priscilla | Forge Contact II

That was quick.

[ He sends her the coordinates. It's deep into Dismas. Very deep. ]

I'm very fast.

[And she blinks.]

You're practically at the back of the city.

[The click of her footsteps on the stairs - the sound echoes in the corridor, and she keeps her head down.]

Do you need anything?

It was necessary.

As for your question, no. I don't require anything.

[ Just Priscilla. Always just her. ]

[She passes a group of rowdy people with a little frown... and her footsteps slow noticeably, as she moves - her speed draining away, along with all the monstrous strength.]

[It's a little terrifying every time. And a little bit of a relief, too.]

Avoiding people? Or... avoiding the temptation to go back up?

...have you-- Hm. [Well, maybe she should wait to ask these things until she gets there? But no, then again maybe not. She frowns.]

--have you eaten?

A little of both, you might say.

[ It's quiet in the background on Isley's end, the only interruption of sound coming from the creak of his chair as he shifts from one position to another. ]

If there is such a thing as tempting the Fates, I would rather not push my luck... not this time. Perhaps never again. At least in Dismas there is the possibility of being able to subdue those ravenous urges to consume things.

Of course, it isn't as though I haven't made a valiant attempt to ingest other means of nourishment these last few days, Priscilla... only that the food humans eat happens to lack all the appeal it once possessed.

So, the answer to your second question is... no.

Mrmph. You have to--

[She takes a deep breath.]

It's not that I don't understand. Especially after so long, but... you need to eat something.

...what if I stay and have dinner with you?

There is nothing that I would love more... however, my current accommodations are not very... accommodating.

...what do you mean?

Ah... you will see when you get here, I suppose.

Needless to say, it's not at all to my taste, but it will suffice for the time being.

Well. It's just eating. I usually don't even sit down to do that.

...Isley.

There are a few things we need to discuss. Um. Obviously. Hopefully, it won't be too... strange. But... you may dislike some of it.

I've already told you, Priscilla. I'm prepared to accept the consequences of my actions.

[ ...Back on the fence. ]

I never once expected to emerge from this unscathed in any way, shape, or form, after all.

Do what you must. Say what you must. I'll adhere; you know I will.

I know. It's just... complicated.

I've been thinking about it a lot recently. ...well, I guess that's obvious too.

[ooc: OI how do you feel about... seguing to some low-key face-to-face, commentspamesque action logging RIGHT HERE IN THIS POST? Because she doesn't really want to say anything in voice mail, although I can kick her and make her do it if that's better.]

We will continue this conversation when you arrive, then.

[ OOC: I'm down with that. I had actually prepared something while I was at work... as a sort of guideline to the dive he's staying in, etc. In the event something like this popped up. ^^; I'll go ahead and throw it up here in a second comment. ]

[ Picture a box. It has four walls, a ceiling and a floor.

Now, take that box and give it a door. Just one, door, nothing over the top. No windows. Just a standard entrance no more than thirty-two inches in diameter.

The box, as you know it, has now become a room. Admittedly, it isn't much of a room, but it is still a room, nevertheless...

...In fact, it's Isley's room.

Stains deface the old concrete walls, and the floor is stripped bare, littered with various traces from the room's previous occupants before him. A timeworn missionary bed hugs the far right corner of the room, and a bare bulb glows dimly from the cracked, clay-colored ceiling. A table and two chairs is nestled into the far left corner. A wash basin sits next to the door on an overturned barrel.

It is the best of the worst Dismas has to offer, and the very last place anyone would expect to find Isley, the great Silver King of the North.

And the Silver King himself?

Sits composed upon the edge of the bed, staring down at his Forge and awaiting the arrival of the best, and worst thing to have ever happened to him.

Priscilla. ]

[She arrives after a reasonable amount of time - though it seems excessively long to her, being unused to traveling at human speeds. It isn't as though she spends much time in Dismas after all.]

