warforged | [open] arrival

Entry tags:

[open] arrival

Who: Shirley Fenette and any Red Dragonsworn
What: A very confused, newly-undead young woman tries to make sense of what exactly's happened with her life.
Where: The Ruby Sanctum
When: Backdated to April 10th
Warnings: Spoilers for Code Geass, mentions of violence

Nothing really makes sense anymore.

She's heard the introductions. She's managed to make it out of the cave she woke up in. By this point, she's even managed to suppress the urge to run screaming every time she hears the powerful beat of wings nearby, or sees the impossible red beasts in the corner of her eye. But none of that changes how fundamentally wrong all of this is. Just forty-eight hours ago, her life had been so simple - what had she done to deserve any of this?

(She has a few ideas, of course. They're tentative, uncertain - she remembers doing awful things, yes, but she also remembers not doing them, and she remembers being told to forget about them but also remembering again and-)

And now she's sitting beneath a gorgeous tree, holding a sword she doesn't remember picking up and trying to ignore the feeling of dried blood coating her clothing. She's staring up at a sky that doesn't seem quite right, catching glimpses of humans and things that aren't quite human and outright dragons, and trying not to think too hard about the idea that her home - her world - is under attack.

She tightly clutches the handle of the sword she arrived with. She's never seen it, of course - just like everything else in this place - but it feels important. It feels almost familiar. More than anything, though, it feels heavy - heavy enough to merit taking a rest break under a tree in the first place.

Maybe she'll just sit here for a while longer. It's not like she's got anywhere else to be.

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She's been talking to the others, and it's keeping her mind off things enough to be at least cognizant of the world around her - but it still manages to surprise her when the tall figure in red speaks. There's a moment of startled fear, and then a second or two where she has to force herself to relax, and it isn't until she's looking up to him and trying to figure out how to respond that his words hit her.

He's sorry?

"About what?" That's a stupid question, isn't it? A really stupid one. She frowns slightly, licking at her lips and trying again. "If you mean-" And even when she tries, she's not quite able to speak bluntly about what happened just yet - instead, she motions to her abdomen and the bloodied cloth surrounding it. "If you mean all this, it's okay. Someone healed me when I showed up here."

That doesn't fix everything that's happened, and she knows it, and she gets the distinct feeling he knows it. But it's a start, right?

"I know." He steps a little closer, reaching out and placing a gloved hand against the tree. She might notice he's missing the last two fingers of that hand. "I was the one who called for the healing." He would have done it himself, were he not so drained at that point.

"There is no delicate way to put this. You are no longer mortal, by any stretch of the word. Your old existence has been changed." Irrevocably. Forever. "I did not consider that the magic would twist you in such a way, but it did. For that... I am so, so sorry."

Oh.

So this is the person who made sure she was healed? She's sitting here because of him. She's alive because of this person. (That's not an entirely new feeling, and she's not sure how to feel about that.) She should probably thank him, she knows that much - so why does he look so sad, staring down at her?

And then he speaks, and things are made clear. Changed. Twisted. No longer mortal. It really is something out of a fairytale, huh? Just not the kind of fairytale she might have wanted.

"Are we all like that?"

Her question comes out a bit more hesitant than before. She's beginning to have a general sense of why this tall figure has chosen her in particular to speak with, but - but maybe this is just what happens to everyone that shows up here. Maybe all the people she's spoken with have had the same talk with someone, or maybe they just knew. Maybe she just showed up at a bad time, and they didn't have time to tell her any of this. She'll hold onto what hope she has for a little while longer - there's nothing wrong with that, right?

"Some of the dragonsworn have lost their old powers, but they have been gifted with new abilities. It is not unusual. Some have become paladins or priests." But, looking down at this girl, he found it difficult to place her in the same category as the merciless soldiers of the Lich King's army. Granted, the majority of them defected after being betrayed, but that made them no less terrifying to behold. There were many questions about their existence, hinging between undeath and life, that Krasus was never able to answer.

There was a dark side to his powers of life-giving, and once more he found himself faced with it.

"... You have become a necromancer-- a death knight, to be precise." He kneels beside her, keeping his voice low. "Though you possess the potential for strength like you have never dreamed of, you are no longer of the living."

