vatheon | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Sufferer and whoever wants to ~~mob~~ join him
When: September 24th, early afternoon
Where: in the Plaza to start
Style: whatever you like!
Status: totally open

In the beginning, there was pain.

The arrow that pierced his side was not the least of it, but only the last. By the time its barbed head sank into his flesh and hit something deep inside, sending a torrent of cherry blood spilling over his hip and down his leg, blood that looked almost black in the bright light of Derse, it was almost an annoyance and nothing more. Hardly a little pang, after the constant burning on his wrists, and the way the flesh crackled and turned black under the heavy irons. He had lost feeling in his hands long ago, the nerves dying under hot brands and his fingers curling inward towards his palms, and the hot blood that ran down his arms felt almost cool by comparison.

And then, after his blood--his cursed, mutant blood--gushed away from his body and left a sticky, clotted pool under his feet... then, there was nothing.

No neverending light, no peace, no absolution. Just darkness, and emptiness, and a million years crying soundlessly into the void.

And then there was a jolt, and a return of the pain, and he was lying face first on cobblestones, soaked through, and this was all very familiar.

Sufferer looks up, his hair soaked and falling in his eyes, his bare back exposed to the air and still slowly running with blood. His eyes blur, and refocus, and he's next to the fountain, in the Plaza. Vatheon. He's back in Vatheon.

Struggling, he tries to push himself to his knees, but he's hindered by the arrow protruding from his side, its shaft slick with blood and its blue (b100) feathers tacky and standing up like little brushes. His hands are useless; blackened, melted things on the ends of his wrists, and the chains he wore when he died, his shackles... they're still there, turned a cold, sullen black instead of pulsing red, and it's hard to tell where the chains end and his wrists begin.

His mind whirls, remembering Vatheon, images coming to him in fractured, fragmented half-memories--Karkat, growling crabbily after getting a hug... Dualscar's fins, moving under his fingertips... Sola, asking questions with that plaintive look on his face... Zelda... Johnny... Jacob... Dave... Disciple... Spider... Psii...

Psii.

He tries again to get to his feet, but his wounds and the chains on his wrists are too much, and he topples forward again, groaning as the arrow digs deeper into his side. He's worthless, useless, he led them all down the wrong path, everything he told them was wrong, he's a failure, he's failed them all...

Sufferer looks up at the bubble's dome, his eyes so bloodshot they're red almost all the way through, and his jaw works, his teeth grinding together and the tendons in his forearms standing out as he tries to clench his hands into fists. His voice is raspy, his throat raw and choked from the last time he spoke, centuries and seconds before.

He throws his head back and screams at the bubble's dome. "FUUUUUUUUCK!"

His voice ripples and echoes back to him, distorted, animalistic, the cry of a brute instead of a savior. Slowly, he bends back over his chained wrists, resting his forehead on the irons, and the red that stains the cold steel is not blood this time.

"...fuck."

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Sufferer was just listening half-heartedly as the highbloods talked about his hands, feeling rather apathetic about the whole thing--if he bled to death while they were being removed, then he bled to death and perhaps good riddance--but then he heard that soft, feminine voice, and it was like everything in the room stopped.

Disciple... the last time he had seen her, she had been screaming and sobbing, almost wild with rage and anguish, and he had been... dying. And now he was still dying, but she was here, and he turns his head, his eyes going wide, and lurches forward, trying to regain his feet and get to her, his arms rising from his sides and his worthless hands rising before him.

"Kitten..."

Dualscar's got a big smear of red blood on his cheek and a decent amount of the stuff soaked into his shirt, but he's not really aware of it. He's focused on the logistics of what he and Darkleer are discussing, but then Darkleer steps aside and Disciple enters the room.

Oh hell no. Dualscar is just starting to bare his teeth in irritation at the sight of the olive-blooded troll, when Signless makes a foolish and utterly stupid effort to get to her.

He drags him back into his arms, snapping, "No you don't! She can fuckin' come to you. You're in no condition to wwalk anywwhere, for fuck's sake."

Oh, for the love of... Darkleer bares his teeth right back at Dualscar. Whatever his ills, he'll just have to get over it. He wants to tell the Sufferer to stop being an idiot, but there's no time for that. Instead, something from his sylladex quickly appears in one curled up hand. He leans in close to Disciple so he can slip it into hers- a few pills.

"If he keeps acting like this, he'll hurt himself more," he says quickly and quietly. "Slip this to him until the rest of what I need arrives so I can get started on his hands, alright?" That said, he begins to guide her closer to the bedside, eying the injured troll.

With just the slightest nod of affirmation towards Darkleer she released herself from him as they went bedside. Seeing him being cradled in the arms of the seadweller was enough to clench up her insides with anger. She wanted to say or do something to removed her beloved from his arms, but her talk with Darkleer was still fresh in her mind and she knew that was not what Signless needed right now. That doesn't stop her from casting a particularly fiery glance towards Dualscar, but then her attention is back on her beloved.

"I am here Nubby. You are here again, everything is going to be alright."

With that, she finally slips free of her grasp on Darkleer's arm and quickly makes the rest of the way to the bedside. She offers up her hand, carefully placing on his cheek. It is difficult, but she is trying her best to ignore the close proximity of the subject of her ire.

