[PRP] Broken Wings (Odette, Tamiya, Sinter) [fin!]

[zeflamigo]

Odette rose from the recuperacoon, wiping the slime off her face and rubbing at her eyes. Her head throbbed in pain and she raised her hand to her forehead to nurse it. Her palm felt the sensation of a strange, rough cloth… bandages? She pursed her lips, confused. Oh, that's right, she thought, she had been hurt in the battle. She was protecting Kei— and she had fainted. Odette frowned. She failed to protect her. She didn't keep her promise. But the fact that she was alive was proof enough that they had defeated Aendal. She hadn’t failed completely. The wave of sadness that washed over Odette dissipated, but the sensation lingered.

Something didn’t feel right. Odette touched her waist, where she had been dealt one of the nastier blows. The bandage was slimy from the recuperacoon but not particularly bloody. The wound must have closed, meaning that she had been out for a while, and someone had changed the bandage. But why would Vremea bother with bandages when she could heal the wound altogether?

Odette opened her eyes and scanned around. Where were Milieu and Keionx? More importantly, where was Vremea? She had assumed Vremea had taken her back to her hive. But this wasn’t her hive. Not at all. The red accents hinted at something completely different. Perhaps it was Keionx’s?

No, Kei’s blood was much more orange. It couldn’t be her hive. She frowned and her breathing increased as she started to panic. Just where was she? She was terrified. It was one thing to be killed valiantly in battle, but it was entirely different to be culled in the hive of some random psychopath. She looked wildly around for a clue of some kind. There had to be something...

Sypon

 

[Sypon]

Sinter had, of course, redecorated when Tamiya had moved out, but being the excellent host that he was there was always room for company. But this was not a typical situation. Remnants from last night’s trek still remained in the entrance to Sinter’s hive. Faint smears of purple and red were mottled on the floorboards – smudged on the doorways. If one hadn’t known better, it looked like someone had died in the front the proper redblood’s hive. His respiteblock (Odette’s current residence) was free of most of the violent clutter. Tasteful bric a brac and the warmth of the hive nearly washed out the events that had transpired just out the door.

But elsewhere, the mess was obvious. In the middle of it all, Tamiya slept on the couch – her face covered with a sopor soaked rag, courtesy of her lusus. It had since fallen off, but with the threat of day gone it had served its purpose. Even Kabukidad had stayed inside, choosing to fast and watch over his child should she perish in the night. Kabukidad stayed guard, curled up on the floor throughout the night, but had since returned to the barn.

Tamiya had barely made it back. She dressed Odette’s wounds, passing out on one brief occasion, and then attempted to attend to herself with little avail. It was through some impressive last-effort feat of strength that Tamiya deposited Odette into Sinter’s recuperacoon before she stumbled off to pass out in her ravaged and bloodied clothes. She was haggard and ashen, even without her pale make-up to hide her face. It was unusual for the sharp-featured Tamiya to look weak, but now she took the appearance of a broken-down marionette. She was exposed. She fought off the pain in her dreams as the sopor wore off, occasionally whimpering through her nightmares.  

[zeflamigo]

The whimpering caught Odette's attention before the sight of Tamiya. She had assumed the sound came from some small lusus of sorts, or perhaps one of those gerbils that Vremea liked so much. But no, when she approached the couch, she encountered the last thing she wanted to see. At first, she was doubtful of the troll's identity. Without the make-up, Tamiya looked smaller and weaker, even with her gaunt features. It was a hard feeling to describe, but she felt less threatening than she did as a child. Though, she was a child then too, she supposed, on the fateful day she lost her mother. Odette trembled. The day she took her away from me.

Her hand lingered over Tamiya's neck. Killing her right there would be easy. She could make it look like it was an accident. She could steal the breath out of her and make her escape, and make it look like she was never there. It would be simple. It should be simple, she thought. But, in reality, Odette wanted a fight. If she was going to kill another troll, she'd have to justify it. This didn't feel justified. The Tamiya she saw now... she looked so innocent, so pitiable that it didn't seem fair.

Retracting her hand, Odette let out a breath of air she didn't know she was holding in. Her body shook, fingers curling into fists. She kicked at the ground and grunted, disgusted with herself. What was wrong with her? Why was she cursed with being so... so weak? What made her so squeamish and frightened? Other trolls killed so easily, for their ideals, even for their own pleasure. What made her any different?

