[ME PLUMBOBS.............. i guess at some point the boys stop clinging to mizu and get medical attention. sorry about your sudden baby acquisition and baby loss, sir.
Richie's face is presumably bandaged, glasses returned to him. His foot must also be in a cast and we assume his ass is bandaged, hope del and maomao had fun with that one.
There's a distinct reluctance to look Mizu in the eyes at the moment. And for a moment the dreamscape bleeds through — smoke on the air. Fire flickers somewhere out of sight, the sound prickling at their ears.
Richie flinches and shakes his head.]
It wasn't too different from last time. New life, new me. All of a night, though, no centuries beyond our years.
mizu startles a little when the smoke starts rolling in, though it doesn't last long enough for her to actually do anything about it. dreamscape jumpscares are her new enemy, after this week.]
... I see. It must have been one hell of a night. [slowly. and then, wondering how to breach the topic.] Was that all? You and Taair both kept — apologizing.
[Richie goes quiet. Not quite avoiding her gaze, but clearly fighting the urge to.]
...Well. We weren't put there to party, I'll tell you that much. [He swallows thickly. Partly to steel himself but also to soothe his raw throat. The seawater was unkind to him.] We were...paid to slay a demon.
[Money. All for money, no questions asked. It makes his belly roll like the barrel of a laundry machine, a constant and queasy tumble.]
You were sellswords, then. [they really grabbed the people who don't know how to fight for this, huh.] ... What matter of demon were you asked to kill?
[she has a suspicion after that return thread, but.]
[Hilarious casting all around. I feel like we should have been rolling with disadvantage the whole time honestly.
He holds even with her, miraculously. Doesn't flinch away yet, slowly shakes his head.]
We didn't get details off the top. Just that it was on the sixth floor of a castle. Had to go through hell first to find out.
[There's another flash of dreamscape. A tunnel with skeletons, big and small. Swept up in water. Slaying a guard, the Indiana Jones run in a trap-laden hall, the kitchens with old faces, the grenade. Richie flinches as the visions go haywire as their minds do. Psychoactive drugs taking them on a gorey ride, watching Claude die a second time in a surreal, bloody haze.
A woman rushing the door, Richie striking out on instinct. Her deadly tumble down the stairs.
It's that part that gets his head bowing. Shame pushes him down and out from whatever seat of dignity he could claim.]
[she doesn't seem to be at all surprised when the first set of images flash through the dreamscape. this is all familiar territory. it's mostly just frustrating that the entity took those experiences and used them to hurt the people she's come to care about.
and then there's that woman, and mizu freezes.]
What? [Why would I be—? baffled.] I recognize that castle. But it's one I fought my way through as I am now.
[as an adult. frowns, thinking...]
... I suppose the specifics don't matter. In the end, they took my experiences and used them to hurt you. And for that I am sorry, Rich.
[There is some small relief. Just a flash. Knowing it hadn't been exactly true to reality doesn't change that it's all echoes of her real past.]
...Is that where you passed away?
[They very much did set it on fire. And Mizu may have been fighting through it to find a different demon altogether. Could have swam through the tunnel with the tiny bones (brothers and sisters?), dodged the pitfalls and took poisoned soup in a silent kitchen. Whether she had as hard a hallucination as they did, he can't say. These trips tend to drip nightmares into a grounded, if false, reality. It happened last time. It happened this time. A Clown, a Spider. Eddie, twice.
Doesn't change that she was still treated like a goddamn pariah. Maybe there was a price on her head.]
Don't be. [Raspy, earnest. Ashamed.] I'm sorry. Those are...it's the kind of thing I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. To put a cliche to it.
But I mean it. They way they... [That maid. Callous as a crooked rock, didn't care what happened to the kid. That "thing." He didn't let Adolphe kill her, but he can't say he feels too sorry for leaving behind. He sighs, ragged.]
It's one thing to know, another thing to see. You deserved better.
No. [easily.] Death would come for me months later, in the spring.
[there's a little flicker of a thought, though. an image of a white man pinned down with a dagger at his throat, trying to convince her that he could still be useful with his slimy words. trying to tempt her with questions and no answers— don't you want to know which one tried to burn you alive as a baby? which one killed your mother?
and then it's gone.]
Don't be sorry, Rich. [she shakes her head, sighing. saying she's used to it probably doesn't help, but... she is used to it. it's just how it is. people don't always get what they deserve.] ... It was a long time ago. Before I was even old enough to remember it. Now if someone tries to kill me, I simply kill them first.
[The vision cuts through the muck of his own emotions. Richie watches him spin his bullshit and feels a swell of repulsion. Anger.
Burn her alive as a baby. Murder her mother in truth.
The man vanishes. He stares at the spot where he manifested, jaw locked tight and breathing with slow intent. There's a slimy son of a bitch if he ever saw one. Shit, he'd want to kill him too. Half does now, if he weren't laid up so low and lightyears away.]
...Handy thing that you're good at it. [Which should be a compliment, even if it feels backhanded the second after it leaves his mouth. He winces, shakes his head slow. And reaches for her hand, taking it in his own.] I just wish you never had to.
[The way her own husband looked at her in horror. The skeletons in the tunnel. The way the maid spoke about her, how the sneering bear of a man cooed out recollections of the violence done to her. Nothing but hell and scorn, her whole life.
There's a better world for you and it kills me you'll never get to see it.]
[purses her lips, expression pinched. maybe there is a better world somewhere out there, but... she shakes her head.]
