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Post by Nephele on Sept 7, 2023 0:05:21 GMT -5
What is love?
A question many have tried to answer, and only a select few have inched toward understanding. They'll blunt in its phrasing it is not so easy to acquire an answer, especially from those who have never experienced its embrace. Sometimes love is fire, other times water, though two embraces are never the same when one is in love. Yet love can also be tragic, a morose tale spoken in caution and hushed whispers that triggered a misophonia.
The love of a fey was never to be taken lightly, nor was it to be taken away. Possessive to a point of insanity, the feyfolk were not known for being gracious people. They were known for keeping to their ideals and causing a bit of mischief here and there, but the one thing that everyone knew was that one never touched a fey’s treasure. For that is what they loved the most: what was theirs.
These mistakes made by foolish mortals often led to horrific ends, such as generational curses or the destruction of one’s entire existence. The amount of children who had become an eternal part of the fairy circles that seldom littered Charon and the Land of Wonder were immense. The amount of selfish old men that were boiled and fed to the red caps when they decided to back out of a deal with the Old Grandmother… revenge was a beautiful thing, mercy a foreign one.
Take Nephele for example.
Her and C’Leena’s last few days in the Crescent Isles had been fruitful, beautiful even. They had met with Cyran and built a strong bond with one another, something Nephele never would have foreseen in all 22 years of her existence. When her fiance had suggested granting said friend the title of man of honor, a name that she already knew upon hearing it was a beautiful gift to bestow, she was all aglow. Nephele marveled in the fact that she had made it so far, that for some reason the gods had smiled upon her so brightly to grant her someone who went beyond the veil of treasure and desire.
Love that rivaled some of the strongest and most ridiculous love stories. The word itself was too foolish to fully encapsulate how she felt whenever she would see her fiance walking back to whatever hole they had bought up residency for the night, grinning and waving at her from where the nymph hung out of the window. Nephele would envelop C’Leena in hugs that were warm, despite their shared body heat. Most times she would tell her what she was doing while away, a gift of their own. Sometimes she didn't even have the energy to remove her prosthetics before slumping into Nephele's arms, and the nymph would happily drag the both of them to bed, even if it took her 10-15 minutes to drag her up the steps. She would do it a million times if she was allotted.
And she should have been able to do so tonight.
C’Leena had gone on one of her escapades, as she tended to. Nephele chose to stay behind, as she tended to. She figured she would come back when she was ready, and would have a whole plethora of adventures to share. Some she would grin at, some she would laugh at, and some she would find herself scowling an unhealthy amount to the point where it hurts her face. But like usual, the scowl would be placated by a peck to the lips and a series of heavily accented teases.
Except… it had been three hours.
This wasn't an issue at first. Nephele was fine with C’Leena roaming where she wanted when she wanted. Sometimes she just wanted to discover things on her own, and the nymph completely understood. She had been on her own for a good amount of years and enjoyed it, who is she to take that from someone?
Three. Hours.
Too many hours, Nephele decided. The territorial instinct in her was screaming for her to leave and find C'Leena. She sat on the bed, wearing the strange article of clothing that C’Leena had dubbed a “hoodie” and fiddling with a loose string. Usually she would be back by now, plus she left during the day and told her she'd be back soon. Soon was not three hours. Soon meant soon.
Nephele was going stir crazy. The part of her that itched to demand answers tingled in the back of her head. Where was she? Where was she? Where the hell was she??
Finally she stood up, changing into her own clothing to take a walk through the town. The hood was pulled over her face so she wasn't recognized by her old peers, And she cut her eyes along the long tangled markets, the docks, even chancing to get a little closer to her old dojo. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.
And then all at once, something. Something too bright. Something too familiar.
The pendant.
Nephele found herself frozen in space. She stared down at it, the obsidian pendant that she had lovingly crafted for her fiancé. The one thing, other than her ring, that C’Leena never took off. One of her first gifts. The chain was broken, as if it was caught in something and then yanked off with excessive, uncaring force. The fey woman walked closer, dragging her feet, cradling it in her hands. It was cold against her skin. Nephele was silent.
“Miss?” A voice nearby perhaps, trying to get her attention and see if she was alright. She wasn't. There was a hand on her shoulder then. “Miss, are you okay? Did you lose something?”
And then the hand abruptly shrunk away, as the expression on Nephele's face had morphed. It was equal parts angry and crazed, eyes going unnaturally wide and round like pitch black lamplight; the stars in her eyes were burned out. “Someone stole her.”
It's all Nephele says, before bumping her shoulder against the person. She began to walk, no materials, no nothing really. They were dragging marks on the ground into an alley, that was as good a place as any to start. Nephele didn't know where she was walking, but she didn't have to. Someone stole her treasure, and she was getting her back.
After all, the fey were notoriously persistent.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Sept 7, 2023 0:49:27 GMT -5
It is common knowledge that C'Leena is impulsive to an absurd degree. That has only been exacerbated from the lack of medication over the months. Hell, C'Leena and Nepheles entire relationship was started on C'Leena's impulsiveness. This has remained a constant over the course of their relationship, Nephele often having to practically drag C'Leena away from what her attention was arrested by.
Her frequent trips into the deeper cities or forests, either with or without Nephele were mostly spurred on by curiosity and a sense of wonder that hasn't died off since coming to Charon. Nepheles wanderlust has without a doubt rubbed off on C'Leena in almost every conceivable way.
Love for C'Leena is complex and hard for her to explain, even in her own mind. It's a new feeling to her, despite having loved others plenty of times. There is a certain feeling on having that love reciprocated 100% that never fails to bring a smile to her face. Love for her is.. A particular laugh. The chill of a coldblooded Nymph and waking up to brilliant greens, reds and purples dancing across the walls. The countless constellations, both in her eyes and in the skies above. A foreign sky, but one she finds endless comfort in staring into, even if it confuses Nephele.
The occurrences at Mt. Drakolt put that all to the test. C'Leena's undying loyalty, her iron will to ensure the safety of her beloved and determination to do what needs to be done, despite her own feelings on her actions. She dearly hoped nothing of the sort would happen again.
Unfortunately, that was not meant to be.
C'Leena had left earlier in the day to simply explore. Go places she's not supposed to be, interact with people around the city and have some time to exercise. She invited Nephele to come along, but she had declined for one reason or another. When Nephele isn't with her, she's always back within an hour, hour and a half at most.
It's been three.
She hardly remembers what happened. She was walking down an alleyway, on her way back to the inn after a surprisingly mundane day when she felt something clasp around her neck, and everything went dark. Her body went limp, breathing became labored and her heartbeat quickly became faint, functioning barely enough to keep her alive.
