to know, but something scalded her like heated metal up against her neck when she considered trying to find out. There was one she wanted to be right, and if it was wrong...
"A use...?" Barely audible, but Siena didn't have herself falter. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You're a subnatural. A leg in the door, so to speak." As though he could sense the impending question, the man continued speaking, allowing no time for Siena to recover from the statement. A leg in the door? "Prove yourself useful on the field. If you can make a name for yourself, we'll benefit from it too."
It stung deep, but she knew the answer.
"I understand." A pause as she hesitated. "Papa...?"
"Siena." Unforgiving. She was wrong.
"...father. Forgive me." With a single word, the memories fell back into place, the hazy ones of a father that cared slipping through her fingers, no longer a reality that she clung to, but a memory that was wrong again. Like Emily--was that even the name that the sister had taken? Or was it Elizabeth? Emma? Elaine?--was just an event to fit the emotions she could no longer discern. Hers? A mark's? Did she really think it mattered? "You were hoping to have a subnatural in your family?"
"Not exactly, but having a monster in the bloodline will do wonders for the Santanas."
"I-I...I see. It would...be a strong move. You don't need to publically accept a subnatural, but you can still demonstrate control over it." The rationality was blindingly obvious. It hurt her less than it should have. "If you can control a monstrosity that looks human, then people will flock to your company in droves."
That was the line that caused Marcus to stop in his tracks. There were a few things nowadays that immediately caught his attention when they were said, if only for his own self-preservation. The words 'subnatural' and 'control' utilized in the same sentance was one of those triggers, irregardless of the speaker. It was a sad truth, but after everything that had happened in D.C, Marcus was running a little low on trust...for anybody.
The plaque that shown on the door was a name he wished had been any other; Siena. The girl who he'd betrayed back in the ruins, sending her into a full-fledged meltdown because it had been what he thought was right. He felt guilt, and he felt remorse, but none of that had changed his justification - a theme that hung over the incident as a whole.
He didn't know her resources. He didn't know her background. Only that she was rich and not super willing to talk about it. He certainly didn't know how much he could trust her, or how much she trusted him.
And, as he waited outside the door listening intently, he learned that she probably trusted him too much.
"Good," said the head of the Santana family. Siena could practically see the sickly sweet smile spread over his face, though the features were starkly out of place on the image she created in her head. Features she didn't quite know how to age, or maybe it was the rest that she hadn't aged properly. "So Maya did manage to teach you something."
"But I belong to USARILN now. I--"
"Surrendered yourself, correct? I heard from Maya. Needless to say, if the public asks, we will tell them it was at our command." Another spire in her chest. She couldn't breathe. It was not merely a statement, it was a demand. One that Siena couldn't bring herself to turn down despite everything saying that she should. "Do good work out there, Siena. There may be a use for you yet."
"Yes, father."
Marcus's heart twisted in his stomach. The forceful tone and wording, as if someone was talking to a pet. That much made him angry enough to want to kick the door down, and tell the man on the other end exactly where he could shove his commands. Even if they weren't on speaking (or even trusting) terms, he still cared about his classmates. If there was one thing he'd proven in D.C, it was that he wasn't afraid to defend them.
Siena's reply twisted his emotions completely. Rage simmered down to cloying pity so fast, it nearly left Marcus in a state of perplexed confusion. 'Father'. Someone who was supposed to be a role model - a hero. To be such a...scummy prick. He was physically sad for the poor girl.
"Oh, and...do try to be a little more dignified if you're going to be caught on camera. Your mother was sorely disappointed in your appearance." Siena flinched at the mention of her mother. Were those more memories that didn't align properly? She remembered two versions of her mother. One that was warm, like the image she'd created of her father, and one that was...cold. Relentless. Part of the mage wondered if they were simply the same person with different masks on, but everything was unstable. She was too afraid to push further, too afraid to lose what little footing she could still muster.
"Father...?" A silence that begged the completion of the sentence. She wasn't worth the words. "How did you get my contact information?"
"Simple." She could imagine that predatory smile again, like a cat toying with its prey. "I only had to ask that cur you call a butler for it."
No. No, that was a lie. Siena felt her heart sieze, as though it had forgotten how to beat. Gerwulf? An icy feeling pierced through her, a thousand needles that made her nerves sing with devastation. A sharp, cutting agony that she couldn't recognize as anything but betrayal. She'd felt it plenty of times in the past few days...and her father, someone whose mastery of people ran well beyond what Maya was capable of, knew in an instant.
"Don't forget, he was there because I had him placed there." Right...it was so easy to forget when both Maya and Gerwulf had been constant presences in her life. The only ones she could really speak of. "And he knows that while you may not be expendable yet, he certainly is." A pause to let everything sink in, to permeate Siena's mind with doubts. "Good night, Siena."
"Good night, fa--!"
He didn't wait for a response before he hung up, and Siena slowly brought the phone away from her face, staring at a message screen devoid of anything but a single order and a call notification. Her fingers hovered over the buttons that would take her from that conversation to another. One where she could get answers and...
...she needed air.
Quietly, Siena dragged herself from her position, the shift not significant given her decision to linger near the door. A few strides, a quick motion to open the door, and--
'Wh-What?'
Someone was at her door, someone was at her door! Alarms raised as Siena took an attempt at a half step back, her vision seeking anything recognizeable. It took a moment for the features to match to a face. "Marcus?!" That was certainly him looking equally startled, like he might bolt at any second. How long had he been standing there? Grey eyes narrowed, darted from her phone and back to the boy. "What are you...?"
"Si-Siena!" Marcus stammered with surprised, one million volts of panic having immediately surged to his heart when the door swung open. "I-I-I was just...exploring the place! Big place! Lots of things around!"
Marcus was a very bad liar when he was startled.
"And...I...wanted to come check up on you! See how you were settling in right now! Because, hey; this must be like home to you!"
Oh no. Oh shit. Bad topic. Literally anything but that.
WHY ARE YOU SO DUUUUUMMMB!?.
About nine different red flags rose while twelve different alarms started going off in Siena's head. Marcus was lying--why? And he'd been outside her door, and why was he so startled about--
Like home...?
Siena couldn't hold back the flinch, recoiling faintly away from Marcus, her feet taking her a few inches back. Home. It was to some extent, but it wasn't the home that she wanted to remember. It was filled with servants, filled with people, and run by an absent authority. Like the home that she was reminded of. The brunette found herself at a loss for words briefly.
"S-sort of..." Her voice came out weak, barely above a whisper, and Siena could hardly believe it was coming from her mouth. She tried to correct it with the next phrase, then cursed herself when the words trembled, as though on the brink of breaking. "It's familiar."
"Shit- no...Siena..." Marcus said, his body forcing him a half step closer to her as she recoiled. "I...I-" he searched for the words, but there was nothing to find. Nothing in his repitoire to help this situation. His role as Morale Guardian had been completely blown out the water around the time he'd gotten Savannah killed, and now there was nothing to take it's place.
"I-I'm sorry..." he said faintly.
Why was he apologizing? The question was rhetorical because she knew. He'd heard something, maybe everything. She didn't know. Her eyes shot up at the close proximity, memories of having her phone in hand one moment and the screen going dark the next bearing down like a landslide. Despite her best efforts, the brunette felt herself instinctively trying to step back. She didn't manage to stop herself before the first inch, her position steadying itself after a moment.
"How....how much did you hear?" The mask didn't even have a chance to form, grey eyes only meeting her roommate's gaze for an instant before immediately darting away for anythig else to focus on.
"I-I didn't hear anything. I only just got to your door." Marcus stammered after a slight pause.
"You're really not a very good liar, Marcus." Words that lacked any real intonation. As if she as stating a fact , reciting it from a book of observations. She didn't make a move to look the boy in the eye. "So please don't lie about this."
Marcus sighed. He knew that. Yet, he still attempted to do it as if he'd eventually find someone dumb enough to take everything he said at face value.
"Something about controlling a subnatural. But I didn't even know it was you and I was just worried that Zhang or someone was plotting behind closed doors..."
"Oh." Somehow, the word felt hollow. "It's..." Siena hesitated. The brunette felt her hand going to her arm, nails digging into the skin, scarlet marks blooming underneath. "It's not like that." That was a total lie, and even she couldn't deny the words that had come out of her mouth. "...complicated." She didn't know if she could set the mask this time, so Siena didn't bother. Only kept her eyes turned down, away. Did he know who she was talking to? Of course he did, that was what caused the reaction to begin with.
"Or maybe it's not. I don't know."
"I gathered..." Marcus said bluntly, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. He desperately wanted to just leave, and his eyes dared to glance up at Siena for a brief second. A quick scan to see if there was anything in her face that said he could make his excuses and run off now, rather than sitting here like an animal caught in a trap.
The glance, Siena didn't notice for a moment. Not until she adjusted her gaze, to see what there was to read, only to see he was doing the same thing. A defensive instinct reared its head, and Siena immediately tore her eyes away, set her features into a neutral expression to hide what she wanted read despite knowing it was probably too late. It would have been easier to let him go. Let him pretend that nothing was wrong, that he hadn't heard anything.
