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 Posted: Sun Nov 24, 2013 12:39 pm
Who: Anastacia and Cesc
When: November 22nd, 2013; around noon
Where: Anya and Zeke's apartment; Durem
Weather: Partly cloudy and cool
It was a regular fall day outside, cool but not truly cold. The world hustled and bustled on the streets below the apartment - active, largely happy, free of horrors, and everything else Anastacia was not. It was a good day for shopping, one of the last before winter came roaring in, but instead of being amongst the throng the Virus Frei was in her room, floating before her bureau and its blanket-covered mirror. She was trying to arrange her collection of assorted shells and prettier stones on a spur of the moment action but struggling even more so against another wave of self-loathing that threatened to wash over her.
The latter thing was a daily occurrence ever since Kahadlok. The spider queen was still as melancholy as ever and also just as resistant to attempts to talk to her at length. She kept to herself now more than ever, scarcely leaving the apartment even during the warmer days. She spent the vast majority of these in silence and the overarching certainty that she was just as horrible as she felt she was, Guardian or his boyfriend's words be damned. She had been especially resistant to Zeke's attempts to get a word in edgewise since his failed attempt to "reason" with her when they had been staying at Brad's loft, try as he might to have her sit down and converse with him. Recently the crazy-haired twenty-something had come home going on about wills and ways and how she just needed to find hers, but Anya had swept from the room with a sour expression directed at the floor and no words spoken. Zeke had rounded on Brad then, gibbering away and sounding so sure of himself before her door muffled him quite well. He just didn't get it, not that that was anything new. He didn't understand her or what she had gone through or what she was living now. "Talking it out" was a crock; it would only serve to open up her invisible wounds and hammer in more what she already knew: she had done things - violent, terrible things - and liked them. She had wanted to rip and ream and kill...and had found the ideas appealing. She had spit in the face of her morals and felt no remorse. She had lost herself in that jungle; she became a monster and that wouldn't just magically go away overnight or with any number of "talks".
"Ugh..."
Anastacia set down a large scallop shell Zeke had found for her on the beach one summer and put a hand to her head. It ached, but that wasn't new. Even after four months she had barely slept the night before due to dreams of the hunter and her hands closing around his throat or else another matinee screening of everything she had done and had done to her throughout the search for Kyou. She did not sweat, but every time she jerked awake the Virus had felt cold inside and shivered. The dreams felt real, frighteningly so, and they only sealed in further to Anya that she was as she proclaimed she was. Deep down she truly wanted to believe the opposite but facts were facts and she had lived them. Zeke could try all he wanted but she would always resist, especially since she had him figured out now. He had seen her, he had experienced the monster first hand as his scars so clearly proved, and the only reason he said - or tried to say - those glass half full things was because it was his obligation as her Guardian. It was his job to try and make her feel better, as lousy as he was at doing it.
"Stupid man." She scowled at the shell and turned away from it, raising her other hand to rub at both of her throbbing temples. Anya hoped Brad kept him out for the whole afternoon, or better yet the whole night. The less she had to see of Zeke, the better. The less she had to hear him? Even more so. If he came back and started on a brand new 'Anya you're not terrible and here's why...' speech she just might scream - and just knew that deep down she would feel the urge to strike rear its ugly head once more.
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Posted: Tue Nov 26, 2013 4:28 pm
Cesc had called about her.
He'd called and talked to Zeke, and requested to talk to her. He'd come to their house, or just outside it, and looked up, and wondered. Sat outside for a quarter of an hour, half an hour, his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, and thought.
They weren't good thoughts.
He'd put her in danger. Directly in danger, in fact, stood and pleaded with her in an open clearing after he'd already been injured. Stood in front of her like a neon sign pointing straight to her, marking her for certain injury. All things considered, they were lucky she wasn't dead.
It pained Cesc to think of it. Zeke told him that Anya was unwell, that she wasn't up to visitors, that she was dealing with things. Cesc wondered if the 'visitors' Anya wasn't up to seeing consisted of a list of one, but he couldn't blame her if it was. He should have protected her. Should have managed to get her out of there. Should have, should have, should have. But he trusted Zeke.
Part of him hoped it was just him, that Anya was well and functioning but full of loathing just for him. That he'd just ended up on her bad list, the imperious queen.
A tiny piece of him knew it wasn't true.
The day he got the okay to visit he dressed in grey and put on his black ballcap, hiding as much of his pink hair as he could. He couldn't help but feel it was simply better that way, so as not to give her flashbacks of being shot. How he'd pleaded with her.
They should have just gone. If only they'd gone.
Cesc sighed. He lifted a hand and knocked on the apartment door, twice, sharply, with his knuckles. It didn't do any good to think that way and he knew it. It didn't help anyone, and it wouldn't help Anya.
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Posted: Tue Nov 26, 2013 6:22 pm
Altair reacted to the knock on the door long before Anya did. The Samoyed dog was lounging in the living room, brought to Zeke's apartment with her big brother by Brad since the Italian man was staying here a few days. An animalistic sixth sense made her ears perk when Cesc arrived at the door but it was the knocking that sent her into motion. The white fluff ball of a dog gave a short bark, got up, and continued barking as she made her way to the foyer - her tail wagging all the way there.