If Sufferer had more energy, he'd probably snap at both Dualscar AND Darkleer right now; stupid goddamn highbloods, quit being dicks to each other and everyone else, he doesn't have the patience for this shit anymore! But he only has eyes for Disciple, and makes a disgruntled whining noise when Dualscar pulls him back. He keeps reaching for her, dimly aware of how hideous his hands and wrists look but unable to help himself.

When she gets close enough, he rests his arms on her shoulders and leans as far forward as Dualscar will allow, nuzzling at her shoulder and the thick fall of her hair. "I'm sorry, Kitten... I'm so sorry..."

Dualscar is only trying to help you, damnit! And it's Disciple he's growling at, not Darkleer, though that's probably not any better.

But he can't keep Signless from his matesprit, so he suffers Disciple's approach, keeping Signless as still as he can. However, he allows Signless to reach for her, stroking his moirail's hair with one hand and holding him close with the other, his eyes narrowed and his expression forbidding.

Yeah, that's really not better and exactly why he growled at you.

Also, don't mind if Darkleer just... stays kind of awkwardly right here. He clears his throat once then stops. He kind of has to.. work. here.

If she could just reach out and remove that infuriating glare off of his... NO. She was here for Signless. The fact that her hatred was drawing her attention from her beloved was like a stab in the blood pumper. The sight of him, clutching onto Her matesprit was enough to make her want to spit fire. Remember the talk with Darkleer, focus on what is important. With redoubled efforts she tries to force the thought of the violetblood out of her mind.

The sight of his hands force a lump in his throat. For once she was thankful of the horrid daymares she had suffered. Recalling him in this state for all those sweeps helped her quickly adjust to the sight of the blackened husks at the end of his arms.

"Why are you sorry? You do not need to apologize for anything." Seeing him reaching out to her cemented a need in her. She pressed closer, trying to embrace the love of her life, seadweller-be-damned.

Sufferer presses to her, and it's as though Dualscar and Darkleer have disappeared; it's like everything has disappeared, except for the scent of her hair and the smoothness of her skin. He presses as close as he can, as close as Dualscar lets him... and then, perhaps surprising everyone, most of all himself, he starts to sob.

"I'm so sorry, Kitten, I... I fucked up everything, I... we failed, we all failed... and it was because of me, everything was my fault... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...

For Dualscar, at least, the tears are in no way surprising.

Dualscar's held Signless as he cried before - cried about this very issue. He shifts over a little, carrying Signless that inch or two closer to Disciple, though there's a part of him that wants nothing more than to simply sweep him up into his arms and leave - by the window if necessary, like Summoner did.

"Shush, noww," he croons, whispering into Signless' hair. "No one blames you. Wwe'vve talked about this. It's ovver noww. You'vve got nothin' to apologize for."

Sufferer, do you really need to make this more awkward? Darkleer can deal with crying, but not from this person, and a petty part of him doesn't want to which only serves to make him more guilty. Eventually, he simply taps Disciple's back. He really needs to do his work, they're low on time.

Watching her beloved's breakdown happening in her arms was like the twisting of a knife in her stomach. This man was her rock in even the worst of times, and to see him like this was heartbreaking. Yet, this pain of loss, of having come so far and having it all cut short was something she had dealt with long ago. She would be strong, for him. It was was her turn to be the rock.

Disciple leans forward to plant a kiss on his forehead. The awkwardness of the angle, and the proximity of Dualscar made her also yearn to just be able to pick him up and flee back to their hive.

"That is not true, light of my life. You have done far more then anyone thought possible. You..." A poke in her back reminds her of the pills in her hand. "Nubby, There is something you need to take, it will help with what has to be done. But do not worry, I will be here for you. No more leaving." With that she offers up her hand to him. "I need you to take these."

Sufferer is glad that Dualscar and Disciple understand him, and are indulging him during this dark, dark moment. He sniffs and looks up from her shoulder, his eyes puffy and red, and sees the pills. "What are they?" he asked, even though he already knows.

Dualscar also views the pills with general suspicion, but he concludes that it's probably a good thing for Signless to take. "Here, I'vve got some wwater," he says, picking up the cup again. "You should drink more anywway. You're all parched an need your strength."

"They're for the pain." Darkleer finally dares to speak up, voice very quiet. "By controlling that, hopefully your internal workings will calm down and allow me to work in peace." Keep his heart from going into overdrive, or bursting his lungs from screaming, things like that.

"Yeah, see? Nothing to worry about, Nubby. Just a couple pills to numb the pain, then... everything will be better." Which hey, if she says and thinks enough it might even be true... Right?

She even manages to surprise herself when Dualscar offers him the water, flashing him just the briefest look of gratitude. She was very much not in the mood for petty sniping right now. Her attention back on her love, she keeps the hand with the pills near enough to his mouth to help him take them.

Oh wow, his lungs bursting from screaming, what a delightful thought!

Sufferer eyes the pills, and then eyes Darkleer for a moment, then the pills again. He knows what needs to be done, but that doesn't make the prospect any easier to take. His hands, they're going to cut off his hands.

"Stay with me," he says quietly, to both Disciple and Dualscar, then lips them off Disciple's hand, turning his head towards Dualscar's cup for water once they're in his mouth.

"I already said I'm not goin' anywwhere, no matter wwhat," Dualscar says superiorially, glancing sidelong at Disciple as he gently helps Signless to sip the water and swallow the pills. Yeah, he knows he's being petty, but he can't help it. Not after Disciple continually accused him of lying about his relationship with Signless. See? He's just as important. So there.

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