thecapitol | I'll be your harvester of light

Who| The Disciple; openish!
What| The Disciple wanders in search of Signless
Where| Training Center
When| Late Week 5/Early Week 6
Warnings/Notes| Angst purrobably

The avoxs have replaced three pillows since she returned and somewhere in her haze, she hoped they didn't get in trouble for the mess they were throwing away. Torn to shreds, covered in green tears, it's not their fault. She's the one acting like a wiggler. Acting like her whole world has fallen apart. Childlishly holing up in her room, waiting for Signless to come to her, to apologize for the hell he put her through. But that's stupid, she realized. Selfish. Cruel.

Eventually she forced herself to watch the coverage. Watch every moment, from Psiionic and Signless, to Terezi and Karkat--the Ininiate who makes her blood boil...To the death in her arms. She watched it twice more, until the tears stop falling and she could face it as it is.

And she still does not know what to say to him. The hate boils but mixes with pity and god she needs a pap, she needs a soothing touch because the Ininiate is somewhere in these walls and she wants to--needs to hunt him down and make him pay.

That's how she ends up wandering around, trying to find him. Down to District 1 where Karkat lives and up to Twelve where he lives. Her stupid selfishness needs to end.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She stays in the doorway for a long moment. It's hard to know what to do or say and all her feelings are still mixed up no matter how much she tries to press the rage and hurt down. Her nails are done up again into perfect little spikes, a rememberance of her attack on the Ininiate she's told, and honestly she's afraid blood might spill if she lets herself rage and dig in her nails like she might have done before. She shouldn't be so upset. She knows how these things are for him, were for him, she knows the depth of his feelings about culling. A low shuddery breath and she fixates on the only thing in the room that hasn't caused her some manner of pain.

"Lusus white." Was that a shitty thing to say? Bringing up lusii when his was not even here--she shook her head, "Kankri...I'm sorry."

White was really the only choice. He'd never had a normal lusus, but it had seemed almost wiggler-like to get a jade one, and white was the color non-trolls should be.

"You have nothing at all to be sorry for. None of what happened was your fault," he says gently. It's amazing how she can do that, make him overflow with pity with just a few simple words.

She smiles, a thin nervous smile. Her nails dug into her palms as she took a few steps inside his room and shut the door. For all her self preparation and all the pity in his words, she still feels the prickle of hurt betrayal. Guilt overwhelms and genuine concern--such a terrible thing.

"It was...screwed up. What he did. How I reacted. Selfish."

He shakes his head, sitting up and setting the tribble aside next to him (it coos softly, seemingly not at all bothered by being moved around).

"No. No, Meulin, you weren't selfish. I shouldn't have... you shouldn't have had to see that. I shouldn't have done it. It was cowardly."

He looks down at his hands. He has to explain, somehow. "I just wanted so badly to get out."

She wants to rush to his side and her hands twitch to reach for him. But something holds her back and her thin smile fades.

"Kankri...no, I understand. I do. I watched it."

She clasps her hand behind her back.

"I know, it's okay."

She needs him to go to her, he thinks, and that's okay. He can do that for her because goodness knows out of everyone who was hurt by this whole sorry mess she deserved it least. So he stands and crosses over to her, brushing his fingers against her cheek, the barest beginnings of a pap. He still isn't sure he's allowed to touch her, after what happened. He keeps expecting the other, far blacker shoe to drop.

"It isn't. It isn't at all okay. You don't need to pretend it is for me."

She shivers, the feeling of his fingertips on her skin makes her want to recoil and lean in all at once. She knows what he expects, her fire, her rage that she had felt in the first few days. When he didn't come to her and she didn't go to him.

She should have come the first day she was back. Gotten this all out at once because the look on his face is killing her. She wants to let that hurt and hate bubble up but she promised herself. She promised herself that she would be the redder sides, the matesprit, the moirail, not the black. Did he really need more hate right now?

When she was sure there was just self hatred bubbling beneath the surface, hers wouldn't help. But god it annoys her how he sees through her protests and how she tries to be better for him. Doesn't he understand? Does he want her to hate her for this?

"I was mad. I was angry. But it's stupid to be angry anymore." She shakes her head and pulls up tight and straight, "We both know what happened, yelling and screaming won't help--would it?"

"I don't know," he says, leaning his forehead against hers and tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, and he really means it. He doesn't need more hate, certainly, but on the other hand when she hates him it's because she expects more of him. Because she wants him to be better. Because she cares, rather than just hating him all the way down. And on some level he knows he deserves her anger and her hatred and it worries him that she might be purposefully holding it back when she knows he deserves it too.

"I just want whatever would be best for you. I want to make this better and I don't know how."

She takes a deep breath and lets it go. Leaning against him helps, in a way, because it's easier to feel him as he is. Maybe it's the moments of solitude that make it harder to be in a relationship again, because she's looking at him with eyes that are seeing the past, not the present in front of her. Her smile lifts her lips and she knocks her forehead against his. In the space between then, she whispers.

"Don't you do that to me again. Promise? I just, I need to know you won't do that again. Just give up--promise me. I can't do that again."

It's harder to answer than it really should be. He can't know he won't shut down and give up again, how things are, but he certainly doesn't want to. It wouldn't be fair to her or Karkat or anyone else that still cares about him. It's probably better to make the promise and do his very best to uphold it than it is to be entirely honest, right now.

"I promise I won't make you go through that again." He presses a kiss to her forehead, to her cheek, finally sliding his arms around her properly and curling his fingers into her hair. "I promise."

The moments of quiet before he answers tug at her heart, an ache she feels in her bones. She doesn't want to be that matesprit, that kismesis, who can't deal with the choices of their partner, who can't adapt to changes in their life. Who lets one incident be the ruin.

What would she do if he said he couldn't promise her? Unleash all the hate she bottles up and smooths over? Leave?

But her answer doesn't have to come and she breathes out a sigh, relief coloring her voice, "Thank you, I don't think I could do that--watch you and hear you say such things, not again..."

Hands that hung limp at her sides curl in his shirt for a moment, bunching the fabric at his sides and then wrapping loose around his waist. Her claw make little pinpricks in the fabric that the stylists might tut over. She doesn't care.

"You're better than that."

Luckily Cinna is a more forgiving stylist than most. If she ruins a shirt or two, Signless is sure he won't really care.

"It helps to know you think so," he says. And it does. Her belief and support has got him through times like this before, though never ones quite this bad.

"It's hard to remember sometimes, here. I'm going to need you to keep reminding me."

With a kiss to his forehead, she lets herself relax. The more stressful parts of their conversation past, she can let the tension drain away. It's easy to lean in and nip at his cheek, just like she might have done sweeps ago. It's easy to be with him, to expect the best of him, like he does of her.

"That's why I'm here. To keep reminding you."

I'll be your harvester of light

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