But again the cold, sharp edge of betrayal bit into her flesh, this time eliciting a thorny self-defense mechanism.
"Don't...don't tell anyone." Just enough pain in her voice to elicit the image of a vulnerable girl. "About this. About what happened back at DC."
'What happened back at DC'. There were plenty of things that had happened back at DC, most of which he desperately hoped he never have to tell anybody. If he was telling people about some of the things that happened it wouldn't be a story; it'd be a confession. Of course, he knew exactly what it was she was referring to: the breakdown. Her apparent weakness being loss of material.
As much as he wanted to say that she needed to talk to somebody about that, he knew it was only hypocracy. Why should he pressure other people to fix their flaws and staunchly refuse to fix his own? Flaws and fears that had done more than leave him hyperventilating on the ground.
His eyes dared to search her face one more time, to judge how much damage he'd done. "Of course."
Eyes up, Siena.
She did so, caught the observant gaze, made sure that Marcus caught the motion, and quickly constructed the layers necessary. First, a flash of hurt--not pain. Hurt. Hurt was harder to justify. Hurt was harder to shrug off. Hurt meant that there was someone to blame. It didn't smooth out like she usually forced it to, instead leaving its mark behind on the next mask, the one that she made obvious was exactly that. A mask. A moment where she hesitated, made sure that said hesitation was broadcast.
But maybe her observations were wrong.
No. She doubted it.
One hand on the door, a quiet gaze sent to her phone. A perfectly painted look of conflict, as though contemplating on whether she'd made the right choice. Whether she should close the door--a faint motion, as though she was going to. A pause as she stopped. Another flash of uncertainty. The message Siena created should have been clear:
I don't know who to talk to.
Except she did, and she knew where this road would lead, but the hurt and betrayals had cut too deep, and all she wanted was for someone to get it, for someone to feel the same way she did, even if it was for just a second...or maybe it was just some petty feeling of wanting to lash out. To hurt someone because she had been hurt.
Just like a damn animal.
"Um...th...anks..."
A lot. A lot of damage had been done. As many times as he played the scene over in his head, he always came back to the same statement: he sent Siena - the one person on this whole team who seemed like had some semblance of 'having it together', into a full-blown panic attack. He'd used his power on someone he cared about for offensive purposes, even if he was trying to keep them from hurting themselves.
He didn't know Siena at all. He didn't know her thought process or her ideas, or anything she had ever been through - and he made a decision based on what he thought he knew.
And here she was, in the aftermath of it all. Hurt. Betrayed. Probably even more after the discussion with her father. And he'd done nothing to make it better. If anything he'd made it worse.
The least he could do was offer a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"Siena...do you want to talk? Maybe clear your head a little?" he asked, prefacing the sentance with an inward sigh.
So she wasn't wrong. Something between shame and satisfaction rose, but Siena smothered it behind a seamless act. Be vulnerable, be timid, be exactly what he expected to see. This isn't fair to him. The thought was formed with absolute clarity, and Siena didn't deny it. This wasn't fair.
"I..." Show the perfect amount of hesitation. The perfect amount of uncertainty. She could practically hear Maya's voice murmuring in her ear, the woman's hands gently prodding her along the path. "...don't know." Breathe, hold the breath. Look away. He'd heard something from her father, so this would be easier to sell. You sound like Maya. A twinge of guilt that she genuinely felt, but didn't let show. "I never really...um..." Let him finish the thought, chided the soft voice in her head. So she did. Glanced away like she was lost.
"Never really talked about this kind of stuff?" Marcus said, filling in what he believed was the hanging end to Siena's statement. "That's fine - say as much or as little as you need to. Just to get it off your chest."
Careful how you step now, Siena. The voice was little more than a whisper, but it was enough. The brunette bit her lip for a moment, as though trying to figure out exactly how to start. A cruel, bitter part of her wondered exactly how much truth she could give before one or the other would break. It was a mild, warm curiosity that only helped to bolster her resolve. Such a temper. You really should work on that. A careful, deep breath that she restrained only to make it seem as though she was trying to hide it prefaced the next words.
"It's not...I don't..." She paired the words with an expression that wasn't entirely fabricated, lost and confused. She bit her lip again, furrowed her brow as though trying with more effort than it should have taken to word the next claims. The words came slowly, deliberately, as though she had to carefully select them from a mass of other ones. "I wouldn't know where to start."
"Just start from the beginning of whichever part is on your mind. Or start from the part you're the most comfortable talking about." Marcus said, trying to make his voice sound as reassuring as possible, despite the slight shake that plagued his words.
She should have felt worse.
"...a-alright..." Siena hesitated, her eyes still turned to the floor. A moment of silence before the mage took a breath, as though to steel herself. It was necessary, she knew. Not only to sell the part, but also to tell the truth. She felt another throb of guilt, but convinced herself it was just a means to an end. "Um...I guess you'd probably find out eventually from Emma anyways." Words that marked she was stalling. Words that she didn't believe because she didn't doubt that Emma would have made some excuse unless--well...perhaps she wouldn't have bothered at that point. "I um...back at the--I mean..."
Another deep breath, another look of uncertainty, and then words spoken quietly with an averted gaze.
"I guess it's easier to start by explaining wh-what--" She corrected herself. Quieted her voice more. "Sorry. Why."
Marcus stood silently, awaiting the rest of Siena's speech. The back of his mind noted the mention of Emma, and how she'd apparently known...something? Did she know about Siena's panic attacks too? Why wouldn't she have mentioned something as mission critical as that if she did know abou-
Well, the answer was obvious. She made the same promise he did.
He was listening. Good.
Isn't this a bit cruel?
"...um..." Another breath, this one followed by a soft curse as though she didn't know exactly what she was going to say. "When I...um..." The realization settled in too late. She didn't really know how to explain. To Emma, it had been easy. Why she didn't want to be around others after the fact, but that wasn't the same thing. "Actually, that's not a good way to start."
A pause as she regathered her thoughts.
"Right, so um...I guess just...for a second, just try and remember the most extreme emotions you've ever felt. A few of them. Doesn't matter which ones." Her fingers tightened around her phone for an instant, as though it was a security blanket--Siena didn't entirely notice the action. "What caused them, what they did to your perception, anything and everything you can about them."
Marcus shifted uncomfortably, the feeling of an old wound seemingly throbbing, just to remind him it was there as Siena spoke. He was familiar with extreme emotions, and as much as she was trying to get him to think about them, he had always been trying to repress them. He remembered, he would always remember, but it wasn't any easier when they were brought up.
That was the lesson, then, wasn't it?
"A-alright." he said, hesitiation in his voice.
Cruel. Siena couldn't deny that what she was doing was anything but cruel, but there was a small, bitter part of her that didn't seem to care. Worse, it pushed her forward, whispered that it was necessary if she wanted to protect herself. That if she didn't want a repeat of the situation, then she had to make them understand, or at least make them hurt.
But it was still cruel.
"Now imagine feeling most of them at the same time. For all those reasons." The Arbiter lowered her voice, as though it was the easiest way to keep it steady enough to be heard. She waited for a moment, to let Marcus attempt--or maybe he wouldn't, it didn't entirely matter--to do as she had asked. Waited a moment longer after, as though to convince herself that she could spit the rest of the words out. "I feel like that every time I use my power." Not entirely true. She'd discovered already that she could cut the time in return for stability, but when in the heat of the moment, when losing a name a fraction of a second too early could mean certain doom, Siena hadn't been able to justify it.
There was a moment of pause, clearly meant for him to try imagining the hellscape she'd laid before him. He wasn't going to do it, obviously - he'd already done it more times than he was comfortable with. Still, he sat there, following along intently as she spoke. A look of mild horror and slight concern crossed his face as she described the harsh price of her power, followed quickly by a slight hint of confusion.
"Wait...aren't you..." he said, his voice soft and cut off abruptly.
An arbiter?
That would have been the ending to that sentance if he'd let it finish. They were arbiters, they didn't have a price to pay for their powers; not as far as he was aware at least. Apparently, he wasn't aware of a whole lot.
"I'm...I'm sorry Siena. That's awful"
A parade of emotions flickered across Marcus's face, and Siena felt a small whisper of satisfaction spark to life then dim out in the sea. She could tell without having to dig what the rest of the question would have been. An Arbiter. A white mark. A subnatural that didn't pay to have an ability. He was right on two counts, at least. She glanced away.
"When I focus on something else, it's not." There was no real accusation, nothing that was meant to put up a guard, but she kept her gaze elsewhere. "But that only lasts as long as there's something for me to focus on."
"Ah." A sound of understanding. That was the part where he had goofed. "Your phone."
"Sort of. It...helps." Not just the phone. Doing things was what kept her moving forward, and she couldn't do much without her phone. Not the point, Siena. She refocused herself, stared at her phone. "Anything with words helps."
"And you didn't exactly have anything else in that barren wasteland of rubble, did you?" he added, putting together the pieces. "So that's what triggered..." He stopped himself for a second, trying to find a more...delicate way of phrasing things.
