Come lady lay with me, bow your head and say a prayer for me, bow your head and pray it gracefully

[quiethumerus]

Who| Kurloz Makara and Meulin Leijon.
What| Meulin is about to meet Kurloz's old friend and become Pro-Capitol.
Where| A special facility within the Capitol.
When| Wibbly wobbly time this month.
Warnings/Notes| Brainwashing, cursing, derogatory language regarding women, questionable relationships. Just awful.

He hasn't prayed in weeks. There are times he's faltered, times he's slipped, but all in all he's done well. For the greater good, he has cast out gods who cannot greater than his faith in Panem, The Capitol, and the President. Soon he will be fixed completely. Soon, he shall be purified. And there will be no more protest or sense of ill within his heart.

The text itself had gone about as he'd expected.

YOU.
BOY.
CAN YOU NOT SEE.
I AM.
BUSY.

DOMECIA ALTICUS HAS GRACIOUSLY PROVIDED ME THUS.
HER CONTACT.
NUMBERS THAT MAY BE AFFORDED ONLY TO YOU.
MY LORD.
AS SHE WILL PROCEED TO REFER TO YOU AS ALSO UPON A FORTUITOUS MEETING.
THIS BITCH IS AS PREMIUM AS THEY MOTHER FUCKIN COME, BY YOUR EXACT REQUEST.

WHAT DO YOU WANT. BOY.

I SHOULD LIKE TO ARRANGE AN APPOINTMENT
FOR MYSELF
AS WELL AS MY KITTYBITCH, AS I HAVE MENTIONED PRIOR, MY LORD.
ON THIS DAY WE SHALL UNITE.
WE WILL BE TOGETHER FOREVER IN RIGHTEOUS BLISS, CLEAN OF SIN AND SACRILEGE.
LIKE A FRESH PIMP GETTING SWEET GREEN.
WE SHALL BE THE BEST CITIZENS OF THIS MARVELOUS CITY AS CAN BE
AND LO', GREATER THAN OUR TRAITOROUS AND MIRTHLESS HUSKS HAVE PRIOR ALLOWED.

DO YOU EVER.
SHUT THE FUCK UP.

:o)

STOP THAT.

All in all, it had gone superbly. Kurloz could only assume he'd caught Caiaborus in very high spirits. With luck, his mood would still be so, for today was finally the day. He is so giddy that anyone speaking to him whilst his pen and paper are near receive stretching walls of text, even for the simplest requests. He near dances about both District four's floor in the Tribute Tower and the apartment.

It's been too long since he saw his dear Caiaborus. And now he could introduce him with his darling mage at his side. He hurries along the whole way, eyes bright and fevered with the love of this city. He near drags he along by the hand to the main building.

It stands out among the Capitol, but not for its extravagance, rather it starkness, an entirely loveless building with flat white walls and a wide base. There are no windows. There are very few doors. Kurloz waltzes right into the front portion.

Comments

[quiethumerus]

He feels the sharpness of Meulin's nails and only blinks at it, curious at the faint pain, and then at the cause. He blinks like it's all no more than that; a curiosity. Poor sweet Meulin. She must be afraid. There was no need for that. He makes sure to smile at her real encouraging.

Again, they're off. The keycard is tucked into the pocket of shorts. Meulin's hand is kept in his and there's no point his pace changes, not even should she start to tug. He can't imagine why she would.

He's not sure they've passed the one he entered last time or not. Everything was so foggy then. It's all too hard to recall, and he decides, all in all, that it must not be that important. They get to the right door nevertheless, Caiaborus pausing before it only to enter a door beside it, leaving he and Meulin alone. All the better.

Kurloz turns at last to Meulin, taking that other hand back and squeezing both gently. His smile is bright, even if his eyes seem vacant. He leans down to kiss the top of her head. All will be fine. All will be mother fucking just. Trust me.

[furgood]

There's no tugging. Not yet, not right now. It seems foolish to try to ward this off with that big hulking man there, walking with him. Whatever this is. Even with her instincts screaming that this can't be good, that something is very very wrong, she tries to rationalize. He'd never hurt her. Kurloz would never hurt her.

There should be no more room for anything else in her head, with how she repeats it. Yet, when they stop and he pulls her hands in to hers, she doubts. She doubts even though he loves her, he's her own, and she his, and they've some destiny that brings them together through time and space again and again. He kisses the top of her head and the doubt settles deep and dark in the pit of her stomach. He loves her but might he love the Capitol more?

"Kurloz, what's going on?"

[quiethumerus]

Sister shouldn't doubt. His mage shouldn't fear so. But he supposes this to be expected. He'd earned this. He'd allow her to come to harm. He'd risk her safety again after it. He'd been careless, negligent, and selfish. With all the world at their fingers, he could do what he'd always wished. He could keep her safe.

Slowly, he turns her palm over and writes with his fingers along her arm, tracing each letter for her to feel. Each loving little word. Just like he'd promised, he tells her through writing what would sound serene if only she could hear and he could speak. THE RIGHT THING.

He turns to the door they were left at and pushes inside, into a dark room. He doesn't doubt her to follow. Where else could she go?