There aren't any good options available to women in my world. [he knows what she is, so she's just gonna outright call herself a woman here. it is still very much the 17th century, unfortunately.] Who would I be, if I never had the need to pick up a sword? Another man's wife? A tolerable one at best, if I'm lucky.
[and the thought of it is... bad. she wasn't so keen on the idea of getting married off years ago. even less so now.]
I've accepted my lot in life. There's no need to feel sorry for me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week six, thursday.
anyway, we're at the hospital now.]
... What the hell happened to you?
no subject
Richie's face is presumably bandaged, glasses returned to him. His foot must also be in a cast and we assume his ass is bandaged, hope del and maomao had fun with that one.
There's a distinct reluctance to look Mizu in the eyes at the moment. And for a moment the dreamscape bleeds through — smoke on the air. Fire flickers somewhere out of sight, the sound prickling at their ears.
Richie flinches and shakes his head.]
It wasn't too different from last time. New life, new me. All of a night, though, no centuries beyond our years.
no subject
mizu startles a little when the smoke starts rolling in, though it doesn't last long enough for her to actually do anything about it. dreamscape jumpscares are her new enemy, after this week.]
... I see. It must have been one hell of a night. [slowly. and then, wondering how to breach the topic.] Was that all? You and Taair both kept — apologizing.
no subject
...Well. We weren't put there to party, I'll tell you that much. [He swallows thickly. Partly to steel himself but also to soothe his raw throat. The seawater was unkind to him.] We were...paid to slay a demon.
[Money. All for money, no questions asked. It makes his belly roll like the barrel of a laundry machine, a constant and queasy tumble.]
no subject
You were sellswords, then. [they really grabbed the people who don't know how to fight for this, huh.] ... What matter of demon were you asked to kill?
[she has a suspicion after that return thread, but.]
no subject
[Hilarious casting all around. I feel like we should have been rolling with disadvantage the whole time honestly.
He holds even with her, miraculously. Doesn't flinch away yet, slowly shakes his head.]
We didn't get details off the top. Just that it was on the sixth floor of a castle. Had to go through hell first to find out.
[There's another flash of dreamscape. A tunnel with skeletons, big and small. Swept up in water. Slaying a guard, the Indiana Jones run in a trap-laden hall, the kitchens with old faces, the grenade. Richie flinches as the visions go haywire as their minds do. Psychoactive drugs taking them on a gorey ride, watching Claude die a second time in a surreal, bloody haze.
A woman rushing the door, Richie striking out on instinct. Her deadly tumble down the stairs.
It's that part that gets his head bowing. Shame pushes him down and out from whatever seat of dignity he could claim.]
...It was you. As a baby.
no subject
and then there's that woman, and mizu freezes.]
What? [Why would I be—? baffled.] I recognize that castle. But it's one I fought my way through as I am now.
[as an adult. frowns, thinking...]
... I suppose the specifics don't matter. In the end, they took my experiences and used them to hurt you. And for that I am sorry, Rich.
no subject
...Is that where you passed away?
[They very much did set it on fire. And Mizu may have been fighting through it to find a different demon altogether. Could have swam through the tunnel with the tiny bones (brothers and sisters?), dodged the pitfalls and took poisoned soup in a silent kitchen. Whether she had as hard a hallucination as they did, he can't say. These trips tend to drip nightmares into a grounded, if false, reality. It happened last time. It happened this time. A Clown, a Spider. Eddie, twice.
Doesn't change that she was still treated like a goddamn pariah. Maybe there was a price on her head.]
Don't be. [Raspy, earnest. Ashamed.] I'm sorry. Those are...it's the kind of thing I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. To put a cliche to it.
But I mean it. They way they... [That maid. Callous as a crooked rock, didn't care what happened to the kid. That "thing." He didn't let Adolphe kill her, but he can't say he feels too sorry for leaving behind. He sighs, ragged.]
It's one thing to know, another thing to see. You deserved better.
no subject
[there's a little flicker of a thought, though. an image of a white man pinned down with a dagger at his throat, trying to convince her that he could still be useful with his slimy words. trying to tempt her with questions and no answers— don't you want to know which one tried to burn you alive as a baby? which one killed your mother?
and then it's gone.]
Don't be sorry, Rich. [she shakes her head, sighing. saying she's used to it probably doesn't help, but... she is used to it. it's just how it is. people don't always get what they deserve.] ... It was a long time ago. Before I was even old enough to remember it. Now if someone tries to kill me, I simply kill them first.
no subject
Burn her alive as a baby. Murder her mother in truth.
The man vanishes. He stares at the spot where he manifested, jaw locked tight and breathing with slow intent. There's a slimy son of a bitch if he ever saw one. Shit, he'd want to kill him too. Half does now, if he weren't laid up so low and lightyears away.]
...Handy thing that you're good at it. [Which should be a compliment, even if it feels backhanded the second after it leaves his mouth. He winces, shakes his head slow. And reaches for her hand, taking it in his own.] I just wish you never had to.
[The way her own husband looked at her in horror. The skeletons in the tunnel. The way the maid spoke about her, how the sneering bear of a man cooed out recollections of the violence done to her. Nothing but hell and scorn, her whole life.
There's a better world for you and it kills me you'll never get to see it.]
no subject
There aren't any good options available to women in my world. [he knows what she is, so she's just gonna outright call herself a woman here. it is still very much the 17th century, unfortunately.] Who would I be, if I never had the need to pick up a sword? Another man's wife? A tolerable one at best, if I'm lucky.
[and the thought of it is... bad. she wasn't so keen on the idea of getting married off years ago. even less so now.]
I've accepted my lot in life. There's no need to feel sorry for me.