i want you here (open)

[jemerite]

Characters: jemerite and You (open)
Date: July 17th
Summary: He can't do this to her.
Warnings: Zinc's world is vaguely offensive in its necrophilia? Her narrative can be kind of gory. She thinks about killing things, a lot.

Comments

[notvitiligo]

OK so there's confused yelling from the part of the Gardens Jessica has mentally designated "the newbie area." This is usual, and she heads in the direction of the voice.

Then there's screaming from the newbie area. She breaks into a run, and stumbles breathlessly into the field of wildflowers bearing the new arrival.

"hahh hahh... are you- hahh- okay?!"

[jemerite]

Zinc is startled by this thing suddenly bursting onto the scene and she scuttles backwards on her hands, hissing as she curls into herself. It takes her a moment to recognize the girl as a human, she looks strange, smells a little strange as well.

Perhaps, under better circumstances, she might have been more curious, but at the moment she is angry and she is alone--(He's left her, that bastard, how could he?)

"Where"--she snaps it, low and rasping--"am I?" She growls furiously, ranting to herself in slurred words. "He can't. He can't leave me."

[notvitiligo]

...definitely not OK. Emotionally, at least. She looks intact, at least.

"Uhh... hahh hold on a sec..." Trying to explain the Gardens to newbies is hard enough without also being out of breath.

"OK, um... did you read the thing the cat gave you?"

[jemerite]

Her nose scrunches up in a little sneer. Read the thing the cat gave her? Cat? What cat? Why would she take messages from a cat, she could rip their little heads off--(and leave their entrails on Barbet's fucking doorstep as a calling card before she ripped his head off in kind.)

The large white cat is still sitting nearby, looking bored with the proceedings and Zinc gives it an angry look. It trots up, dropping the scroll near her, nearly rolling its eyes before washing its hands of her nonsense and sauntering away.

She hisses again, irritated by its attitude, but she looks back at the girl suspicious.

"What is it?"

[nelsangue]

After decades of training, of being on high alert lest she wind up with guards bearing down on her, Ezio's ears pick up the commotion and her urge to help and to aid has her heading in the direction of the shouts, quiet thump of her feet and rattle of her weapons as she approaches. Her hands are held out in a placating manner; some she has come across who need aid, when in such a state, are likely to lash out and she would rather not have to get physical if she can help it.

"Calma, calma," she says, peering from beneath the pointed cowl of her robe, "I do not believe the cat is the one who is deserving of your anger signorina. Is there anything I can do?"

[[ooc: Calma - calm down, signorina - miss.]]

[jemerite]

This one is human, she knows it, she can smell it, can smell the steel and the leather as well. There is something enticing to both and Zinc's wailing lowers to a quieter murmur of despairing rage as she hunches down into herself, wary and looking exceedingly inhuman in her animal fear.

The woman--(she can smell it)--says something to her in Italian, and it is easy enough to understand, she is not that stupid, not yet.

"Town. I need to go back."

[nelsangue]

Ezio steps past the cat - she's not overly fond of the snotty little things anyway - and keeps herself at arms length just to be on the safe side. Waking up here was an odd experience to her and this girl reminds her of those she has overheard in Rome and other cities with a Templar sway.

"Mi dispiace but I do not believe that leaving the gardens to return to whatever town you must get to is any easy or simple task. I am Ezio Auditore, do you have a name madonna?" A hand reaches out, hovers because not everyone is good with touch, as Ezio has learned but she is tactile usually when she's soothing people be they young boys who fear losing a mother, a man who has lost a wife to the gallows or a courtesan who fears one of her friends poisoned at the hands of a doctor. Still, caution will win out with her when she is removed from her element and it will take another few months before she is fully comfortable as herself here in these gardens.

[jemerite]

"Mi dispiace..." she repeats this distractedly, her mind unraveling it. She enjoys puzzles, and if she were in a better state of mind she would pester Ezio to say more for her. Her brow furrows as she moves on to assessing the rest, that she cannot leave, that she cannot return to town. She notices the hovering hand and stares at it warily, but doesn't flinch.

"What do you mean. Cannot leave?"

[existwithoutme]

Kuja hears the screaming and is unmoved. How could mere screams move someone like her? Moved or not, she is interested. Pain is associated with sympathy, empathy, and she does crave these things, the ability to experience them more, to experience anything more than the dull, despairing ache she feels most of the time (but not to feel anger--no, not that).

She is curious and selfish then, not concerned, as she seeks the source of the screams and finds the woman kneeling in the grass, among the flowers. It's a pretty sight: greenery, misery, and petals, and she watches it coldly before she makes herself known.

"That won't do you any good," she says.

[jemerite]

Her head whips around quickly, body coiling in on itself like something preparing to strike. Her brown eyes narrow with a hiss.

"Who are you?"

She didn't need to be mocked, it hurt enough as it was. She'd been abandoned, and there was nothing that would change that. Even if she killed him, the satisfaction would be brief, the loneliness total, the descent complete. Without him there is nothing but the animal; there is no use fighting.

[existwithoutme]

Faced with this bestial behavior, Kuja smiles the arrogant, careless smile of a near-invulnerable construct.

"Ah, a little serpent. How charming."

She follows up her smile with a smoothly practiced, sweeping bow. "I am Kuja. We are all of us trapped in the same bower, and not all the wailing in the world will set us free."

[jemerite]

Zinc's lip curls, still feeling very mocked and resentful, angry and confused. This thing doesn't smell like a human, calls her a serpent and says she's charming, which would be interesting, flattering, on any other day. Instead, she is distracted by this talk of being trapped.

"Trapped where?" Her speech is imperfect, grows slurred and uneven in a pique. "I'm going back. He can't leave me here."