She doesn't know how long it has been between being taken and now, but all she knows is extreme discomfort. C'Leena cannot see, despite her eyes being open. She feels her arms above her head, her body hanging from the ceiling by her wrists. She's confused, scared and more than a little ticked off. Primarily because she cannot feel the pendant.
"Rise and shine, darling." Says a masculine voice. A surprisingly familiar one, at that. Despite herself, she feels a grin worm it's way onto her features.
"Old mate? Lordie lord, bud, I'd say nice to see you but can't really see much of anything." She says in forced bravado. A soft growl comes from the old man, and footsteps begin to circle her. This is a particular individual part of the Dial Fractum she met while just trying to get some drinks with Kamille.
The footsteps stop, and metallic clinking rings out from what she assumes is a nearby bench. "You know the Dial Fractum. You know what we stand for - what we work towards day-in and day-out. You are the antitheses to our goal. Especially after your particular stunts with that witch, people haven't been too pleased with you being around."
"Here is what's going to happen. Soon enough, you'll be put to sleep, and you won't wake up. We're going to ensure that your corpse is as mundane as they come."
As much as C'Leena would love to say otherwise, she's terrified. "Were you not listening when we first met, mate? You think I was full of shit when I said you'd know no peace? You've fucked yourself, well and truly."
Theres a small pause, before a quiet chuckle. "You just keep telling yourself that."
The footsteps start again, and stop infront of C'Leena. The man quietly speaks some incantations before C'Leena's mind goes blank, and she is forced into an unwilful slumber.
What is love?
Love is trust. Love is faith. Love is knowing that, no matter what happens, you will do anything for your other half. Love is willfully staining brilliant blue with crimson red. Painting the walls with those that dare get between you and the one you love.
Nobody fucks with a Fey's lover, because given enough time, you'll understand what happens when you do.
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Post by Nephele on Sept 7, 2023 1:58:32 GMT -5
Nephele had been reduced to this state only a few times before: counting every minute that passed while she searched. Her feet were lead, and yet while they dragged, they were strong. Her hands trembled in fury, but they gently ran across the indentation of her initial carved into the obsidian, feeling the crack in the groove. Her eyes were dark, yet full of purpose. A swirl of juxtapositions, such was Nephele's very nature.
It took her a while to get a lead, and the only reason that she got one at all was from listening to a small bout of gossip. Whilst walking toward a fork in the alley she stumbled upon a group of three. Three men, it looked like, all gangly and unfed and not well. Dangerous men.
Nephele watched them, her ear twitching to listen to their conversation as she stood like some sacrilegious statue around 30 feet away.
“I'm telling ya, they've been becoming way more widespread, man.” Harped one, leaned up against the wall and sloshing some puce colored liquid in a bottle. It dripped from his beard. “They're bloody tyrannical at this point! I mean, shit. I get sticking it to the magic flauntin’ pansies meself but--”
“But nothing!” Crowed another, having taken a break from drinking his fill of a similar liquid. “If anything the pompous fucks are doing us a favor! Magic dam near poisons every society that we're in, might as well purge it. Doesn't have to be bloody everywhere.”
“You think that's why they've been taking people?”
Right behind the third man, Nephele’s voice was as cold as the wind in Frost Gale, a chill quite literally ran down his spine. “Taking people?”
All three of them whirled around. All of them were in alarm, wondering just how long the blue skinned woman had been listening. It hadn't been long, but it was long enough. Now that she saw their faces properly, she likened them the birds.
“You three little birdies are going to tell me exactly what you know. Or you will suffer.” Nephele said, paying no mind to them brandishing small blades and even broken bottle shards towards her. There it was, that smell of fear. The looks on their faces contorted into bewilderment, the sounds of their heart beats accelerating as she stared unblinkingly through them all.
Nephele nearly forgot about this.
“Sorry, toots.” Said the first, drawing her gaze. “But we don't give out information without a price. ‘Sides, what's a pretty dame like you got to do with the Dial Fractum?”
Nephele's eyes managed to glimmer in recognition, or perhaps that was the sliver of sunlight glinting in her eye. She recognized the name, as C’Leena had mentioned having a bad run in with them not too long ago. Something about them being a strictly anti-magic regime of sorts. What jokes. What absolute folly. Realizing her lack of an expression, the second man sidled a little closer, looking her in the eyes bravely with a far too foolish grin on his face. “Don't tell me you're thinking of going after em? Come on it's too dangerous, especially for a pretty thang like you. How about you relax and just--”
Nephele's hand was at his throat before he could blink.1 Dropping the bottle, things seem to go in slow motion as the nymph picked it up before it hit the ground, and promptly bashed it across his head. The glass and liquor skimmed across the ground and cut into his face as he was knocked out. The other two were stunned into silence, The third man peering down in his peripheral to see his companion twitching with a broken jaw. Blood spattered her cerulean skin as she pointed the remaining bottle between the two of them, slow and with a tilted head.
“Two birds then.” She reiterated, her voice slow and meticulous, and yet somehow carrying with it a whimsy that never seemed to go away. “Speak now. What do you know? And if you know nothing…I’m sorry, but I can’t have witnesses.”
Nephele suddenly smiled too wide, a horrific expression that looked too happy for the situation at hand, her voice a siren's song.
“I'm already a wanted woman~”
Nephele took about a half hour each man to find the info she needed. Too long, she'll admit. One ruined cloak and a completely reasonable negotiation later, Nephele found herself walking towards an old building on the edge of town. To many it looked like an old boathouse, rundown and mildewed. The poor place was falling apart at the seams, but it was what the men had also graciously told her, albeit through mouths with significantly less teeth. They jingled soothingly in her pocket.
Nephele check does best as she could through the boarded-up windows, hearing something about there being a secret entrance that she could enter if she just knew where to look. Why it was such a confusing place to find she didn't know, nor did she care much. Nephele found herself circling and peeking and kicking at random boards around the house, getting no answer at first.
Then, ever so faintly, Nephele heard a sound. Walking. She moved over to the sound, uncaring if she was seen or not, and found what appeared to be two very disgruntled individuals exiting what looked like a trap door via a ladder. Instead of going to hide, Nephele waited for them, and they paused in initial confusion.
Before either of them could react, the woman was in front of them in the blink of an eye, kicking one of them square in the face. Losing his balance, the guard let out a cry of panic as he fell down the concealed ladder, taking the other with him.
Jumping down, Nephele fell feather light on her feet, her cloak entirely abandoned as she's met with a man-made basement full of chambers…and guards.2 The ones she had knocked down were slowly getting up, the rest of them brandishing various weapons in preparing for a fight. Nephele, her eyes aglow with manic energy, found herself grinning again.
“…Fight me.” She crooned gleefully, her sirenic voice carrying into the echo chambers, as all at once chaos breaks out. Guards of the Dial Fractum start charging her, whilst others ran for backup. Nephele shrieked with laughter, and all at once the game was afoot.
