[closed]

[yetsleeping]

Who: Priscilla (yetsleeping) and Isley (swordofthenorth)
When: Wednesday Evening, after this thread.
Where: Priscilla's suite at the Alliance HQ.
Format: Actionsauce.
What: Isley comes by to discuss his issues with Priscilla. Priscilla, meanwhile, just accidentally awakened some of hers.
Warnings: ...Isley is a dick! also, tl;dr setup, geez.

Comments

[yetsleeping]

You know. "If you could have felt worse then I could have done worse" isn't very comforting.

[It isn't quite the non-sequitur it could be. It isn't even a late response... at least, not entirely. She looks down, away.]

You want me to let you in? I wouldn't know how even if I tried to. And I don't know why I should. You're still telling me half-truths. Even now.

Or did you think I wouldn't notice?

[Priscilla's eyes meet his again - such strange eyes. Like fire and glass and-- she draws a long breath.]

It was different the first time. But you... and Irene, and Zack, and Deneve and even Helen, all of you. I loved you. ...well, maybe not Deneve, but I respected her. And I trusted her. And all of you. And now, it just. It doesn't matter that I'm not angry anymore. It's not the same.

And you. I still don't understand why you-- and I'm not going to ask why, because it doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is...

Everything you say you want? I tried to give to you before, and you didn't want it. And I can forgive it - I did... forgive it. I can stop being angry, and I did.

But I don't understand what possible reason I could have for trying to behave as though I don't know that it could happen again.

[swordofthenorth]

[Fine.]

[They'll do things her way.]

I want you to need me in your life. I want to be needed by you...the way I need you. It goes beyond your potential strength. It goes beyond copulation. I've never wanted this from anyone, never needed it from anyone...the way I need it from you. And I don't know why. I can't tell you why you should or shouldn't let me in. If I tried, it would be empty words. I only know how to show you why. Because without you I have nothing to lose.

[Her eyes, brighter than any winter stars, stare into his own. They're a silvery cold so fragile and so strong, with unfathomable depths...just like her. It saddens and enrages Isley that he can't see the bottom. That maybe one doesn't even exist.]

Part of me wanted to discard you before because of that. It makes me feel...weakened. Every time something hurts you, it hurts me too. This isn't a hurt I know how to fix. It's not the same as regrowing a lost limb or closing a bleeding wound. So it continues, and I didn't want you to know that, but now you do. You're not the only one in pain.

[And he doesn't feel any better for having told her, he feels worse. The only thing that could possibly make him feel any lower would be hearing from her lips that she doesn't understand again. He can't paint a clearer picture for her. He doesn't know how.]

[The memory recorder is broken, but she can record the memories anew, she said so herself. Everything else in her life still stands. The city, and the people in it. Her new headquarters. He's even agreed to help her find the monster that tried to kill her, that took down Teresa, to be her vengeance.]

[Why are these things so small to her?]

[But he knows the answer to that. If something has no bottom, no amount of filling up the hole will suffice. It's so clear suddenly. Clear in the way she said loved instead of love and included him in those names. Clear in the way she can't give him the answers he needs, the same way he can't be needed by her.]

[It's the last time he'll pull away tonight. The last time he'll pick up his cloak, this time fastening it back in place. Its folds hang heavy, concealing every inch of him but his blank as snow expression and his feet, which then take steps toward the door.]

I still don't know what comes next. But I'll find out.

[yetsleeping]

...Isley!

[Priscilla takes a step forward, says his name, reaches for him, before she thinks of what to say next. And just that quickly, she stops, and her raised hand falls back to her side in a fist.]

I--

[What? Think of words. Think of anything. But everything that comes to mind is... defensive, or accusatiory or... sad. It isn't the same - a defense, or a justification, even if it's true. Because pain is pain, yes, but she's never tried to hurt him. And if she's so important to him then how can be so skilled at making her feel so irrelevant?]

[But that won't help, will it?]

[And neither will looking at that word: need. Or wondering what it means. If she walks away, his heart will still beat. His blood will still rush. He'll still hunger and rage and live and breathe, so what does that mean, to need a person?]

[What does any of it mean, really?]

[She could ask him not to go. She wants to. But the only time she ever swallowed her pride long enough to say the words, he'd accused her of keeping him dormant, disconnected in the middle of their conversation and walked away.]

--I give you everything I have. And I love you. And I want.. you. And it's not just words, it's...

I already told you once that I'm not happy without you. I don't know if that's... need, or want or... I don't know.

I don't know what comes next either. It's really up to you.

[As always.]

[swordofthenorth]

[Isley's fingers close upon the handle of the bedroom door. It wouldn't take much to wrench it off its hinges and hurtle it down the hall or through a wall, and while the notion seems tempting, it would take a great deal to repair the damage such actions would inflict. Not physical damage; Anatole tends to repair itself over time. But it would be one more reason in a long list of many for Priscilla not to need him, to be confused and frustrated by him.]

[So he holds the brass handle and nothing more. He welcomes the cool temperature against his palm, gradually growing warmer the longer his hand remains in place.]

[He does not turn to face Priscilla when he says...]

You may love me, you may not be happy without me, but you're not happy with me, either. That is something else I don't know how to fix, not without compromise...and sacrifice.

[He has been questioning whether that would be worth it, however. Everything is already slipping like sand through his fingers; the weaving of his web is coming undone. Lelouch has sworn off his help because of some recent injury. Rigaldo's become willful, and he doesn't have legions of others to do his bidding, only people he has managed to manipulate into a form of acceptance and trust. Useless people. Goodhearted and unwilling to do anything remotely resembling wrongdoing.]

[It's really up to you.]

[And so it is.]

I'm going into the Mist. I want to be alone for a little while.

[yetsleeping]

[She shakes her head a little. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she can hear the scurrying of cats, the padding feet of her foxes, and the beat of her own heart, and of his, and her breath and his, too.]

I am happy with you. Most of the time. No one's happy every second.

And I do love. Who you are. I want you to know that before you go. Just--

[And then, a little breath. She steps closer, close enough to brush her fingers over his shoulders. She kisses the back of his shoulder, too, even through the heavy cloth and though the fur of his neckline tickles her face.]

...don't wish me away.

[She stays there for a moment, hands lingering against his arms, against his white cloak, before she steps away.]

[swordofthenorth]

Don't worry, Priscilla. That isn't a concern.

[Besides, you're not the one I would wish away.]

When I get back I will send you word.

[When she lets go he can feel a chill at his back, even through the heavy cloak draping his shoulders. The absence of her figure pressed against him is more noticeable than he can bear. He turns to face her one last time. Without waiting, without asking, without warning his hands reach for her waist and pull her close. His lips find hers in a demanding and greedy fashion. It lasts...longer than he meant for it to. But after a few moments he pulls away, pulls open the suite door, and crosses into the hallway.]

Until then...don't disappear.

[yetsleeping]

...okay.

[Priscilla takes a shaky breath and nods a little, stepping away from the threshold. Her fingers brush the wood frame of her door, and then the cool metal of the latch for a moment, too. And they brush against her lips, where his heat still lingers.]

Okay. I'll be here. I--

[She pauses for a moment... and then she's in the hall, and she's on her toes, arms around his neck - another kiss, and another breath before she lets go.]

I'll be here.

[And with that, she turns, disappearing into her room and the quiet, and the solitude.]