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Who: Signless and the Disciple
Where: Disciple's house.
When: April 7th ish.
What: Signless shows up at Disciple's house.
Warnings: Some injuries and some suicidal ideation.

He leaves a speckled blood trail when he enters, his wounds still seeping blood through his body suit. The gaps in the bio material haven't yet had the chance to heal, and neither has his body. It doesn't seem urgent, and so he ignores it, the idea that he's bleeding only a passing thought as he searches the house for the Disciple. He can't feel her anywhere.

She must be gone.

It doesn't matter, he thinks. He came and that's all he needs to do, isn't it? This was his destination, and now that he's here...well, he doesn't have any more planned. This is as far as he's gotten.

He eventually curls up on the couch, trying to rest away the exhaustion of electrical injuries. If she shows up, she does. If not...it doesn't really matter. It doesn't.

Its chill without his cloak, having discarded it in the fight, but by the time she returns he's asleep.

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Di had been out for a long run. She ran every day, to keep in shape, to clear her mind, to travel to new parts of the city. With a city this huge there were always new sights to see and little havens to discover. The olive troll always bushes herself more and more so by the time she's returning home she is exhausted and nearly misses the trail of blood.

If not for the scent she might not have caught it at all, but the sharp, almost metallic aroma hits her like a punch to the gut and her eyes fix on it. Her senses go on alert and she slowly makes her way to her door, standing for a moment to listen as hard as she could. No noise that she could hear came from inside, but the smell of blood did seem to be stronger.

Di deliberated for a while longer before entering. Nothing seemed out of place and eventually she saw just who the blood was coming from.

Di hadn't expecting that he would actually come, and for a moment she is so happy that has has. It last until she remembers that she is injured and she hurridly makes her way to him, checking to see if he is still breathing.

He is still breathing, and steadily, even if it seems heavy and wearied. His suit is marred in some places, but blood is seeping very slightly, now. Nothing that seems critical, even if he saw fit to pass out on the couch only shortly after his arrival.

His ear twitches at the sound of her approach, the pace of his breath shifting as he rises from sleep. Even so, he doesn't quite tune into her presence.

To her relief is seems like he is okay but nonetheless she leaves to fetch her first aid kit, wondering all the time if she should be doing this. Confused as she still was about his identity Disciple wanted to help, but she couldn't forget that he was still a very unpredictable danger. She almost felt as if she were betraying Karkat and the Sufferist in not turning him in right now but...she had to try. She had to make sure of who he was, and irregardless of who that ending up being, she had to try and ease the obvious pain he was in.

After getting the first aid kit and a glass of what she carefully set them down next to the couch and reached out a hand to gently touch Signless' shoulder.

"Signless?"

He growls faintly - an automatic reaction as he wakes up. He doesn't completely remember where he is or why he came here, but the scattered shards of memory keep him from reacting with immediate violence. He shifts uncomfortably as he tries to get into a more defensible position, but it doesn't really work partially well when he's still tired and confused.

"No," he says wearily, but in reaction to what is not quite clear.

That makes her go quiet for a moment and she bites her lower lip but simply continues to try and rouse him.

"Sorry to wake you, but you're injured. Let me patch you up."

She probably ought to clean up that blood too. The CONDOR safehouse it fairly isolated, but best to make sure no false alarms were sent out.

He pulls away from her warily, watching her with hazy eyes. It's her, he thinks. She's here. Why is he here? He feels the burn on his skin, and slowly starts to remember.

"I don't know why I came here," he says, trying to focus. "Don't...don't touch me."

Edited 2014-06-05 21:33 (UTC)

He looks so dazed and confused, even more so than usual. For a moment his first comment makes her a bit happy. Even if he doesn't know, it makes her hope that maybe he's willing to start opening up a little bit. The end of that sentence dashes such hopes but she pulls her hand away as requested.

"Alright. It doesn't look so bad you can't do it yourself but you should do something about it. You don't need an infection." She holds the first aid kit out to him, deciding to leave questions until he has been taken care of and become more oriented. She can wait.

He curls himself against the back of the couch, just looking at her. He just doesn't seem concerned about fixing himself at the moment, and it seems like there is little chance of him constructively seizing the situation when he doesn't even both to take the kit from her. He just looks around dizzily before staring at his knees.

"You said I could come here," he mumbles, uselessly. "You said that I could..." He trails off and stares at his hands, flexing his fingers. "I don't know what I'm doing."

Wow. He was acting even stranger than usual, and that was saying something. She frowned in concern.

"I did. I meant it. I'm glad you came. Do you need to stay here for a while?" There were so many possibilities for why he was here and acting like this and Di was sure she could only imagine a fraction of them.

"If you do, you are welcome to. Don't strain yourself. Just relax. Can I get you something?"

"When I go back, they're going to..." His words fade off again, his voice out of step with his thoughts. Does he need to stay? He came here didn't he? Why did he come here, because he was trying to get away? Why did he think he could?

"I...I hate this," he says, clawing at where his suit covers his wrist and turns into a fingerless glove. His eyes become wet with tears out of sync with the rest of his body - a spec of moisture rolls down his cheek, even as his expression stays blank, like the rest of his body doesn't acknowledge that it's happening. "I hate it. I can't think..."

