Entry tags:
Bloodstained Reunion (closed for
boarrowedyourwife and maybe
aheadofmyself)
Sola-ui knew she had died. Even though she had no memories of how she had met her end, it was impossible for her not to know, what with her body being riddled with bullet holes and the unique feeling of knowing her heart has already stopped and her blood had congealed in her veins.
However, even so, her body did not rot. Nor did her consciousness disappear. She had no breath and no heartbeat. She needed no food nor water. Yet her body still moved and thought like one still alive. The bullet holes and the stump of an arm now seemed natural to her body. As if she had always borne them, even she was just born.
Perhaps, she is in hell. Certainly the dark, barren landscape would indicate that. As would the chronic burning pain and itch she would receive from her blood-caked wounds. But something else occupies her mind. And it is that something else which makes her feel like a damned soul.
Diarmuid is not here.
No matter how she searches, she can find neither hide nor hair of him. Nor can she find any trace of Kayneth (not that she cares). In life, she could only watch as the hero ignored her in favor of her ill-tempered fiancee. Had he gone back to the man he insisted was his true Master after her death? Now, in death, was she to be eternally deprived of her hero's presence?
Technically, she knows that it is a very plausible thing. She is but a normal human while he is a hero. They could never head into the same afterlife, if she even had one upon her soul returning to the Root.
But a miracle had occurred. She had continued to live this twisted life after death. What was it for, if not to meet him again? Surely, her love would not meet such an abrupt end.
"Diarmuid? Diarmuid? Where are you, Diarmuid? Come here. I love you..."
She chants with her cold, cracked lips, wandering through the dead landscape with tears flowing out of her eyes. She doesn't know how long she has kept at this, or how much longer she must continue to do this. Maybe she would search for an eternity. But she won't stop. Not when there's the slightest hope of them meeting again.
Since she is already dead, she can walk and walk and keep on walking day and night. Even if she doesn't know the difference since both look the same under the dark sky. She doesn't know how far she has walked, or if she has even left the place she "woke" in.
This day, however, the landscape changes. Where before, it had been completely barren, now it played host to a strange mansion pained in dark tones. It is constructed in the Victorian Gothic style, with pointed arches and steep gables The windows are nailed shut, but the door is ajar.
Since she is already dead, Sola-ui figures she has little to fear from whatever monsters may lurk its hallways. Thus, she steps inside with little hesitation.
The inside is as somber as the outside. Though it might have looked splendid once, right now its floors and furniture are covered in dust. The wall paper is peeling. The entranceway chandelier had fallen down and shattered into glass shards on the faded rug. It is a house as dead as the landscape outside it and the woman within it.
As she steps into the house, for the first time since her death, Sola-ui experiences fatigue. Her feet hurt. Her wounds itch. Her throat is sore. She wants to rest.
So she drags herself into a sofa and awaits whatever might come find her.
However, even so, her body did not rot. Nor did her consciousness disappear. She had no breath and no heartbeat. She needed no food nor water. Yet her body still moved and thought like one still alive. The bullet holes and the stump of an arm now seemed natural to her body. As if she had always borne them, even she was just born.
Perhaps, she is in hell. Certainly the dark, barren landscape would indicate that. As would the chronic burning pain and itch she would receive from her blood-caked wounds. But something else occupies her mind. And it is that something else which makes her feel like a damned soul.
Diarmuid is not here.
No matter how she searches, she can find neither hide nor hair of him. Nor can she find any trace of Kayneth (not that she cares). In life, she could only watch as the hero ignored her in favor of her ill-tempered fiancee. Had he gone back to the man he insisted was his true Master after her death? Now, in death, was she to be eternally deprived of her hero's presence?
Technically, she knows that it is a very plausible thing. She is but a normal human while he is a hero. They could never head into the same afterlife, if she even had one upon her soul returning to the Root.
But a miracle had occurred. She had continued to live this twisted life after death. What was it for, if not to meet him again? Surely, her love would not meet such an abrupt end.
"Diarmuid? Diarmuid? Where are you, Diarmuid? Come here. I love you..."
She chants with her cold, cracked lips, wandering through the dead landscape with tears flowing out of her eyes. She doesn't know how long she has kept at this, or how much longer she must continue to do this. Maybe she would search for an eternity. But she won't stop. Not when there's the slightest hope of them meeting again.
Since she is already dead, she can walk and walk and keep on walking day and night. Even if she doesn't know the difference since both look the same under the dark sky. She doesn't know how far she has walked, or if she has even left the place she "woke" in.