Odette hung her head. She wasn't like those trolls. But for a moment, she wished she was. If only she cared less, things would be easier. Always so preoccupied with helping others and working for the greater good. Killing Aendal, at least the second time, was for the greater good, wasn't it? Was killing Tamiya going to help the greater good? Would it protect others from her fate? From Swanmom's fate?

She reached her hand out above Tamiya once more. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, but she choked them back. She inhaled sharply through clenched teeth, trying desperately to steady her trembling hand. She thought of Swanmom for strength, but somehow it only made her feel weaker and more useless. All it took was another whimper from Tamiya and Odette crumbled to the floor. She covered her face with her hands, sobbing loudly into them. She was weak, and she was useless. She was an embarrassment to society and her lusus.  

[seekingCylem]

[ Sinter was practically crawling by the time he’d made it back to his hive. Even with the elevators and carefully-planned city structure of Chittentown, his hive was at the top of the canyon, and the party had been near the bottom. Having been awake for two nights hadn’t made the journey any easier, either. Sinter’s stride wobbled as rock gave way to soft sand.

His hive was clearly visible in the distance, however, and that gave Sinter the second, third, fourth wind to push himself the final stretch down the road.

As desperate as Sinter was to fall headfirst into his recuperacoon, Sinter veered off the front walkway at the last moment to head towards the barn. He needed to make sure Lophie was okay, and let her know he was okay himself. He also needed to apologize. Lophie’s grasp on the trollish language was mediocre at best, but it was more for Sinter’s sake than hers. He needed to hear himself say, out loud, that he’d try hard—be better. He’d be a stronger troll, for both of them, and Tamiya too.

Sinter pushed open the barn door (or more accurately, fell against it). A streak of moonlight illuminated the space. Lophie was easy to spot in the spacious interior, half-buried at the barn’s center. The thicket of antlers across her back waved gently as she breathed, much to Sinter’s relief. Her lure glowed weakly and plant matter, what hadn’t been scorched off, was knotted up throughout her antlers. To Sinter’s infinite gratitude, the bruises and scrapes across Lophie’s hide appeared minimal, relative to the strife he’d heard go on deep within the caves.

Lophie snorted sand away from her nostrils and blinked her eyes individually. Sinter, broken from his trance, ran up to his lusus and threw himself against her nose. Lophie grunted in surprise and pain, but made no motion to throw Sinter off. Her lure flickered brighter before dulling once again into a gentle glow. Sinter embraced Lophie as far as his arms could reach and then quickly set about pulling vines and leaves out of Lophie’s antlers.

Sinter cleared most of the debris from Lophie, making promises to properly bathe her and give her snacks all the while. It wasn’t until Sinter had calmed down some that he noticed the familiar feeling of being watched.

Sinter cast a suspicious glance up at the rafters of the barn. If he couldn’t see anything, it was likely because Kabukidad didn’t want to be seen. Sinter wasn’t about to argue with the lusus. For once his presence was comforting. It meant Tamiya was nearby. Sinter would tend to her next. Giving Lophie one last scratch behind the eye and a polite nod towards the rafters, Sinter scurried back to his hive.


Sinter opened the front door to his hive and stumbled into the entry hall. He didn’t bother to sit down and remove his shoes properly. He knew if he sat down, he’d more than likely be unable to get back up again. As he braced himself against the wall to yank off a boot, Sinter put his hand in something sticky.

Sinter recoiled immediately. There was a purple smudge on the wall, and now on Sinter’s palm. Sinter felt his lungs cool as he turned his attention down the hall. More smudges. Picture frames askew where someone had bumped into them. Tamiya.

Sinter made to run down the hall, but ended in a false start at the sound of sobbing coming from his left—the sittingblock. Mind in a pale panic, Sinter swung around the corner towards the source of the sound.

Again, Sinter was startled out of his run. There was a woman crying in his hive, but not the one he would have expected. Sinter’s mind whirled as he struggled to remember where he’d seen this person before. Before he could register her face, he took note of the person she was crying before.

“T-Tamiya! Tamiya-“

Sinter ran to the couch, throwing himself beside the other redblood in the process, as he took stock of Tamiya. Her clothes were ruined, hair a mess, and makeup completely gone—replaced with streaks of dried sopor. She was breathing, at least, albeit weakly.

Sinter turned quickly towards the other woman, expression frantic. “Wha- What happened!?” This other woman… Her name was on the tip of Sinter’s tongue. He remembered her from the Fluid Redistribution Station. Tamiya’s friend. She was clearly in a bad state, but not to the degree of Tamiya. Had she brought his moirail back from the caves?

