. (siri) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-08-30 08:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, hippolyta flynn, siri d'albis |
Who: Flynn & Siri
What: Crazytrain.
Where: The Mage Tower
When: 25/08 (backdated)
Rating: PG-13 for imagery and language.
Status: Complete
In the aftermath of the previous Sage's attack on the Tower, parts of the structure had been heavily damaged, still in the process of being completely repaired. The reconstruction was going well, it seemed, at least at a glance, but as it was within one's nature to be drawn toward the site of an accident, the call of destruction was just as difficult to ignore. Damage was always more fascinating upclose. Curiosity alone drew Flynn up to the floors under reconstruction, now vacant while the workers took the evening off as the light faded in the sky and the working conditions became harder in artificial light alone. They typically weren't available for perusal, certainly not in the off hours, but what did it matter as long as she didn't touch anything or step too close to uneven flooring? A lantern remained untouched in the center of the room, casting shadows this way and that, setting everything aglow in a way that was― unsettling. The redhead slowly kneeled in front of it, figuring it would be easier to shake the chills that ran down her arms and neck if she was closest to the light source. Yeah, big fucking help it was. Residual phantoms clustered around the leftover stone, mold cracking stone with its damp roots and Siri tottered precariously close to uneven floor. Dancing on the tip of her toes, as she had danced on snow-covered rooftops in white gloves and cloak; except tonight it was not dancing so much as shaking off these stirrs of death. They hit close to her, whispering (screaming) (deafening). Flynn was not a tangible figure for her, more like a wisp of fire and her red hair crackled beneath the light of the lantern. Inside this place the touch of an Esper lingered too, familiar as the Other inside Theo but unwelcoming. Siri tilted her head, watched the living flame curl closer to the light and spoke, “Gallows have light like this, you know?” The sudden voice startled Flynn, who had been too focused on the luminosity of the lantern to notice how the shadows had shifted and danced to indicate another presence in the room. She whipped her head around toward the source, pure darkness assailing her from all angles as she squinted to get a better view. That voice― was it? "Siri?" And what the hell do you mean, gallows? “Fire.” Siri replied brightly, the name of her fellow mage forgotten in favour of the element now associated with her in the madgirl’s mind. Rather than plunging into light, her path followed the edges, “If people had their way we would all be in the gallows, like rotten fruit on the ground — they won’t come. They’re not looking for you, they’re going to send some to hang dry and then it will be me — I will never met them.” A nonsensical tirade that was difficult to pick apart and make sense of, Siri stirred and shuddered; more wood and metal (puppet) than flesh and bone(girl). “He gave one eye up for wisdom, traded for it without knowing what he did and then there is a serpent that coils around the world. It bites its own tail and remains — holds it.” An anchor was missing. It might have been at Flynn's feet, keeping her rooted in place and unable (unwilling) to move anything but her eyes. With the other woman at the edge of the light, she was nearly encased in shadow, the words seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere while her face was only partly lit. The gravity of her speech didn't weigh on her, not just yet. Most of what came out of Siri's mouth sounded like nonsense; there was no point it trying to dissect it for meaning. But at the mention of a man giving up an eye, her thoughts shifted to Wolfe. She didn't mean Wolfe, did she? The redhead swallowed, mustering up the only response she could. "That, uh― that would be a big snake." Crescent shaped, a smile too long and thin to be truthfully content, “The time is running out. It is all in my head but it does not fit. Will you listen?” Not really giving Flynn much of a choice as she went on, plunging into her madness. “Can’t think, but they’ll come for me one day. Soon. I have seen it, the bones break — wooden splinters will not fix them. Then you drown but they bring you back by breaking your ribs and pressing your heart. I’ve seen it. It will come to pass.” The woman began pacing up and down rather than in a circular shape around the light, her voice rising steadily as hysteria took over, “It is all wrong, wrong — have you ever kissed someone under water? Burn your feet in the desert sand. They burn truth because they won’t hear it. I know.” The more Siri spoke, the less Flynn understood. The finality of the words, the implications, the rise