This day, however, the landscape changes. Where before, it had been completely barren, now it played host to a strange mansion pained in dark tones. It is constructed in the Victorian Gothic style, with pointed arches and steep gables The windows are nailed shut, but the door is ajar.
Since she is already dead, Sola-ui figures she has little to fear from whatever monsters may lurk its hallways. Thus, she steps inside with little hesitation.
The inside is as somber as the outside. Though it might have looked splendid once, right now its floors and furniture are covered in dust. The wall paper is peeling. The entranceway chandelier had fallen down and shattered into glass shards on the faded rug. It is a house as dead as the landscape outside it and the woman within it.
As she steps into the house, for the first time since her death, Sola-ui experiences fatigue. Her feet hurt. Her wounds itch. Her throat is sore. She wants to rest.
So she drags herself into a sofa and awaits whatever might come find her.

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And he laughs because even with the betrayal and pain, he has won. He is the one standing here now and where are they? Where is their precious Grail? Ash upon the ground.
Dust in the wind.
"See! See what your greed gained you? Your lust and disregard? You are all cursed now and it suits you! It suits you!"
Diarmuid laughs again, turning his back to the ruin and fire. He raises his arms, stretching, hands flexing and then folding in as if he is clawing at the air around him. He's free. No master. No need of energy to sustain him. No foolish promises of loyalty to bind him. No rules of honor to stifle his actions.
Why should he bow his head to those bonds again when they have twice lead him to his death?
Diarmuid stretches his hand out in front of himself turning it over and looking at the red lines that run across it to disappear under his armor like some twisted kind of war paint. What it is, he is not sure, but for some reason he feels as if it should be some kind of mark of honor. One he will wear with pride.
He lets his hand drop to his side and starts walking. Where he doesn't care just as long as it is away from here since there is nothing for him in this wasteland. And Diarmuid has no plans on wasting a moment of this new life with things that hold no value for him.
So he walks. He doesn't pay any attention to how long or even in which direction. When he gets bored, he simply alters his route and walks again. The rare times he finds others, he plays with them, letting them barely get a glimpse of him before disappearing. A ghost on the road.
A demon in the night.
Finally one night not long after sunset, he comes upon what looks to be an abandoned house. Diarmuid almost continues on by, but for whatever reason something urges him to at least peek inside.
He steps into the doorway and pauses, the moonlight streaming in around him.
Why, there is someone here. Someone he never thought he would see again. He's not sure if the emotion that surges to life in him when he sees her is rage...or just amusement.
"Sola-Ui You...have looked better."
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"Diarmuid...?"
She slowly turns from her sitting place to catch the familiar silhouette.
"Diarmuid, you came!"
She laughs, almost hysterically. The fact that he had come for her means that they truly are destined to be together. This time, she would make him completely hers.
She quickly stands up and tries to run to him, but she trips and falls on the ground. Of all the times for her legs to fail her.
"I-I'm here..."
Not even bothering to get up, she crawls toward him.
Perhaps it is the excitement and the sheer elation, but she swears she feels her dead heart start to beat again. She is living just for him.
As if to respond to her phantom heartbeat, her wounds start bleeding again, so she leaves a trail of blood behind her as she crawls. But that doesn't matter. She expects him to come to her. To hold her up with his strong arms. To heal her wounds with his kisses.
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He can't help but wonder what his former master would think if he saw her now. This bleeding, ruined thing that still whines and begs for his attention even after everything that has happened.
Indeed, it seems, Diarmuid has won in this as well. Not that it is any surprise to him.
"Has it been hard for you, Sola-Ui? So very hard without me there to protect you?" His words would almost come off as sincere if not for the dark laughter that plays around their edges, "Would you like me to make things all better now? To kiss away your pain? He is not here to stop me."
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Something about his tone makes her stop. Why hasn't he come over to her yet, even as she struggles? Why does he seem to be mocking her.
"I...did miss you greatly..."
She lies there, looking up at him. She wants to tell him yes, he should come over and hold her and kiss her.
But what if he was looking to see her prove herself as his Master? Surely, his Master had to be strong. She couldn't crawl around on the ground begging for him to save her. She had to be able to stand alongside him and support him.
"But I can...take care of myself."
She grits her teeth and tries to stand. She manages a wobbling, bent-over stance. However, as she takes her first step, she trips and falls again. Again, she grits her teeth and, clawing at the ground, forces herself to kneel and then stand.
Again and again, this repeats. Stand, step, fall. All the while , she leaves streaks of blood on the floor. Blood dying her (already dirty) white garments and making them as red as her hair and eyes.
She finally stops a little ways away from from him.
"After all, I am your Master."
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And then the marks on his hands start pulsing, throbbing to the rhythm of the rage that beats where his heart should be.
