thecapitol | A dream I dreamed // OPEN

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A dream I dreamed // OPEN

Who: The Disciple & Anyone
What: Exploring the center from the elevator doors
Where:Training Center Elevator/Any Floor
When: Today, anytime
Warnings: Probably tears.

Too many hands had touched her this morning for comfort. A woman used to living alone and running if people came too close was not suited to strange aliens manhandling her or others insisting that her clothing be changed. Her hissing and tearing at the clothing they pressed at her just got hurt scared looks and she felt a pang. No stronger than grubs, these creatures with their clothes and devices held out pleadingly. Eventually guilt and a sense of inevitability made her take the clothes she was offered and let them pull the knots from her hair.

They called themselves humans when she asked. Humans. Aliens. Was she merely a creature to them, to be kept for their amusement, killing and playing their games. Hardly. She pulled on the only thing she had managed to save from their hands, a long skin and fur cape, and held it closed over the clothing. As much as she liked the leather and fur that adorned her outfit, she almost wanted to tear it off.

The Disciple did, at least, want to find out where she was being kept beyond these rooms. A way out was probably too much to ask at this point, given that they had subdued her before. Their words and explanations flew over her head, things she didn't know of or understand. They at least managed to explain the elevator to her and when she asked if she was to merely stay here, they encouraged her to go look around. Technology she didn't quite understand swept her up and down until her stomach was queasy and at each new floor, she surveyed the area from the elevator doors and occasionally stepped off to explore.

She's not as silent as she hopes with new clothes to adjust to and the ding that precedes her at every floor makes any hope of a silent entry impossible.

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She narrows her eyes. Does he not know her? Maybe without her usual clothes she's not as recognizable. Or simply word of her and Signless--and all the rest--had faded from memory. It had been so many sweeps. Would those who were born when he died even know of him. Why is she questioning her own lack of notoriety when it's to her advantage.

"No." Short, simple, she doesn't know him. Though the idea that he's familiar is still nagging at her brain. She's seen him somewhere.

She doesn't know him. But every troll who's come here-- save her younger, the Neophyte's, and mutant's, who all know each other-- had connection to someone or other somehow. He doesn't imagine the capitol throwing off that pattern now.

"The Neophyte, then? THE ORPHANER?" He eyes her carefully, watching for every twitch or change in expression. "...What of the Helmsman, or psiioniic?"

Her eyes widen at the last names, though she tries not to react. The connection might give her away where her appearance might not. Why would he know of him? Is he here? She forces her heartbeat to slow with deep breaths and raises an eyebrow.

"Why are you asking?"

He catches the widening of her eyes and a grin flickers on his face. His arms spread wide.

"WHY ALL WOULD A MOTHERFUCKER ASK, SISTER? Trying to figure on for who the fuck you all up align with. WHETHER A SISTER IS ALL TO BE FRIEND OR MOTHERFUCKING FOE SO TO SPEAK ON IT." He feels no shame in saying it up front. It would come out sooner or later. "And figure it to be my motherfucking business at to know what all that particular troll deems worth association."

She narrows her eyes purposefully and keeps her fingers at the clasp of her cape. She's not going to turn her back on him, even to run. But she'll answer for now.

"Psiionic was an ally. I haven't seen him in sweeps." So many sweeps, "Is that enough of an answer for you."

He looks her over, silent for a moment. Was an ally. It could mean two different things of course, that she knew him.

"FOR NOW," He says. "...You're one of the Signless's lot ain't you. LOT OF MOTHERFUCKING GOOD IT'LL DO YOU HERE. But that all being the case I want it up and motherfucking understood. I WANT AT YOU TO GET COMPREHENSION UNTO WHAT I SPEAK." He looks her dead on. Indigo-grey to olive green.

"...If you do anything what to harm my moirail I WILL FLAY YOU ALIVE, AND UPON REMOVAL OF YOUR LAST BIT OF FLESH, TEAR YOUR SORRY CORPSE TO SHREDS whether we are within an arena or not. BUT IF YOU ARE INDEED AN ALLY AS YOU SO SAY AT TO I, then I figure at it won't be a problem. PERHAPS HE WILL EVEN FIND FOR YOU HIMSELF LATER."

