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Bloodstained Reunion (closed for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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.
no subject
"Of course not," he hisses under his breath. Magic is a living thing after all. Why would it be flowing inside of a person who is basically dead? "Now what do we do?"
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She shakes her head, on the verge of tears.
"I don't know. Not now. But give me time and let me figure it out."
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What is going on? Is it just because of his extreme emotional swings or is something else at play? Diarmuid growls low in his throat, but doesn't start raging or breaking things like before.
He's just too tired.
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She is on the verge of giving up as she remembers that magic circuits were engraved on the body and the soul. Perhaps, if she isolated them...took them out of this shambling corpse...perhaps then it would work...
With that thought in mind, she starts clawing frantically at her leg. Swallowed up by passion, she can feel no pain as she starts tearing away chunks of dead flesh and congealed blood. Skin and muscle and even bone start flying.
"Where...where is it...? My circuits..."
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"What are you doing you foolish wretch!" His voice is a dark hiss, "What good do you think this will do? Tell me! What good?"
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"It's alright. It doesn't hurt. It'll get things done faster."
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She continues to stare up at him, wondering if the explanation is sufficient.
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Do you think this is about a good place to stop? Maybe start something new when Kayneth can join?
sure
"You sleep too, alright?"
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After a moment, he looks away from her, eyes focusing emptily on one of the boarded up windows, "I will. If I can..."