"My master? You say you are my master?" A dark, dangerous cackle tears itself from his throat, "What makes you think I want a master or need a master any longer? Or that you are worthy of being one even if I did?"
He turns from her, spreading his arms out at his sides almost like he's unfurling a pair of wings, before turning his head back to her a sneer twisting his lips, "Think you stupid woman! Think how much time passed since things ended and then began again. Don't you think that if I needed a master to survive any longer, I would still be here? That particular skill was not one he gave me!"
The motion is sudden, happening in less than an eye blink. Diarmuid moves from standing by the door to being in front of her with his hand around her throat taking all of her slight weight onto his arm. When he speaks, his voice is low and seductive in a way it really shouldn't be considering the situation, "Is this better? Now you can stop struggling to do something even so simple as standing. Don't say I never did anything for you. I am a knight after all..."
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"Gah--"
Though she no longer needs to breathe, she gags out of reflex.
His words are familiar, but his tone is not. And his behavior is as far from knightly as it can be.
Her eyes widen in horror as she realize he has changed. Even in this dim light, she can see the dangerous look in his eyes and the strange expression on his face. His is Diarmuid, but not the Diarmuid she knew. Not the Diarmuid she had loved and fantasized about.
"Ugh..."
Tears flow out of her eyes. Her sole remaining hand claws at his fingers locked around her neck. She pries at them, trying to pull them off her neck.
Then it hits her that this is the first time she has touched his hand. The first time he has let her get close enough to even try to touch him affectionately.
She stop trying to pry away his fingers and instead gently squeezes his hand. She's already dead. No amount of choking will harm her anymore. And even so drastically changed, he is still Diarmuid. So she will just take a moment to enjoy their closeness. Perhaps, if she treats him gently enough, he'll even return to his old self.
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Is she really that dumb?
He tears his hand away from her, not caring if the sudden motion causes her to fall, "What is wrong with you? What must I do to make you understand? I don't need you! I care nothing for you! I never did!" The anger and unsteadiness in his voice rises with each word. Slowly, lines much like those on his hands begin to crawl up his throat toward his face, "What is keeping me from walking away from here just like I walked in? Why shouldn't I just leave you here? All alone and helpless?"
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Why? Why does he still not love her? After she argued against Kayneth for his sake every time? After she took Kayneth's command seals so she could be connected to him? After she spent all this time looking and looking in hopes of seeing him again?
She gags twice, trying to speak, but it seems something has stolen the words from her mouth.
"...Nnn..."
She can only make a small, broken noise.
"N-no..."
The word comes out as a whisper.
"I-I love you!"
She reaches out at him with her remaining hand.
"You say you don't care but I love you!"
If he hears her declaration of love, he'll go back to how he was. He has to go back to how he was. He just has to.
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She's already dead. What does one more injury matter?
Red and black swirls before his vision for a few moments and during that time Diarmuid feels a very strong urge just to snatch her up and rip her apart. She's dead. She shouldn't be moving. She shouldn't be speaking.
She shouldn't be making him feel ANYTHING.
His hand is halfway to her head, fingers flexed into deadly claws when he stops, rage suddenly flowing out of him. The emotional dissipation is so sudden, in fact, that a small whimper slips from his mouth, confusing filling his mind.
What is he doing? What is wrong with him? These thoughts...they aren't him.
Diarmuid's eyes fall to his hands and the marks on them. For the first time since he awoke again he can't help but worry about what they mean. It's all overwhelming him and with her whimpering there on the floor, he just can't take it.
He needs to run. He has to get away.
Before Diarmuid even realizes what he's doing he's turned and started toward the door of the house. He should never of come in here. Things would have been okay then.
He will just leave and things will be okay again.
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That is because she is as good as dead already, knowing that she had been rejected by Diarmuid. All she wants is for it to end quickly.
But him turning and leaving shocks her out of her grief.
"W-wait! Come back! Don't go!"
She drags her body after him, slithering on the floor like a snake.
"Don't leave me!"
Even if he's just here to kill her, she needs him by her side.
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Thin air that refuses to let him escape this place. Escape from the feelings that are swirling inside of him.
A growl starts low in his throat rising, growing louder, and finally becoming a full fledged snarl. His hands ball into fists and he beats against the invisible barrier. Red and black swirls across his vision again as he continues at his fruitless task, not even noticing that his hands are becoming bloodied from his repeated blows against what seems to be nothing.
Finally, with one last barrage of blows he turns away from the door, his eyes darting around the room trying to find a different way to leave the house. As Diarmuid does so, his eyes eventually fall on the spot where Sola-Ui is laying on the floor. Suddenly, his scattered rage and killing intent sharpens, focusing on her.