"So that's why you were upset when I took the battery. I get it."
Hesitation, then a quiet, hurt look. Siena took a quiet breath. She'd said it back at the building. It was exactly the last kick she needed.
"Part of it." Grey eyes lingered for a moment longer on the phone before finally turning to Marcus, this time settling instead of turning away. "I said it back at the building, and I..." Hesitation. She visibly braced herself, made herself seem like she was steeling herself before releasing a quiet sigh. "Not having a source when I'm out there, out anywhere, is like sending someone into a busy street with a blindfold."
A pause. Don't look away.
"So, no, I don't think you really get it."
The sudden shift in tone nearly made the hairs on the back of Marcus's neck stand up, and his body tensed slightly at the open hostility. Or at least, a statement Marcus interpreted as open hostility. Not to say he didn't deserve it after all - he had earned everything that was coming his way, and probably a fair bit more.
"Okay. So maybe I don't get it, exactly. But I'm sorry. I didn't realize that it would have that kind of effect, and...I was just worried you were going to hurt yourself. I made a bad call, and I apologize."
You chose to do this. You knew where it would lead.
She knew.
"You know, honestly, that probably won't be the last time that happens. I'll get better from a panic attack. I'll probably feel worse ones just using my power." Her gaze didn't falter, but didn't rise to look Marcus in the eye. Still couldn't help but want to keep her own eyes hidden because she couldn't fake the color. "But we had a job to do. You know what I'm capable of, you knew. Anything, as long as I had a source, and you really think you were worried I was going to hurt myself?" Whoa there, Harker. Down...dial it back a notch. "I didn't warn you about my issues, that's on me, but I..."
Frustrated, tired, still hurt.
"I figured you, of everyone there, would have known that I spent my entire life not being trusted to do anything on my own. I told you I had a plan, and you didn't trust that I did." She kept her gaze, couldn't let herself falter. Siena didn't have to say out loud how deep it cut, how much more than a simple betrayal it was if he had heard more than he claimed. "I could have helped someone else. That was what we were supposed to do." Too much emotion in the word, Siena scolded herself. That was too personal for her own shortcomings. Pull back. Taking a breath to calm herself, Siena allowed herself, at long last, to tear her gaze away before giving a resigned sigh.
"But you know what? Maybe you were right. I guess I can't be trusted." One more push. "Haven't made myself useful enough to be yet."
Marcus winced slightly, as if the words had lashed themselves across his back as they came out of Siena's mouth. It wasn't that he didn't trust her...it was that...well, maybe it was that he didn't trust her. He didn't trust her to not get herself killed by accident, or even on purpose. That was the whole crux of the issue.
"Siena..." Marcus started, his voice almost pleading as he tried to worm out an explanation. "...you had said it yourself, you were fine with hurting yourself, you lost the teleporter faster than you thought you would, it's just one more subnatural that happened to die in the process. Nobody would care.'"
He tried to give her a stern look in his counter-argument, but he caught her eyes and immediately dropped his own.
You knew where it would lead.
guiltblameregrethurtbreakcry
"None of those statements were wrong." And they were true, unlike most of what Siena presented, but she kept that silent. "I'm not afraid of getting hurt, I'm fine with hurting myself." Beause pain grounded her when it was physical. Took her away from the blended mess of everyone and everything else. She didn't let those words come. They weren't necessary. "And I would have been just one more subnatural. Nobody would miss me, nobody would care. That's just what happens when you're a subnatural."
Well, someone might have cared enough to celebrate, but that was beside the point.
"If I make a bad call and get myself hurt, then it's just me. A subnatural that happens to be cuffed and at work, nothing out of the usual." A pause. "But when you make a bad call, Marcus, when you end up hurting your teammates, or when you get regulars hurt or killed, that's a different story. You don't get to stand for just yourself anymore, you lost that privilege when you became Time Scar." When you became our face. Again, she told herself to step back from the mounting emotions. Calm down, little Harker. "And it sucks, but unless someone else can step in and fill that spot, you're the one that has to know who's a better sacrifice: a subnatural that can and has hurt people, or a family of four in a crumbling building."
A pause as she glanced away, the fire in her chest dimming, a light of remorse and guilt cutting through her moment of bravery.
"Even if that means you don't get to feel human anymore."
He stayed silent. Let the words crash over him like waves of boiling water. Already his mind was whirring in defense, trying to think of something to aid him in this battle of wits.
He might have chuckled there, at that thought. Arguing with Siena certainly felt like a battle. A battle that he was losing, if the way he felt was any indication. Still, he opened his mouth again to defend himself, despite the tidal wave of backlash and remorse he knew that would bring crashing down on his head.
"First of all..." he started quietly, clearing his throat and starting again, a little more forceful this time. "First of all, none of us are just subnaturals. We're classmates. Teammates. Most of us are friends." those words came out of his mouth like a jagged edge. He wasn't sure where he sat on Siena's friendship scale anymore, but he tried to think the best.
"And yes. I'm Time Scar. The face of the operation. Apparently. I have to keep everyone's best interests at heart. And I know who the better sacrifice is, between a subnatural or a random family of four regulars."
His voice was slightly more firm now. Not shouting, but resolute in his speech.
"And yes, that makes me feel like less of a human."
He paused again, swallowing his fervor and returning to his calmer voice.
"I made a bad call. I never said I made the wrong call."
'There, that's what you needed. That's enough,' thought the voice that knew it was for the better. It was the one that drove her forward--plenty of monsters can play at being human--when she knew how the road would end. But Siena knew better than to let show that she'd gotten what she wanted from the exchange.
Wouldn't father be proud? How easily she could turn someone in her hands?
Classmates. Teammates. Friends. Somehow she didn't feel like the words sank in like they were supposed to.
That is what he would have been proud of.
She steeled herself internally, knew where this road would lead. Knew that she probably wouldn't be able to regain what she was sacrificing, but that was...that was fine.
"You're free to hold that belief." Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. Where are you now? "And maybe you're right. We are classmates, we are teammates, but we are still subnaturals." Would she regret it? Undoubtedly. "So you can tell yourself that we aren't just subnaturals. That's fine. You can believe whatever call you want as the right one. I can't stop you from thinking that. Hell, I would love to believe that too."
Stronger. You can't back down right now.
"But the next time you have to choose between me and a regular, you choose the regular." It wasn't a request. She willed herself to make it more than that. "At least then, it's a choice between a monster and a person." It hurt to say out loud, but Siena covered the pain. She'd have plenty of time to regret it later, when it was too late to change anything. A pause.
"Right now, you're just an operation face, but if what we've been doing becomes what we will be doing, you..." Hesitation. A soft breath, a quiet, resigned sigh. "You won't be Marcus, the subnatural or Time Scar, the poster child. You'll be a movement more than a man, and what choices you make won't just be for a team." A fate worse than that of a monster's, but Siena didn't voice that opinion. "So if a sacrifice needs to be made, at least you can pick the one that won't fit with the rest of that movement."
Siena...I..."
Another long pause. He knew what he wanted to say, but he had no way of saying that would paint him as the good person in this situation. Why was he even hesitating? He'd shown that he was more than willing to be the bad guy, especially when it had proven to be more effective than asking nicely. Where kind words and relief efforts had failed, a gunshot and an armored semi-truck had prevailed. Those had been his choices.
"Do you wonder why Zhang keeps people like Sander around?" he finally asked, not waiting for a reply. "If you're asking me to make choices with zero emotional attachments, to destroy a monster in favor of a person...a monster who is trying their damnedest to help. I'm still going to choose the monster."
"DC has taught us that monsters are stronger than men. USARILN has taught us that when a piece doesn't fit, you use it in a different puzzle. So no; I can't make that promise."
"Then you are severely underestimating the type of monster I can be." A hollow feeling that wrenched at her, tore at something she thought she could remove more easily. "And for what little it's worth, I am grateful that you are still human enough to hold those beliefs." At least close enough to human. Plenty of humans are monstrous. "But I'm not looking for a promise. I'm not making a request." She watched him now, tired, but still standing. "I am telling you to make that sacrifice if the need comes, because if you won't, then I assure you, I will make sure that someone else will, and I'm certain that the world won't think twice about accepting it as a small price to pay."
Silence again. A weary resignation that seemed to cross Marcus's face, and then transform into some other amalgamation of emotions. Anger? Sadness? Displeasure? They all seemed to cycle at least once, before Marcus finally spoke.
"Let's hope that the need never presents itself then, shall we?"
You knew where this would lead.
But it was so hard to make a friend, Siena couldn't help but feel pain for forcing herself to lose one.
"...hopefully we do enough good that this conversation will have been pointless." And for a moment, Siena felt how tired she really was. Felt it press down on her shoulders, cut across her features. This was the choice she made...wasn't it? A sacrifice that she had decided to make, and not some desperate child trying to live up to being a Santana.
Siena now has the ability to transform a small part of her body (a limb or something) into that of a character of her choice. However, she can only pull one name while doing this and the duration is much shorter.
