(no subject)
If she'd had a heart, she'd have known what to do. She believed that as much as she believed in her own existence. If she'd had a heart she could have helped instead of handing Demyx off into a world she could never reach. It'd never been a priority before, she did well without the obsession of her superiors. But of course, the lack was rammed home upon occasion.
The barest edge of pain was muted away when her coat and gloves returned. A fraction...she'd done herself true harm in holding Demyx. After all, if you gave someone your trust...you handed them the weapons to kill you. If you were lucky, they didn't do it intentionally.
She trusted, and relied upon, her girls. They did the same with her. But...
...everyone needed an equal they could trust as well. Just one to support them.
And she'd given him away.
Her laughter, as she stepped from the paths, was empty and cold. Lacking even the body memory that usually made the sound musical. She'd have to work on the sounds of bitter irony; it'd been too long since she practiced it. The girls flowed around her, Ninjas and Dancers...
Her own lessers were cajoling the Dancers up into the wires; pushing them gently into games to distract them from events they couldn't control. Things they couldn't understand. Her lessers were doing a better job of 'taking care of them' than she was herself. Everything about the day had been wrong.
She almost wished she could sleep, just to wake and find it all a dream.
Almost.
She couldn't, wouldn't, forget. But she could...not think about the repercussions for awhile. She could wrap her coat tightly and ignore the deep, dark seeped pain as she gave in to temptation and jumped into the wires.
For a little while she could be just a girl. One among many, a darker shadow among grays. She didn't even notice when the game full of Dancers and Ninjas grew too large for her home and slipped out onto the roofs of New York. She wouldn't have stopped it even if she had. Games were simple, and now...she needed simple.
The barest edge of pain was muted away when her coat and gloves returned. A fraction...she'd done herself true harm in holding Demyx. After all, if you gave someone your trust...you handed them the weapons to kill you. If you were lucky, they didn't do it intentionally.
She trusted, and relied upon, her girls. They did the same with her. But...
...everyone needed an equal they could trust as well. Just one to support them.
And she'd given him away.
Her laughter, as she stepped from the paths, was empty and cold. Lacking even the body memory that usually made the sound musical. She'd have to work on the sounds of bitter irony; it'd been too long since she practiced it. The girls flowed around her, Ninjas and Dancers...
Her own lessers were cajoling the Dancers up into the wires; pushing them gently into games to distract them from events they couldn't control. Things they couldn't understand. Her lessers were doing a better job of 'taking care of them' than she was herself. Everything about the day had been wrong.
She almost wished she could sleep, just to wake and find it all a dream.
Almost.
She couldn't, wouldn't, forget. But she could...not think about the repercussions for awhile. She could wrap her coat tightly and ignore the deep, dark seeped pain as she gave in to temptation and jumped into the wires.
For a little while she could be just a girl. One among many, a darker shadow among grays. She didn't even notice when the game full of Dancers and Ninjas grew too large for her home and slipped out onto the roofs of New York. She wouldn't have stopped it even if she had. Games were simple, and now...she needed simple.