Only a few steps bring him back to her and he picks her up by the neck, shaking her like a doll, before shoving his face into hers. Slitted eyes meet hers and his voice drips with barely restrained violence, "You did this. You are keeping me here somehow. Release me! Do it now! I will not stay in your presence a moment longer!"
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"How..."
Before she can finish speaking, his hand is locked around her throat. She quickly shakes her head in response to his demands. She set no barrier. In her dead state, she does not even know if she can set one.
Her attention is diverted from the matter of the forcefield when she notices the black blood flowing from his knuckles. She raises her remaining hand and gently caresses the hand choking her. She stares at him, as if to ask how much it hurts him.
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"Why? Why is it black?" The questions are muttered almost to himself in a voice much different than the enraged one he had been yelling with not so long ago. This voice is an unsteady mix of curiosity, fear and confusion.
He looks at Sola-Ui, the expression on his face finally looking something more like what she would recognize as 'her' Diarmuid, "What is wrong with me? Why...why have I changed so much?"
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"I-I don't know! Why you can't leave. Or why your blood is black! I don't know why you changed! But...but that's not important! What's important is that you have to go back!"
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If his question sounds angry that anger quickly drains away. In fact, Diarmuid suddenly feels a lot more tired than he has since he woke up. After a few moments, he actually drops rather hard to sit, cross-legged, on the floor.
"What do I do? How do I become me again? Do these things have something to do with it?" He runs his fingers over the markings on his hands. "These must have something to do with it. But what?"
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"You could try to seek the same happiness you did before. No, something greater than that, even."
She leans her face close to him, so much their their noses almost touch. Then, quickly, she gives him a light kiss on the side of his mouth.
"Knights should be quick to become themselves again in the presence of their lady. If you need someone to calm you, then why not me?"
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However, despite how much is makes him sick to have her so close, he doesn't shove her away. He moves his head backward away from hers, but he allows her to remain leaning on him.
"Why would I ever consider you my lady, Sola-Ui?" His voice is low and he looks her in the eyes as he speaks. "Why would I be calmed by the woman who was responsible for my death? He killed me because of you! He forced me to drive my own weapon through my chest because of you!"
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She looks down at her stump of an arm and frowns. Had the command seals that she wanted to use to tie herself to Diarmuid been the cause of his death? She should be devastated at the news, but having Diarmuid by her side calms her somewhat. At least, it allows her to feel anger instead of panic.
"I have no love for him. Kayneth or any other man. If he hurt you because of me...then I'll just kill him for you! Tell me where he is!"
She might not be able to walk now, but when she can, she will hunt that man down.
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He pushes at her, but again it's not really hard enough to force her away. Instead, he laughs bitterly, "If the condition you are in is any indication, he is probably as dead as you are.
"Actually, hopefully he's more dead than you. Even more than you, I do not wish anything to do with him ever again."
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She smiles at him.
"But I didn't tell him anything. I only thought of protecting you."
She looks down at his hands pushing her.
"And I tell you I don't want anything to do with him either. So stop thinking of me as belonging to him."
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That man. Just the thought of him makes the rage rekindle inside of Diarmuid. That man had been the one to offer his master the deal. Diarmuid might not have had much time to realize that during his last few moments of life, but it doesn't take a lot of thought to realize it now.
A low growl vibrates in his throat. What he wouldn't give to be able to have some time alone with that man. He would kill him slowly. Tear him apart limb by limb...
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"It was someone else, but she was standing with the man you mentioned. She was a very strange woman, all dressed in black. And the way she acted--she was barely even human."
She looks up into his eyes.
"And how do you know of that...vagrant?"
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That memory.
"He was the one who did it. He was the one who offered the deal that couldn't be refused. I didn't see that woman anywhere, but he was there. With you. With...Kayneth. He is just as responsible as the rest of you!" He suddenly shoves her out of his lap, standing to pace the room like the caged animal he currently is.
"I want to rip them apart. I want to hear them scream. I want them to feel my pain! Let my agony be their own!"
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She has regained a little strength by now, so she climbs to her knees.
"I can rip them into however many pieces you want. Extract as many screams from them as possible. We can have our revenge together."
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His voice falls silent. Diarmuid lifts his hand up in front of his face and looks at it again, tracing the lines that cover it, "What are you? What have you turned me into?" The questions are asked mostly to himself and he expects no answers. Still, it is something he does want an answer to. He just doesn't know where to start looking for that answer.
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Do you think this is about a good place to stop? Maybe start something new when Kayneth can join?
sure
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