[ah, the altar. a different wiš'adel, one who remembered, would be sickened and enraged by seeing it-- qalid'čoa impassively describing what happened. "the present of sarkaz needed her to die. the future of sarkaz needed her to live. she was a sacrifice to the myriad souls, to kazdel, to all the past and future sarkaz."
but she doesn't, now. she doesn't know her. she doesn't care. make her scream-- yeah, she'd like that. it won't sate her, but maybe it'll help take the edge off.
maybe it's something stuck under the surface that makes her choose this, something she remembers only subconsciously that leads her to sink the blade right into one of theresa's hands.]
but, and it's just so unfair, but as soon as she does, the wound on wis'adel's hand also flares with pain. the feeling of a knife going into theresa's hand triggers the same feeling in her.]
[she hisses in pain as she feels that stab, yanking the knife back out. the woman is screaming. that's what she was supposed to do, right? so why is she being hurt for this?
anger flares in her, and she drives the knife back in. again. try it again.]
[good, huh... well. at least it's something. it's somewhere to aim the blade that she is.
she doesn't have anything to grieve, without knowing anything about herself-- but she can make this woman regret whatever she's done to get here.
i'm just gonna tell you now that this will continue, regardless of any pain feedback she might get. she's good at this, at harming someone without letting them die.]
[good. we don't have to roleplay it all out, then. the woman will scream, try to remind wis'adel who she is, ask her to stop. but after she finishes her work, she will be led back to a barracks.
she was so enthusiastic that she's not locked in. and there is a guy waiting in there as well.]
Wow. It's one thing to comply, no one likes a beating, but you really do take it to another level.
I don't even know who they are! What the fuck do you want me to do, then?
[she already doesn't remember herself, or this guy. what does he expect? how is she supposed to know what to be, or not to be-- if they apparently do this to her a lot, then is there going to be a point she becomes one of them just because she doesn't know she shouldn't?
she almost asks, why shouldn't she... but as little as she trusts in general, she does feel more inclined to listen to him than to the woman who just told her to start torturing.]
[yes, and that's the problem, because no matter how many times you can have this conversation, they can take it away.]
People who want you to obey them, and tell you to hurt whoever they say you should hurt. That's who they are.
[the cost of saying no to it is high. it's not like that's the right answer. maybe the only way out is to do exactly as you're told, always, and live another day, while still holding on to the one piece of your heart that still wants to rebel.]
[if she remembers nothing again? then no, not really. it'll be the same this time too-- bearing the pain if it happens again, inflicting more of it on her.
even if any uncertainty lingers, that doesn't change the way this goes; all she knows to do is get this over with. make sure it's not her in this woman's place.]
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but she doesn't, now. she doesn't know her. she doesn't care. make her scream-- yeah, she'd like that. it won't sate her, but maybe it'll help take the edge off.
maybe it's something stuck under the surface that makes her choose this, something she remembers only subconsciously that leads her to sink the blade right into one of theresa's hands.]
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but, and it's just so unfair, but as soon as she does, the wound on wis'adel's hand also flares with pain. the feeling of a knife going into theresa's hand triggers the same feeling in her.]
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[she hisses in pain as she feels that stab, yanking the knife back out. the woman is screaming. that's what she was supposed to do, right? so why is she being hurt for this?
anger flares in her, and she drives the knife back in. again. try it again.]
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Well done. You can endure.
[approval! keep going, then?]
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wiš'adel twists the blade, this time, before pulling it free; she hilts it in theresa's shoulder next.]
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she doesn't have anything to grieve, without knowing anything about herself-- but she can make this woman regret whatever she's done to get here.
i'm just gonna tell you now that this will continue, regardless of any pain feedback she might get. she's good at this, at harming someone without letting them die.]
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she was so enthusiastic that she's not locked in. and there is a guy waiting in there as well.]
Wow. It's one thing to comply, no one likes a beating, but you really do take it to another level.
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[does she know this guy? even if she doesn't, she's finding somewhere to sit and kick her feet up. her hands still have blood on them.]
If you wanna be next, I can arrange that.
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No thanks. I always enjoy you the least on the first day after they erase your memories.
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Why do you give a shit, anyway.
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They do it to you a lot more than the rest of us. No idea why, since I cause trouble and you're always so happy to do what you're told.
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[but what else is she supposed to do? (if he's not full of shit, if they are friends of some sort, has she ever asked that question?)
her tail lashes, annoyed.]
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[he does talk shit with the cadence of someone who is like, used to talking shit with you.]
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And what if I do?
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Then I feel sorry for you.
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Good thing I don't need anybody to feel sorry for me.
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[she already doesn't remember herself, or this guy. what does he expect? how is she supposed to know what to be, or not to be-- if they apparently do this to her a lot, then is there going to be a point she becomes one of them just because she doesn't know she shouldn't?
she almost asks, why shouldn't she... but as little as she trusts in general, she does feel more inclined to listen to him than to the woman who just told her to start torturing.]
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People who want you to obey them, and tell you to hurt whoever they say you should hurt. That's who they are.
[the cost of saying no to it is high. it's not like that's the right answer. maybe the only way out is to do exactly as you're told, always, and live another day, while still holding on to the one piece of your heart that still wants to rebel.]
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Fine, then who am I to you.
[how is she any different. why does it matter.]
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[but then there's the sound of footsteps in the hallway. it seems to jolt him, like he knows he shouldn't be here, talking.]
I'd probably better go.
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[making shooing motions... go on, then, don't get in trouble.
and let her think about this in private.]
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and then back to theresa. same situation - no memory of anything but her warrior cats name, person on the altar, tools, vague instructions.
any changes to how she acts? or no?]
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even if any uncertainty lingers, that doesn't change the way this goes; all she knows to do is get this over with. make sure it's not her in this woman's place.]