unhandme | Bloodstained Reunion (closed for boarrowedyourwife and maybe aheadofmyself)

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musebox

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.

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"How can I change back if I don't know what is wrong with me?" Diarmuid flings his hand out, not even noticing the blood that comes off it to splatter on a wall. Of course, considering all the blood that Sola-Ui has gotten on things already, it doesn't really stand out all that much.

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?"

She crawls over to him and, with her one good hand resting on his shoulder, pulls herself up just enough so she can draped herself over him.

"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?"

"What makes you think you are that lady?" Anger flashes in his eyes again as she has the audacity to not only lay on him, but also to kiss him. The kiss in particular makes his stomach twist and in the back of his mind, he can't help but wonder if he threw up, would the vomit be as black as his blood?

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!"

"He did?"

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.

"Of course, he did! You were there. You saw i..." Diarmuid's voice drops off as he forces himself to sort through the memories of that time. She had been there. He remembered that. But she....she had been hurt. Yes, he can remember that now. She had been being carried. Had she known after all?

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."

"Was I? The last thing I remember was that woman interrogating me about you."

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."

"That woman? What woman?" For the moment, curiosity overrides his disgust at having her so close to him, and Diarmuid actually warps an arm around her, pulling her to sit in his lap facing him so he can talk to her face to face. "Do you mean Saber and her master? Or was it someone else? Do you remember meeting a man with dark hair and dead eyes after you were taken?"

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...

She giggles when he pulls her over. Maybe he's finally started to reciprocate her affection.

"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?"

"It was him," there is a snarl in Diarmuid's words, but for once it's not direct at her. In fact, he hardly seems to be aware of her now--his eyes focused on something distant, a memory perhaps.

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!"

"I'll help you!"

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."

Diarmuid tilts his head back at her, gaze amused, "Do you really think I need your help claiming my vengeance? You who can barely stand on her own? Focus on learning to walk again, babe, before you make any grand plans. In the meantime, I will find my own way," he lets his head drop back, at the same time stretching his arms out at his sides and rolling his shoulders. "My body is still whole, after all, if changed..."

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.

"Give me a little time."

She cannot be weak forever. Already, she is recovering some energy.

"Something...something must have blessed both of us. Why else would we and nobody else be here?"

"Find a way to break the spell keeping us in this house or find a way around the barrier."

Diarmuid ignores her words on being blessed by the situation. In fact, his statement is a challenge that is clear from the look in his eyes, "You have the time it takes to find that. However, do not think to extend your time by not looking at your full capacity because I will be looking as well, and if I find a way before you do, I will leave you here without a second thought. You have my word on that, and a knight never lies."

She quickly nods and crawls over to the door as quickly as she can. She raises a hand to feel the barrier. It's indeed a firm one. It feels like a glass door just placed in front of the entranceway. She next observes the sides of the door. There are no marks to indicate the placements of any spells.

"Can you try your Noble Phantasm? It should be able to repel the magic, if it is magic."

How odd it is that she thought of that before he did. After all, Diarmuid's weapons are a part of him like an arm or a leg, but even so, he had not thought of it.

Perhaps deep down, he knows it won't be that easy?

Without a sound, the spear appears in Diarmuid's hands. If he notices that its metal seems dulled and cracked, he doesn't show any sign. Instead, he merely unseals its abilities and brings the spear's head in contact with the barrier.

Nothing happens.

The bitter laughter that slips from his lips shows how completely unsurprised by this he is.

She shakes her head when she sees that it has no effect.

"Impossible. Or...is this magic just too strong?"

She crawls over to another wall of the room. Nothing to indicate any origin for the barrier either.

"Maybe we will just have to search every room..."

Diarmuid does not answer her at first. Instead, he unsummons his spear and just watches her. It doesn't make any sense to him. Why does she try so hard, struggle so much, when he has been nothing but cruel to her? When he has said she means nothing to him?

"Why are you doing this? Why help me when I have spurned you so? Your efforts make no sense to me. What is so special about me that you will do so much to have the chance to posses it even for a little while?"

"Because I love you."

To the extent that she would do anything to keep him at her side. No matter how cruel he was to her, she would only remember him as the Diarmuid who had stood at her side during the Grail War. As long as she could keep him by her, there was a chance that she could get him to love her.

"You lie!"

The lines on his hands and neck start pulsing again, but it is not just with anger. It is with shame and frustration as well.

"I was the one who left you alone on that rooftop. I am the one who left you vulnerable to that woman's actions. I am the one who caused your death!" It is odd for Diarmuid to find himself agreeing with his former master's words, but agree he does. It might not have been his intention to get Sola-Ui hurt, but his actions had lead to that anyway.

What do intentions matter when reality ends up so different from them?

"Stop lying and just tell me the truth!"

"So what if you were? I love you enough to die for you!"

Not to say she enjoyed the thought of death in any way, seeing how it would forever separate her and Diarmuid, but if she couldn't live with him, she would rather be dead.

"Are you really that stupid?" Diarmuid motions to the mole under his eye, "Have you forgotten what this does? What my curse does? How can you honestly think that what you feel is true love? It is just a pale imitation that has been forced on you. Get over it!"

"You think I don't know?"

She's a magus. She knows. She could have fought.

"Maybe I just wanted to love for once. And to love someone more deserving than Kayneth!"

"And what of me? What if I don't want you to love me?" Diarmuid stalks over to where she is standing, eyes narrowed. "Do I get no choice in this? What gives you that right! I have spent too much of my life letting others make that choice for me. For once I want to be the one who decides!"

"Then decide! And change that decision however you see fit! I won't give up no matter what you say!"

"How can you tell me to decide when in the very same breath you tell me my decisions don't matter because you will just keep doing what you are doing anyway?" Diarmuid feels the urge to hit her rising and he almost does it, before stopping with his hand in mid-strike. He looks to his hand a moment, then to her, and back again.

What is wrong with him? Why is he being so violent? Even if she is trying him beyond all patience, he shouldn't be letting himself hit her.

He lets his hand drop, turning away from her to hide the uncertainty on his face. Very quietly he whispers, "What is wrong with me?"

Bloodstained Reunion (closed for boarrowedyourwife and maybe aheadofmyself)

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