“P-Please! There’s a first-aid kit under the sink in the ablutionblock. Also a washbasin and some towels. P… Please…” Sinter’s voice cracked. ]

 

[Sypon]

Odette was crying. Visions of carnage were interrupted with the beautiful, doll-like face of one Odette Cygnet. Her lusus, crumpled on the ground and then gone. A white light. Tamiya saw the back of her eyelids but was unable to open them, as throbbing pain bubbled to the surface of her consciousness. Just now, coming to was as much a nightmare as her dreams. The peal of sobbing and suddenly frantic yelling scrambled up her thoughts. Every muscle clenched. She twitched and her eyes fluttered open, immediately regretting a gasping breath. She could hardly breathe without shooting pains outlining each plant lash and burn across her body. Hardly able to see with bleary vision, Tamiya saw two red streaks in front of her.

The immediate sign of their blood color… Sinter and Odette. Their flush couldn’t be mistaken. She wanted to pray, to speak, to allow her saviors to come into focus to allow for her to examine them more clearly. Or at least, if she were to lose consciousness again, have a last flashbulb image of their faces in her mind. Two redbloods… The lowest of the low. They were more dutiful than any troll she knew. More pure; of course they would be here for her. Praise them. She glowed with wry happiness, not realizing that of course both would be present - she'd rescued Odette and brought her to Sinter's domicile.

“Sinter...!” Tamiya sputtered. She aimed to move an arm to clear some of the sopor from her face, but cringed and stopped halfway there. The physical exhaustion from hauling Odette from the caverns was staggering. She was quickly becoming entrenched in the reality around her. As Tamiya tried to move around, it occurred to her that the extent of her wounds were severe. It was any wonder that she had brought Odette here in her condition. Neither of them should have made it.

But… Odette was up and about. Yesterday she was nearly gone. Something last night must have healed her. Tamiya foggily thought back. There was a glow from the cave. A miracle. Tamiya’s care. Yes: it was meant to be. She was satisfied.

Tamiya winced and closed her eyes, seeing stars and colorful patterns behind her lids. An equally colorful string of curse words filtered through her thinkpan.  

[zeflamigo]

Almost instinctively, Odette obeyed Sinter’s orders. She rushed off to find the redblood’s ablutionblock, not looking at the scene behind her. Running into the room, she moved to the sink and checked the contents of the cabinets below it. She grabbed the first-aid kit and felt a twinge of joy, standing up to leave the room. But in noticing her reflection in the sink’s mirror, she stopped.

She looked exhausted. Her face was totally flushed, her hair was an utter mess, and dried tears covered her cheeks. What was she doing? Here in a stranger’s ablutionblock, helping a troll that, moments ago, she was desperately trying to kill? Her own instincts were betraying her. The same instincts that told her to be polite, to listen to orders— they had overtaken her. She wasn’t in control of her own will. She was weak, she was tired, and most importantly, she was fed up.

Everything she had been taught— be little, stay hidden, don’t pick fights— what good did it do? These were the same instincts that stopped her from saving her mother, the same thoughts that made her run away. Odette’s face crinkled at the thought and she grabbed the edges of the sink, tightening her grip. The wind picked up, spinning around her head. She ignored it. She was tired of hiding, tired of running away. She wanted to be able to speak her mind. She wanted to fight.

She grabbed the first aid kit and held it above her head, her nails digging into the case. The wind spun faster, closer. Bottles, soaps, even framed pictures were picked up, knocking into the walls and making a mess. The tub curtain jingled angrily, rings being pulled so hard they were snapping away from the fabric. Odette ignored it all, entirely focused in her own reflection.

Those lessons… she learned them to keep herself safe, right? Odette shook off the thought. It didn’t matter. It was stupid. She didn’t care about keeping herself safe. There were more important things. She had others to guard, friends to protect. What did it matter if she was safe, if she lost all of her friends? If she couldn’t protect Milieu, Athene…

Vremea.

The air went dead. Everything fell and Odette dropped her arms, looking at the first aid kit in her hands. She rushed back out the door, over to Sinter and Tamiya.