Don’t worry dearest. I’ll get you soon…and for once I’ll have such a story to tell you.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Sept 7, 2023 2:34:39 GMT -5
Nephele has spoken about fey in the past. With C'Leena's curious prodding, she learnt that a lot of fey could be seen as evil, making deals that benefit the fey in almost every conceivable way while making it seem like the other party gets something in return. Strangely enough, C'Leena found that fact amusing. Distressing, sure, but primarily amusing.
C'Leena awoke an unknown amount of time later, still in the same position as before. From her own experience, when one sense is lost, the others improve, and C'Leena once again learns this the hard way as she hears what sounds like chaos from some distance away. Clattering of something on stone, cries and yelps, and a shrill laughter.
Some time ago, Nephele had told C'Leena that she will never see her angry. Even then, she found that hard to believe, but she wishes it were in different circumstance, for she knows what will happen to those opposed to her. She fears the wounds that Nephele will endure just for her, the scars that may riddle her body in her carelessness. It fills her with.. anger, rage and an indescribable feeling akin to a guardian angel. Yet none of these urges can be acted upon, for her own arms don't comply with her demands.
Rapid footfalls circle her, and against everything, C'Leena starts laughing. A wheezing, labored laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. In return, a sharp pain ripples out from her midsection, having been hit with something blunt. She stops laughing, not in compliance, but in concentration. Something is nullifying her magic, and that means her prosthetics, eyes and organs. Frankly, it's a miracle that she's even alive right now, but the fact she is tells her something: It's not a complete muting of magic.
C'Leena focuses on meditation for the time being, trying her best not to panic. She is scared shitless, concerned for Nephele and feeling almost bad for her captors, but she pushes all of that out of her mind for now. Hearing the distinct sound of footsteps, then what sounds like a door opening, and the footsteps getting fainter, she smiles softly, knowing that he's just doomed himself.
She's not entirely sure what made her do this, but her mind goes back to her usage of Dreamwalker with Nephele, specifically while they were listening to music in her car. She seemed particularly entranced by a specific song - Good Riddance. Nephele always seems to have enjoyed C'Leena's singing, and she hopes that the chaos of combat still allows her to be heard.
Farewell To all the earthy remains No burdens No further debts to be paid
Atlas Can rest his weary bones The weight of the world All falls away In time
Goodbye To all the plans that we made No contracts I'm free to do as I may
No burdens No sleep except to dream Mild and warm Safe from all harm Calm
Good riddance to all the thieves To all the fools that stifled me They've come and gone And passed me by
Good Riddance To all
Farewell To all the earthy remains No burdens No further debts to be paid
Atlas Can rest his weary bones The weight of the world All falls away In time
Her voice is weak, she needs to take frequent breaths, but her mind is centered, emotions under control. She doesn't stop singing, and will not stop until Nephele finds her.
C'Leena doesn't know how she can be when angry, and she would be lying if there wasn't a bit of nervousness in finding out. She just hopes that Nephele can hear her.
She idly wonders who will be crying more after this. She can't say for sure, but the thought is amusing to her.
Farewell
To all the earthy remains..
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Post by Nephele on Sept 7, 2023 9:49:51 GMT -5
Nephele could actually count the number of minutes it took her to carve a hole through their defenses. Too long, admittedly. It was almost frustrating at some point, as their number grew more and more and more desperate to take her down.
She was at a certain disadvantage, having an innate weakness to iron and also being the only one fighting for any liberation at all. However her mind was one track, and she tore through their defenses slowly and steadily. She was fighting for 13 minutes.
With only her bare hands to arm her, Nephele was relentless as she charged forward, landing a powerful punch to the sternum of one guard that sent him hurtling back into another. Every attack, if it weren't fatal the first time, she made sure of its definity. This was a death wish in and of itself, but Nephele found that she just didn't care. She found her cruelty justified, and if they were going to have an obvious advantage against her, she might as well play all her cards.
Nephele kept in mind that she was in the midst of a group of people who were adamantly against magic, and if she squinted she would see some of the monk techniques that she very briefly studied from her time here. That didn't mean much to a mad woman who seemed to have lost all feeling in her body after the third deep scar that had run across her torso. The crunch of bone, the gurgling of blood in the throat was enough to keep her going.
After the first 10 minutes, a door opened nearby. She didn't know where it was or how it was, only that there was an opening somewhere and people were leaving from it. Abandoning her blood lust for a moment, Nephele quickly ran past 3 injured guards that were trying to stand up again, sparing them for now. The nymph was covered in blood, almost entirely equal parts blue and red. Her adrenaline was the only thing keeping her conscious right now, and she was thriving off of it. A men with a halberd it appeared tried to get in her path, and Nephele sucked in a harsh breath before spitting out a shard of ice in the form of a thin needle. It careened through the air and slipped through his skull nearly seamlessly, and he collapsed in a heap.
Very narrowly dodging being beheaded, Nephele found herself nearing the turn of the hall. This was getting nowhere, if she were to keep cutting through these men someone was going to run out of blood first. She'd be damned if it was her. So she listened, Nephele listened as hard as she could for something. Anything at all.
And then, something. A sound that would almost yank her out of her delirium if she weren't so far gone.
C’Leena's voice. She was singing.
Nephele admittedly stood still for far too long to listen. Her manic expression melted into shock and hope, and all at once the adrenaline that had been keeping her running was slowly petering out. Though not entirely, just enough that Nephele could feel the several new scars to her body and face. She couldn't tell where they were before, but now her body was on fire. But that didn't matter to her, C’Leena was close. She was so close.
A group of five, all armed with polearms, stood in her path. She rolled her shoulders, feeling a gust of wind over her shoulder that wouldn't make sense if she hadn't known what it symbolized.
Letting out harsh huffs of breath, Nephele found herself laughing again. Everything burned and everything felt like her world was spinning, but that was all right. All she had to do was run, and it would be upright again.
“Now…which one of you scum sucking parasites are going to be the ones who tell me where my wife is?”
She was answered with battle cries and charging forms, and Nephele growled lowly, like a predator assessing unruly prey. Fine. Nephele probably couldn’t use magic here, if they were so adamantly against it. Then again, she always found magic a bit difficult to use.
“C’LEENA!!” Nephele cried, a warcry of her own as she threw the remainder of her energy into the next attacks. She hadn’t even sounded like herself, moreso like a banshee than anything. Down the hall, someone was dressed differently than the rest, their leader presumably. Then he was her target. Nephele laughed, jamming her nails into the throat of one of the guards in front of her, just shy of his artery. Sloppy.
“I’M COMING FOR YOU!! YOU’D BETTER BE ALIVE WHEN I FIND YOU!!” She moreso sang than screamed, laughing as she received another scratch to her cheek, before countering it with an elbow to the nose. She’d get there. Oh, she’d get there.
