[Incomplete]

[agebeforeanger]

Who: Lena and Tyve
When: Somewhere on the streets of Purgatorium
Where: Shortly after the massacre ends, Sunday afternoon
Rating: ... PG-13?
Warnings: Crazy Lena. ... running with knives? Mentions of torture and nightmare fuel?
Summary: Lena... kind of went nuts. And

Comments

[thepilotsseat]

This was all too much trouble than what it was worth. Far too much

[agebeforeanger]

... Unfortunately, Lena was very bad at understanding Tyve's reasoning, even when she was coherent. She... vaguely understood that people worried. Those at home had too. But... how could she not try to help? Here, especially, where she had to act like an adult?

Even if she could never seem to manage it.

Lena jumped violently at Tyve's yells, responding without thinking. "T- Ty-" she cut herself off. It wasn't-

The recorded voices had seemed to echo in her head, this was just- or another monster. Or the real Tyve, which was almost worse. She'd-

Lena bolted for the back door, running as quickly as her exhausted body could manage. Not that it would work. Not for very long - her legs were shorter than almost any adult's - monster's - and even two months of practice and copious adrenaline could only help that so much.

It was- it was light out. The worst things didn't come out until dark. So with any luck, she wouldn't run into...

[thepilotsseat]

Tyve nearly jumped at the noise of someone bolting. On something that sounded suspiciously like two feet. More specifically, a child on two feet. Without hesitating, the soldier dashed through the house, trying to follow the sound. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a familiar person sprinting out the back-door.

"LENA, STOP RIGHT THERE!" The White Fang leader practically roared. After running on very little sleep and the stress accumulation of both Beyond Birthday's games and Euphemia's rampage, the pilot's temper had not only reached the breaking point, but also went on to grand new heights. And damned if a wayward, ablit currently mentally disturbed, young girl was going to exacerbate it.

[agebeforeanger]

Lena froze automatically with her hand on the door's handle, head whipping around with the classic expression of a guilty child. "Ty-"

It looked like Tyve. She was pretty sure it was Tyve. And the broken windows meant it wasn't that dark out so- so-

Lena backed unconsciously as far into the corner as she could manage, unarmed hand wrapping around her middle. "Tyve," she finally managed to whisper, voice hoarse from- she wasn't thinking about that.

She was mad now. Lena could tell. Her eyes were- that wasn't real. That wasn't real. People didn't-

Lena shook her head violently, fingers white-knuckled around her stolen cleaver. 'long as she didn't-

[thepilotsseat]

Tyve was in no mood for treating the situation with a delicate hand. "Lena Vela. I asked you to remain at headquarters." Her voice was low, with an edge to it, something that seemed more frightening than when she had raised her voice earlier. "And it appears you decided the proper course of action was to become a vigilante for justice."

She stepped toward the girl, radiating anger. "Give me that knife. Now."

[agebeforeanger]

Tyve's mood would have made perfect sense to someone who wasn't having a nervous breakdown. As it was... Lena's eyes flew wide the moment Tyve began stepping forward. "I- I- I had t-to-"

The words stopped registering after that; the knife clattered to the ground as Lena covered her ears, shaking visibly.

Her broken whisper was obviously the last refuge of coherence, as she tried desperately to slide further into the corner. "go away."

[thepilotsseat]

Tyve sighed inwardly. She was in no mood for this. Not at all. She strode quickly towards the younger girl, eyes hardening as she did what needed to be done. Lena would be getting no sympathy at this moment. Her left hand went up and came down swiftly, catching Lena in the face in a slap that cracked in the silence. It was harsh, but in the pilot's eyes, necessary.

"Get a hold of yourself. You say you want to help, but if disregarding everyone's concern for you and throwing yourself headlong into danger is your idea of help, then I would rather not have it. You are a child. Not an adult." The woman said, grimacing slightly as she flexed the fingers of her left hand. Her injured hand. This would call for bandaging later..

But for now, there were more pressing matters.

[congrats. she bought herself five minutes of pseudo-sanity. ^^]

[agebeforeanger]

One breath.

Two breaths.

No blood falling from the hand pressed to her cheek, but it still hurt enough to- "Tyve."

Only people were that confusing.

Lena didn't quite move away from the wall, but she stopped trying to edge her way into it, for the most part. "Conc-" They'd said so at home. But then they'd just... ignored hers. Which was worse.

"I- ... wasn't throwing. Search pattern. ... you didn't hear--" It was still hard to manage more than a whisper; her abused vocal cords didn't want to cooperate.

Tyve goes :|

[thepilotsseat]

The former pilot frowned. "That still gives you no excuse to run off like that. While I respect the fact that you are coping well enough here on your own, the fact that you seem to have a certain disregard to orders and other people's concern is not something I can stand by and tolerate."

The woman crossed her arms. "We have enough deaths on our hands that I don't particularly enjoy the thought of having to add yet another casualty to the list." The blond shook her head. "Is any of this sinking into that head of yours? You are twelve years old. With no combat experience to my knowledge, and yet you insist on getting into dangerous situation. Exercise some common sense for once."

She was beginning to remember why she disliked children.

Lena goes ? ..... wut is this 'self-preservation'?

[agebeforeanger]

Lena stared, eyes wide and uncomprehending. No, it wasn't sinking in at all. "They don't- they die i-if I don't-"

"'s m-my fault. Have to-"

Zhygure and B had been excellent at providing that notion - with memory as mutable as it was, she had no way of knowing whether those she loved had really been tortured because of her rash words or not. And Hisoka, certainly, seemed to have been-

Lena would have offered a well-reasoned argument on how her age and experience didn't seem to matter here. At the moment, though, it seemed like a better idea to slide down the wall into something approximating a sitting position, shaking her head wordlessly. She was very, very tired, suddenly.