The drive was hell. Siena had tried her best to isolate herself, kept quiet and curled in with body language that screamed "stay away" in the hopes that it would work. Everyone was tired, so nobody would bother her...or so she had to hope. Still clutching to her phone as though it was a lifeline despite its uselessness, still wishing that the screen would somehow light up without power, that she could do something about the storm. She tried desperately to quell it with willpower, but it only grew stronger, roared in her ears when she pleaded for silence. Emotions took turns pummeling her when she begged for mercy.
Guilt, fear, remorse, betrayal, an endless cycle of ruthless batterings that left her fluttering helplessly in their wake like a dead leaf hung by its last fiber to the branch.
She wished for the comfort of beings far from human. Thought of August and wondered if she would have found comfort--
beat break ruin flesh blood bone beat break ruin flesh blood bone
--in the feeling of wanting to be more, and failing. That she was not alone, even if the distance between herself and the name was enormous despite how close it was to her. Silent. She had to stay quiet because she didn't think she could handle it if her voice were to break through. Had to keep everything out of sight.
beatbreakruinfleshbloodbone
And the hours passed, the cacophany in her head growing with each moment she chose to close herself in. Cracks on the inside, not on the out. She tried again to keep herself together, seal the cracks with something that could keep things together. Keep her together. No one to come and pull her heart away from its place and bring her closer to what she really was.
beatbreakguiltpainregretfleshbloodbone
And she was back in the middle of everything, a sea that dripped around her, a different type of storm. One that felt calm, but reminded her of what she was. Siena didn't resist, let it find purchase where it belonged. A cool feeling that dribbled over her, but something lingered in the distance.
Something she didn't know--wrong, she knew it. Something that worked her mind, worked her entirety, slowly seeping in, writhing when it could not find the cracks, boiling when it finally found its place. Slow and careful--no, not careful. Gentle. As if it didn't know what it was reaching for, the featherlight tough of a curious child on an unidentified trinket.
More soothing than anything that she could muster herself.
guiltblameregrethurtbloodbone
Siena curled closer in on herself and wished to be something further from human. She felt oddly--no, it wasn't odd at all, was it?--at home in the vastness of the estate they were staying at. No, "at home" was more comfortable than she felt. There was a better word. Familiar. This was the type of home that she was used to--hired help, people around. Absent authorities.
After they'd been given some direction to the house, after they'd been left to their own devices, Siena had broken off. She found herself blindly walking despite knowing, to some extent, where she would be the safest. Locked in her room. Away from everyone. Away from subnaturals she wished were people, and away from the cold, sharp feeling that cut into her every time her fingers slid over a smooth protrusion. Was it hurt? Betrayal? Or maybe it was some evolved version of guilt and shame.
Her feet had eventually taken her to the baths, a familiar sense of isolation. Cold tile beneath her feet, empty space that echoed any sound back to her without mercy. All too familiar, she thought to herself. Still, Siena felt her hand set her phone on the side of the faucet, still absentmindedly stepped into the shower stall and turned the water on. It struck her like an icy blast, her ruined clothing quickly soaking in the chilled water, clinging to her skin with the added weight.
All that red, and none of it sin.
beatbreakruinfleshbloodbone.
Siena felt glass against her back, a flimsy support that didn't keep her legs from finally giving out. Back into a curled position, knees pulled close to her chest as heated water spilled over her. The warmth masked the searing heat that had risen, clogged her throat and nose, but did nothing to remove it. It continued to burn as she wished that she could be August, Ilsa, Victor, Celia, Mugino, Kanon, anyone but Siena.
The first night after Padma had died, she'd done the same thing.
Having started her day early, Siena had quickly found herself becoming familiar with the layout of the hotel. Though still receiving various looks of hatred and disdain, the brunette certainly couldn't deny that she was starting to get used to it. Not exactly something she wanted to count as an accomplishment, but given the state of things...
...well, that aside, she had someone she wanted to find.
'Well we went shopping yesterday, so he's probably in the hotel somewhere...' Actually, she'd assumed that Marcus would have been swamped with people, pictures...seething hatred. His interview had been aired over and over again, and...and she knew what that would inevitably mean. Time Scar, as the media had started to call him, was the new face of those that wished for more for the subnaturals, and to some extent, the new face of her unit. She didn't know if she felt comfortable with that, and was even less comfortable with whatever fleeting seconds of footage of her own face.
...which was why she had to find Marcus now! ...wherever he was.
"How hard can it be to find someone that everyone's either avoiding or crowding...?" Releasing a soft sigh, Siena continued her search. "I thought it'd be easier than this..."
Marcus, meanwhile, was in the computer lounge. With the revelations of how much internet fame the one interview had actually garnered him, he wanted to try and figure out exactly how much pull he'd had, and how popular he actally was.
After about an hour of looking through messageboards and watching some of the videos that hadn't been removed from YouTube, he still wasn't completely sure on either of those points.
Public opinion seemed to be...divided, to say the least. He'd seen a few reports heralding him as 'The Face Subs Need', and one badly photoshopped picture of the segment that made him into a literal devil, complete with horns and everything.
That, combined with the constant glares he seemed to be getting from everybody around him, and he was starting to get discouraged. Right now, he was logging off the computer and ready to go hide in the penthouse, away from all the judgemental looks.
Another room without her target. For the first time since her arrival in the hotel, Siena felt that the establishment was too big to be practical, frustration starting to catch up to her, making her steps just a little heavier, her patience for the distasteful stares growing thinner by the moment. Maybe Marcus was in his own room, hiding out from the masses. She certainly wanted to do something similar. If she'd still had her phone, a text might have sufficed, but the brunette had noted multiple times to herself that she most certainly did not have a mobile device to message her roommate.
...wait, didn't she have an easier way to get in contact with him?
Quickly making her way back to an emptier area of the hotel, Siena made sure that she was at least largely alone before making use of what she did have. "Transmit. Um...Marcus? Any chance I could talk to you somewhere? Over."
Marcus, standing in the dead-quiet computer lounge, let out a small involuntary noise when his ankle started loudly talking to him. Looking down to the small bracelet, and then around to the everybody that was currently looking at him, Marcus turned a bright shade of red, giving a apologetic smile and small wave before quickly stepping onto the elevator.
"Transmit. I'm heading back up to the Penthouse now, actually. Meet you there?"
There was a long moment of silence where Marcus hummed along to the elevator music, before a thought shocked him into action.
"Oh! Uh. Over."
Thankful to hear a response, Siena gave a sm--
...was that music? And...humming? Giving a faint smile, the brunette waited for her roommate to end the transmission, a faint twinge of affection trying to surface. Not necessary, she told herself. "Transmit. Alright, see you there, over."
With that in mind, the brunette made her way toward the Penthouse, her composure regained from the reprieve in the search. At the least, nobody was bold enough to make a move...but she certainly wished that she wasn't so accustomed to the stares. It didn't much longer for Siena to reach her destination, but the brunette found that she was just a bit slower than Marcus in their return. Huh, how exactly had she missed him? Giving a wave to the boy, she made her approach.
"Sorry to make you wait when I called for you." A pause. "Er...and sorry for using the cuffs. I don't really have a phone on me."
Marcus waved his hand nonchalantly, cracking a slight smile. "No worries, I was just surrounded by people in a quiet room. Not really a huge deal!"
He didn't give Siena enough time to apologize for, or even process that statement before moving on, cocking a confused eyebrow at her.
"What'd you need, anyway?"
Oh, at least he was--wait, what? Siena blinked in surprise, but didn't have a chance to fully make sense of the first statement before Marcus brought up the real topic. Taking a moment to regain herself, Siena released a breath, her smile fading slightly, the mask thinning for a moment before she brightened herself again.
"Actually, I figured with all the media attention, you'd be feeling a little stressed out." Because that was what media attention did to most people. Not allowing herself to miss a beat, the brunette continued. "And if our peers are any indication, er...nobody knows the real attractions of a hotel like this. I was going to make use of the spa, and thought you might appreciate a little bit of relaxation."
"Spa?" Marcus asked, if only to confirm her plan. That's right; the little thingy in the penthouse had mentioned something about a Spa on one of the floors. And he certainly could have used a little bit of relaxation - lord knew he needed it. Plus, Siena seemed like the only one of them who actually knew how these things worked, and would keep him from making a fool of himself.
"You know what?" he said, after giving himelf a second to mull it over. "That actually does sound nice! Sure, Siena - I'll let you treat me to a Spa day!" his grin widened a little bit as he spoke, giving Siena the universal gesture of 'lead the way'.
Taking the cue to lead, Siena started the trek to the spa, making sure to remain at a leisurely pace despite her desire to relax. Cautiously, the brunette glanced at her roommate. "Normally, the staff will ask you a few questions to see what kinds of treatments are convenient, but...I don't think we can really rely on that happening here." Turning slightly and continuing her movement in a backward trajectory, the grey-eyed mage glanced over Marcus briefly. She could think of a few things, but... "But in that case, I can make a few recommendations."
They could probably even use the same treatments at their age, but she didn't let that slip.
"Maybe we can get rhassoul treatment..."