“Where is my moirail?” Odette shouted at them, desperation making her voice hitch. Tears streamed down her face as she paused for a response. “Vremea Everai,” she shouted again, getting impatient. “Yellowblood. Bows.” She desperately mimicked the location of the bows on Vremea’s head. Her hands shook, and she could feel the wind kicking up around her once more. She tried to subdue it, but to no avail. Her thoughts were racing with worry, and her worry was quickly turning into terror. Where was Vremea? Where were the others? Why hadn’t Vremea been the one to save her? What happened to her? She held the first-aid kit close. She wasn’t going to give it away without getting her answers first.

seekingCylem

Sypon

 

[seekingCylem]

[ Odette ran off and Sinter set upon Tamiya. He did his best to check over her injuries and peel back her clothing with minimal manhandling. It was an effort that proved difficult with Sinter’s shaking hands.

Tamiya gasped and wheezed Sinter’s name and he jolted in both fear and relief. He carefully made sure her arm was placed back at her side. As nice as it was to see she was still able to regain consciousness, it would do neither of them any good if she was moving around.

Sinter made gentle shushing noises. If anything was going to go right that night, at least Tamiya’s clothing was easy to pull away. Stained, sloppily-applied bandages indicated to Sinter the worst of the lacerations, though the dark bruises on her torso were especially worrying. He could clean and stitch a cut, but internal injuries were beyond his skill level. He took a deep breath and told himself Tamiya was made of tougher stuff than he was giving her credit for.

Sinter heard crashing from down the hall, reminding him of Odette’s presence in his hive. Clearly everyone was in a bad state. Sinter cursed himself for taking so long to come home.

The din continued longer than Sinter had anticipated, especially considering how well-organized his ablutionblock was. Something was amiss. It felt like the air pressure had dropped in the sittingblock, or perhaps it was merely the metaphorical atmosphere that was sending chills up Sinter’s spine.

Odette returned before Sinter had the presence of mind to check on her. Her sudden aggression caused Sinter to stumble to his feet. He was no longer sure which woman was in a more critical state. The ethereal wind picked up with Odette’s presence, enough for Sinter to associate the two with one another.

Still, Sinter needed that first-aid kid. He looked to Tamiya behind him, checking for consciousness, and then back to Odette. “I- I’m sorry! I don’t know who that is!” He floundered, frightened and confused. He hadn’t expected that at all. He hadn’t expected any of this. “Pl- Please. Calm down and let me attend to Tamiya—let me make sure she’ll be alright. We can talk this out—we can find your moirail then.” Sinter felt himself on the cusp of rambling—of begging. He had no proper way to make the direness of his situation anymore apparent. His moirail was right there, lying on the couch, possibly bleeding to death.

The thought, as terrifying as it was simple, struck a chord in Sinter. His eyes narrowed. Posture straight and resolute, he stretched an arm out towards Odette. “Give. Me. The kit.” ]

 

[zeflamigo]

"Of course you don't know," Odette spat, stepping closer with deliberation. Her eyes narrowed in on the rambling redblood. She stopped just close enough to breach his personal space, and leaned in. "You don't know anything outside of what she chooses to feed you," She hissed through clenched teeth, keeping her tone hushed.

Odette shoved the first aid kit into his hands and turned, walking a few steps away from the pair. She straightened her posture and spun back to look at Sinter. "You might be clueless," She said with deliberation. "But I guarantee you that she—" She pointed to Tamiya, "knows more. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here right now." Odette strode over to a chair and collapsed in it, massaging her head. The wind had ceased, leaving a massive headache in its wake.  

[seekingCylem]

[ Sinter’s expression couldn’t be sterner. This woman was a fair amount shorter than him—a fact emphasized by her proximity—but she was clearly dangerous. The psionic wind had little to do with it. She was a genuinely intimidating mix of terrified and angry on a level Sinter couldn’t begin to comprehend. He at least knew where his moirail was. However, Odette’s fury wasn’t caused by concern alone.

Sinter flinched at the impact of the first-aid kit, but held fast lest Odette change her mind. Sinter found her behavior erratic and words confusing. Worry had been etched into his features since he’d first walked in the door. Still, he had his priorities.

He swallowed thickly, the act of which pressed his lips into a thin line, and did his best to push away Odette’s ominous words. “I don’t know you. I’d never heard of you until just the other day at the station. Of course Tamiya is keeping things from me. However, if you think for one second that your presence is going to prevent me from administering first-aid to my moirail…" Sinter's face twisted. "Tch. God, why am I even talking to you.”

Sinter turned sharply, shaking with rage. He was mad at Odette; he was mad at himself. A part of him, small and petty though it might have been, was mad at Tamiya. However, Tamiya needed him, which was enough to keep Sinter steeled on his task at hand. Interrogating Odette at that moment would have only hurt them all.

