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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 stilled when at that motion. A gentle touch that seemed to contrast against his expression. What exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean who wouldn't have to be punished anymore? That didn't quite make sense, seeing as how he hadn't gotten rid of her yet. Perhaps he was referring to that--that he wouldn't have to kill her?

She moves her own hands to try and lace her fingers with his.

"I don't want to leave you, Signless. I don't want you to ever have to face something alone, again."

"You're going to leave either way," he says. "Just like the first time."

If she stays with him, she'll die, and if she leaves him she'll be gone. Either way, she won't be there.

That cuts through her like a knife, and guilt and shame bleeds out of her like a noxious fume. Her expression falters and she bows her head, and like so often she finds herself thinking that she shouldn't be here, that she should have died with him, how she wished she had.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't," he rasps, pushing her hand away now and starting to stand. He doesn't look at her, even though his expression is contorted with frustration. He can feel that guilt wash over him, as real as the air he's breathing.

"I've always been alone," he growls quietly. "That hasn't changed."

That hurts almost as much as what he'd just said and she scrambles to stand as well, afraid that he plans to leave.

"Alone? What about Psionic? What about your mother?" And them? What did that mean about what they had had?

"The Signless wasn't a person. He was a symbol. You're alone when no one really knows who you are," he says, refusing to look at her. "The troll you knew never really existed."

"You were more than a symbol, Signless. Certainly there were many people who elevated you and there still are many," If anything more now than ever with the almost religious way some trolls had come to view him, "I was guilty of that myself when we were young, but you were a troll and were a friend to many beyond our family. You were and still are Geshua." She insisted.

He shakes his yeah slowly, his gaze distant and aimless. He touches his bandaged shoulder, but only as a subconscious motion.

"Nothing that you're looking for is still there," he says faintly.

"If there was nothing of the you I knew there, then you would not be so conflicted." Di stubbornly refused to believe that the Signless she knew was a lie. In this moment, why would he be keeping from following orders? Why would he be so confused, lost, and coming here for answers?

"I'm sorry that I made you feel alone before." Di really hoped that that wasn't actually the case, that it was just his confusion speaking. Yet she would take his word, for if there was even an inkling of truth than she wanted make amends for that.

"But you don't have to be alone anymore. I'm here, Signless." She stepped closer and gingerly steadies his chin so she can look him in the eyes. "I'm here, and I want to be with you no matter what, and I want to help you figure out what you need."

Her touch draws his gaze to hers, though is own expression remains hollow. Inwardly, he feels heavy, like those promises carry a physical weight. He doesn't know what she thinks she's doing, talking like that. She's not with him. If she really was, something would feel different. He watches her in silence for a long few moments, though, before reaching up to take her hand and push it away.

It's not clear if it's a rejection. The motion is more gentle than he has been in the past. He looks away like nothing he's seeing right now is real and slowly departs back to the living room. From his pace, it seems less like he's trying to escape and more like something has distracted his attention.

He stares out the window he came in through, his ears flicking upwards in attention. Part of him wants to try to tell her what is worrying him now, but he knows that it will just cause unecessary trouble.

"I'm probably not going to come back," he says, finally. This time, not necessarily of his own choice.

At first she's just saddened when he pushes her away, but that quickly turns to concern and confusion. She trails after him, not calling out and instead focusing on his movements. She watches as he stares out the window, and as his ears perk up as if he is hearing something that she can't. She strains her own, pushing back her hair but picks up nothing.

Her brow furrows as his words sink in.

"What's wrong?"

He just shakes his head slightly, and then looks down. He's not surprised, really. He just lost track of himself for a while and forgot that it was an inevitability.

"I went against orders, before," he says. "To spite her, I guess."

There was a bit of hope with that revelation, but considering his state of being one instance of going against her orders was only so much.

"That's why you're." Her eyes fell to his bandages, hardening.

"What did you do?" Was he referring to not killing her or something else?

"I threw away something she wanted," he says, softly and distantly. "I still hate her, completely. That never changed...but, I never...can win."

Edited 2014-06-18 03:23 (UTC)

Well, that was good. If the Condesce wanted it, then it needed to be kept away from her. Di didn't normally think on such simple terms but her view of their Empress was pretty straightforward.