"Siena. I'm going to be completely honest here, but I have no idea what you just said." he walked along beside her, listening intently as she spoke, trying to wrap his brain around the words she was spouting off. Was there a form he'd have to fill out to get the best spa treatment for him personally? What the hell was rhassoul? It sounded like a cream for toe fungus or something.
"How about you just lead the way, and I'll put my utmost faith in you, and just agree to whatever you said. Rhasshole...got it. That thing."
Putting his faith in her? There was something between anxiety and pride that lit like a match in the pit of her stomach--it wasn't exactly her forte to be relied on, after all...but when it came to things like spa treatments, surely she couldn't go terribly wrong? Just...all she had to do was keep it simple, right?
"Well, alright, I'll try not to make it too girly for you," Siena claimed with a grin as the spa came into sight. "Ready to take the plunge?"
Marcus took a deep breath. Something about the way she said that, coupled with the nagging knowlege that there were very few people in this building that liked them, and he was about to trust his relaxation to them, made him more nervous than he should have been.
"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess." he said, confidence starting to leak out of his words like air out of a balloon.
"Don't worry, I'll pick out treatments we can do on our own." Or at least as close to that as possible. Stepping into the spa, Siena glanced over the available treatments, immediately nixing the ones that required any touching as soon as she saw the looks that were being thrown onto the duo. Right, nobody was going to want to touch a mon...a subnatural. She hid the shadow of pain that flashed across her face with a smile as she picked out treatments. Something relaxing, but still good in some capacity for the body...
Maybe this entire spa idea wasn't the greatest.
"Excuse me, ma'am," Siena started with the receptionist. What she received was an icy stare of disdain, the severity of which she was certain was meant to drive her off. Undeterred, the girl continued, the same careful smile on her face. "We'd like the Botanical Serenity package, please."
"Oh," started the unenthused and derisive tone of the woman across the counter, her pristine (and fake, Siena noted) nails only leaving their position to lightly tap at the table. Unnaturally green eyes trailed over the Arbiter's face, lingering on the mark before an inaudible snort of derision--did this woman really think she could hide that from a Santana?--marked the next words. "So sorry, miss, but we're fully booked."
'Bullshit.' A sudden thought that tore through the rest like an armor piercing round. The spa wasn't that crowded, especially not when people were more interested in getting lunch while it was still hot.
She continued smiling. Once more.
"I would appreciate it if you could check the schedule before answering."
A cold stare coupled with a sickly sweet smile.
"Is this your first time at a spa, miss?"
If it wasn't unsightly to do so, Siena would have sighed in exasperation. Instead, she sent a sidelong glance to Marcus, her expression one of quiet apology for the first failed approach.
Marcus crossed his arms and gave the receptionist a cold glare, having long ago come to the same conclusion that Siena had. He caught her eyes as she looked apologetically at him, and shrugged it away. It's not like it was her fault that people were being difficult.
Still, Siena looked like she was handling it well, there was really no reason for him to interject anything. At least, not yet.
It seemed being completely civil wasn't getting them anywhere, and though Siena was far from eager to put years of training under Maya to the test, a petty, spiteful part of her wanted to see the receptionist squirm.
So she put on an entirely different mask--or...was it really even a mask?
"Not at all, ma'am." Rigid and cold, far removed from the tone she usually took. Siena knew that the sudden change was exactly what brought the woman to sit up just a bit straighter, a little unsettled. Grey eyes settled, unflinching onto the green ones before her. "I certainly know that this establishment could hardly afford to gain a reputation for poor service."
"Excuse m--" No.
"Allow me to make myself clear. A few well placed words, a few suggestions...the higher circles of society dislike anything that might tarnish their reputation. Something as insignificant as a rumor can have them withdraw their support in droves." A cold smile that felt terrifyingly good to wear. "The workings of higher circles are familiar to me, as are the members. Most are completely unaware that I am a subnatural. Can you really risk losing the most lavish spenders for a petty grudge against two students?"
She could practically see the fury rolling off the woman in waves of steam, and Siena felt almost proud about it.
"Now, do you have openings for a Botanical Serenity package, or not?"
"...yes, ma'am. Please, right this way."
Marcus's mouth was nearly agape. This was a side of Siena he'd never imagined could exist, and it was absolutely, 100%, the...
Coolest thing he'd ever seen.
Something about the seemingly meekest member of their Suite group standing up and putting this woman on the ropes thrilled him. Seeing Siena let loose like that, it was almost a spectacle to watch. Like a fireworks display going off all at once; he was vaguely aware that there was something wrong here, but he was too entranced by the show to worry about it.
He walked beside her, leaning over to whisper discreetly.
"Jesus, Siena. I didn't know you had that in you! Remind me not to get on your bad side!"
Waiting for the woman to go ahead of them, Siena slowly released the breath that had made her puff slightly, only to find Marcus whispering to her, seeming...surprisingly okay with her sudden attitude.
She wasn't entirely certain how to respond.
"I...uh..." For a moment, she was genuinely speechless before she regained her wits. "I learned from the best." The statement lacked in conviction, ending more like a question than anything else. Giving a nervous laugh, the brunette smiled. "Though nobody usually approves of me behaving like that." Fortunately for Marcus, Siena was reasonable enough to avoid any treatments with excessive amounts of contact between the subnaturals and their significantly less magical counterparts. Unfortunately for Marcus, she'd also chosen one that included something very similar to a mudbath, if a little less extravagant due to the size of the facility they were in. Needless to say, most of the service members were less than eager to serve the subnatural duo, especially so with Siena's previous "outburst".
How quickly they balked when the girl gave them a knowing smile every time a mistake was made.
By the time that she and Marcus had changed for their next, and possibly final, treatment, Siena was unsurprisingly not relaxing as much as she expected. Pretending to have eagle eyes and a personality that could freeze a penguin wasn't difficult, but it was more taxing than she let on. Tyiing the less expensive of the bathing suits she'd purchased the day before into place, the brunette stepped out to wait for her companion. The mudbath, though messier than she would have suggested for someone's first time at a spa, was one of the more relaxing treatments aside from the sauna. The mud itself was a thick and viscous, but still had a sand-like quality rather than being a heavy syrup texture, and better yet, it was paler than most mud baths. A faint, floral aroma wafted from the baths--one that she had no doubt was to relax rather than reinvigorate, but that was exactly what she'd hoped for, wasn't it?
Stretching herself faintly, Siena waited for her roommate and whoever drew the short (or perhaps it was the long) straw and would be forced to help the mud cover the subnaturals.
Marcus meanwhile, had managed to snag what appeared to be a complementary pair of bathing shorts from one of the dressing rooms. At least, he assumed it was complementary. It had the same emblem on it that everything else seemed to have around the hotel, so hopefully he hadn't just accidentally stolen somebody's swimwear.
Leaving his clothes somewhere where he was reletively certain nobody would steal and/or vandalize them, he met his companion where she waited beside...a steaming pit of mud?
"Hey Siena..." Marcus he asked hesitantly, staring deep into the brown depths of the pool. "Just checking; this is a pit of mud, correct? An actual thing, and not some 'haha look at the trick I pulled on the subs' prank?"
While Siena wasn't certain what she was expecting, she couldn't help but let her eyes linger slightly when Marcus arrived. Nothing that was terribly surprising, her mind todl her. Actually, he had fewer lasting scars than she'd expected, given what little she knew of the boy.
...she really didn't know anything about her roommate, did she? The realization struck Siena like a hard backhand across the face, even as she gave him a smile in response to his question. Laughing faintly at his hesitation.
"Don't worry, this is proper mud. Can't you smell the aromatherapy?" Siena stepped past Marcus, kneeling beside the tub of mud and drawing some between her fingers. It was heated almost perfectly at the surface, and her body already tensed faintly in anticipation for the imminent heat she would experience when she sank into it. "It's good for relaxation...and this type can probably open up your pores, then tighten them." The mud fell through her spread fingers, spattering back into its place.
"We dont have to stay in it long if you don't like it, but it's really relaxing."
"Proper mud." Marcus muttered to himself, forcing his body to not roll his eyes. He looked down at Siena as she 'tested' the mud, picking some of it up and allowing it to fall back into place. However, any silly remark he may have had was slightly overshadowed by what his eyes fell on next.
"Is that a tattoo!?" he said, unable to catch the thought before it left his mouth.
Between the ink on her back, and the sassy, take-charge attitude she'd displayed earlier, Marcus was only just now beginning to realize how little he actually knew about her - and how deep the enigma ran.
A faint, sweet smell continued to waft through the air as Siena felt her back straighten a little before she turned to glance back at Marcus. Had he never seen th--no. Of course he hadn't. It wasn't as though they had been galavanting through pool parties, and...she supposed even during training exercises, she'd elected to wear jackets or clothing that had covered her back. Of course he wouldn't have seen.
She never really stuck around late enough in the morning for the chance to arise either, had she?
"Oh, um...yeah," Siena replied with a faint smile. It wasn't finished yet, barely more than the front half of the wolves, a sun that was missing part of its fire, the one that chased the moon only outlines as opposed to the filled in sectors of the one that chased the sun. Scratching the back of her head, Siena gave a sheepish smile. "I wanted Freki and Geri, but I guess instead I have twin Fenrirs."
