cape_kore | Day 113 [Video]

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Day 113 [Video]

[The video comes on, showing Dilandau crouched on the ground, pressing his back into a corner. Though he's trying to focus on his screen, his eyes are darting everywhere, checking for threats and spies. He looks drawn and terrified.

He licks his lips, opens his mouth to ask a question, then closes it. He swallows and tries again]

What did you do to our house, woman?

[That attempt at sounding like his usual self fell flat, since he doesn't dare speak above a croaky whisper. The Sorcerers who hold them have made it clear that he's at their mercy. He doesn't dare try to attract their attention again.]

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[Brigid forces herself up, though it makes her go pale to move. She swallows hard against the pain.]

Dilandau? Dilandau, are you alright? Where are you?

[His eyes stop darting about in favour of staring fixedly at the familiar face. He ignores her questions as he takes in the state she's in]

Finally piss someone off that bad?

[The twitch at the corner of his mouth is meant to be an amused sneer, but it's not coming out right. ]

[She shakes her head.]

No... the leader of my clan... I wanted to leave, he tried to beat me to death. I managed to get away.

[There's a pause as he considers this before answering]

That's not much of a strong leader if he couldn't kill you.

[That might explain her attitude when confronted by hostility: not enough heavy beatings. He begins to wonder what the scientists had wanted her to learn by living thorough that, but his mind flinches away before he could finish processing that thought]

How long was I gone?

Strong enough.

[It's soft. Things don't work the same in her world and she knows it.]

I... I'm not sure. I just returned four days ago.

When did you disappear after last seeing me?

[His brows crease, he pauses. He's lost time, he knows, in a familiar, shattered nightmare that'll never quite assemble again. He could have lost days, weeks. Last time, he lost years. He licks his lips and hopes she'll give the answer he expects]

What were being a bitch about then?

The last time I saw you was right after the lights went out. You kicked at me.

[She's not sure when she disappeared.]

[Good, good. That's one little thing, he hasn't forgotten chunks of his life again... unless she's been made to forget hers too. But he could blame it on the Sorcerers here if they both have]

If I was kicking at you, I wouldn't have missed.

[Where's her sparring partner? That was weak, even for him.]

Not my fault you were sloppy.

[His brows twitch as a flash of irritation momentarily eclipses his fear]

I'm not sloppy. Monster.

[There's the Dilandau she knows.]

Still not a monster. And you missed. That's sloppy.

I was aiming for the sticks. I got the sticks. Idiot

It looked like you were aiming for me. Pig.

Your face says you're not good at judging where blows are going to land, punchbag.

[She stiffens.]

I took every punch and I didn't cry that I missed. And then I walked away.

[Crawled, whatever.]

[That earns a thin snort]

You mean he bored of punching you.

No. I stood up to him and he didn't break me.

[Well, he sorta did.]

And I walked away. Most others would be dead.

[His jaw tightens and his face pales further with something that might be anger or fear. She didn't break. Did she say that because she can see that he did?]

We'd be better off if you joined them.

[And now she's just confused.]

Joined who?

[She's definitely mocking him. He bites his lip to stop himself from yelling, because he can still feel that dread that said he was being monitored very carefully. A trickle of blood ran out from under his teeth]

Joined the ones who ended up dead.

[She watches him, her eyes confused and full of compassion.]

I challenged him, Dilandau. I called him to task in front of the entire clan, and wanted to force him to tell me why...

[She stops, because Derek's right. Dwelling on it doesn't help.]

I walked away, but he still won.

I don't care about your reasoning, loser.

[He'd go further and told her how it's all her fault for challenging, but he's just received a similar punishment himself, so it feels. It's all too close.

He licks his lip and is surprised by the taste of his own blood. He wipes it up with this fingers and stares afterwards at the crimson stains]

[She glares at him, eyes sparking blue briefly.]

Sometimes the best revenge is living and not caring about those other people, Pig.

[He thinks about that for a second. The growing annoyance fades back under the weight of his current mood]

If you don't get rid of what can crush you, that's just another form of running away.

[Hmm. He could poke fun - he really could - but there's not a whole lot to make fun of. Besides cruelly, and while god knows he's good at cruelty, it doesn't have quite the same appeal when he hasn't picked out the deserving victim himself. And it's something of a shock, really, seeing Dilandau like this.]

If you were trying to make this private, you didn't.

[Dilandau's gaze fixes on Gabriel in relief at something familiar to stare at. After meeting the scientists, a mere god is hardly something to be frightened by]

What's the point? Nothing's really private around here.

[Though he's tried to do what he can by hunching directly under the camera watching his room, in the hope he's out of sight]

True, but it doesn't seem to stop people trying.

[And oh dear oh dear, Dilandau does seem kinda traumatised. He's torn - on the one hand he's glad someone took the kid down a peg or two; on the other, it's very disconcerting.]

Does that mean you're gonna become an exhibitionist? Cause while it's not exactly something I wanna see, I do kinda like the idea.

[That doesn't decrease the trauma, but it does add a new flavour of disgust to the expression on his face.]

I'm not going to be anyone's little whore.

[He makes a face as if Dilandau had suggested devouring babies' souls or taking a bath in baked beans.]

I wasn't gonna suggest it. Besides, I don't think anyone here's got low enough standards.

I didn't do a thing, other than fix it. There was an earthquake.

[Most of her irritated tone is on autopilot. But like she's going to tell him that he was missed. Never. (Only, he was.) Fortescue's frown is somewhat at odds with her tone, however, as she blinks at her feed.]

Where are you?

[His eyes dart to the ceiling as a sudden paranoia about it collapsing on him strikes]

That's why it's better living in the air, no earth to quake.

[He doesn't keep his eyes off the screen for long, for she's a familiar anchor, even if he won't admit it either.]

My bedroom. Have you touched my stuff? It's better for you if you tell me before I find out.

[It's not a very convincing attempt at a threat]

Edited 2013-09-20 22:23 (UTC)

[Fortescue just rolls her eyes, getting up off the couch to go find him in his room. Might as well have this tense little chat in person, and she can survey how bad the damage is. When she opens the door, she has his answer.]

Didn't touch a thing. In fact, I kept the door closed. So unless you managed to cheese off an angel, you're probably fine.

[Although she hasn't been here all the time - but why mention that.]

[He's too shaken for aggression at the moment, so when the door handle starts turning he startles and presses himself further against the wall like a cornered rabbit. When he sees it's her his shoulders droop in relief, but he doesn't leave where he's sitting.

At her remark, he laughs, high pitched and nervy]

Angel? Three or four of them, depending on what I set alight next.

[Glancing around at the room, he seems to have gotten off lightly in that regard. Depending on which angels he angered.]

Talented, are we?

[It's a gentle tease. She can't really fire off anything more — not when it looks like he wants to disappear into the wall. Fortescue frowns, holding back a sigh.]

Come on. I'll make you some tea. The floor can't be that comfortable.

[He hesitates for a long, agonising moment before launching himself off of the floor and staggering towards her, ducking his head between his shoulders as if the camera watching them might strike. He grabs her shoulders and holds on for a few breaths, until he's sure she's solid under his hands and not a figment of his imagination.

Once he's sure, he drops his hands away from her]

How long have I been gone?

[Fortescue almost takes a step back, when he reaches for her. But she stays in place, frowning deeply, watching him.]

About... four, five days. [In some ways, she really doesn't bother to keep track of time. Other than a loose frame of reference, because of disappearances and marking them down.] Did it feel longer?

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Day 113 [Video]

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