Odette, obviously, hadn’t brought the water or towels he’d requested, and Sinter wasn’t about to ask her for anything else. Knelt beside Tamiya, Sinter swabbed the wounds with antiseptic. The gauze shook in his hands and his teeth threatened to punch holes through his lip. Still, Sinter adamantly ignored Odette, choosing instead to focus all of his attention on Tamiya, both out of concern for his moirail, and spite for Odette. ]

 

[Sypon]

Her moirail... The yellowblood. Where was she? Tamiya was out of sorts, but if nothing else she was cognizant of the question. It stuck out in her mind. Everything after the battle had been a blur. She sought to remember what had happened before gathering up Odette, and soon realized what was wrong. The yellowblood who she'd seen at the WACKY. That was her moirail? Fate. Tamiya's blood pusher dropped, and she wheezed a small reply.

Tamiya stirred as Sinter applied his skills to her wounds. His touch felt like cold chills, padding damp stings on top of her heated wounds. She hissed as he made contact, wincing into clear consciousness. The room came into focus -- she blinked rapidly to clear her head of swirling visions and flicked rapidly back and forth between Sinter and Odette.

"O-odette..." Tamiya called. She clenched her abdomen to allow her to sit up and grunted, breaths stale and painful. In a moment, she collapsed back onto the couch. "********..." Tamiya cursed and squeezed her eyes shut. She snarled. Religious rage sparked back in the pit of her bile sack, giving her strength. Her eyebrows twitched; another breath. Tamiya's eyes snapped back open and she looked to the petite redblood.

"I found you... In the cave-in..." She managed. The yellowblood was like a broken doll - elegantly dressed and put together in appearance, but so still. She went over the memory with a painful sigh and urged herself to continue. "Your moirail was nearby, on the ground. Most likely, dead. The ceiling was falling in. I only had time... Energy... To get you out,"

The two were fighting. Sinter and Odette, her friends... There was no reason for this. They had done nothing wrong, nothing to harm eachother or herself. Their fury was understandable, but Tamiya could ease their pain and make things right. It was her responsibility.  

[zeflamigo]

The news hit Odette hard, knocking the breath out of her. She stayed silent, trying to process Tamiya's words. It felt as if something was choking her— keeping her from speaking out. She bit her lip and stared at her knees, not sure how to react. Vremea couldn't be dead. She couldn't be. And Odette refused to believe that it was her own fault.

"I don't— I don't believe you!" Odette cried. She clutched the seat of her chair, trying desperately to keep herself from crying. It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be her fault. "There were others! Milieu, Athene, they never would have left without her!" She shouted. And they wouldn't have left without me, she thought. She could feel the heat rising in her face as she spoke, voice cracking in confused distress.

"Keionx, the little one! You saw me with her before, where is she? What happened to her?" She said, shouting louder. She had sworn to protect the little one, but in the end she couldn't keep her promise. She knew her friends were capable of taking care of her, but what if something had happened to them? Tamiya's story wasn't lining up, and as much as it frustrated Odette, it worried her as well.

She reached for one of the chair's decorative pillows, and hugged it close, hoisting her knees up into a defensive curl. It wasn't true, she told herself. They weren't dead, and it wasn't her fault, she kept repeating, but another equally loud voice reminded her of her promise. The one she had broken. She had failed them There was the possibility they were all dead, all because she wasn't there to keep her word. She sobbed into the pillow and let out a loud, ugly cry.

She looked up from her crying and stared at Tamiya with desperation in her eyes. "I was supposed to protect them!" she shouted. "I was supposed to be there! I promised them! And now..." Odette said, face twisting back into crying. "Now they're probably dead! All of them! And it's my fault."

Odette looked away from the pair and fell silent for a moment. Her fingers traced the lace of Sinter's pillow. "You shouldn't have wasted your energy," She said solemnly, "There was no reason to save me."  

[Sypon]

Tamiya looked at Odette with pity. She bit her lip, wincing after a painful twinge from Sinter. Poor girl. "I did not see anyone else around when I found you and your moirail," she explained. Her eyes rested on the girl, weak and with a glimmer of apology. She sighed cleared her throat. Odette couldn't save everyone. Such would be hubris. Tamiya breathed out with purpose, and rose again, shuddering.

"You were not responsible for that ******** monster in the caverns. You did not cause their deaths, if they are truly deceased as you say." She propped herself up on her elbow and frowned, bracing herself against the back of the couch. "You are still here for a reason. The fact that you and I are both here now... It was meant to be."

Tamiya looked between Odette and Sinter. She felt warm. It helped to distract from her state.  