And they’d better be ready.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Sept 7, 2023 10:32:44 GMT -5
The only thing helping her keep track of time was her own voice, and counting every single verse and cycle of her song. The noises of battle grew louder, and with each passing tick of her heart, she grew both more anxious and more hopeful. What sort of state is Nephele going to be in? Will this end up as a reverse rescue mission? She supposes she'll find out soon.
Then she heard her. Nephele calling for her, voice filled with adrenaline and rage. C'Leena's song stopped for but a moment as a wide smile breaks across her face, and her mind filled with her own determination to look at least a little presentable to her fiancé when she gets here.
Her frivolous study of everything arcane since coming here has taught C'Leena a number of things. Magic is fueled by 'Mana', which she suspects acts akin to a type of radiation. Living beings absorb this mana and have their own pools of mana that they draw from when casting spells. Wizards, Witches and other primary spellcasters have a larger mana pool than your common townsfolk due to training.
The collar around her neck is preventing her mana from flowing correctly, which is inhibiting it's ability to power her prosthetics. The best part about mana and being a spellcaster? Spells are mana given form, meaning that you can control it. Based entirely off a hunch and boundless determination to look over Nephele, she focuses her mind.
Mental imagery has proven to be very helpful in C'Leena's magical attempts, and she believes that the same technique could be used to flow mana already inside her body. Every device has a breaking point. Everything has a stress limit. This collar is either poorly made that allows a little mana to flow despite it's attachment to her (seeing as she's still alive), or the device was calibrated to let her live. She's putting all her chips into the former.
She focuses on flowing her mana as close to the collar as possible, and for a split second her sight returns before fading back into darkness. That means that her bets were successful. With little fanfare, she begins pressing hard with her mana, hoping to push the device to it's breaking point.
All the while, she continues singing, never stopping, never missing a lyric.
Her attempts to force the device to break make little headroom, and Nepheles second cry causes C'Leena to stop singing and laugh loudly. Again, a wheezing, weak laugh that cannot be maintained for long. With a breath, she continues singing, hoping to provide at least a little composure to Nephele.
Unknown to her, C'Leena's efforts are visible with brilliant dancing lights surrounding the collar. Flickers of a golden pair of wings, a large halo behind her head fade in and out of reality, truly showing how much effort she's putting in.
C'Leena, hanging from the ceiling by her hands, chained to the ground by her ankles. Her shirt and jacket in a corner, revealing her burnt skin and countless lacerations and bruises, clear marks on her flesh that look almost akin to incision markers. Blood slowly runs from her body, forming small puddles beneath her form. Her arms lack their aquamarine sigaldry, and her gemstone eyes are grey and dull.
The room isn't much better. The room has benches, shelves and counters lining the edge of the room. A rollable counter lays near C'Leena with countless tools and devices resting atop, their functions unknown. Around C'Leena's neck is a thick collar with intense sigaldry. It appears to be locked via some mechanism, but thankfully the device doesn't look all that sturdy.
The only sounds in the room, minus C'Leena's singing and the sounds of combat are her labored breaths between every few words, and the mortifying lack of the distinct ticking of C'Leena's heart.
Love is trust.
Love is faith.
C'Leena trusts Nephele with her life, and has placed every ounce of faith into her fey fiancé to get them both out relatively safely. Since that is what Nephele would do for her.
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Post by Nephele on Sept 7, 2023 12:49:28 GMT -5
“Well well well, look who we have here.”
Nephele wipes her face with an even bloodier hand, dropping the guard that she had felled with a deft thud. She was panting, her breaths heavy and measured as she did her best to focus. Covered in wounds that would never heal properly, Nephele slowly turned her head to the one who had addressed her. How many bodies were there at this point? 30? Perhaps inching closer to 40 or 50? She had lost count as soon as she heard her fiance’s song. Cold air expelled through her lips as she watched this person approach.
He looked strong, but strong enemies fell hardest.
“What have you done to her?” Nephele demanded coldly, her voice hoarse from laughing and screaming. It cracked at the end, but even still she stood up straight. A long, deep scar marred her face from her jaw to her left brow, dripping blue blood causing it to shut so she wouldn't go blind. Thankfully, none of her wounds were fatal, but they hurt like a bitch.
“You said that magical amalgam was your wife?” The man rumbled, and even through the pain Nephele could liken him to a bear or a bison. His eyes glinted with disdain. “Though I suppose it makes sense. She's been rendered useless, she could be long dead by now. Abominations find company with each other.”
Nephele tittered, her head lolling to the side as she shook. “She may have spared you, but I know of no such thing as mercy. If you wish to die horribly then shut your mouth and fucking fight me.”
The man frowned, something like indignation in his eye as he regarded the nymph. “Foolish little fairy. You’ll pay for crossing us.” He withdrew from his back a sword, and the next round had begun.
Twenty minutes.
They fought for twenty minutes straight, no end in sight initially. Nephele was fully prepared to fight this man…mentally. Her body was being pushed to its limits, trying her best to stay on the defensive. Parrying his blade was no easy task, but Nephele had long lost the feeling of pain in her hands. Even with one eye Nephele was fairing pretty decently, focusing and striking where she saw opportunity.
Through the anger and pain, Nephele found herself refocusing. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she practiced evasive action, studying the wielder with the voided eyes of a disgraced monk. In a way that's what she was, and it showed in how her attacks when fighting this man had become more calculated and precise. Her fury was still there, but now it was simply boiling below the surface. As if she wanted this man in particular to pay for his crime.
Realizing she'd have to get quicker if she wanted to get to C’Leena, Nephele took a step forward after narrowly dodging a swipe with the blade, and caught it between her hands. Her flesh sizzled and her body screamed for her to let go, but with a glint of a star in her right eye her hands clouded over, freezing the blade and breaking it.1 It fell to the ground in many chunks and pieces between them. The man that stood before her was stunned into silence, but only for a brief moment. He let out an angry snarl, dropping the hilt of the weapon and going to charge her directly.
Wrong move.
Nephele ran up to him as well, but instead of punching him in the face like he was planning, his arm reared back in preparation for a very sloppy movement, the nymph dropped down and landed a scorpion kick to his chest, sending him flying into the wall. Running up to him, Nephele snapped her fingers and a swirl of ice and magic formed in her palm, forming a spear made of ice and spearing him in the abdomen.2 He let out a shriek of pain and agony, and Nephele grabbed him by the hair, only one star in her eye that stared through him. Her other hand, contrastingly cups his jaw, the nails like talons as they trace the line of it.
“You. Are going to stay right here.” Nephele stated rather than commanded, tugging harder still and ripping out some of his strands of hair. “The state in which I find her greatly determines if you meet your maker.” She stared into his eyes, and grinned widely. “By the look in your eyes, I think it's time for you to start reciting prayers.”