Why now? The first bark sent a spasm through Anya's head, like someone had grabbed onto her brain and given it a squeeze. She flinched heavily as she held her head in her hands. Anya groaned, knowing full well the dog wouldn't stop until the reason she was barking was found out or at least until Anya used what Brad referred to as 'The Voice'. She didn't want to use any voice at all, but until the dog quieted down Anya would get no respite and her headache would only get worse. "Altair, shut up."
Her words came out on a groan, low and more a product of her pain than an actual command. The dog didn't stop. Every bark from her mouth was a dagger plunging into Anya's skull. Closing the door wasn't an option as it would only muffle, not completely stop the sound from reverberating through the apartment. As much as she didn't want to, she had to leave her room and solve the problem herself. She moved slowly from her nest, leaning against the wall halfway down the hallway when the pain spiked.
"Altair, shut up!"
There was a pause in the dog's barking, but she didn't fully stop. Again the spider queen groaned, mentally goading herself to go further along and deal with the situation with the one solace that the Samoyed would likely go back to sleep and be quiet the rest of the day once she dealt with her. If she used The Voice, everything would be well. Perhaps she wouldn't even have to use it. Maybe just a look would do, and Anya had a hell of a one for that bratty dog right now.
The Virus Frei rounded the corner, immediately spotting the snow white dog by the door. With the sun shining in through the windows in the living room, it hurt to look at her as the sunshine bounced off her coat. Just grab her. Just grab her collar and pull her away - she'll stop it right then and there.
Her hand looped around the dog's collar and Anastacia pulled Altair back. The dog quieted with the sudden action, looking over her shoulder at the Frei. The tail wagging stopped, but like the pause in her barking from before, it didn't last as another two knocks came from the other side. Anastacia flinched. Of course it wouldn't be so easy.
"Pull me and I'll-" she started to make a threat but even that brought a burning sensation to the back of her throat. "Just don't pull me, Altair."
The same idea applied to this situation as it was supposed to with the dog. Open the door, tell the person on the other side that Zeke wasn't here, and then shut it again. One, two, three. They would leave, she could go back to her room and nurse her aches and pains, and return to her self-inflicted solitude to wile away the afternoon as she had since they had returned from that goddamned jungle. Easy. Simple. Zero complications so long as Altair didn't channel her inner Zeke and jump the person at the door. Anya braced herself, grabbed the knob, counted to three, and turned the lock free of the jam.
"Zeke's not--" Her eyes fell upon a familiar stranger. He was clad in a black baseball cap and garbed in a gray hooded sweatshirt like she was as though trying to hide his identity, but there was no mistaking the tufts of pink hair that slipped from beneath the cap, nor the ears and antlers that could not fit under there even if he tried. The eyes she was now looking into were an orange she knew well and full of so many things that she was also no stranger to.
"Hey...Anya? L-Listen...Cesc called a little while ago and he's coming over to see you. I know you might not want visitors or to go out or anything but I really, really think you two should talk. You can't just lock yourself away forever and I think talking with him will help you out, sweetheart."
Zeke's personage flashed in her mind. At the time she had blocked his words out, a skill she had been so apt to do before and was now relearning, but the vet had appeared in her doorway before he and his boyfriend had gone out grocery shopping. Remembering now, he had looked so uncertain, worried, but also ready for anything and everything to have been thrown at him for telling her what he had. Naturally, he had gotten no response from her.
"Anyway...He won't be here for awhile so I'm pretty sure Brad and I will be back by the time he gets here, okay? Nothing to worry about, just a head's up..."
His image faded, but his voice continued to ring in her ears. Anya's grip slackened on both the door and Altair, the latter of which took the opportunity to do just as the femme had not wanted and throw herself out the door at the new stranger in the hallway. The Samoyed sniffed and wiggled her way up to Cesc, licking his hand while her tail went a mile a minute. Anya did not seem to notice and if she in fact did, at this precise point in time she did not care.
"Cesc."
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Posted: Fri Dec 06, 2013 8:57 pm
There was barking and movement behind the door, and for a moment Cesc wondered if he'd gone to the wrong apartment. His hands fell from his jacket pockets and he looked up at the number and then over his shoulders, hesitant. The barking got louder, and as Cesc turned his head back to the door, it opened.
DOG.
Before he could say a word, there was a ball of white fur sniffing and half-leaping and wagging its tail at him. It was the most chipper dog Rhedefre had ever seen, half-vibrating with happy energy, saying hello in all the bright ways that Zeke would and Anya most certainly would not.
Then he heard his name breathed out and his attention was snapped back toward the door, his gold eyes wide and earnest, his lips parted.
Anya.
Immediately, one thing impressed itself upon him: she was not okay. She was dressed like a mirror of him, a grey hoodie on the slim, regal shoulders that previously only wore ladylike garments, showcasing her once-unblemished skin. She looked tired now, the bags under her eyes that Cesc recognized in his own reflection just weeks before. She was unwell and she did not hide that she looked it, and that -- that -- hurt the stag deeply to know.