Her chest constricts at that sight and she wants nothing more than to hug him. The only thing that keeps her from doing so is the large possibility that that might just make things worse.

Di can only assume that 'they' is the Empress. She can't be certain but as far as she's aware that's the only other place Signless has to go to.

"You don't...you don't have to go back." She quietly suggests.

He just shakes his head. He doesn't have an explanation or an argument, just a feeling of inevitability. He can't just leave. It's where he belongs now. But...

"Why aren't you dead?" he asks.

Di just gives a small huff at that.

"I've asked myself the same thing many times. I suppose the only one who could really answer that was the Executor who let me go. But I'm here and just trying to do the best that I can do."

He seems so distant, like words only barely make it through to him. He starts trying to get up.

"I...I was dead. No one believes me when I say that."

It was a little hard to follow his train of thought. He seemed to be jumping all over the place and it was a little disconcerting and difficult to keep up. She did her best though.

"Bringing people back from the dead...it seems like something impossible. It's reasonable for people to think that. But just because they don't believe you doesn't mean it isn't true."

She holds her arms out uncertainly, as if she half expects him to fall.

He looks at her critically - part of him is annoyed at her trying to placate him like that, but part of him just wants to keep pushing.

"Do you believe it?" he asks, and her answer is obviously important to him.

She holds his gaze, but only for a moment before looking down, giving his question heavy consideration. How many times has she gone back and forth now? It's more frustrating than she can put into words.

"I do," she admitted reluctantly at last, "but when you aren't around I'm trying to convinced myself otherwise. I have little proof, I don't even know how it's possible but." She raised her gaze to him.

"When I see you, I do."

He brow creases with frustration at the answer, and some kind of pain. He pulls away from her to the other side of the couch, like a cornered animal.

"What else would I be? How else would I be here like this?" The words are rapid fire and emotional. "What do you think I am?"

She pursed her lips, looking away and wrapping her arms around herself.

"I told you that I do believe you, what exactly is it that you are trying to answer? I don't want to believe that you now mean to kill Karkat, and to kill me. I don't want to believe that now you're working for that witch, and mean to murder other people regardless of who or what they are. Even if I can see why you would it just. It." She trailed off and then gave a shake off her head, holding back a frustrated noise of her own. How was it that he could be so antithetical to who he once was?

"But how exactly am I supposed to convince the Sufferists of this? I know that you are Signless because I feel like you are? That's not going to convince anyone." And it shouldn't convince her.

She knew she wasn't giving Signless what he was looking for, but she was ever an honest person.

"Look. If you are trying to figure this out for yourself, there is a very obvious solution."

"No there isn't," he snaps, biting his fangs at her, a long trilling growl resonating in his throat. "Don't you matronize me. Don't you dare speak as if you know. You don't understand this. You don't understand anything!"

Why was it that she could never say things right? Di had to be honest. She knew coddling him and only giving half of her answer--that she did believe him--would lead to potential problems for him farther down the road if she did not point out how very legitimate the reservations of others were. When he was forced to confront that fact, what then? Back to square one.

And now this. Was she matronizing him? Maybe she was, but she still stood by what she said. Di got to her feet and turned away. She'd get them, she'd show him, and if nothing came of that?

Well, she didn't know what she could possibly do to help him figure this out.

"I'll be back." She murmured, just barely audible.

He gives her a cautious look as she leaves, like he doesn't really trust her intentions. He decides against just leaving, though. Instead, he grabs something he's been keeping in his boot and holds it tightly between his hands, focusing on it instead of everything else.

When she returns she's got a big box in her arms. She moves past him, and towards the wall opposite the couch where she sets it down without a word. She had been working hard on them, and largely for this very purpose--to show him, to see if it reminded him of a better time, to see if it reminded him at all.

The first painting she pulls out is a simple one that even a non Alternian might recognize. The sky with both its moons and stars, giving off a warm pink and green glow. The rest, however, are ones that only someone who was there would really know. A village they had once visited, when it was just the two of them traveling, a painting of the first highblood that believed in their teachings and helped them contrasted against a lowblood who once tried to turn them in. A glade where the two of them and Psionic had spent the day talking beneath the shade of their tent. Two or three more poignant images.

She hadn't been expecting to run into him so soon, so there aren't that many. Once she has propped them all up against the wall she turns to him.

He regards her with obvious suspicion when she starts taking things out of the box, and then for a moment after he sees that it's paintings, and expressionlike resentment crosses his face. He doesn't understand the point of the Alternian sky, even if he hasn't seen it since he died. And any memory of the village is faint and blurred.

It's the image of the two trolls that first stirs something major, and it's obvious from the expression on his face - the way that his gaze focuses. He glances at her, his brow furrowed and questioning, then back again at some of the others. The object still between his hands, he clenches it more tightly between his fingers.

"What are you trying to accomplish?" he asks quietly.

She's so focused on his expression, that she still does not notice the object he is holding so tightly. The way it changes when he takes in the image of the two trolls is telling and it's the first time she feels like she has something even slightly solid to back up her belief that this truly is Signless.

"To remind you of life before," a life that despite its short end and trials, was better than the one he had now, "and to hopefully make things clearer for the both of us."

It was only then that she lowered her gaze and her eyes fell on the object in his hand. He hadn't been holding on to that before. Her brow furrowed, but she let her question hang in the air.

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