[well she will if she can! she would love to stab this bitch. she will take the blow across the chest and grip the shaft of the spear with both hands and try to wrench back control of it. if the end of the spear is against her stomach, then doesn't that mean the point is facing the dark justiciar?
because she would love to drive this blade through her.]
[ it does mean that, and she can absolutely drive the blade through her - its aim is a little off, because it slides off the heavily armored breastplate, but finds its mark at the attacker's weaker shoulderjoint - puncturing through the chainmail beneath with a sickening crunch of metal and flesh. she screams, but mostly in rage, and rips the spear back.
she's sending one heavily gauntleted fist at Shadowheart's face with a punch, and then following up to try and stab her back, a horrible shouting scuffle. self-same. ]
[if it's the self same then she should also be allowed armor and weapons! getting punched in the goddamn face, spitting out the blood, and trying to defend herself.]
[ she'll put up a valiant fight, but she didn't prepare a good strategy for this fight. even injured, a fully-armored dark justiciar is so powerful. she can practically throw her across the room like a ragdoll, and casts horrible silence spells to prevent her from even arguing or using magic in her own defense.
it's more of this, the beating, the struggling, the toying with her like a cat with a mouse until the wound on her shoulder starts slowing her down. she's tired.
and shadowheart will hear a voice in her head. ]
`You could never be replaced. You know that. You could finish this.`
[god. she's glad she's as much of a bitch as ever. for a moment, she feels sorry for the shadowheart who can toss her around like she's some kind of imaginary execution shadowheart.
but god, she doesn't want to die, either. gritting her teeth, trying to catch her breath. looking up at the woman in front of her, spitting blood.]
Did you know that she's offering to toss you aside?
[maybe she doesn't matter to anyone either, but at least she has no illusions about that.]
[ that does make this other self pause. and then look angry. isn't that a bit pathetic too, to be so hurt, so devastated, by this casual cruelty of a goddess who's nature she must surely know by now.
she screams in frustration. ]
But-- I did as you asked! I killed them for you!
[ funnily enough, you get the distinct sense you might know who them is. ]
[of course she did. shadowheart already knows that, even though she hasn't wanted to think of it. flashes of memory here and there. the way the encounter with the wolf ended. the flashes of a person with a face that moves from familiar to unfamiliar, the sense she carries with her, always, that there are things in her past, just outside her memory, that are unforgivable.
what she doesn't know is whether what this shadowheart is screaming about is a possible future or her own past.
and she doesn't think she would like to know, actually. she would very much like not to know. she will try to get to her feet and while dj shart is screaming, drive the knife between her ribs.]
It is always a lie, you stupid child.
[how could she believe her, how could she think all of this pain and sacrifice was worth it. at least she can live with pain. no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much she's bruised and battered, she can live with it, she can endure it. no armor or heavy gauntlets or magic spear blessed by a goddess will ever protect her as much as that]
[ she's unprepared for it, because despite everything, all of the training, all of the emptying herself of emotions, of memories, of loyalties and hope, she is still a child. a child who wants nothing more than to be chosen by someone despite it all.
it's shocking enough that she barely makes a sound as it slides beneath the edge of the breastplate and into her chest - filling her lungs with blood as she begins to choke on it, struggling to try and push at shadowheart and fight her off.
one stab probably isn't enough to finish the job. ]
[good, because she's fine with this. she'll stab her again and again. anywhere she can get beneath the armor. she knows the places to drive the knife in, where it will only hurt and where it will bleed a lot and where it won't be possible to survive. it's like an instinct, the way despite her amnesia she knows which direction the sun rises and falls and that she loves night orchids and can't swim.]
They were my family, you monster! [into the lung, a twist, puncture it. again in the side, where the plates don't cover. dig deep into the abdomen.] They were mine. What did you do to them? [into the neck, letting the blood spray. it doesn't matter.] How could you, how could you? [she'll stab and stab until it's enough, like she can avenge them somehow, but avenge them from a crime she can remember her own hands committing in motions so similar to this.]
[ she's going to get blood in her nice new hairdo ...
the sharran doesn't reply again, already bleeding out and fading into darkness, into an embrace she so desperately wished for. she has no answers, no questions, and there is no satisfaction in the act. only blood and rage.
she can keep stabbing as long as she likes, until there's nothing left to do, but eventually there's nothing but silence. and darkness.
[it's fine it happens. once you long rest it comes right out.
she turns around, suddenly all too aware of the blood on her hands, on her face and hair, the knife and the wounds on her hand from using it so recklessly. it's not exactly a nice image of her to come upon. that unbreakable drive to survive and not care what she has to do and who is in her way as long as she can keep going for another moment; the deep well of anger at everyone who has ever hurt her and more than anything at herself for letting them -- both desert her abruptly. she just feels disgusting. fragile and desperate like a caged animal, biting at everything but aware of how little it changed anything.
[ richie emerges from a shadowed corner - out of breath, like he's been running and desperately looking for her - and looks instantly relieved to see her despite her blood-streaked appearance.
he kneels down and reaches with his one hand to take the knife from her, gentle. ]
I found you. I was looking all over, shit-- are you okay?
[a memory crossing her mind, another odd conversation. someone different that time, karlach. but... she doesn't have quite the same foggy feeling now.]