She was not one to wear her heart on her sleeve. To showcase her suffering.
He thought of her suddenly, wild with pain and horror-stricken, in his arms in the jungle. Her tangled hair between his fingers.
"Anastacia," the stag greeted in return, his voice calm and low. He offered her just the barest smile, the concern unhidden in his eyes. "I'm sorry to be a bother. I came to see how you are."
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Posted: Fri Dec 13, 2013 8:30 am
She had been gaping at him standing there before her, an opposite yet equal visage to her own, like she was staring through the infamous looking glass like Alice. She surveyed him as equally as he did her, noticing every little detail about him that looked so un-Cesc-like. The Stag had always been vibrant, but not in a way that made him unseemly or annoyed her, like Zeke. He looked tired now, with shadows under his eyes and a light in them that was not the calmness of early dawn. Normally he dressed in a dapper fashion, or at least in something that flattered him in some way. Now he was hiding himself in a matching sweatshirt to her own and trying so hard to keep his locks from springing free under a black cap.
He tried to smile but Anya knew forced when she saw it. He spoke to her. It made her slackened form attempt to straighten, attempt to return to some ghost of what she formally was, but in this company? Company who had seen her, who had tried in vain to bring her back, who had in the end, cradled her and kissed her and whispered apology again and again? She couldn't even meet his eyes.
"Zeke said you'd be coming over," her words were mumbled, her lavender gaze ticked off to her right as it so often was these days. Her arachnid four were unmoving, unable to be turned or even so much as closed. She could still see her guest but Anastacia tucked her chin down so their focus was on his mouth, chin, and throat. "You're early I think."
Her grip around the doorknob returned and she held it in a hand that shook slightly. It was her anchor to keep her in the here and now. Anya didn't know what to do. What could she say to him? She could ask him to leave and surely he would go but...
She stole a quick glance upward. Seeing him there initially made everything flood back. Looking at him again made the memories focus on just him. His hand in her hair, his lips on her brow, his voice in her ears, the pain draining from her body. She had turned down all of Zeke's offers of "help". Talking it out, taking her out to visit those she got along with, taking her to the Lab to get checked up; everything the vet could imagine she had rebuffed or shot down entirely again and again. Now one of the rebuffs was here before her because she had chosen to block her Guardian out at the wrong time. Part of her wanted Cesc to go away, to leave the monster to her wallowing. Another part - and it was jarring how it gripped her and started to climb up inside her chest, growing and begging as it went - wanted him to stay. Another Anastacia would have felt embarrassed or disgruntled by the sensation. Off put to say the least. But this Anya stood on a precipice and she knew she hadn't turned him away yet.
A canine whine came from somewhere around where Cesc's midriff would one day be, drawing the spider queen's gaze from the floor to Altair. The pup was licking the Stag's hand one moment and shoving her head under it for a petting the next. Altair being there alone made the Widow raise her free hand to her temple, rubbing the spot that dully throbbed there.
"Altair, get in the house. You know better." It wasn't quite The Voice but the Samoyed looked at her master's ward all the same. Anya pointed behind her, furrowing her brow at the fuzzball, who looked at Cesc and whined once more before heeding the order. "She's Zeke's dog," it wasn't an apology to the pink-haired male, rather a statement of fact. Now they were relatively alone and Anya had her choice to make.
He came all the way out here...Zeke can drive him home when they get back...It won't be very long...Goddammit, Anya...
She released a breath she had been holding and floated backward, opening the door wider to allow the Stag to pass through. The apartment's foyer spread out before Cesc - a doorway to the kitchen almost immediately on his left upon entering, an opening to a hallway a shorter way past that on the right, and then at the end of the hall the living room opened up. It was there Altair sat watching the two, joined by an older, much larger, and somehow even whiter dog who was watching the two with just as much interest as his younger sibling.
"Come in."
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Posted: Fri Jan 03, 2014 5:09 pm
He came in.
Cesc wasn't going to press his luck. He thought -- assumed -- he'd get no further than the door, all things considered. She looked at him and his mind went down the same path that hers did. She noted all the ways he was unlike himself and he could not help but do the same with her. It twisted his heart. It made him want to reach through time, as he sometimes daydreamed about, reach through and snatch an arrow out of the air before it hit her.
How he'd give anything.
"Thank you," he said as he slid past her, respectful with his distance. She had to remember their final embrace, as she stilled against him, limp as a doll. His liberties with her. Touching her as he did, like he hadn't been wrecked, ruined in that jungle. She had to know, he was not himself. Neither of them were themselves. But she was clearly punishing herself plenty for it.
"I didn't know you had dogs," Cesc said, attempting small talk before any other kind of talk, leaning forward and patting the cheerful little bit of cotton fluff that had come back into the apartment. He liked dogs -- all animals, really -- and generally found that they liked him back.