With that she disengaged, leaving him pinned up to the wall and groaning in pain. Approaching the door, which wasn't too far away surprisingly, Nephele sucked her teeth. What was with these places and iron? Did they have no other alloy?
Huffing out in irritation and slight delirium, the nymph clapped her hands together, the same clouds from before that had shattered the sword coating her hands.3 At least this spell provided some protection, it actually surprised her that they didn't have a magical ward set up around the place. It must be a temporary base, she figured idly.
Slamming her hands on the door, much like the weapon it grew frozen over and cold, shattering into many pieces with cacophonous sounds of rubble and clanging metal. It was then that Nephele was oh-so kindly graced with the sight of her fiancé. Bleeding, bruised, battered and broken. Her clothes discarded. Oh. Nephele had to stand there for several moments to process. When she finally did move all aggression had bled out of her, instead replaced with horrific sorrow. The stars in her eyes, as if once in hiding, all bloomed to life when they rested upon C’Leena’s form, and Nephele was distraught.
“C’Leena…oh my gods…what did they do to you?!” Her voice broke as she stumbled over, eyes threatening to spill over tears. She untied her blindfold and cupped her fiance’s cheeks, her hands wet with blood, both her own and otherwise. Her eyes were dull, but she was breathing...right? Right?! "W-Why can't I hear it...?" She breathed heavily, listening for the whir of her clockwork heart and finding nothing. Right, anti-magic. They must use technology. As Nephele searched for what she needed to break her free, she finally saw the collar on her neck. Some form of primal possession was still red hot in her veins, and she touched it slowly. Her voice is low, exhausted, yet somehow it rumbled with it a power.
“They collared you.”
1 Cold Touch 2 Ice Spike 3 Shatter
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Sept 7, 2023 16:27:27 GMT -5
Twenty minutes.
She had to hear her fight for twenty minutes, but that was okay, because her mind was slightly caught up on another detail. Nephele referred to her as her wife.
Despite the context, it warmed her heart to new degrees.
The twenty minutes both drew on and flew by, her blindness getting irritating, her uselessness degrading. Only half a minute passed after the sounds of battle ceased before she heard the door shatter like glass. Wasn't that door made of iron? Wait - No she fucking didn't.
"Nephele, did you really just break that iron door? Petal, the moment I'm able to see you, I'm going to give you the look-over of your fucking life." She says weakly. Despite her savior being here, it's also clear she's scared shitless. Anybody would be when they've been kidnapped and their fianc- Wife had to fight through hordes of enemies to get to you.
Nepheles hands are a welcome chill, and C'Leena being the doctor she is, seems to always prioritize Nephele over herself. "Shh, shh it's okay, petal. I'm okay. Look, it's an anti-magic collar, but a kind of shit one at that, hence my 'still being alive'. Just, give me a moment, I think I've nearly rendered it a paperweight.. Hopefully. Breathing with one lung isn't particularly fun."
It took three more minutes of constant pressure for the collar to begin sparking with arcane energy. The effort is taxing, a weariness she only knew from mana-exhaustion. The collar may not be off, but her eyes regain their glow, the soft ticking of her heart is audible and, judging by the breath of air she sucked in, her lung is operational.
She can see, which means she can see the wounds Nephele has. Despite her lung, her breath hitches upon seeing the sheer amount of blood on her. The wounds pouring cerulean. The ripped clothing revealing many, many more scars. After a moment, she regains her composure, and makes a mildly horrifying realization.
She's kind of all for it?
C'Leena being the blunt woman she is, obviously says her mind.
"Oh my god. Ms. Thomas just killed dozens of people and I think she's beyond hot right now. I think you'll rock facial scars, hon, if that's any consolation."
Getting C'Leena down from her holding place was a bit of a nightmare. With C'Leena insisting upon her wearing some form of protection from the iron chains, what could have been a two minute job turned into ten minutes, but the second that C'Leena was down, Nephele was in her arms as her wounds stitched closed of their own accord1.
C'Leena holds Nephele close and tight, gently running her fingers along Nepheles scalp as they're rocked back and forth, C'Leena whispering quiet assurances all the while. If it's the last thing she does, C'Leena is going to mother the hell out of Nephele after this.
As she's holding Nephele, she hears a particular tapping sound coming from a pocket. Not recognizing the noise, her curiosity gets the better of her as she quickly reaches in and pulls whatever it is out.
It's a bloody tooth.
It begins to hit her then. The lengths Nephele went to tonight to find her. What she's done has gone above and beyond what C'Leena did at Mt. Drakolt. It seems she interrogated people for her, or these are the teeth of the people in the hall, but that seems unlikely.
And yet, she doesn't find herself caring. Her time in Charon as been both a positive and a negative. Positive because she's become so much better in many ways, she's found a woman who she loves with her entire being and more. But negative because, in just as many ways, she's become worse. Death of another is no longer something she grieves about. Killing someone is no longer an abhorrent idea, and an upsetting fact she has to deal with. Treating iron wounds of Nephele due to combat endured just for her.
She discards the tooth, too tired, scared and unstable to care. She plants a soft kiss to Nepheles forehead before resting her own head against hers, bloodying it in the process. "You've done so, so well tonight, Neph. I want a chat with old mate out there if he's still alive - I'm assuming he's not dead unless you were talking to a corpse." She chuckles before disengaging from the hold, but not letting go of Nepheles hand as she marches out of the room, collar still on.
Walking out, she sees the length of Nepheles destruction. Corpses litter the hallway, only a few left wounded. Blood covering a concerning amount of the surfaces. C'Leena stands in shock for a moment before shaking her head and approaching the poor sap pinned to the wall by a large spear.
"As I told you, mate: 'You will be hunted down like pests until the very last'. Yet you didn't believe me, did you?" C'Leena says slowly, glaring daggers into the man who has eyes wide like saucers in abject confusion and fear.
Instead of saying more, C'Leena rifles though his pockets and finds a key. The key fits into the collar, and with a satisfying click, opens and clatters to the floor. She takes a deep breath, as her emotions are quickly morphing into rage. Her arm lashes out like a snake striking it's prey, her metallic hand gripping the mans jaw in a vice. With a swift motion, her freehand reaches out and a dagger flies into her hand from across the room2, which is promptly slashed across the mans throat as he's left to drown in his own blood.
"Should've killed me when you had the chance, fucko." She pats the mans cheek almost affectionately before continuing on down the hall, taking Nepheles hand once again, and with a mind to simply leave and never return.
"Come on, sweetheart. Lets get you cleaned up, yeah?"
1. Major Healing 2. Telekinesis
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Post by Nephele on Sept 7, 2023 22:56:01 GMT -5
Nephele, despite any and all reassurances, was a fretting mess.