Nobody cares.
"I guess I don't have to ask you not to tell my parents though."
Marcus's mind completely blanked as Siena started naming things off that he had no idea what they were. Was Fenrirs the wolf? And who the hell was Freki and Geri? They sounded like names for bad muppets.
Still, Marcus smiled and nodded as if he knew what she was talking about; if they were important enough for her to get them permananently tattooed to her body, she probably wouldn't appreciate him voicing the muppet thought out loud.
"Hey, your secret is safe with me!" Marcus said, pretending to lock his lips. "But where'd you get the thing? I thought you said you didn't get out much?"
"I had it done at home," Siena admitted with a faint shrug. It had been exactly why she'd also been able to cover up her Arbiter mark with enough skill and effort when she left the house--Maya had made certain that whenever Siena had a backless dress for whatever event she had to be at. "One of my caretakers knew an old fashioned method of tattooing skin. We started working on it a few years ago."
They were good memories to an extent. The first few sessions had been cut short when her pain tolerance was still too low for a long session, though that was nothing compared to the reaction when Maya had found out. A small smile crossed Siena's face at the memory. "I doubt I'll ever get a chance to finish it, but I guess it's fine as it is now."
"Old fashioned-?" Marcus said in disbelief. Not only did she know the inner working of a spa, and have a tattoo, but she got that tattoo in an old fashioned way? By hand?
"Jesus, Siena! That's pretty..." he paused for a moment, trying to find a word that wouldn't make him sound like a dumb highschooler (depsite being a dumb highschooler).
"...that's pretty hardcore!"
Hardcore? She thought about the first several sessions where she'd whined about the pain until Gerwulf had stopped jabbing her with the needle to insert the ink beneath her skin and was unable to hide the faint grimace that appeared at the memory. "Noooooot really..."
Putting the thoughts aside, Siena gave a wicked grin.
"At least, not as hardcore as you will be once I bury you alive in mud." Which was essentially what she was going to do to her roommate. In some form. The girl made a motion for the pool. "I promise, I won't teleport you into it."
"It certainly wouldn't be the worst thing you've ever teleported me into!" Marcus said, returning her wicked grin and crossing his arms very sassily.
"Besides, ladies first." he added, guesturing towards the cesspit.
"Hmm, sorry, the ladies first rule only applies if you're the host." Which should have been enough warning for what she intended do to next. She moved into position with one hand on her hip, the other making some unimportant gesture. "Besides, I'm the one that knows how to do this, so..."
Without much further warning, she began to push the boy toward the mud.
"In you go...!"
"Alright, alright, no need to shove!" Marcus said, sliding slightly across the polished floor due to Siena's pushing. He stood before the small pit, moving to get in, before stopping suddenly and looking back to Siena.
"So...do I just dive in, or...?" he said, clearly stalling.
"Well..." A wicked grin. The mud had been soft, her roommate was clearly not quite ready to leap into the mud himself. If that was the case... "Here, let me help you out."
She put her hands onto his shoulders, then promptly pushed the boy into the mud.
There was a look of surprise and betrayal on Marcus's face as he toppled in, one of the last looks he shot to Siena before the soft mud swallowed him up, and he disappeared beneath the surface of the pool.
There were a few moments where nothing happened, where it looked like Marcus wouldn't be coming back up, before something extended beyond the brown top layer. One mud-covered middle finger, rising triumphantly, before the upper half of Marcus also rose, dripping brown, sputtering slightly.
"Pfffth. Peh. Yep. Looks like mud. Tastes like mud. It's mud." he said, his eyes still shut tightly as he tried to wipe the mud out of them.
There was a strange level of satisfaction at watching Marcus sink into the muddy depths. Siena waited with a triumphant smile on her face for the boy to surface.
...he was going to, right?
No sooner had the uncertainty try to grip the brunette than did Siena witness her roommate signal his return to the surface with a vulgar gesture. It was probably to his benefit that he was wiping the mud from his eyes as Siena stifled a laugh into little more than a few breaths between the gaps of the slender fingers she clamped over her mouth. One moment to regain herself, two.
"Sorry, Marcus. I figured you wouldn't get in without some help." She wasn't all that sorry. Quickly moving to sink herself into the semi-liquid earth, Siena waded toward the boy. "Hold on, you'll rub it into your eyes like that. Here, I'll get it."
"Oh, I'm in alright..." Marcus said, allowing Siena to rub the dirt out of his eyes. After a moment, everything was clear, and he blinked a few times to make sure that he hadn't gone blind after his little plunge.
"Thanks Siena, I can always count on a friend like you." he said sarcastically, whipping his hand into a finger gun, mostly for the express purpose of splattering some excess mud across her face.
"Awww, we're fr--hey!"
The mudbath ended up being relaxing in a different manner than Siena had intended. Between the horseplay and the sweet scent from the mud, the brunette found herself eventually coated in the substance before she settled down enough to properly bathe in it. Unsurprisingly, they were left alone for the majority of the treatment--something that Siena assumed was for the better either way. Just a moment to try and release the tension and the stress of being less than human.
...it was really too bad that she couldn't fully appreciate it.
The two of them really were early risers, huh? Even after that interesting night out with the boys of USARILN, Brent had still managed to wake up at 5AM to go through his morning ritual. He hadn't expected to meet anyone else there, really, considering how the girls had their own thing, but lo and behold, Siena had arrived to the gym after all.
They both must have been missing something in their heads. Not a single night where they got a half-decent amount of sleep, and yet, they were still operating the same as always.
As the elevator dinged, Brent stepped out to the lobby, uncharacteristically well dressed. Dark, slim trousers hid the cuff around his ankle. A crisp, white shirt beneath a dark blue jacket that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders. A blue tie with white stripes. And, the strangest of all, his unruly, curlier hair had been combed back, gelled against the dome of his skull. Not a single strand remained curling against his face, but still, the mark of an arbiter remained, a permanent stain. Maybe he should have worn glasses too, but that bit of deception would be a little too much.
Leaning against a column, Brent's eyes turned from one individual to another, waiting for Siena to arrive.
'I guess this is where 'Sunday Best' comes from...?' Siena thought to herself as she checked her clothing once more. It had taken a little longer for her hair to dry enough to be put into the braided half-up style that fell into the "easy and quick to do on her own" spectrum of formal hairstyles, the ribbon that usually held her hair tied neatly onto the strap of a small purse that carried little more than a phone (with little purpose beyond being a portable reader without a SIM card) and her card carrier. Her outfit was, as she was certain Maya would have put it, painfully modest. No prints, no sparkling adornments to catch the eye, and no heels. The blouse she chose was a elegant in its simplicity, an off-white color that was easier on the eye, and her skirt, a dusty and pale pink, chosen for its long, flowing nature. Enough so that she could cover the cuff on her ankle.
She'd considered, briefly, covering the mark on her face as well, but...was it wrong to try and pretend that she wasn't a subnatural? A monster in a supposed house of God...it felt wrong to even attempt hiding it, even if it might have made things easier.
Part of her still doubted her decision to leave the white smear in plain sight even as the elevator made its final stop, and it threatened to overwhelm her even as she stepped out into the lobby, scanning for her companion-to-be for the visit. Finding her roommate, she gave a brief motion of acknowledgement as she approached.
"Sorry for the wait." For a moment, the girl considered asking if she should have covered her mark...but then her eyes trailed briefly over Brent's own. Perhaps she'd made the right choice...?
"Hey, 'ena," Brent nodded, a half smile emerging, "Don't worry about it. Wasn't waiting long."
Thank god men's fashion was nice and easy. If he was Brenda instead of Brent, the arbiter figured that he'd always feeling like a fat slug beside Siena, who managed to pull off the 'simple but stylish' that basically every other millionaire walking around must aspire towards. Must feel bad, getting out-styled by a subnatural. Storing that petty sense of satisfaction somewhere else, the arbiter scratched his mark. He already had a location in mind, and really, it would be pretty bad if they were to show up late to the sermon, but...
"Feeling nervous?"
"A little bit," Siena admit while acutely aware of her own mark. She'd never been to anything like a church before, and she doubted that anyone was going to look at her as a welcome addition now that she wasn't even counted as a human. The dark, petty side of her sneered at the thought. It was certainly easier to be unaccepting of someone if they didn't count as human anymore, wasn't it? Pushing the thought away with a nervous smile--she couldn't fake them with Brent anymore, could she? She'd let one slip, one genuine one that she knew she couldn't imitate perfectly anymore--the brunette straightened her blouse to give herself something to do with her hands. "But I'll be fine. I've got you to follow."
It was a lot of trust she was putting into someone who only continued to fail, but...
"Yeah, leave it to me."
...he would at least do his best. The road to hell was paved with good intentions, wasn't it? Not what he particularly wanted to acknowledge at the moment, but, alas...he should have brought his baton or canister of pepper spray or something. Churches were either forgiving of DC's children or were the first to pick up pitchforks in their presence. And considering how this was Washington...