He looked up, flicking his golden eyes to hers, his earnestness plain in his expression. He asked a question that she could answer innocuously or honestly, at her discretion. "How are you?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 06, 2014 6:21 pm
She lingered by the door even after she closed it. Pressing her brow to the wood, the internal chiding started. She had made a mistake doing this. Why had she let him in? He had laid eyes on the wreck lying in the wake of the monster she had been and now he was in her home. How could she turn around and follow him? There was no way she could put on a Susie Homemaker act or anything even close to one. For a brief moment Anastacia considered wrenching the door open and taking off. She wasn't the fastest Raevan by far thanks to her wings but she knew the building she lived in like the back of her hand. There were spots to hide in, places Cesc wouldn't know or think of, and...
And then what? What would that serve to do rather than make her feel more of a fool and sink his opinion of her farther? In her mind the latter was a very real thing, regardless of his cordial words and any smile he pressed onto his face. He hadn't just seen Anya; he had grabbed ahold of her, did his damnedest to soothe her, and she had sunk her teeth into him hard enough that the Virus Frei was sure she had left a mark. He had experienced her rage in a way only a few others had and for a time during that she had hated him. Beneath the pain of her flesh melting off her bones and her screaming, she had hated him for restraining her. She had wanted to crawl off to die and he hadn't let her. Instead he had held on tighter and had eased her suffering through some power he had. He had helped. She had despised him.
And here he was now, looking around her home and touching her Guardian's pets. She turned around as he spoke and she felt the strangest thing as she focused on Cesc and nothing else. She wanted to laugh or maybe sob, perhaps both at once, but instead the Widow just floated there, looking every bit as run down as she felt. The dark circles under her eyes, the pallid complexion, the downcast eyes and down-turned lips; Anya was unable to hide it even though some part of her compressed under all her self-loathing wanted her to. Inside a voice was telling her to stand up straight and be the queen she knew she was. For the life of her, she still could not. Perhaps she never again would.
Cesc was speaking. He patted Altair which opened up Faust to get off his hindquarters and give the guest a cursory sniff. The big Pyrenees was the calmer of the two and, finding the stranger okay, he gave his long tail a slow wag.
"They're only here because Brad is staying over. They don't live here usually."
Her words came out automatically and sounded almost robotic in tone. He asked, she answered, and for that statement there was no thought in between. Anya gave the doorknob one last squeeze before pulling herself away from it, but like Cesc did with her, she kept her distance from him. She didn't trust herself. What if - and this was something that had kept her up at night more than once - she suddenly snapped like back in the jungle and lashed out at him? She had done it before after all. There being a "catalyst" that time was irrelevant. Something done once could be done again and monsters...Well she had proven she had no real self control then, hadn't she?
The words that fell from Cesc's lips next made Anya cast her eyes down, lest he notice she had been watching him while his back was turned. She hunched her shoulders like a child being scolded and chewed her lip for just what to say. Thinking made her head hurt and she winced more than once. The question was stated plainly but right now it was like a poorly timed joke. He was looking at her wasn't he? Surely he could tell she wasn't the woman she had been before Kahadlok. Her face, her clothes, even her hair - which was not tied up in its regal bun and instead hung loose down her back and over her shoulders - nothing was as it was before.
"I'm..." Anastacia made herself glance up and she shrugged, arms extending out to show him just what she was wearing and how she looked. The Widow then scowled at herself for making the action and folded it in on itself - choosing to instead cup her hands in front of her. She couldn't do anything if she had a hold on those, right? "I've been better." Understatement of the ******** year...
She should have turned him away. He could have taken the bus home. He would have gone, surely. The gripping feeling from before - the one that wanted him to stay - held on fast. Anastacia didn't understand it but it compelled her to continue.
"You look...Different, Cesc." But he was Cesc. He was the pink-haired Frei whom she had met one hot summer day years ago. He was the one who had impressed her with his gentlemanly ease and savoir faire; one of the rare ones who she had found favorable almost right away. As it was 'different' was an understatement for him. Instead of his cravat and vest, he was in a cap and a hoodie that was identical to her own. Instead of a fresh face and bright eyes, he was dimmed and dull respectively. He wasn't the same, much like she was. He was hiding himself, much like she was. He was hurting, much like she was. The pieces began to fall into place.
"You're not here because Zeke invited you over, are you?"
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Posted: Mon Jan 06, 2014 7:27 pm
Cesc went further into the apartment, 'sitting' down on the couch and fluffing the dog's ears as she presented herself for patting. It was a calm, sweet motion, a friendly sort of affection -- a mark of who he usually was, or had been, before the jungle. He looked up at Anya, watching in silence as she stayed by the door, fighting herself, slumping over herself, debating inwardly if her move was the right one.
He had been there, and recently. He remembered seeing Zurine, so soon after Khadlok, and wanting desperately for her to leave. Or to disappear entirely, not to be seen.
She spoke, holding out her arms to show him how deep she felt she sank. He saw Anya now as Zurine must have seen him. Not as weak, no, or ruined or damaged beyond repair. As a friend who needed help, who deserved help.
Cesc wanted to help her. A flash of a memory crackled through his brain, of his arms around her. If only that would help.
"No, I'm not here because Zeke invited me," he verified quietly, his hands falling back from Altair's ears. He looked down, his mouth settling into a line, and then back up at her. "And I am different, Anya, sure. I think, really... really, we can't help but to feel different."
