Dum
Ba-dum
I feel it.
A pulse. A beating heart. Mine, I realize with detached surprise.
Later, I do not know how much later. I remember where I am. Or where I should be. It's dark for the Afterlife. So utterly dark that I have to wonder... but no, I know I'm dead. The scene repeats and I wish I could look away. Klaudius. All smiles until he wasn't. And then...
Pain. The kind of pain that makes you wish you'd never been born to feel it. Muscle and bone rending apart until it's all I could do to stay conscious. Why did I want to stay conscious? So much pain that I almost didn't notice when he gripped me close. He'd held me like that once before, when I'd been too foolish to see what he was. Now I saw, but it was far too late.
Like an observing spirit I watch as he used my broken body, the look on his face so fragmented and hateful, even as he parodied a lover. Poor, broken girl. What had she done to make him so vengeful? I feel the ache of violation. I feel... sick. I want to look away, but can't. Ghosts have no eyes to speak of. I have to look, and watch the defilement unfold. His face, that twisted triumph when he builds a mask of jagged iron over his face, the razored pike protruding with undisguised menace. The girl knelt before him, too damaged to stand. Her wing dangled by thin skin and tendon, splintered bone visible and blood clotting down her side.
They held that frozen position for a moment, saying words I cannot hear. He lunges.
I want to scream.
For a second time I see that copy of myself be violently penetrated. It was quick. He'd had his fun, I suppose. Vented his frustrations. It slid cleanly between the ribs. Split the hide like it wasn't there, and sank until it met its mark. At last the horrible show was over.
Fade to black.
Later. I have a body. And it hurts mightily. Training must have really kicked my ass yesterday. Had my chest been stepped on by a whole battalion of soldiers? Go away, Mother, please don't make me get up. The air feels like ice in my lungs.
Ba-dum
Ba-dum
Later. Less pain, I think. It's dark, but I can see no stars, no moon. I can't remember... where I am. Why I'm here. My name... I have a name. Sabra. Princess. Queen. Failure... Sabra. It floats in front of me, and I'm not sure I want to claim it. That woman, who could be me, if I let her. Was she a one worth being? Being Sabra hurt. The scars were growing, marring the beauty she'd once been known for. Her heart was fragile, weak. Weak. And who would mourn her, should she vanish into the ether? Faces flicker in my sight. Friends both new and old. Children that I could only hope would grow to be better than me. Stronger. Cas... I'm so sorry, Castile. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. I only just got you back, and now... I feel a solid coldness beneath me.
Smell the wind that I loved so dearly. It pulls me down like stones in the sea. Irresistible and undeniably real. Just as irresistible is the darkness I am floating in. I can feel it, the desire to unbecome. I know I can make the choice. And... I find myself leaning towards the unbecoming. Isn't that what I've wanted, deep down, for years now? If I decide to be real, it will hurt. I will not be okay. I don't know if I will ever be okay again.
I feel my heart-
beat
@[Kagerus] so maybe possibly if you're interested dream-talk her into wanting to live again?
Ba-dum
I feel it.
A pulse. A beating heart. Mine, I realize with detached surprise.
Later, I do not know how much later. I remember where I am. Or where I should be. It's dark for the Afterlife. So utterly dark that I have to wonder... but no, I know I'm dead. The scene repeats and I wish I could look away. Klaudius. All smiles until he wasn't. And then...
Pain. The kind of pain that makes you wish you'd never been born to feel it. Muscle and bone rending apart until it's all I could do to stay conscious. Why did I want to stay conscious? So much pain that I almost didn't notice when he gripped me close. He'd held me like that once before, when I'd been too foolish to see what he was. Now I saw, but it was far too late.
Like an observing spirit I watch as he used my broken body, the look on his face so fragmented and hateful, even as he parodied a lover. Poor, broken girl. What had she done to make him so vengeful? I feel the ache of violation. I feel... sick. I want to look away, but can't. Ghosts have no eyes to speak of. I have to look, and watch the defilement unfold. His face, that twisted triumph when he builds a mask of jagged iron over his face, the razored pike protruding with undisguised menace. The girl knelt before him, too damaged to stand. Her wing dangled by thin skin and tendon, splintered bone visible and blood clotting down her side.
They held that frozen position for a moment, saying words I cannot hear. He lunges.
I want to scream.
For a second time I see that copy of myself be violently penetrated. It was quick. He'd had his fun, I suppose. Vented his frustrations. It slid cleanly between the ribs. Split the hide like it wasn't there, and sank until it met its mark. At last the horrible show was over.
Fade to black.
Later. I have a body. And it hurts mightily. Training must have really kicked my ass yesterday. Had my chest been stepped on by a whole battalion of soldiers? Go away, Mother, please don't make me get up. The air feels like ice in my lungs.
Ba-dum
Ba-dum
Later. Less pain, I think. It's dark, but I can see no stars, no moon. I can't remember... where I am. Why I'm here. My name... I have a name. Sabra. Princess. Queen. Failure... Sabra. It floats in front of me, and I'm not sure I want to claim it. That woman, who could be me, if I let her. Was she a one worth being? Being Sabra hurt. The scars were growing, marring the beauty she'd once been known for. Her heart was fragile, weak. Weak. And who would mourn her, should she vanish into the ether? Faces flicker in my sight. Friends both new and old. Children that I could only hope would grow to be better than me. Stronger. Cas... I'm so sorry, Castile. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. I only just got you back, and now... I feel a solid coldness beneath me.
Smell the wind that I loved so dearly. It pulls me down like stones in the sea. Irresistible and undeniably real. Just as irresistible is the darkness I am floating in. I can feel it, the desire to unbecome. I know I can make the choice. And... I find myself leaning towards the unbecoming. Isn't that what I've wanted, deep down, for years now? If I decide to be real, it will hurt. I will not be okay. I don't know if I will ever be okay again.
I feel my heart-
beat
@[Kagerus] so maybe possibly if you're interested dream-talk her into wanting to live again?