She frowned. Moirail. Wait--Wait was this indigo the moirail of Psiionic? Was he...What. There was no way. Was there? She would have to take his word for it.

"As if I would do anything to hurt him. The world did enough of that as it is." She doesn't quite understand what the arena entails yet. But she would never do anything to hurt him if she could help it. She does have to admire his dedication to his moirail at least. Romance was a serious business.

"Never thought I'd say at this to one what's of heretic kind, BUT MOTHERFUCKING PREACH," He says. "But good then." He doesn't bother to say how surprised he is that she actually listened. Or at least, she seems so. He folds his arms over his chest, still eyeing her as the elevator slowly made its way.

"TELL A BROTHER. Why all would a sister give her name over her motherfucking title? AIN'T YOU GOT ONE?"

She doesn't bother to mention her own surprise that he agreed with her at all. What a strange indigo. What did Psiionic see in him? If he was really Psiionic anymore. Helmsman--the rumors were true.

"My title gives away more than just who I am. I'd rather not make myself a target if I could help it." That he or his would make her a target goes unsaid.

"Sister, let me get confessional on unto she; I AIN'T GOT DAMN MOTHERFUCKING IDEA AT TO WHO YOU ARE. But I know at you ain't of the Mirthful sort and you know all for the Helmsman when he ain't being the Helmsman. AIN'T A WHOLE LOT ELSE WHAT TO FIGURE." He shrugs. "But I promise at you, YOU BEING HERE MEANS AT YOU'RE ALREADY A MOTHERFUCKING TARGET. Best at to watch all who is to be shooting."

He laughs wryly to himself. Some private joke that he's got no intentions of sharing. At least not yet.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment, maybe he did know who she was. A target twice over--No. Coincidence. She glances to the elevator door.

"The Disciple. I'm the Disciple."

"DISCIPLE... Think a motherfucker's got better understanding now."

He could keep it to himself. Let her find out later. Let it be a surprise of sorts. But he always prefer to take certain matters into his claws.

"ALREADY GOT TO TELLING YOU FOR WHAT I GO BY. But I am from a time before anyone what gets reside here. I AM THE BEFORE TO EACH AND EVERY MOTHERFUCKING ONE OF YOU. And I will be the after what persists. SEEMS ONLY TO BE MOTHER FUCKING FAIR AT TO SHARE IT TOO. Whether she gets the wicked belief up in her pumper for it, IT IS ONLY MOTHERFUCKING FAIR." He holds his palms upward.

"Initiate Fraysong. FUTURE GRAND HIGHBLOOD. Welcome to the motherfucking games, DISCIPLE."

Her change in demeanor isn't instant. She has to take a moment to process it and he can probably enjoy the way her eyes widen and lips pull back in a snarl. Her whole body shifts from neutral wariness to on the edge of leaping and tearing out his throat.

"I knew you were familiar." She whispered harshly, "I knew. You fucking bastard."

She hates herself for reacting to it at all. It's what he wanted. She knew that. He wanted her to react like this and she is but she can't help it.

"Sister, I ain't even motherfucking lived it yet. I TOLD NO MOTHERFUCKING LIE. I gave no false fucking warning. BEEN NOTHING BUT GOD DAMMNED GENEROUS TO SHE."

He tilts his head to the side. Examining. His face is all taunt and challenge.

"Could even leave a fucker to wonder why. WHAT ALL DID YOU UP AND DO AT TO EARN SUCH A THING? ...Do you know what all was done to him? DO YOU KNOW WHY?"

"What do you mean what I did to earn such a thing." She hissed, "Such what thing?"

Before he could reply, she shook her head quickly. She wasn't going to call him a liar. If anything, she felt betrayed, not lied to. And she couldn't even pinpoint why. Maybe because she had finally felt like she was meeting a highblood who might not want to immediately see her dead. She wasn't really sure. It was just there, sharp and sad.

"And I know you didn't lie. Don't be stupid. You don't know who I am so how could you lie. You're just a horrible troll. A horrible murderous being. And I want nothing to do with you."