He paused. "I wanted to come a few times before. Zeke told me no. I've been ..." He lifted his eyes to hers, earnest. "... worried for you, after that awful--" He broke off, exhaling quietly, and shook his head.
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Posted: Mon Jan 06, 2014 8:32 pm
The pup's tail went a mile a minute as Cesc petted her. Her brother, content with Cesc's presence in his home, went to lay back down in a sun-filled patch by the windows. Faust only raised his head when Anastacia finally entered the room and once more he gave his tail a slow wag at the spider queen though she did not notice it.
The spider queen didn't immediately settle anywhere in the room. Instead she floated to the case that held the majority of her Guardian's DVD collection which was across from Cesc at a diagonal and separated not only by the floor space but a coffee table as well. The fact they could both hover made the barrier useless in truth, but it was the principle of the matter. Anya felt safer with that between them. If Cesc was kept at a distance then she couldn't do anything to him if something happened. It wasn't an electrified fence or a padlocked metal box, but it would do.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Anastacia listened to what the Stag had to say for himself. His verification made her wonder before he explained and all the while she watched him though there were plenty of times where she cast her eyes to something in the room to avoid his gaze before putting it back on her companion again. When his voice broke, she shifted in the air with her crown scuttling about her face with tense motions. The elephant in the room was as apparent as the sunshine streaming into the living room. Anya shuddered, pressed herself against the corner of the case, and squeezed her arms tight around herself like a security blanket.
"I suppose I should be flattered but..." She focused on a spot on the floor - a knot in the hardwood that had at one point in time been the joint for a branch. She remembered the branches of the trees hitting her everywhere as she half crawled, half flew through the jungle canopy. Many had left scratches, but all of those were now long healed. Even the stains her skin had been marred with had been long since molted away. The only physical marks that had been left on her person were the result of being used as a target and her hoodie hid those well. "I don't know why you'd be worried about me. After...After that I'm surprised you're here at all, really."
The bitterness in her voice was apparent but it was directed at herself, not Cesc. Another wave of self-loathing tore at her, tearing ragged strips out of the Virus' already jagged opinion of herself. The corners of her red lips turned down and her bottom lip appeared to quiver. She bit down to stop it and also to stop herself from saying too much more. In the days following Kahadlok, she had started down this same road due to a slip of the tongue around Zeke. That had led her to now; months of the veterinarian trying to "help" her by getting her to talk, amongst other things. Anastacia was firmly on the side of believing that to be a load of s**t, because speaking of her atrocities only made the memories come back to haunt her during the daylight hours. She dealt with them enough by night, as the dark circles under her lavender eyes showed.
"I don't know what to say." But it was strange. With the Stag here before her, it felt like the words almost wanted to come out. Anya remembered that soothing aura that had enveloped her in the jungle and how it quelled and calmed her. She looked at the Stag and scrutinized him, wondering if that was the case, but she felt nothing of the sort emanating from him. This only served to perplex her more. Now what?
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Posted: Thu Feb 06, 2014 8:33 pm
Cesc watched Anya traverse the floor aimlessly. He recognized the restlessness of her movements and posture, but said nothing, his hands laced together, his expression quiet. He knew she would say something when she found herself a place to alight upon, something to ground her.
But when she did speak, what she said surprised the stag. Perhaps not so much what she said, but the fervency with which she said it, her syllables laced with a poison that tipped inward. He had seen her in the past, haughty, her eyes passing regal judgement -- those were not her actions now. She was bitter and disappointed, and it was all inward-facing.
"I don't know what to say, either," said the stag quietly, watching her with level eyes. There was no magic, no power behind his calmness. He did not look pitying, frightened, or disappointed. His brow was smooth and his mouth was not tight, but there was a true concern that showed in his eyes for her, unmasked. "If I knew something to say that would make all of this better, I would. But that... I know that not to be a possibility."
His expression darkened on the last words. There was a grimness to the set of his jaw, and his eyes seemed to dim -- but then it was over, and he sighed, drawing himself up and continuing. Rhedefre shifted on the couch, his wings folding against his back, and inclined ever so slightly forward. "I can say this, though. I'm not angry, or horrified, or anything about that night -- not when it accounts for how I feel about you, no. And maybe that's not what you want to hear, or what I should say, but I think you have to know that. And I will say this, too: None of us deserved what we got, or what we became, or how we hurt that night."
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 9:59 am
"If it were possible, we wouldn't be here right now." Instead they might be out together, enjoying one of the last nice days of the year before December finally blew in and brought the snow and cold along with it. They would be talking on even terms about lighter subjects and while they wouldn't be arm in arm Anya would at least be enjoying herself. Such a thing felt like a pipe dream now, something that was some part wishful thinking and another part past. Instead the Widow shook her head. "This can't just magically be made better, Cesc."
She would have said more but the Stag shifted his posture and continued on. The shift alarmed her and sent her pressing back against her chosen spot in the room, but his words kept her steady and helped to return her gaze to him for more than an uneasy split second. By the time his words finished Anya was gaping at him openly. Her tired eyes were wide - something that seemed to happen to her arachnid four as well - and while her mouth wasn't on the floor, it was open enough to add to the look. To another she might appear half mad but it was alarm on her features, not malice.