The lights slowly flicker on, though dim. He makes his way to a rather medieval chair, straps lining the top and various metal contraptions down the sides. He settles in like it's a throne, right in place, belonging there. The door shuts behind her.

[furgood]

The Right Thing.

If the doubt was a dark thing in her stomach, it engulfs the whole of her now. He's so calm, so peaceful, so happy. He's so sure. What's behind the door? Is he taking her to peacekeepers? Did he find out what she kept so hidden from the one she loved most? Or is this something else, a place she won't return from? To keep her safe from her own rebellion, from the world? A little prison. He lets her hands go and that's when they start to shake.

She follows, slow and hesitant. He's right, there's nowhere for her to go. The door was surely locked behind them. The woman at the desk doesn't look like the type to help. It's strange, how she thought a long time ago when Terezi caught her, that she'd want to let Kurloz know she was sorry before she was taken. Now he takes her. No--No she's wrong. This is all a misunderstanding. It's something silly or serious but nothing horrible. It has to be.

The door shuts behind her before she can take in where he sits. It's for the best, because she slams her back against it, eyes wide. Where did he bring her? It looks like nothing more than a torture chamber.

"What's going on? I don't--I don't understand?"

[quiethumerus]

To the peacekeepers? Never. What prison could he ever bear to see her up in? What harm could he cause to fall upon her? This was merely the necessary shot to fight a disease, a function of the body detrimental to them all even.

Yet she still stays back fearful. He supposes it ain't her fault. She's still like he used to be, full of doubts, full of fear, full of anger at the way of this world. All things what only lead to hurt, of himself, of his friends. She doesn't need to feel that. She doesn't need to know it. He was given a gift and now's his time to share it.

He reaches out to her with both hands, staring into her eyes imploringly. Come, sister, come please. Only a little fear and it would be over. He slips off the throne of need be, moving across the room to take her hands.

He shakes his head at her to say it's nothing bad. She'd only need to come sit with him. Caiaborus would take care of the rest. It would be so much easier if she were willing.

[furgood]

Her hands tremble in his grasp. The fight within is visible on her face and his eyes so dig into her. It feels like they see her soul, try to coax it out into the open where he can take and hold it. The way he sees into her makes her want to give in, want to just go along, and it makes her feel weak. She pulls her eyes away as he shakes his head. Nothing bad, nothing awful. That chair doesn't speak of nothing awful

"I can't. Work..." The lies die on her lips, she always hated doing that with him. Her gaze lifts again, trying to find the truth in him. She doesn't move from the door, still pressed against it like it is all that holds her up.

"I trust you, I just..." Fear, like the elevator, like the dream, like everything.

[quiethumerus]

She lies. How sad it is to hear her lie. But he can't fault her. He supposes, with reason, this could all come as a little unexpected, a little intimidating. But the thing is, he knows her. He knows his girl. He might've have doubted a few months ago, only just seeing her again, but he's sure now.

They're alike, she and him. Not in many way but in one very distinct and vital way; she understands the importance of a smile. All those dark shadows lurking along the subconcious, she knows they'd both rather see them silenced. There's just never been a way before. Not until now.

He takes her hand, pulling it from her so he can trace letters upon her arm. Each word comes slow, but he doesn't mind. This is important enough to warrant close attention. We can make it all go away.

No more fear. No more pain. No more anger. No more anything what ain't wanted for. They could see all that fear destroyed. At what then would they even have to worry about?

[furgood]

Her head tilts, eyes reading what he writes but the light of understanding doesn't reach them. We can make it all go away. She still doesn't quite get it. Doesn't quite see the meaning behind the words, which is telling enough. They will never gain back the easy understanding of childhood but she thought they'd gotten something close now. Something close and something true and pure. Even if she lied. Even if she lied about the things he might never know.

But, instead, she stares at his words, feeling more the touch than the actual meaning behind it. Slowly, she grips his hand and has the sense, the lack of sense, to trust. He would never ever hurt her. Never.

"You promise we'll be okay." It's not a question, not really. She takes a hesitant step away from the door, toward him.

[quiethumerus]

He squeezes her hand, trying to meet that delicate balance of wanting to squeeze tight and never let go, and in keeping her free of pain in what would be a choking embrace. She draws closer and he thinks he feels himself on the edge of that delicate balance even still.

He steps back only enough to give him space. It's only so, when he fold free hand over his heart, he can bow to her properly, assuring that this promise shall go with him even into the grave. Even further still.

They would be okay. Finally they would be safe.

They had to be.

[furgood]

'We'll be okay.' 'He'd never hurt me.' Those two thoughts are all she can hold on to, the mantra that makes her pull away from the door and follow him step by step. His hand might be grasped tight in hers but it's still her thoughts that anchor her. He'd never hurt me.

"Okay."

She takes in the sight of that chair, the throne she will surely be placed upon. The straps, the metal things crawling down the sides. The worry is squashed, even if her body betrays her, even if her breath comes out in shudders.

[quiethumerus]

He smiles at her. Made up of false brightness, it ain't nothing but empty in truth. He guides her along to her seat, letting her down real easy. He goes to kiss the top of her head with stitched lips, with that same smile. Soon enough all that fear would go away.

It was time for this to truly begin.