It was an almost comical shift in how her entire attitude had softened, almost instantaneously wrapping C’Leena in her arms. Her eyes are full of tears and she shivers aggressively in her hold. Her adrenaline had finally dampened, and it was something fierce. She had a migraine, the cuts on her body were no longer bleeding but they held a phantom sting, her body ached with overexertion and exhaustion, and she was almost certain if she were to sit down her four of her ribs would crack, healing or not.
Nephele felt solace in the gentle sway of their bodies, but she found herself struggling to hold back tears. It took tremendous effort, the poor dear.
Nephele missed nearly every quip C’Leena threw at her, as the same stressful mantra scraped through her mind like a rake on cobblestone: I almost lost her, I almost lost her, I almost lost her. Her grip on C’Leena was as though she was trying to imprint her form to her body. She saw C’Leena pluck a tooth from her pocket, and her grip on her only tightened. That was something she could be a bit more ashamed of. It was honestly a bad habit, collecting “trinkets” from those who wronged her. It happened often in her youth, but she usually just stole toys or tools and the like. Never teeth. That was her mother’s thing.
The thought made her shiver, and when they withdrew from one another Nephele had put on a brave face. She wanted to cry so bad, but she’d refrain. This didn’t need to be a reverse rescue mission for Nephele’s feelings, not again.
When they left and C’Leena took in the sight of what she’d done, Nephele still couldn’t feel pride. It was suddenly all too overwhelming, seeing the end of what was essentially a very long and destructive manic episode that had devolved into destruction. She should have known she’d do something so irrational, but that was love, wasn’t it? It made you do crazy things, including killing a few dozen people (three of which didn’t really deserve it). And to think, C’Leena didn’t even know about the three men in the alleyway.
Nephele watched the leader’s blood pool from his throat as C’Leena slit it open. He gargled on his blood and choked, but Nephele didn’t get to see him reach his demise as she was aptly distracted by a cold hand in her tender, burned one. The scarring in her palms were still evident and still felt tender even after C’Leena healed her, as were the rest of them that littered her torso and face. She could only hope that her fiance’s compliments on her scars weren’t out of pity.
Nephele followed C’Leena with shaky steps, though she powered through her fatigue as best she could until they were out of there. It was exhausting to climb out of there, but the promise of clean, preferably unmarred clothing and clean skin drove her to move.
“…I’m sorry.” Nephele blurted, almost as soon as they left the basement. She was apologizing again, she knew this, but to not felt cruel. “I-I didn’t mean to take too long.” She’d keep going, but knowing C’Leena would already be gearing up to scold her for even thinking to utter the words “I’m sorry” in the first place. Plus, she was trying really, really hard not to downright break into hysterical sobs right now. It showed too, her pitiful expression threatening to slip as she sniffled.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Sept 7, 2023 23:33:40 GMT -5
Seeing the chaos that Nephele carved was both flattering and mildly terrifying, but not for the reasons one would expect. She's primarily afraid of how Nepheles mental state will react in the hours, days and perhaps weeks to come. Seeing Nephele as she is now, fighting back the urge to simply break down in her arms shattered C'Leena in every way possible, which was further exacerbated by her apologies. And for once, she doesn't want to scold her over it.
"You did everything you could, sweetheart," She stops in her tracks outside. The sounds of the nearby ocean, gentle winds with a slight chill in the air. C'Leena turns and cups one of Nepheles cheeks in a hand, looking her in the eye, wiping away errant tears with a thumb. "This is what we're going to do. We're going back to the room - through the window, there might be too many questions with you covered in this much blood. I'm going to go rent us a bath, we'll get you cleaned up, and we're going to spend as long as it takes ensuring that you're okay. This is non-negotiable."
She pauses for a moment, already knowing what Nephele will want to counter with. "I'm fine for now. You just killed a bunch of people and have too many new scars to prove it." Almost to cement her point, she idly traces the large scar across Nepheles face, feeling swells of pride, sorrow and too much attraction to be at all sane. Seriously, as a doctor she really shouldn't be saying this, but she rocks facial scars.
"We're taking a few hours to focus on you. After that, you can fuss to your hearts content, okay?" She allows, figuring that it'll happen either way, seeing as she got kidnapped, and judging by the all-too-familiar marks on her stomach, was about to be the subject of unwilful surgery. That thought sends shivers down her spine, but she can deal for now.
C'Leena also takes the teeth out of Nepheles pocket and discards them. "We also don't need these. Why you're collecting teeth, I have no idea."
Returning to the walk back, it's mostly uninteresting. The noises of the night are soothing, the stars always inspiring awe in C'Leena, if at a lesser degree tonight. Reaching the Inn and climbing through the window, C'Leena sets out a change of clothes for Nephele before putting something on herself and leaving the room for a few minutes, returning shortly after to bring her to the bath.
C'Leena remains outside of the bath, washing out Nepheles hair religiously before moving on to the rest of her. Truly seeing the extent of her injuries tonight breaks her heart. Nephele has done so much - given so much just for C'Leena. She willingly marred her skin to ensure C'Leena's safety, and C'Leena couldn't even help her in the fight. Never has she felt more useless, more an inconvenience. Is she wrong? Yes, absolutely, but it doesn't stop her from believing it whole heartedly.
Cleaning the blood off Nephele took quite some time and a number of refills of the tub before she was clean, and C'Leena was more than happy to do it. Nephele would most definitely recognize the glint in C'Leena's eye, almost screaming internal warfare despite her prideful smile.
"There we are. Good as new, yeah?" Her smile is wide, and not entirely fake. She leans down and gives Nephele a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Get yourself dressed, we'll get you a cuppa. I believe you have one hell of a story to tell me, tonight, don't you?"
C'Leena steps away, picking up a small cloth and dries off her hands, sucking in a breath through her teeth as she attempts to dry her frontside, accidentally running across one of her numerous wounds.
That can wait, however. Her fiancé isn't okay, and she's going to remedy that if it's the last thing she does.
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Post by Nephele on Sept 8, 2023 13:55:48 GMT -5
Nephele found no point in complaining or denying C’Leena’s offer, even though she desperately wanted to work on checking up on her instead. She struggled to articulate a protest, instead opting to let it go and sigh quietly. She nodded in agreement, relieved that they would be able to relax after this. Her guard stayed up, but she felt a percentage better when they made it back safely.
While C’Leena washed her hair, Nephele was quiet still, though her mind was ablaze with chaotic thoughts. She was so physically drained it was alarming; she’d fought through sicknesses without medicine and food that felt droll in comparison. Above all else she was sore, like she had been attempting to wade through a polluted bog for days straight with weights tied to her ankles. C’Leena helped her clean, and her eyes trailed over the numerous scars on her arms and the large, slightly darkened burn scars on her palms. Thankfully she hadn’t lost feeling in them, but they were rougher now, the texture slightly warped. This didn’t quite sadden her, but it wasn’t pleasant either.