[zeflamigo]

"Not responsible?" Odette couldn't help but laugh through her sobs, "You act like you know everything about me." Her laughs quieted and she looked down at the pillow again, falling dangerously silent. How could she have forgotten? Dozens of other lives— drones, kids, lusii— their blood was on her hands too. How was she going to forgive herself for the destruction that she had caused? How could she even begin to explain such a thing to someone who was a wriggler when all of this had started?

She couldn't. Not with Tamiya. The idea of her understanding was a laughable one.

Tamiya's words made Odette's bile sack twist, sending a feeling of dread throughout her core. The purpleblood was increasingly fascinated with her, wasn't she? Odette felt trapped. More than anything she wanted to leave, and she never wanted to see the girl again. "The only reason I am here now is because you brought me here," Odette rose, anger tinting her cheeks. "And frankly," she added, "I'd have been much happier if you had let me be." Her words were distinct and uncaring. At this point she had no regard for trying to be clever or concerned for Tamiya. She was tired and fed up with playing games.  

[Sypon]

Tamiya did know. Odette just didn't realize it. She was too bitter -- her loss was too great. Now was not the time for her to comprehend anything; mourning was her priority. This was respectable. The poor girl had lost so much, and surely Tamiya had contributed to that in order for her to live freely. Her intentions were pure, so how could this be? Misfortune befell all trolls.

She was nearly at a loss. There was not enough pity in the solar system that could describe Tamiya's outpourings towards Odette. She was rebuffed, but perhaps... Perhaps she was just mourning. Tamiya felt hot tears spring into her eyes as she sat up straighter on the couch. Odette began to speak once more. Her tone turned sour.

"I'd have been much happier if you had let me be."

Tamiya choked. The gall. She would have been sick if she had any sustenance left, and the mere idea released a desperate cry from Tamiya's protein chute. She heaved and wrenched herself from a reclined position. "You do not know what you are saying," she pleaded. Tamiya stumbled towards her, confused and deranged. "That is a lie!" Tamiya's wounds oozed. She howled. Her hands twitched and hung on her arms, her hair matted long over her features. She reached out towards Odette, looming.

She had so much fear. Tamiya had never been wrong before. She was right. She was right. She was protecting her from horrors -- and death... Death was better than her sanctuary? She saved her from fate twice. Her chest felt like it could have burst her ribs open. Why didn't she care? Gog damnit, why didn't Odette understand? Tamiya shuddered and quaked, and soon she was ******** b***h! My soul empties for you, and you repay me with ******** wishes of death? You temptress, you harlot of ground, you slickstained fodder of leaves and consumption of rot! There is no joy in joining the ranks of sun's goddamned fertilizer, wasting without want of Paradise. I have saved you twice and for the rest of my life I commit myself to you as you have consumed yourself with false desires..." She shuddered and collapsed, digging her nails into the carpet. Her eyes were bloodshot.

Fearful visions of carnage and violence danced in her vision. The axe would fall.... She would bring the world to its place, for the love of the Dark Carnival. This was not rejection; this was the spurning of everything. Overwhelmed, Tamiya fell to her knees and the stifled pain re-emerged. She sobbed and clutched at her temples, hiding behind a curtain of hair.  

[zeflamigo]

Tamiya rose from the couch, terror filled Odette. She moved to run, but before she knew it the purpleblood had gripped her arms like a vice. She flinched, but she didn't fight the girl, horrified of her presence in close proximity. The girl screamed at her, assigning Odette profanities that she didn't even know the definition of. But the ringing in her ears made it clear that Tamiya was furious, and despite everything, Odette felt horrible for it. She cried harder with every passing syllable, to the point where she would have been shaking herself had Tamiya not already been assisting with that. "I'm sorry..." she muttered repeatedly, begging for Tamiya to stop. Her knees felt weak, and sure enough when Tamiya collapsed, she fell with her.

She took a moment to calm her beating blood-pusher, and looked back at Tamiya. Though she was terrified, she pulled back Tamiya's hair from her face and stared right for her bloodshot eyes. If she could see the pain in her, see it in her eyes, maybe, just maybe the purpleblood would understand. "I'd rather be dead among them than live with their blood on my hands." Odette explained shakily, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice was getting raspy, out of distress and exhaust. "You don't understand. Children, lusii— they're dead because of me. I can't bear that kind of guilt," She said, hoping that her words were making sense. But then she remembered who she was dealing with, and her face twisted with an entirely different look of pain.

"You couldn't understand."