"How...?" The question came out in a strangled near whisper but the fact her mind was blown by his statements was not lost in translation. "How can...You saw me, Cesc. You and Zeke and...How can any of you say that I'm not horrible for the things I did," for the things she wanted to do, "when you saw me do them?" By this point in time Anastacia had lifted off from her perch and had moved to the center of the room in a clatter of chitin. There she now floated, pacing as she spoke. "I...I did so many horrible things in that jungle to so many people. Including you."
The pacing came to an abrupt stop and she turned to face the Frei seated on the couch. Her expression kept shifting as she looked at him but two things remained constant - a wet, shiny glaze to her lavender eyes and a quivering of her lips. "I hurt you. I know I did, so don't deny it. I see it every night when I close my eyes." She took in a shuddering breath, snapping her wings shut abruptly but foregoing wrapping her arms around her to instead let them dangle limply at her sides. "You saw me do awful things to others and then I turned on you and..." She shook her head slowly. "Zeke says I'm not a monster, that I was just "reacting to being hurt" or however he puts it. Brad says kind things to me but he wasn't there, he doesn't know what really happened. And you..."
She pointed at Cesc but then pulled her hand back, holding it down with the other. Anya's shoulders slumped. She tasted a hot, sour bile in the back of her mouth. The memories flooded in as though they belonged there; as if they were saying 'you didn't really think we'd stay out of this, did you?' There was no keeping them at bay. That was a hopeless endeavor even on a guest-free day.
"I don't understand. I am a monster. I hated that hunter and Zeke and Iorek and you, Cesc. I hated you so much in that jungle and now you're here, telling me that after all I did you don't think any less of me." Her voice broke. She made a noise - a strange sound caught between a sob and a short bark of a laugh - and then the words came tumbling out again. "How can this be? Zeke says the same thing day in and day out and I can't believe it. How can you not hate me? Or be angry? You've always been so calm but how can you sit there and tell me in as many words that you don't feel any different about me after everything that happened?"
She looked at him with stinging eyes that had no tears in them and finally fell mum. He had to answer for her to continue on with fresh vitriol but for once in their conversation her gaze did not waver as she waited. As she shook all over she studied him, her mind a buzzing hive of thoughts and aches. He wasn't here because Zeke invited him. He said Zeke had actually turned him down time and again before now. What he was saying to her...it wasn't the result of the vet coaching the Stag on what to say. If she could believe it, what he was saying was actually what he believed. She should be flattered, as she said before. It was something that could be sweet in some foreign way. But as things stood now, it was still so hard for Anastacia to accept. Zeke was one thing but Cesc was entirely another. And without coaching from her Guardian? The single word question held on strong.
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Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 3:48 pm
For a moment, the stag simply watched Anya, concern and sadness in his eyes. There was no pity to his expression, but there was something of pain. He allowed her to be upset -- she needed to be upset. He was not there to devalue it, to sweep it under the rug, or to force her to bury it. He was there to help absorb it, and do what he could to help it pass. He met the alarm in her gaze with calmness, his fingers loosely interlaced, his golden eyes locked on hers.
"I saw you, yeah," admitted Cesc. "I saw you, and I saw Zeke and Iorek and me, too. We can't escape those things. You hurt me, but I nearly got you killed. That arrow -- I think it was for me, Anya. When I left, he kept after me. But he wanted us all dead. He tried to drown Iorek, and Iorek lost himself as well. He hurt Zeke, he hurt me, and he went tearing after you, too. We, all of us, lost sight of ourselves. All of us did. The hunter made sure of that."
He paused, looking down, and wet his lips. His fingers twisted. It was hard to see Anya this way. He knew her pride, and her preferences, and he knew a hug was out of the question. He scooted just barely forward, then forced himself to press back, and he hung his head down and then looked up at her again. There was restraint in the line of his mouth and the earnestness of his eyes.
"It hurts," he said softly. "It hurt to see you then and it hurts to see you now. That -- thing -- we went against in there, it wanted to poison all of us. Each of us. It went for you and Iorek. It tried for Zeke. It nearly killed me. And yes, I understand. I understand. It was easy to hate in there. I felt like a monster when I left you all to go after the Eye alone. I felt like I failed you -- you, Anya, you -- when that arrow hit you. It wouldn't let me sleep at night. I thought I'd never be me again, not with the guilt and the shame, and with seeing what happened to everyone."
He put one hand in his hair, raking his curls back. "We didn't -- don't -- have a choice but to bleed out the madness. The jungle didn't win, but it's still trying, for as long as we keep that poison in us. So no, no. No. I don't hate you, I don't think you are or were or will ever be a monster. We all lost control. We all got hurt in that jungle, and we're hurting still, and that doesn't make us anything different, anything bad -- anything but hurt."
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Posted: Thu Mar 06, 2014 6:27 pm
Anastacia pulled her gaze from Cesc and returned it to the floor as the other Frei spoke. She wasn't sure what she expected him to say - lecture her perhaps? - but the words he uttered were only spoken softly but in such a matter of fact way that it still made the spider queen flinch. When the Stag spoke of the arrow being meant for him, Anya couldn't help but correct him. That - along with Cesc saying he had almost gotten her killed - was most certainly untrue.