No longer of the living? Necromancer? Death knight? Is this a bad dream? Or maybe it's a joke. Just some prank that she's not in on - but one look to his face tells her otherwise. This is all really happening.

How is she supposed to handle this?

"What are you saying?" Her voice trembles as she speaks, but she doesn't cut herself off this time. "I'm sitting here just like anyone else, right? You- I got healed, I didn't-" Bits and pieces of today are beginning to fall into place. No hunger, no thirst, no sweat. She feels wrong, and she'd hoped that maybe it was just carrying the massive blade this far, but her arms don't feel tired even after crossing the sanctum.

She pinches her arm, as hard as she can. It doesn't hurt.

Her gaze drops to the ground as she shuffles back against the tree, bringing her knees up and curling forward. She can't really stand to look at him anymore - he looks so sad. It reminds her of Lelou, a little bit - except Lelou is back home, all alone in a world under attack, and she's here with her bloody clothes, a sword, and her memories.

"Is this my fault?"

Edited 2014-04-15 19:36 (UTC)

Krasus is silent as she takes a moment to figure things out. No point in answering questions half-stuttered as she works out her thoughts. It's the last question that really gets him, though. He hesitates, and then he gently places a hand on her shoulder. For all the coldness in her being, he oozes warmth and life.

It's kind of disgusting, probably, but he is a red dragon and he isn't trying to mask his presence among peers.

"No, young one. The fault lies with me-- with the imperfect system we created to save all these worlds." His voice is strangely gentle. Krasus is a father and a mentor, and thousands of years doesn't change that. "If you wish to be angry at me, I will accept it. I only ask that you allow me to help you in whatever way I can."

The hand on her shoulder is warmer than she could have imagined. It's weird, really - she can't tell whether it's because he's so alive or because she's so... not. Probably a little of both, huh?

"I'm not angry."

And she's not lying, either. She wants to be angry. She wants to break down and yell and cry until all this tension in her chest is out and gone. She wants to feel something other than sad and empty and cold at all of this. But if he'd never taken her here - if none of this had happened - she'd probably be dead right now. That's reason enough to forgive him, isn't it?

So she takes a few breaths, unnecessary though they may be, to steady herself. And when she looks up to him, his expression so sad and soft and unbearably warm, she knows she's making the right choice.

She shakes her head, still unable to muster up a smile, and continues. "You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't have to, right? The things you're fighting... I can't even imagine how strong they must be."

Edited 2014-04-19 00:06 (UTC)

If she wants to break down and cry, if she wants to hit him or sob on his shoulder, he is there. A guardian of life and occasionally chasing away shadows seems like a perfect fit for him. "... Yes. Sometimes the right choice is not the easiest one."

He watches her face for a moment, to make sure she's okay-- as attentive as any parent, given the opportunity. "The Burning Legion is numerous and terrible. But in any timeline, Azeroth was not meant to fall here. We will repel them, and we will take back your world. It will be all right."

She nods, trying to listen to the best of her ability, and once he's finished reassuring her she gathers her thoughts and responds. She still feels like she wants to cry, but it won't happen. Is that part of being dead? Or is it just shock, like some of the other people have been suggesting?

"Hey, can I..." The words have barely left her mouth when she falters. Can I still cry? What all does it mean to be dead? Am I going to start rotting? They're all stupid questions, or at least not quite as good as she'd like right now. Not when there's something way more important than that to deal with.

"Do you know if anyone else showed up from my world?" She blurts it out all in one go, just trying to make sure it gets said.

Edited 2014-04-25 07:42 (UTC)

Krasus waits patiently, but the 'can I?' question never comes. Instead, something else tumbles out of her mouth, something about... people she knows? At least, that's how Krasus interprets it.

He considers, then he shakes his head slowly. "I would not know. If someone asks for you, what is your name?"

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[open] arrival

sneaks in this tag; assuming she doesn't recognize krasus/hasn't seen him like this yet!

considering the lighting was bad and she was basically dying, it's allowable LOL

YEAH JUST A LITTLE BIT

poor babby

"poor babby": half the cast's default state throughout the show

welcome to code geass

whoops forgot a subject. how about those dragons, huh. pretty scary

terrifying tbh

not as terrifying as this last week of grad work WHOOPS

oh jeez i am so sorry 8( ITS ALMOST THE SUMMER THOUGH... SO CLOSe...