I would have taken you with me because I wouldn't ever leave you in this miserable place. But you don't know about them. You cannot know whether they are even alive, because you do not know that I even have cause to wonder about that.
[ his skin starts to burst at the seams, and the sense in the air, in every cell of her skin, is filled with a deep and gnawing envy for the world. She resents everyone who has had such an easy life growing up, anyone who had loving parents to protect them from the world. she is sickeningly jealous of all the ways in which others get to live their lives with freedom and joy, with all of their memories even. Even the bad memories bring something.
she feels her insides writhe with it, that envious feeling, that crawls beneath her skin and settles in like a contagion that will never be loosened. everyone, and everything, and the world, should pay for this. ]
Why do you need everything explained to you?! Are you a child? Are you an idiot? All I want is to see it! I need to see it all-- and you won't let me!
[ and as the creature lunges at her, everything goes white. ]
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holyspirits) wrote2025-03-23 03:14 pm
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because she would love to drive this blade through her.]
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she's sending one heavily gauntleted fist at Shadowheart's face with a punch, and then following up to try and stab her back, a horrible shouting scuffle. self-same. ]
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it's more of this, the beating, the struggling, the toying with her like a cat with a mouse until the wound on her shoulder starts slowing her down. she's tired.
and shadowheart will hear a voice in her head. ]
`You could never be replaced. You know that. You could finish this.`
[ shar. ]
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but god, she doesn't want to die, either. gritting her teeth, trying to catch her breath. looking up at the woman in front of her, spitting blood.]
Did you know that she's offering to toss you aside?
[maybe she doesn't matter to anyone either, but at least she has no illusions about that.]
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she screams in frustration. ]
But-- I did as you asked! I killed them for you!
[ funnily enough, you get the distinct sense you might know who them is. ]
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what she doesn't know is whether what this shadowheart is screaming about is a possible future or her own past.
and she doesn't think she would like to know, actually. she would very much like not to know. she will try to get to her feet and while dj shart is screaming, drive the knife between her ribs.]
It is always a lie, you stupid child.
[how could she believe her, how could she think all of this pain and sacrifice was worth it. at least she can live with pain. no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much she's bruised and battered, she can live with it, she can endure it. no armor or heavy gauntlets or magic spear blessed by a goddess will ever protect her as much as that]
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it's shocking enough that she barely makes a sound as it slides beneath the edge of the breastplate and into her chest - filling her lungs with blood as she begins to choke on it, struggling to try and push at shadowheart and fight her off.
one stab probably isn't enough to finish the job. ]
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They were my family, you monster! [into the lung, a twist, puncture it. again in the side, where the plates don't cover. dig deep into the abdomen.] They were mine. What did you do to them? [into the neck, letting the blood spray. it doesn't matter.] How could you, how could you? [she'll stab and stab until it's enough, like she can avenge them somehow, but avenge them from a crime she can remember her own hands committing in motions so similar to this.]
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the sharran doesn't reply again, already bleeding out and fading into darkness, into an embrace she so desperately wished for. she has no answers, no questions, and there is no satisfaction in the act. only blood and rage.
she can keep stabbing as long as she likes, until there's nothing left to do, but eventually there's nothing but silence. and darkness.
though the dark, a voice calls out: ]
Shadowheart ... ?
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she turns around, suddenly all too aware of the blood on her hands, on her face and hair, the knife and the wounds on her hand from using it so recklessly. it's not exactly a nice image of her to come upon. that unbreakable drive to survive and not care what she has to do and who is in her way as long as she can keep going for another moment; the deep well of anger at everyone who has ever hurt her and more than anything at herself for letting them -- both desert her abruptly. she just feels disgusting. fragile and desperate like a caged animal, biting at everything but aware of how little it changed anything.
who is there, then?]
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he kneels down and reaches with his one hand to take the knife from her, gentle. ]
I found you. I was looking all over, shit-- are you okay?
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Not really. But we should get out of here.
[before something else happens. she definitely can't defend them like this.]
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We should. Or at least - you should. There's only so much time - they're going to notice, that you've been gone this long.
Listen, I know where they are. Your parents. They aren't dead. And I can help you get to them.
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[she sort of blinks back at him, too surprised by him saying this to know how to react.]
My parents?
[how would he know? she hasn't even mentioned this to him.]
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[ he pauses, and frowns. ]
I can help. You just need to take me with you.
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What does this have to do with my parents? Of course I wouldn't leave you, but...
[what exactly is he talking about.]
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If you bring me with you, I can help you find your parents. It's that simple! What's with all the questions?
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I would have taken you with me because I wouldn't ever leave you in this miserable place. But you don't know about them. You cannot know whether they are even alive, because you do not know that I even have cause to wonder about that.
What do you really want from me...?
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I don't want you to leave me! Please, take me with you!
[ but it sounds less like richie, now. it's that funny feeling of starting to wake up from a dream, as light floods in through the window.
last call: yes or no? ]
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No. Not if you won't explain.
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she feels her insides writhe with it, that envious feeling, that crawls beneath her skin and settles in like a contagion that will never be loosened. everyone, and everything, and the world, should pay for this. ]
Why do you need everything explained to you?! Are you a child? Are you an idiot? All I want is to see it! I need to see it all-- and you won't let me!
[ and as the creature lunges at her, everything goes white. ]