in her voice― they were alarming in ways that she couldn't explain, apart from what her body told her. Goosebumps rose up along her arms, a chill taking over. Fear. It was fear, not some wayward breeze. So often had she taken the other mage's warnings with a grain of salt, but now? Now they sounded like promises. Of things that really would come to pass. Had she ever been alone with Siri in a room? Were these only the ramblings of the slightly strange, or a true, deranged madwoman? Suddenly, she wished she'd brought her scythe. If push came to shove― if Siri's hysteria became physical― Flynn pushed up onto shaky legs, following the other's pacing with suspicious eyes. "Are you― are you telling me you're going to drown?" Her voice shook. Faram damnit. Siri covered her face, trying to stifle the hysteria and laughter that rose from deep inside; a second phantom inside her crawling out (there had been pain here, so much and the outrage of premature death — no one wanted to die). “You have stepped on the wrong place tonight, little fire. They don’t want us here, they do not want this fixed, it forgets their pain and they drown — drown — the church bells are ringing, they—” Where was a wolf? Jaws and muscle, ready to clamp down (limb to limb) and swallow. “Go away.” The smaller girl paused. Did Siri mean her, or something, someone else? The thought that she might've been speaking to anyone outside of her was unnerving, and without meaning to, she took a step back. That anyone, especially the council, didn't want to repair the Tower made no sense― otherwise, wouldn't they have abandoned the effort? No, it was a sign of weakness, a reminder of betrayal and pain. Another step back, and then her heel hit a wrench, sending it skittering into the shadows. Metal and stone, a cacophony that set off alarm bells in her mind (screaming—) (—loud). “Something stepped here that shouldn’t have. Parted the ground — go away. Is this in my head? It isn’t very far, sleeping and waiting. We should burn this down.” Mana curled around the edges of her self(a four arm beast would say fire cleanses all). “Is this in my head? I shouldn’t be here, where is Rictor? Cas? Theo?” We should burn this down reverberated in Flynn's head. If that wasn't a warning bell, she didn't know what was, especially once she sensed the mana. Siri was off-kilter and all too fluent in bizarre, but she, for the most part, had seemed harmless. Hearing these words now, though, while sectioned off from the rest of the Tower, brought real concern. And if she left, what was to stop Siri was burning the floor down on her own? What if she hurt herself or others? Or was she more bark than bite, spouting madness but never intending to act? It wasn't Flynn's call to make; she could only act as her gut directed her. She sucked in a breath. "I don't know where they are," she admitted, speaking softly as if addressing a wild, feral animal, "but, uh, why don't you look for them tomorrow? And you know, neither of us should really be here, so I'm thinking, sleep now, think later?" Regressing into the sullenness of a child, Siri shook her head. “No, no, it cannot wait until tomorrow. It must be now. Tomorrow is too late, time is lost again. Time.” She stared at Flynn but not really, looking past the woman as if she were not even in the room. Another of its many ghosts that rattled the edges of her mind, pulling strings of already frayed edges. She stopped, realization sinking in, “I’m not sleeping?” It was a strange question, and it showed in Flynn's face as she knit her brows together, somewhat incredulous. "Unless you're really good at sleepwalking and sleeptalking, no, you seem awake to me." She paused, rearranging the words when she spoke again. "This isn't a dream." And if it was, it'd be halfway to a nightmare. Desire rose to scream down the foundations of this tower, Siri swallowed the thick, choking knot in her throat and shook her head. She wouldn’t cry, it happened at times, someone(she) got confused and sleep became reality. Reality but a waking dream. She lowered her hand, shook her head as if to remove the sleep-dust covering her eyelids. “Not a dream.” Her fingers closed on the broken stone, “Not a dream.” Siri slinked back into the darkness, footsteps fading along with her momentary lapse into pure madness. As the other mage disappeared from sight, Flynn remained rooted in place, struck still by her confusion. Had she ever really stopped to wonder about how delusional Siri might've been from the beginning? If she'd been thinking this had been a dream all along, what else had she imagined? It was only when the coast was clear and the footsteps had altogether disappeared that Flynn grabbed for the lantern, scurrying back in the direction she'd originally come with light guiding her this time, but wondering, with every step and stumble, if Siri was still watching from the shadows. |