"If the arrow was meant for you, he would have hit you with it." She chanced another look up at her guest, bottom lip quivering as she reached over to one side to touch the second she now bore along her side. "His aim..." Anya curled her fingers over the covered mark, squeezing the loose folds of her hoodie between her fingers in the process. "He shot at me a second time when I was chasing him. It didn't hit me exactly like the first one, but I still have a second scar all the same." She had once been flawless in complexion. Now she was forever marred and in a way that she didn't even have to see those scars to know they were there. The pain that had burst forth from each arrowhead lodging or slicing her open was part of that reel of memories like some sick live action experience. Now that she was speaking of them, Anastacia could feel both jagged edges throb.
Cesc continued on, mentioning how it hurt to see her then and now. Anya looked back at the floor, ashamed although she wasn't sure why. The Stag spoke of how the Eye wanted to do them each in in turn. Then he went on to call himself 'monster'. The strange bark-like laugh of a noise was made again and Anastacia shook her head so hard that her hair went flying to and fro - entangling in the legs of her crown and spilling haphazardly over her shoulders.
"If you're a monster, then what does that make me?" Bitterness twisted her mouth and seeped into all six of her eyes. "Did you want to do harm to everything - everyone - that came across your path, Cesc? Did you want to kill them? String them up? Slice them open to see what spilled out and laugh while you did so?" Anya's eyes burned like fire. She raised both her hands to rub at her lavender set, then stopped that in favor of covering her face to hide her shame. It didn't do much good - the bile still burned in her throat and even she knew she radiated self-disgust like some ugly beacon. "I did. When I went after that hunter, all I wanted to do was make him pay." Anastacia slowly raised her face from her hands as she spoke. Never before did she look more tired and run down than she did at that moment. Everything about her screamed 'defeat' but the words still came rushing out like the tide. "'Find him. Hunt him down. Make him pay.' I kept telling myself that over and over while I searched for that b*****d. And you know what? I liked the sound of it. I loved it. That mantra kept me going through all those trees and the darkness and the pain."
She began to shake all over.
"You're right about the jungle making it easy to hate, but you're still wrong Cesc: the jungle changed things. I'm not me anymore. I'm not...I can't be me anymore. I can't go back to being who I was, not when I know what I've done. There's no going back from that. No matter how hard I wish it wasn't true, the fact is I'm different now. I'm different and I'm disgusting and I'm so sick of feeling this way!"
It hurt to say the words, but the truth often hurt. To keep herself from falling out of the air, the Virus moved rigidly toward the papasan chair that was placed on her side of the coffee table. She gripped the wicker so hard her knuckles turned white, but she did not sit down just yet. For the life of her, Anya had never considered what had happened or the aftermath to be a poison, but only because she had never looked at it that way. For the longest time it hadn't been about the jungle or the hunter or the Eye - it had been about her and her actions.
A poison... What did poisons do? They seeped in deep; burned and hurt, rotted and corroded until there was nothing left. There had always been a burning sensation when she remembered, both in her mind and in her chest. As her companion spoke what sounded so much like fact, it seemed to make sense. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, so desperate was she to find and cling to some shred of hope that she wasn't as deplorable as she thought she was. But perhaps, just maybe, he really was right.
Then again...
"How? How can I get rid of this...poison? How do you bleed out madness?" Anya grasped for more words, mouth moving but nothing else coming out. Finally she gave up, slumping against the papasan and resting her aching head against its side. "I'm so, so tired, Cesc. My head is screaming but I can't stop any of these words from coming out. I just...don't want to keep living this way. I...I know I can't keep living like this. I'm not even living!"
She looked back to the pink-haired Frei and where there was bitterness, there now was pleading.
"What do I do?"
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Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2014 12:56 pm
"You're partly right," The stag said, very softly, as Anya finished speaking. He watched her without judgment, with a quiet heartbreak behind the light of his eyes. He knew that fierceness, that furious pain that thrashed within her. He knew the desire to return to the innocence and peace he'd held so effortlessly within him before. The ignorance of madness. The blindness to his own darkness.
Cesc floated up, toward her chair, and sank low beside it, his hands on the curve of its frame. He did not touch her, but remained near. He wanted to gather her close, put her head on his chest, let the thrum of his heartbeat give her a calming metronome. But he held fast. How could he touch her? It would only bring back memories...
"You can't go back to what you were before, no. I can't, either. None of us can. We changed in there." He spoke simply, with care and sympathy. "But you don't have to stay this way, either."
"They say..." he began, looking down at his hands. "They say that all virtues can be made vices. That all our strengths can be made weaknesses in the right situations. Anya, you have to understand -- we were in a place that was designed to do that. We were facing a creature, an essence, that had only that in mind. We didn't know what we were up against. None of us knew that, or we never, never, never would have gone in so ... so stupidly."