Nephele could remember only one time where she went on a rampage like that. It was nearly a decade ago, but it still happened. She remembered the child who drove the iron spokes of his rake into her abdomen, and his screams of agony thereafter. She remembered the rest of the family falling at her and her mother’s hands, all for some ill-gotten gains.
Nephele knew what she was. She knew her nature, naturally apathetic to the point of borderline sociopathy, and yet somehow hyperaware to the emotions of others. Master manipulators. She felt every scream, every cut, every lethargic gargle of blood run through her.
The most conflicting bit, however, was that Nephele could see herself doing it again for C’Leena. Because she loved her so much that she’d destroy the world for her. That was love, wasn't it? The sound of said woman speaking to her made Nephele look up, blinking in response as she tried to gather what was said. Oh, right. She only fully processed her words when C’Leena kissed her forehead and maneuvered away to give her some space. Barely even a few feet, and yet...
Too far, said something in her mind. “Okay.” She said instead. She couldn’t make herself smile, but the nymph felt better now that she knew C'Leena was safe with her again. Gods, but those injuries on C’Leena…Nephele had to physically shake her head to prevent herself from getting angry again.
She stood, and found some of the loosest clothing she could (which was maybe one top out of the many she packed with her and a pair of pants) to wear. As soon as she had a shirt on and was relatively dry, Nephele immediately gravitated toward C’Leena.
She said nothing, just wrapping her arms around her. She held her tight, though it was no longer a desperate vice grip. Instead Nephele held onto C’Leena like she had no idea if she was allowed, as if C’Leena would shove her away at any moment.
“Don’t go.” Nephele whispered, voice small. Despite this, her mental clarity was slowly coming to her, and she hid her face in C’Leena’s chest. She was shivering a bit, equal parts chilly and nervous. “I almost lost you. I need to make sure you’re really here…just for a moment.”
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Sept 8, 2023 14:56:40 GMT -5
C'Leena has only really seen this sort of mental state in patients that has all but given up, and that fact scares her. The forced, almost robotic movements that look like they take so much force just to do. It makes her certain in her decision to put her first.
The feeling of her cold arms wrapping around her and the familiar weight of her head on C'Leena's chest snap her out of her reverie, where Nepheles words cut deep. C'Leena scoffs playfully. "Worried on losing me? Dal'n, bold of you to assume that they could kill me off. Part of being aussie is surviving shit you have no right to survive." She jokes, but even that somehow feels half assed. After a moment of simply enjoying the hold and wrapping Nephele up in her own embrace, C'Leena scoops Nephele up into a bridal carry, not compromising the hold Nephele has on her.
"Come on, can't stay in here forever. Lets head back, yeah?" She says in a smooth voice. As they walk into the hall, she uses Telekinesis to bring along clothes and brushes back with them, and summons a replicant to go get some tea. Reaching the room was as it usually was, and with the clothes magically put into a small 'do this tomorrow' pile, C'Leena telekinetically dragged the blankets off the bed enough to crawl under, and laid down with Nephele still in her arms.
C'Leena knows that Nephele isn't all that big a fan of blankets, but C'Leena thinks she needs to share her warmth a bit more effectively for now. Against everything C'Leena wants, she breaks the embrace and cups Nepheles cheeks in both hands as their heads rest on pillows. There is absolutely no hope of sleeping anytime soon, but being horizontal seemed to always help her.
"Sweetheart - I love you. More than the sun that shines and the moon in the night sky, more than the damn stars themselves and everything in between," She says, staring into the starry skies of her fiancé's eyes. They're dull and missing many of the stars - as if hidden by cloud. Her eyes have always been more reflective of her soul than others, and C'Leena can almost always accurately guess how Nephele was feeling just from her eyes. This concerned her. "..And there isn't a single thing that will change that. We do need to discuss what happened, but that can wait until far later, when we're both of a sound mind, yeah?"
"I've always said 'Forever and Always', haven't I?" She asks, prodding for a nod from Nephele. "That wouldn't be true if suddenly this broke everything, right? I'm a woman of my word, you know this, and when I say Forever and Always, I mean it."
"I did totally hear you refer to me as your wife, by the way. You've no idea how quickly that warmed my heart. Second I heard that, I knew for a fact I'd be okay - that I'd be safe in your arms again within the hour." She smiles genuinely for the first time in the night, recalling the moment with jarring clarity. "Nephele Thomas, you're going to tell me what is going on up here," She taps Nepheles forehead gently before returning her hand to Nepheles cheek. "And I will be here to listen. You've done this for me plenty, so now let me do this for you." A quick glance is all that warns yet another kiss to the lips, lasting perhaps a little longer than it should. She pulls away and places her forehead against Nepheles, looking her in the eye. "..Please?"
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Post by Nephele on Sept 8, 2023 16:22:04 GMT -5
Nephele makes no attempts to protest as she’s picked up, instead choosing to cling even tighter to her fiancé as they leave for their room. Her mind was a swampy flurry of emotions, but her eyes somehow softened when she saw the replicant go down to get some tea. She wondered if C’Leena was this good at taking care of someone without magic. How many were saved because of her words, her care? Nephele made a soft sound in the back of her throat as she softened even further somehow.
Once they were laid down C’Leena continued to speak. She had such a lovely voice, Nephele mused to herself, listening quietly. She nodded, remembering C’Leena’s promises for the world and beyond well. It was simultaneously strange and beautiful, how easily they could say these things. Down to every pet name and ‘I love you’, it still warmed the nymph’s heart like the first time. The nymph blinked slowly, not out of exhaustion but rather in an affectionate gesture.
A ghost of a smile found her lips when C’Leena fixed her with the first genuine one of the night, a minute twitch of her lips. The comment about Nephele calling C’Leena her wife made the expression grow, until she giggled bashfully, a bit too embarrassed to meet her eye despite her lack of regret for the situation. A bit of her old self came through when she heard the phrase “Nephele Thomas”, her heartbeat stuttering in her chest for a moment as her cheeks flushed a bit. Even a long kiss to the lips after the short amount of time apart had her blushing like a schoolgirl. How could she refuse that?
“…I love you too.” Nephele whispered as soon as she got her bearings. She let out a slow, steadying breath, hand over the one on her cheek. She kissed the palm, forehead to hers as she focused on responding. “Do you know how you told me that you don’t feel like you’re human enough sometimes?”