"In doing that, you did. You went against her," Di spoke, trying to be careful with her wording, "and I'm sure that caught her off guard." Doubtless the Condesce expected Signless to be nothing more than an obedient servant. Di gained some pleasure in imagining her anger--pleasure that quickly faded when she remembered it had been taken out on Signless.

"What was it that she wanted?"

"A weapon. It doesn't really matter," he says, distantly. "They will just..." He trails off. He doesn't really have words for what they will do, but he instinctively fears it. He knows that things have been done to him, and they will be imminently happening again. Some part of him believes that it will be for the best.

Part of him just wants to take the opportunity to let all of this go.

"You don't understand this."

They will just? They will just what? She's becoming increasingly more worried about what he is going to return to.

"I don't but if they are going to hurt you, don't go back, Signless. Even if you can't stay here just. You don't deserve any of that. I know that at least."

He looks at her, though this time some of the bitterness is gone, leaving behind a genuine melancholy.

"It doesn't matter what a person deserves," he says. "There is no justice in this world."

Edited 2014-06-23 14:56 (UTC)

That's even worse than the bitterness and anger he has shown her. She once more breaches the distance between them, reaching a hand to gently cup his cheek.

"Justice. I don't know enough to say whether it exists in this world, but you certainly aren't going to find it up there with her. Not justice, not peace, not happiness, not whatever it is that you need to make up for what has been done to you."

She gently pulled his head down so she could press her forehead to his. "But here we can work together. If you stay, day by day, I know we can find a way to make things clear for you. I won't hurt you like she does, Signless." Di knew she was being pushy, and indeed she had to fight the urge to hold him once again and to kiss him, but she refused to just give up on him because things were difficult.

He growls in his throat without really knowing why, but he doesn't pull away. This feels right and wrong all at the same time, and that contrast fills him with a wordless frustration. He should hate her, he thinks. He should have killed her a long time ago. But he hasn't, and looking at her right now, he doesn't want to.

His tries to think, over and over: what is wrong with him? What's happening? What is he? He can't focus, and he doesn't have the answer to anything. And the longer this goes on, the more he feels like he needs to run.

But she's so close to him right now, and she's promising an end to his pain. Bullshit, part of him says. He put his faith in others before and ended up like this. If she didn't save him before then why would she save him now?

The memory stirs something inside him. Thoughts of when he was alive - when he was someone else, a long time ago. He thinks of them, all of them, and he can barely contain his sorrow.

He leans down and sets his lips against hers.

There is a small start--surprise that he would initiate a kiss but it quickly evaporates and she is kissing him back. The hand on his cheek moves to the back of his neck, and the other threads through his hair. She moves her mouth slowly against his, gently, afraid that one wrong move and he will shut her out again.

It's hard to keep her mind focused on that fact and to keep herself restrained but she manages and nuzzles his face in the way she always used to, finding happiness and comfort in his closeness and unique warmth.

He lingers there for a while, and while he isn't exactly passionate, he isn't quick to pull away. It's more like he's trying to understand the gesture through exposure - to figure out his own motives. He is distant and confused even as he's so close, the touch of her lips inescapably familiar but so out of place.

He slowly pulls away, and the sorrow is still there. It doesn't feel right. He's different now, and he doesn't know how to connect to this, and it makes him feel like his insides have been hollowed out.

He doesn't speak.

It's not like before, and while Di didn't expect it to be, she hadn't quite expected this either. In a way him being put off, or disliking the kiss would have been better than this--than this nothing.

She pulls away the same time that he does feeling, awkward, hurt and ashamed, feeling like she took advantage of his emotionally vulnerable state. She should have known better. She should have kept her distance and not so eagerly pounced on the faintest hint of affection.

"Sorry."

She looks into his face, trying to discern what's going through his head. "Will you try? To not go back. To go somewhere safe instead?" To stay here.

"I don't know," he says, because he doesn't. He has nothing grounding him enough to consciously make a decision like that. He's taken returning to the Empire as an inevitability and it feels like as much of one now as it did before.

"I'll end up there regardless."

"Maybe you won't," she suggested timidly, "if you don't go back on your own. This isn't her domain where she can control and know everything. Earth has been out of her reach, and only grows stronger to counter her advances."

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