Cesc inclined his head, looking down at her hands now. "You are a strong woman, Anya -- yes, even if you don't believe me. Ever since I met you, you radiate strength and competency. You're regal. Even now. And when something threatened to kill you and hurt you, you didn't have a choice. You turned all that towering strength outward. It turned your virtue into madness, and yes, yes, it hurts. That's a part of you. But that's okay, Anya! It's okay. Because you have the power to turn it back into virtue."
"It's the hardest part." The stag's voice sank, and he lifted his eyes to hers again. "But you have to forgive yourself that."
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Posted: Sun Apr 06, 2014 11:31 am
Despite her desires before to keep the Stag at bay - or, truly, to keep herself at bay from him - when Cesc rose and neared her chair, Anastacia remained seated. She was exhausted, physically as well as mentally and emotionally. Busting the dam that had kept all this hurt and pain shoved back inside was draining. Her limbs felt like they were weighed down with lead and her head felt like it was attached to her shoulders so weakly that with the littlest turn would send it either tumbling to the floor or floating off to bump against the ceiling. She couldn't move, but the look in her eyes spoke the opposite as Cesc drew close. The pleading in them showed a brief flash of nervousness that hinged on fear, but they never left the Stag even as he settled by her side. She closed her mouth and pinched it tight, but she listened instead of snapping at him to get away.
What he had to say sounded so strange to her ears. It was almost foreign even though he was speaking English as perfectly as she could. She heard his words and understood them, but that didn't make them easy to comprehend.
"Virtues can be made vices..." She repeated him slowly, trying to latch onto the concept. She tried to remember her virtues, but found she came up blank. Cesc, bless him, could remember, but the two he spoke of only made her shake her head slowly. "I'm not..." She said weakly and almost at a whisper. He continued on and Anya cast her eyes down at her hands too, wringing the pair together. Her face burned like her eyes did and had she the ability, it was certain to have been bright red right now.
"It's hard to believe you, Cesc, even though you sound convincing. I don't feel strong. I don't feel competent. I definitely don't feel regal. I try to do something, anything, after what happened and nothing seems to click or go right. I can't even create anymore!" She had enjoyed making things before. Sewing, knitting, crocheting - these had been her bread and butter. Doing them had been in some way just a natural extension of her being and she had enjoyed doing them, even if nothing came of her efforts. One day after the jungle she had picked up her knitting needles and tried to make with them, but instead of some quiet happiness like always, Anya had instead felt a stab of displeasure with herself. She had felt she was no good and could not do anything good with these. The Frei had dropped the pair into her bag right then and hadn't touched them since. That day had added another empty spot to her already hole-ridden heart.
"I just...I don't know. I want to go back to a time before this or make it so it never happened but I can't. I know I can't." She gave her hands another squeeze before turning them both over so that her palms were up and her fingers splayed wide. They shook visibly. "You tell me I can go forward from here but I don't know how."
She didn't know how she could turn the strength and competency Cesc told her she had back into virtues when she didn't feel she had them now. She knew she did before and even though the jungle was the big black spot dominating her memory, Anya could still remember floating about with her head held high and feeling as though her presence dominated a room. The memory was as foreign as the Stag's words had been - a picture to compliment them even - but it was there and looking at it now, it was something that made her heart beat faster and put a funny sensation in her chest. She didn't know it at the moment but that feeling was desire. She wanted that version of herself again, or at least, some part of it. And Cesc was making it clear he wanted to help her. Could she really deny him or herself that?
"Where do I even start?" She turned her head from her hands and looked at the Stag who hung so low beside her. He was watching her closely and Anya looked away, but then forced herself to look back at him. The Anya she was before never cast her eyes aside. If she couldn't keep eye contact with someone she felt close to, how could she ever hope to do it with anyone else? "I want...I want to try. You...You were with us and I know you went through what we all did but..." She took a breath and studied him hard. "You're not the same Cesc you were. Not...Not entirely. But you're still...You." Once upon a time she had been masterful with her words. She hadn't used many at all and only when she deemed it appropriate, but when she did they had flowed forth and hit home whether they be barbs or plainly spoken statements. Anya was quickly coming to find she missed that aspect of herself. She wanted her tongue of silver, not this new one of lead.
"I mean...You've changed, that's clear. You even said so. And I can see you're not all better but...You're here. You're trying to help me and you want to, I can see it in your eyes. Every time you open your mouth everything you say feels genuine, even if I'm struggling to believe it. It's just that I...I don't know. Everything that happened and everything since...The things I did...The things I know I can do...What can happen..."
She shook her head slowly again, forcing herself to keep her purple gaze zeroed in on his orange one even though it was proving to be tricky. A large part of her wanted to run and hide but along with the deadened, tired body she had it was the growing part of her that kept her seated. The two sides were fighting inside and were making the spider queen waffle. She wanted to but she wasn't sure. She didn't but then she did. She knew she couldn't have it both ways and definitely didn't want to. What she wanted, she had already said just before, but it wasn't as simple as that.
"This is so hard." Her companion had said so. The Virus' face skewed a little; a bitter smile. "I don't know if I can forgive myself now or ever, Cesc, but I do know that I don't want to keep this poison in me anymore. I want to live again. I don't know that I'm regal now like you say but inside me...I-I want to be again. Even a little."
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