It’s a strange question to start with, but Nephele continued before she could think of backpedaling. “I often feel the exact opposite. There’s a phrase, I believe. I feel like um, what is the term…” Nephele couldn’t figure it out for the life of her, and voicing it was difficult. “Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t think I realized just how much of my mother I have in me. She used to do things like that without remorse, and I tried to pass it off as natural. Killing is not something I take pride nor joy in, but I can do it as easily as anything. I suddenly forget about my love toward humanity that I learned over the years and rip people asunder, just like the rest of my people do.”
Nephele sighed, looking at C’Leena with a distressed yet serious expression. “Especially, when it comes to my treasure. It’s a primal instinct that in all honesty is borderline unhealthy, but nymphs are especially possessive of people. My mother was obsessed with my father to the point where she only kept me because I had his eyes. I treasure you, and I’ve never treasured anything like this before.”
She takes a breath. “Which is why I’m so conflicted. I try and find remorse for the people I killed for your sake, but I can’t find it in me to lie. I don’t care that I killed so many, because you are my priority. I shouldn’t be so conflicted because morals are above any and everything…but I’m not a human.” She mumbled, wondering if she made any sense at all. She sighed, reserved as she waited for a response.
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Post by C'Leena Thomas on Sept 8, 2023 17:39:02 GMT -5
The first twitch of her lips was all she needed. A twitch turned into a giggle C'Leena craved hearing tonight, and the deep blue hue of the blush made everything seem okay for a moment. Every act of affection from Nephele confirming that she's doing the right thing. Once Nephele starts talking, C'Leena listens, her whole mind focused on her - which for obvious reasons happens very rarely.
Starting off strong with bringing up C'Leena's ongoing issues of identifying as human. She immediately became curious as Nephele explained to the best of her ability. As the words continue falling from her mouth, C'Leena listened as she said she would. It's a complicated bit of work, but one she has faith that the two of them can unravel and work into something productive.
Learning more about the fey in this way isn't exactly how she wanted to learn, but learn she will. Possessiveness like this isn't foreign, and on more than a few occasions have there been incidents of people being driven to murder over their loves. Something like that is almost always taught, and these things can be worked at to make them less of an issue. Perhaps that can be an ongoing goal of theirs? Although that possessiveness did save her life tonight. Decisions, decisions.
Following the sigh marking the end of her speech, C'Leena was quiet with thought for a few moments, brow furrowed as she crafted the right words to say. She'd done this before many times, but it was something different with your fiancé talking about having no remorse ripping through what added up to damn near thirty people.
Finally, she does speak. "Remorse, and empathy are both the same and different. Empathy controls remorse, and it is your own set of ideals that dictate what makes you feel this and that. I don't think feeling remorseful for those you killed tonight is warranted.
"Back on earth, surgeons can be seen as sociopaths because they have to be emotionally detached from their patient. Cutting into them removing organs, holding said organs can all test a surgeons empathy. You know better than most that I did surgery. I helped remove those organs and I helped add new ones, and I had to detach myself if I wanted to do my job.
"The key difference between a surgeon and a sociopath is the ability to turn the empathy on and off, whereas a sociopath doesn't have empathy. I see tonight as a.. big ol' surgery. Cutting through what blocks you, extracting what you need and getting the job done."
She pauses, thinking for a moment before continuing.
"Mt. Drakolt. The cultists I killed? Absolutely nothing for them. Not a hint of remorse, and I'd do it again if it meant you were safe with me again. In the perspective of who I am now, does that change me? What if I were fey like you? Would that mean something different then?"
C'Leena takes Nepheles hand in both of her own, delicately holding each side of her palm like it was fragile and about to shatter. "I don't think you did the wrong thing tonight. Even if you did, I'd always stand with you, even if it's against the entire world."
C'Leena isn't sure if what she said would help in the slightest, but she hopes it helps even a little. She is reminded that there is one more thing she wants to cement, however.
"I don't want you bottling shit up, you hear me? Don't you think for a second that I won't listen to you when you need to talk. I bottled shit up for years and a single damn phone call saved my life, Nephele. I'm not running that risk with you. You talk to me, I talk to you, hell talk to other people about it if you don't want to tell me. As long as you're not wrapping things up and hiding them away, I'm happy."
Her voice holds a loving authority that is steadfast and firm in what it's asking. C'Leena doesn't know for sure if Nephele is somebody at risk, but she doesn't want to take chances, and this is the first step in avoiding it.
She's not losing anybody else. Not anymore.
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Post by Nephele on Sept 11, 2023 22:07:04 GMT -5
Nephele was always a pretty good listener, or perhaps that was strictly for C’Leena. She hung onto every word and hummed and nodded when appropriate, watching her with nervous but attentive eyes. Nephele had always found C’Leena’s previous job fascinating, as someone who’d never met a doctor since her. She knew what they were of course, but surgery was a concept she’d been lost to previously. Words had begun to grow more important to Nephele, as it seemed like one another’s encouragement had kept the other going. It was such a contrast from her life mere months ago.
Hearing C’Leena’s view on tonight’s situation as a big surgery was enlightening, but also mildly concerning. Then again, the nymph couldn’t really find room to be concerned about another person’s morals after what happened less than an hour ago. Also, what C’Leena said did make a bit of sense, and it somewhat aligned with her own morals; she found that something needed to be done in order for her to secure what and who was hers -- and if it required the elimination of irrelevant pieces – she’d push herself to her limits and beyond without thinking.
Nephele muttered out a tiny, nearly unintelligible “no” at C’Leena’s mostly rhetorical question, still trying her best to maintain some form of eye contact. She finds herself looking into her fiance’s eyes as she cradled her hand so gently, briefly reminding herself of what she would have lost if she hadn’t done what she did.
C’Leena’s last statement surprised her though. It was still soothing, but very stern, like she was speaking it into her being. Nephele has to take a moment to process what C’Leena says, before she responds as quickly as she can. “O-Oh I…I tell you almost everything I have on my mind. Everything else is um, well, nothing important. I think that you’d know at this point if I were feeling hopeless like that.”
Nephele was more likely than not right about this; she was profoundly expressive to a point where it probably didn’t take more than three weeks with C’Leena to clock most of her thoughts. However, Nephele could understand the fear there. Imagining C’Leena in an even lower place than she was the night that she’d shown her meditation for the first time…she couldn’t fathom that.
Nephele inhaled shakily, pressing a kiss to the ring on C’Leena’s finger. “Dearest, I swear to you, you will never, ever have to witness that with me. If I can help it, you’ll never witness it again. Okay? I promise you.”
Then Nephele recalled something, and she shifted her body to reach into her pocket. She gently fished out the pendant, little bit of blood on the chain but not too much to cause too much of an issue. It’d have to be mended, but that’s okay. She smiled softly, a crack or so more in it, but that was alright. It was intact, at least.
“I swear it, mkay?” She reiterated again, as if she couldn’t say it enough, her smile growing a bit wider, more genuine. "And you aren't going anywhere either, you're stuck with me."
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