Second thoughts already?
He grit his teeth, clenched his fists, tensed his shoulders, and then released it all.
"Well then," Brent said, that irrelevant smile on his face, "Let's go." Located only twenty minutes away from the glistening stories of the Hyatt Regency, Capitol Hill Baptist Church was a red brick building that lacked the extravagance of older Catholic churches in the area, not even a bell in sight. Austere and humble, it nevertheless had a history of its own, reflected in its cast iron sign and a parking lot too small for the amount of people going there on a Sunday morning. Faith had gone up after the Slumber, even as human decency had decreased, people praying for safety while simultaneously attempting to take it by force.
Crossing down the street, Brent let out a small breath at the sight of people dressed so...casually. Had they gone overboard? Would they have been better off dressed up in street-casual clothing? He had read that the place was 'conservative', after all, but seeing this...
"May be overdressed," he muttered, before saying, "Welp, guess we just have to plunge in, eh?"
The building didn't quite fit what most people imagined a church to be, though it was perfectly in line with what Siena expected. Maya once told her about a church--the woman had never specified which one, only that it was where she and Gerwulf had been made acquaintances. The picture that Siena's caretaker had painted with her words had perpetually given the image of modest little rundown buildings. The Capital Hill Baptist Church was a step up from that image.
That was a lot of people.
"Y-yeah, looks like it," Siena felt her nerves rising. Being overdressed was, at the least, easily explained. Deep faith, usual attire...those might be hard to pass off with the marks so blatantly marking their faces. An impending date might have been the most believable excuse if anyone asked. Taking a carefully measured breath, she moved while going over what she'd managed to scrounge together since deciding to attend with Brent. She wouldn't be able to follow completely, but hopefully with what research she'd manage to glean from the convenience of the web would manage to guide her through things.
But that was assuming that the church wouldn't decide that it didn't want the likes of the subnatural duo in its hallowed space. The smile faltered at the thought.
Though it was full, as Brent and Siena approached the doors, regulars began to take notice, parents pulling children closer. The greeters at the door handed them neither brochures nor offered handshakes, while a younger man gave them an incredulous look, questioning why they were even there. All around, murmurs sounded, some glad that they weren't x-marked, others fearful regardless. 'The spawn of DC'. 'Murderous subnaturals'. People who made their wealth from war, and dared show off their ill-gotten gains in the form of their attire within the house of God. The atmosphere was stifling, passive-aggressive, isolationist.
But Brent didn't care for that. He wasn't here to go back to the the 'community', and as they made their way through a gallery of judging eyes, the arbiter offered his hand to Siena, giving a comforting squeeze if she accepted.
Even as they took one of the wooden pews in the center, the cool, hard surface forcing them to sit more or less upright, no one else sat on the same one as them. Or in front of them. Or behind them. It was that invisible bubble once more, regulars not wanting to get close to monsters even when religion told them to Jesus had accepted all. At the very least, there were still a few minutes before the pastor walked in and the service began in earnest. A few more minutes to become accustomed to this atmosphere.
"So-" Brent stopped himself mid-apology. "It's not like this everywhere," he opted to say instead, "Feeling alright though?"
She'd taken the offered hand without thinking, a sense of comfort in the contact as they walked.
Remind you of something?
It wasn't the same. The whispers hadn't been reaffirming everything she doubted about herself when she'd do the same thing with Gerwulf's hand. It wasn't the same. Her caretaker's hand had been significantly larger than her own, rough patches of skin that scratched lightly against her palm, her fingertips. It wasn't the same. She wasn't being insistently pulled through the crowd and away from the toxic words with another presence close behind her, laughing off those that approached, brushing off anyone that dared to get too close.
But it was still the same sense of comfort.
Though she wasn't surprised at the reaction of the people around her, Siena couldn't help but feel a dry sense of exasperation over it. So much for acceptance...not that she could really blame anyone. While her peers might not be monsters, while Brent probably wasn't a monster, she couldn't say the same for herself. Even with the space between themselves and the rest of the people attending, Siena couldn't entirely ignore the whispers. Couldn't stop remembering the same tones being exchanged behind hands, into ears, just loudly enough so she could hear.
Her fists curled into the fabric of her skirt, teeth lightly digging into the flesh in her mouth for a moment longer.
"I think so. I...wasn't really sure what to expect." She didn't really like hearing the whispers. Someone else saying it was...harder to deal with than listening to her own thoughts. Maybe because when it was out loud, it was harder to deny. She didn't know. "What about you?"
Like this, it was hard to imagine that regulars were still supposed to be 'people' he protected. Like this, it was hard to swallow the fact that he probably could have gotten along with them less than a month ago. Like this, he wasn't wholly certain if he would have gone with or against this rotten atmosphere if he had been one of them.
But he knew that the Brent from two weeks ago would not have just sat there and done nothing. Against common sense, that Brent would have stood up, turned to those bastards, and probably done something that would have gotten himself shot later on. Would have picked a fight against the world and failed to force back this tidal wave of whispered hostility.
Was this weakness? Or was this maturation?
"First time for me," Brent said, focusing on Siena rather than the cesspool around them. "I'm more accustomed to a quieter service."
A perfectly silent one.
"But if it becomes too much, just tell me and we'll leave, alright?"
He could offer this much, at least.
Up at the stage, the middle-aged pastor walked up, opened a beautifully bound Bible, and blanched at the sight of two subnaturals amongst the congregation.
"It must be more jarring for you than it is for me..." At least Siena was ready to accept and assume the worst situations when she was going into public. With unstable expectations, it was hard to be disappointed and harder still to be surprised, but for Brent... Sympathy ran through her, a pang of guilt, a sting of pain. She unclenched her fingers from her skirt, the wrinkles that formed less distracting than usual. Instead of smoothing out the fabric as usual, she glanced at her companion, nodding faintly at his offer.
A moment as the pastor walked to his position, the Bible in his hands less telling than the expression on his face when his gaze passed over their general direction. She lowered her gaze on instinct, her hand subtly reaching past the folds of her skirt towards the boy beside her, seeking the earlier comfort.
What are you doing?
She didn't know, but she knew that she wanted...something. Comfort in the wake of a harsh reminder of reality, perhaps. She simply didn't know.
"I..." He must have seen this coming, must have known that logically, it was going to be like this. But, still... "...don't know about that."
His own eyes met the pastor's unflinchingly, until the man looked away, finding more interest in his pages than his congregation. In the corner of his sight, Brent saw that Siena's gaze was directed downwards, and a part of him crumbled, just a little bit. It must have been uncomfortable, huh? What was with him and bringing people into these horrible situations? He had thought that Emma would have liked to learn first hand what happened to the dead in USARILN, but instead, he forced her down a reality she wasn't ready for. He had thought that there was a chance for all the male classmates to get along last night, but instead, he put Ernie on the spot by inviting Sander over. He had thought it'd be fine for Siena to tag along for this, but...
Soft fingers grazed his knuckles, and, without thinking, he reciprocated, the warmth of two sinners' blood shared in that moment.
...wasn't he just taking advantage of her vulnerability?
The thought disgusted him, disgusted him more than the part of himself that would rather inflict pain than save lives, horrified him more than the part of himself that couldn't feel enough to cry about the lives that had slipped out of his fingers, hurt him more than the part of himself that wanted to die, every single day.
No more deserving than Chris.
Just another predator.
And so...
The pastor's sermon began.
...he let go. The man preached a message of hope and faith, that it was only through stalwart belief that the Almighty God would deliver them from the devil's beasts. That through obeying the commandments and through helping others avoid the pitfalls of sin, one could gain divine protection from the monsters that stalked the earth. That even if they were to fall, the strong of faith would find themselves in a paradise free of pain and loss, where they would be joined with their loved ones in splendorous palaces surrounded by magnificent gardens.
It was so naive. It preyed so much on fear. Its foundations were built solely on meaningless ideals.
But Brent could still admire that, even as the pastor's eyes never met his again. That fervor was beautiful, and the reverence in the final prayer, as the congregation showed gratitude for all that was granted upon them even in a world so fraught with danger...it was something he could never earnestly feel.
Not when he was such a horrible individual.
So instead, as worshipful words went over wooden pews, Brent whispered another prayer. One for Savannah Churchill, who never got to grow up. Who never got to play her Cremona violin. Who never got saved. His mouth twisted into a grimace as he spat those words out, hands violently clasped as he dug into open wounds. It hurt. But it didn't hurt as much as it should have. And that was worse.
A final, earnest wish was made, inaudible.
And then, with a long sigh, his hands loosened and his eyes opened once more.
"Amen."
"I've never seen either of you go to church before."
"God helps those who help themselves."
"You mean the less offensive way of saying you don't believe in him. Guess we finally agree on something."
The sermon dregged up thoughts and memories that Siena didn't really want to remember so clearly. It was getting harder to put aside the thoughts of her past in the past few weeks, especially when she kept yearning for things that anchored her to it. Quietly, Siena had listened to the pastor's words...and something about her felt envious. She'd never been able to experience faith as it was with her caretaker's nonchalance. Harder still when her power crept in, only allowing the most extreme versions of belief to overwhelm her when she took the risk.
