(Untitled)

[fallforthesky]

[Lenalee has been running for the last two weeks. Hasn't stopped since she started, at the conclusion of her doomed-from-the-beginning brawl with Allen. Since then, she's merely been surviving (not healing, surviving). Tempting fate with excursions dangerously far North to decimate Finders, too, although even then she's just kept running. She isn't

Comments

[dualmelody]

[He should have known, really, that eventually his own command would wilt and wither away to that of the Countess's. It really wasn't that his abilities as a Noah were any less or any more powerful than hers - he didn't want to think about what it might mean if they were, really - but that he knew that his command to keep her in the courtyard had been half-hearted at best. Allen hadn't wanted to believe that he could exercise that sort of control. Not against Lenalee

[fallforthesky]

[There are equal parts respect and fear in the way she clambers to her feet the second he crosses the threshold. Her brain is NoahNoahNoah--him. And so she's up and moving, pressing back a weak step or two.]

[He might, in his determination to avoid her soul, notice how her knee buckles as she does, because damn if she didn't do a number on herself in that fight and moving so quickly now is a Very Bad Idea. That she's returned to backing away from him may or may not be a backhanded kind of comfort at least in familiarity, if nothing else.] N-No. I didn't.

[Technically a truth.]

[dualmelody]

[That's what kills him inside. It really is technically a truth. And for that, he sighs and continues to stroll forward, boots clicking against the cobblestone.]

[He isn't going to backhand her; he couldn't ever do that. And it makes his heart drop deeper into his stomach when he watches her recoil like that. Allen reaffirms himself, squaring his shoulders beneath the General's coat, and sighs.]

Stand.

[Stand up. Stop recoiling. Stop trying to hide. Please.]

[fallforthesky]

[It's a dangerous thing, getting so crestfallen by the backing away. One of them has to do it; keep the tango going. It's her when she's human, and it's him when she's not-- but even then it's sometimes still her, isn't it? Because apparently she can't make herself lower her hackles even when half her mind is programmed to want to tack 'Lord Noah' onto her sentences. Which she. Will never do.]

[She does straighten at his request, however, wearing the expression of a child who's been chided for crying and is trying not to burst into tears for it. Startled. Ashamed. A little insolent. Her knee stays buckled.]

[Tone thick, defensive:] I didn't disobey. There was s-something I had to d-- you can't expect me to only listen to you! That isn't how my head works!