[Adding onto the travel time: five minutes to stop at a shop for a small bag of food - fruit, meat, some kind of mixed fruit juice.]

[Still, she gets there - through the unpleasant streets, and the unpleasant company, to the door she'd come to find. It takes one long breath and three long seconds to get up the nerve to knock.]

Isley?

[ Rising, the Abyssal One takes four long-legged strides and stands before the door, drawing it open so that he might look down into the eyes of the one calling his name.

The cloak she gave him upon the day of his arrival in the upper city is around his shoulders.

Somehow he manages to look dignified, even with the hovel as his backdrop. ]

Come in. And... my apologies in advance, but I did warn you.

[ That the room was not at all accommodating. ]

[She smiles a little, though it manages to come off.... well. Somewhere in the realm between uncomfortable, tense and fond. Then again, maybe the fondness is mostly in the eyes.]

I don't care. I used to sleep in the ruins, didn't I tell you that?

That's a little... weird, by the way. I mean. The monsters... you know. Sometimes you wake up, and there's... [Huge insects, mansized carnivorous beasts, snakes crawling up your leg...] Anyway, the point is, it's a room.

[She nods a little, and watches his face. Somehow she even manages to avoid meditating on how out of place he looks here. Instead, she holds out the bag.]

There are some fruits. Annnd.... some meats, and-- well, you can see for yourself. Can I come in?

[ Isley steps out of the way to permit Priscilla into the rented space, his eyes upon the bag that she is holding out... a look of near-disdain flickering in his eyes before it is gone again, almost imagined. ]

You shouldn't have.

[ To which he is referring it is unclear, but regardless of that, he leaves Priscilla no time to reply, and leaves her with the bag, no less.

Ushering her inside and closing the door behind her, he starts back toward the bed and takes a seat. One of the two chairs opposite the bed, at the table, is offered to her by a simple gesture of his hand. ]

Let's skip right to the chase, shall we? Take a seat and we can begin.

[She sighs a little, and holds the bag closer to her as she takes the offered seat.]

You really are stubborn.

[The bag lies on her lap, between her hands, which lie palms up on her knees. And she watches him, the way she always does. And part of her wants to touch him... but she doesn't.]

I don't think I've told you much... about what happened to me. Um.

It was ten months ago tonight, actually. After a party on the Ceolsige. I went home early... and... left just before dawn, when it was still dark.

...I was only a few steps away from the headquarters when something just. Negated my-- I lost all my abilities. Everything. And then there was pain. And then nothing.

The next thing I remember, I was curled up in a corner in Senji's bedroom.

It took a long time... for my mind to become whole again. I remember telling you about that part. The amnesia. The confusion.

...anyway, I don't mean to babble. The point is, even after my mind came back together there was one thing I could never, ever get back.

My handler.

I remember I had one. I remember his purpose. But I don't remember his face, or his personality, or his name... At first I thought it was just me, but there are others who have... come back, and they always come back different. They... lose memories, or they lose their minds. For a while, anyway. Yazoo was odd, too, when he returned.

[Her fingers close a little, curling inward to touch her palm.]

I... I think I'm taking too long to explain this. I mean, I'm talking around the point... a little.

[ Isley waited for Priscilla to sit, and to begin speaking. While she spoke, he did not utter a word. He did nothing that would interrupt her, nodding here and there only when appropriate, and so as to keep from appearing like a statue that was staring her down.

At first he was not sure of the direction she was headed with her story. Truth be told, he still wasn't sure, but he had a vague idea.

Changes... memories lost. This was about his having told her he would take his own life, if he wasn't mistaken. So, then... was she afraid he might forget her if that happened?

...How truly terrible that would be. For her. For him. For all of Anatole. ]

You're worried I might forget you if I die... is that it, Priscilla? The point you are trying to make?

[ It wasn't something he wanted to have happen, even if things had been much easier before she had come along. He rather liked the way she complicated him. He liked it a lot. ]

Yes. But it's not just that. It's...