But it wasn't the sermon that set nails into her heart. It was the barely audible whisper beside her. The one that she couldn't completely make out, but between a few syllables that couldn't be hushed by lowering the voice, with a few words caught when the pastor was not as overpowering, Siena could piece together what it was about. She kept her gaze lowered, clasped her hands together in her lap and closed her eyes as though in prayer herself.
And it hurt.
Savannah's lifeless gaze. Padma's body, torn to shreds. For a moment, Siena was grateful that Brent's attention was shifted elsewhere as her breath tried to stop. People she barely knew. Not real friends, just comrades--at least, that was what she'd told herself over and over again. It hadn't hurt the way she wanted it to, and that had frightened her more than any clockwork behemoths or subnatural threats. She'd thought that she'd torn too much of the fragile heart away until she was left with the hollow echo of the emotions she'd thought to dampen in the heat of the moment.
But this hurt.
"Yer a little too innocent to see if from our view, kid. I hope you never do."
"...amen."
As the service ended, the crowds of regulars found themselves in a dilemma. If they left fast, they could avoid the subnaturals, but if the subnaturals also left fast, they would have to cross paths with those little monsters once again. It was a stupid, petty thing that didn't matter much at all though, as the pastor was quickest to leave the room through his own little exit, while Brent got up and...
His hand lifted slightly, about to make an offer, when that ugliness, that greed, resurfaced.
...and cracked a smile towards his friend.
"Guess we better get going, 'ena. Got pretty stuffy in here, eh?"
"Well, that's one way of putting it." Pushing herself to her feet, the girl brushed out the wrinkles in her skirt to little avail. Wrinkles from where her fingers had dug in the hardest were still visible despite the ineffectual smoothing she tried. Giving up with a faint sigh, Siena turned her attention back to Brent, the fake smile trying its hardest to creep up.
But it wouldn't work on someone that had seent the real thing, would it...?
Everything faltered. Without the mask, she didn't know what to do. How to keep it firmly planted when someone knew that it wasn't real. It was hard being genuine, much harder than it should have been. Siena relinquished the false smile and offered the brittle one that threatened to crumble like the shambles of the version of herself that she'd crafted so carefully. The real way she felt, really. Brittle, fragile little brat. "Though it was liberating in some sense." Her attention went back to where the pastor had been only moments before. The readings hadn't been so useful, but...well, it was best not to admit that she'd heard, she supposed. "All things considered...it could have gone worse."
"Liberating?" Brent asked, searching for an explanation, "That's...another way of putting it."
'Try not to lie about it.' This was easy stuff. Things that didn't hit too close to home. Or her past. Or of the things she didn't like to remember, or the things that she wasn't certain she was remembering. Siena paused to gather her words and thoughts.
"I spent my entire life being told that trying to experience faith was a pointless endeavor, and I believed them because I didn't really have much choice." Maybe they were right in their own sense, hell, Siena wasn't certain if she disagreed with them even then, but that wasn't the point. "But I came here because I wanted to. I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little liberated." ...among other things, but...baby steps.
"Stretching out your wings, huh?" Brent managed a smile, before the two of them began walking out from the corridor filled with judging eyes, out to a street bathing in the morning light. "Think you're freer, now that you're a cuffed subnatural? Compared to where you were before."
He considered it a little more.
"Did you enjoy this freedom? Or was it the rebellion that was pleasant?"
Freer...? Siena considered it for a moment. Physically and probably mentally, she was freer in the most literal sense of the word. It was still taking some effort to get accustomed to the fact that she was out and about, that she was allowed to do as much. Giving some thought to Brent's inquiry, Siena wasn't certain she could come to an answer. There hadn't been an absolute form of rebellion before. Learning from Gerwulf, learning from Maya, doing what either of their terribly opposing mindsets suggested...none of that had been entirely close to a rebellion.
"Both, probably. I enjoy new things, and both are still new to me." A pause as she turned the thought over in her head. "I'm not sure that makes much sense now that I've said it out loud."
Enjoy new things? Even if those new things were things like Wisford? Like the deaths of those you knew? Like having to face down a variety of monstrosities? Like being pierced by the powers of an enemy you weren't even aware of twenty minutes ago? No, he shouldn't go down that rabbit hole. Shouldn't...but still would.
"Makes enough sense to me," Brent said matter-of-factly, "You enjoy new things, and because both freedom and rebellion are new, you liked both aspects of it."
Sophia had been fine, even when she wasn't, and he was enough of a bitch to let that rest.
"That does...remind me though." They were crossing the street now, his eyes given an excuse to wander away from Siena's own gaze as he dropped a single statement. "Never had the chance to ask, 'ena. Have you been...alright, recently?"
Ah...a question that should have stopped her in her tracks. Uncertainty began to weave its way into her thoughts. She didn't know the answer to that particular question. Sure, the one that she wanted to give was "yes" because...because it was the only way she knew how to respond when faced with her own issues. Smile. Keep smiling and maybe nobody would notice everything that was wrong. It was tempting to try it, to see if Brent would still believe in the fake smiles and her partial truths.
...but wasn't the reason she'd felt the need to go with him because she knew she wasn't fine to begin with?
"...that's a hard question." Because she wasn't fine. Because despite the situation, she didn't feel anything the way she was supposed to, and her nightmares were starting to become more frequent and less effective. Because...because she felt fine enough to laugh and smile and push the problems away because she didn't know how to deal with them. Because she lacked the names she used to take until there was barely enough left of her to rationalize anything but legitimate, physical pain. Because she thought it was fine to tear out her own heart and replace it with a void until she felt brave enough to let herself come back. Because she was a coward. "I've tried not to give myself enough time to think about it, so I don't really know." A weak smile here, another partial truth. "I'd rather try and fix someone else's problems, I guess."
Shit, was what he thought.
"Shit," was what he said.
Ah, shit, that was too true, wasn't it? And, in spite of himself, Brent chortled, half-amazed at how similar that statement was to his everything. It was so funny that it hurt, and he wanted to slam his head into a wall for those thoughts. It was so agonizingly hilarious that his vision blurred, a hand wiping it away before anything could spill, could drop. God, this sucked.
"Geez," he shook his head, "I can understand that so well, it..."
His voice caught in his throat, and he coughed, trying to get those words out.
But nothing came out. What did he feel anyways? Why couldn't he vocalize this? Why didn't he understand?
"I know." Another flicker of a genuine smile. Of course she knew, and while it was counterproductive, she knew it was easier to know that someone else understood enough to keep the words quiet for even a moment longer. She took a breath. "Well, at least...I know what you mean." Her gaze lowered to the floor for a moment. "It's not the easiest thing to put into words. Or acknowledge. Or want to accept."
But she didn't have a choice, did she? Empathy, sympathy, years of perceiving emotions. All that effort, and it was useless in controlling her own.
"And I'd like to say it gets easier, but I doubt I'm selling that to either of us right now."
His own smile twisted, a pale imitation of the one he had used for everything. It was strange, wasn't it, that his bonds seemed to all come from the most inexplicable parts of himself. "Yeah, got that right," Brent said, scratching the back of his neck. Twelve years spent burning away all his weakness, slowly reinforcing his 'self', and still, it wasn't enough.
The arbiter didn't believe that bullshit about turning a weakness into a strength.
But for the time being...
"Well, seeing how we're both awful at helping ourselves, I wouldn't mind trying out co-dependency, 'ena."
...that weakness could become comfort, at least.
"If you'll have someone who only places second in classes, of course."
Remind you of something?
"Well...that does sound like the logical answer." Siena gave a faint smile despite the not-so-small voice that demanded that she take the words back. Her problems, not his, right? Her problems. But the voice was lost each time it tried to repeat the mantra. This was good for both of them.
So you're okay with this?
"If you're fine with me, then I think we're set." A pause and a sheepish smile. "But you know, first...I can think of at least three people that would appreciate some aspirin when they wake up."
"Gonna join me on my hospital visits then?" He grinned as well, a strand of hair finally breaking free and hanging down his face.
"Of course, I th--oh...!" Instinctively, Siena reached to push the unruly hair at least somewhat back into place. A familiar action, though more difficult than she'd expected. Something like a warm smile crossed her face. "There we go..." Drawing her hand back, the brunette felt oddly satisfied with the handiwork.
"Shall we, then?"
Instinct told him to jerk back, but something else told him to stay still, as her hand swept that strand back once more, warm fingertips brushing against his forehead.
"Thanks," he said. It was weirdly appropriate then, for him to offer his arm, even though Brent abstained from her hand. "I suppose we shall."
If it were a few days earlier, or perhaps even a few hours earlier, the scene might have played out differently. The thought didn't go unnoticed as Siena took Brent's arm. Familiar? She didn't try to silence the voice that mocked her without end that time. Though she usually forced herself to overpower it with brute force or a volume of other thoughts and observations, somehow, she didn't feel the need. Perhaps at that moment, it was a distant worry.