"But you want to do with the Helmsman, don't you?" He hisses. "WHEN YOU HAVE NO RIGHT. You don't even understand what you've done do you? YOU DONT EVEN MOTHERFUCKING KEN WHAT ALL HE WAS LEFT TO BECAUSE OF YOUR FRAUDULENT CAUSE. You claimed to be his ally once so where were you!?"

He knew where he'd been. He knew what he'd done-- was meant to do. He couldn't change what was already done, even if he hadn't yet done it. But that didn't excuse the Signless and it didn't excuse her. Not unless she had something worth while to explain for it.

"CALL AT I A BASTARD. Call me motherfucking horrible. MURDEROUS, AS I AM! But you did nothing to earn anything but from me. YOUR SAVING GRACE LIES WITH HIM AND NOTHING ELSE! unless you truly did try for him, THE HELMSMAN. So tell me; DID YOU?!"

Her breath caught and she snapped back, pressed against the wall. Traitorous tears springing to her eyes and she has nothing. She ran. She knew he didn't want her to die but she didn't want him to live like that--like this--she--She did nothing. Nothing.

"I'm a traitor. I ran. Don't you think I know what I did?!"

And then she stalked across the elevator, stopping just short of him. Even with her old and he young, he's taller than her but she looks up at him without flinching or fear. If she died here, would that make this right. "Don't tell me what I did when I had to live with being that traitor and that horrible person to him and don't you dare tell me I can't try to make this up to him. Don't you dare try to tell me what I already know!"

"I condemned three trolls--you condemned millions. Don't you dare compare us."

He glares down at her, teeth bared. His hands are clenched tight at his side. Cull her. Make her pay, make her motherfucking pay. He raises a fist.

Then slams into the wall behind him. It cracks. It cracks and his hand bleeds. They'll know it was him. He doesn't care.

Through his teeth he says, "YOU are NOT THE ONLY MOTHERFUCKING ONE what recognizes their sin against him. AND I WILL NOT LET IT HAPPEN TO HIM AGAIN. So long as you up and motherfucking understand."

He wrenches his hand free and forces it down to his side.

"I WILL TELL HIM YOU ARE HERE. If he still thinks you an ally. THEN YOU SO MAY SPEAK. But you will not take from me, AND IN RETURN IF HE SO CHOOSES TO KEEP YOU, I WILL NOT TAKE HIM FROM YOU."

Edited 2013-09-04 01:39 (UTC)

She nods once, quickly, eyes fixed on his. His moirail, she repeated, someone to keep him sane. They need to be sane. It's important, she can't get mad or demand to bypass. She knows better than anyone else. She can't get in the way. Even if her blood boils and she wants to claw his eyes out for even daring to mention--No. She steps back, away from him.

"I doubt he would find me an ally after all I did not do. But I'd like to speak to him. Apologize. Offer what I can."

Her body trembles with the need to fight or run that she is forcing down. Hands fall to her sides, then spread out. Everything about her posture is wrong, forced. A forced example of trust she does not feel for him, but perhaps Psiionic. Defenseless. "Tell him I will do whatever he feels would ever possibly make it up. If nothing can, I understand."

She and him both. Shaking hands and too-tense postures. Burning veins. But he lifts his chin. It will do. It will have to do.

"NOT A WORD MOTHERFUCKING MINCED. I will tell exactly as was said," He promises. The elevator shutters to a stop and finally the doors open.

"BUT IN MOTHERFUCKING MEANTIME" He adds, before he starts out. "I still mean at what all was said. THERE ARE TARGETS PAINTED ALREADY AND BELIEVE IT OR FUCKING NOT IT AIN'T HE WHAT PAINTED THEM. Watch at for your associations. OR SO A FUCKER MAY BE DRAGGED WITH THEM." And he would be damned if the Helmsman would be one of them.

She nods quickly and sharply, letting him step out before she swivels and punches the wall. Not hard enough to break her hand or the wall, but enough to get out the terrible feeling of knowing she could do nothing. Pruna said something about training. She had a terrible feeling she'd be there more often than not.

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A dream I dreamed // OPEN

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