My point is... I can't ever let you die. The reasons are practical, and personal.

...you know the personal ones. [Her voice softens, for a moment.] I'm sure you do. [And then... back to business.]

But for the practical ones. I keep thinking, with someone like you... if you came back mad, the city might not survive the time it took to wear off.

If you came back and didn't remember me, that would be worse.

[Much worse. She watches her hands on her knees, now.]

Even just the risk is too much. But that... puts us in a very strange position, doesn't it? Because you can't be executed. You can't be imprisoned. Even in Dismas - if you were actually willing to kill yourself... anyone who dies just returns to the surface. They could only hold you as long as you chose to be held.

I was stuck on that for a long time. What to do.

Edited 2010-12-15 21:37 (UTC)

[ Behind closed eyes Isley imagines the catastrophic results his wrath would have upon the whole of Anatole. It is necessary to control his expression, to keep a wistful smile from materializing upon his lips.

Would the destruction of this city be as memorable as that of Pieta? Would the lights blinking out one by one be as beautiful to behold from the distance?

It was difficult to say without any who might appreciate the macabre attraction at his side. ]

I would suggest the alternative of imprisoning me here, in Dismas, however... [ His eyes open, boring into Priscilla's. ] ...I suspect this would also dissatisfy you. Certainly it would me, whether I was willing or not, although I suppose it would depend almost entirely upon the duration and terms of the imprisonment.

[ A beat. ]

That said, the point that you have made is beyond valid; we're stuck, for the moment, going around in circles, without a solution to either of our positions... and without a means of putting this behind us strictly for the sake of moving forward.

I dislike being stagnant, Priscilla... I would much rather come to some sort of compromise than grow inactive.

Something is better than nothing at all.

I'm not going in circles. Isley.

[She lifts her head, watching him closely. And her face is serious, for once, without its normal girlishness - the child hidden behind the warrior, and the person behind the leader.]

I'm not stupid. I try to think the best of you, because I want to, and because I... care about you. And, I guess, because I understand struggling with... dark things that... sometimes are more appealing than standing in the light. Because every time I use my power, I feel it pulling me in, and every time I feel it, I want to go. A little more than I did the last time. It gets really...

...well. My point is, I guess I could relate. A little. But I'm still not stupid.

And... I was thinking. All this time, every time you've said you wanted to change, or wanted... redemption. You never said it was for you, or for principle. Just for me. You never even denied it when I asked.

[Her face remains calm. Instead, the tension in her body finds its way to her hands, which clench a little, tightening into fists.]

Then I thought... even if you were starving, it probably couldn't bring out something that isn't in you. It probably only made it harder to avoid... the things you wanted to do anyway. And then I thought... maybe the only reason you haven't been doing these things this entire time is because you didn't want me to go away.

Is that right?

[...]

You may as well tell me. It won't change what I say... or do, or offer you.

[...probably.]

Edited 2010-12-17 18:06 (UTC)

Priscilla, what things do you think I want to do, exactly?

[ From the bed Isley rises, an imperial look in his eyes, and in the manner in which he holds himself. ]

It's not as though I actively seek the destruction of Anatole. As remarkable as I am sure it would be, the city would heal in almost the same way that you or I do. Before I could lay to waste the entire foundation it would simply begin restoring itself, little by little. And, as tempting as it would be to level everything in order to see it rise on its own from the ashes, I'm not in any hurry to uselessly expend my energy to no avail.

[ A slight tilt of his head, silver hair tumbling over his shoulders. ]

Or is it that you think I would deliberately go out of my way to harm people here? Have you considered what I would have to gain from that? Because, my dear Priscilla, I can tell you now... there's nothing. Nothing at all.

[ He begins to pace, from one side of the room to the other, each step slow and deliberate, buying him time to choose his words carefully, to formulate in his mind his argument. ]

I absolutely want you to remain at my side, yes, of course. I would be mad if I did not want this. There are several reasons aside from the obvious, that I love you. That I would die for you if need be; have in the past, and would do so again... anything for you. However, I would be a fool to deliberately drive you away when you are the only ally that I have in this city. Without you I stand alone surrounded by countless adversaries. Luciela and Riful, the other warriors from the Organization, Jennifer, and who knows who else.

I dare say, Aizen could become problematic... but that is less a concern of yours, and more a private matter of mine.

[ Dismissively he waves his hand, then turns to face Priscilla once more, hands dropping, but held out to either side of him, palms exposed in a gesture of candor. ]

Nevertheless, you can see where I stand. I have never gone out of my way to hide anything from you. Not my nature, not what motivates me, not even my mistakes. I have been very forthright with you, and I will continue to be.

You are my reason for everything.

[ The sun at the center of his universe. What warms him... and what could just as easily destroy him. ]

I will never be perfect... In fact, there is no doubt in my heart that I am, in your eyes, more flawed than any man could ever be, simply due to what I am. But there is nothing in this world, or any other that may exist, that is without flaws, Priscilla. Nothing.

Everyone makes mistakes. The act of redemption is not something that can occur in the bat of an eye. It takes time. Perseverance. A heart that will remain steadfast... in order to keep me from diverging.

After all... I am too far gone to do this on my own.

[For a long time, she stays quiet, watching him - his hands, and his face, and the way he holds himself. And her fingers close and unclose, once... fiddling as she listens, and thinks, and then listens to her own thinking, which for once is fairly clear.]

[Nothing clears her mind like a dangerous situation. Particularly if she isn't the one under the greatest threat.]

[All right then. A steadying breath.]

I'm not trying to argue with you. I just need to know... what I'm dealing with.

It's not that I think you'd just kill everything for no reason. [Not necessarily. The truth is she wasn't - isn't - sure about that.] ...but I think you like to hurt people. Even if you wouldn't do it just to do it, I think you like it, when you do.

And I...

[Her hands turn over, nails digging just slightly into her knees.]

I don't know if I'd say I think you're... flawed exactly. You are what you are. I already knew that... even if I didn't really know what it meant entirely, I knew what it might mean.

And... I don't really want to be your reason for everything. That's... a lot to put on me.

[...]

Do you regret it? For any reason other than... because we ended up here, having this talk?

...did you kill Sakura, too?

Edited 2010-12-18 19:16 (UTC)

Forge Contact II

Isley and I are not THINGS, thank you.

...well he's kind of...

STARE

HEY RIFUL CALLS PRISCILLA A 'THING'!

Yeah, and Riful's one to talk.

Riful's such a brat, seriously.

She really is. A mangy little bratling!

MY INNER DAUF OBJECTS TO THIS CHARATERIZATION OF HIS BELOVED!

... grabby hands at Dauf

LOL! I thought about apping him but I think he'd conflict with Pris due to the torture.

Fair enough -- also, ROFL, this is like having a "last meal" or something...

/tolls some bells, LOL

[ 1 of 2 ]

[ 2 of 2 ]

...this room: A NEW WAY TO TEAR HER HEART OUT

Which is purely unintentional. He just doesn't want to be found, so avoids his usual room type.

Makes sense! But it makes her want to pet him. :| WHICH SHE WILL RESIST.

...Not sure how she resists. What I'd give to pet him. Mmf.

She has had TONS OF PRACTICE resisting the urge to pet him. :|

Well, I say she stops resisting!

...business before petting! P-petting comes later. >.>

no subject

>.< Sorry for the inbox spam; I started nitpicking the phrasing and something had to give.

Don't worry about it~! S-sorry that this has turned into an essay...

SHUT UP, that was AWESOME... I'M. SO. SORRY. I KEPT THINKING SHE SHOULD ASK, BUT I FORGOT, AAH!)