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 Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 8:19 pm
"I've missed Lanna as well. I'll have to visit her soon." Belladonna replied in her warmest voice, her hands poised in the air as Mort made himself comfortable. The moment he stopped, the moment he relaxed her fingers dove into his hair and softly combed through. In that moment she couldn't help but consider him a small pet who needed a bit of comforting. Certainly he was still her boilfriend, but the comfort was what he needed. So while he talked, the witch idly played with his hair, her face trained out toward the room so he wouldn't feel the need to meet her eyes should things go awry in his story. Quietly, and with almost no questions, Belladonna listened to his story. And it didn't sound at all scary, well... Maybe that part about how they had to hide in tunnel, and poor Arel! Hopefully the school secretary was alright... At the mention of filching apple cider, the witch couldn't help but giggle to herself a bit. But her laughter was soon quelled by the strange turn in his story. "You were a... Spoiler? Oh my Hecate, you must have been darling!" Was her cooing reply. And when he mentioned flying and how he actually liked it... Well, maybe that smile came back a little stronger. Secretly Belladonna promised she would help him in whatever way she could with his flying project, especially if it made him enjoy the pastime a bit more. Then they could go flying together! Yet now that he had finished, now that he had taken a break, there was more time to discuss everything else. "These lockers... Are they still there? Could I... Could... We... Visit them? I'd... I'd like to see if there's anything of Melusine's." A small shrug was all Belladonna could add, her eyes trained right past Mort's face and at the bed. It was just... Seeing things through that vampire's eyes, being in her body with her while she died, while she struggled and fought but still lost... It was harrowing and Belladonna wanted the poor thing to live on. Especially since no one else seemed to remember her. The two of them hadn't really discussed their past lives together, not truly. After they had woken up, Belladonna had cried (naturally), but then wanted almost nothing else to do with it. Honestly, the trip led by the Clanswoman was part of the reason Belladonna had taken another leave from school. She didn't have to go with her family, she certainly hadn't the year before. Yet the view of the past... All those feelings, all that sadness... She simply couldn't take anymore. So she ran away, like always. Belladonna had hoped that her new found relationship with Mort might mend that, that it might give her more courage... But she was still the same coward as before. "That does sound rather strange... But what's part two?"
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 9:09 pm
By Jack, those hands were magic. He almost felt like melting and falling asleep right then and there.
While he wasn't sure "darling" was the correct word, it had certainly been . . . interesting to have four legs and a pair of wings. Yet Mort couldn't shake the feeling that something else had happened, some event small or large which had led to the beginning of those strange cravings that even now plagued him on a deep but unconscious level. He could recall small bursts of sudden rage, snippets of memories that had his face set in such twisted snarls and blood . . . But it wouldn't do his ghoulfriend any better to know, especially when he couldn't substantiate the source of the strange emotions. Really, she fussed over him enough as it was.
"I, uh, think so?" Mort answered. "If can find again, will come along." From there they could pour over their respective student's belongings to see if there was any other hidden mysteries to be had. Not that he thought Callie was one for things like that: his brief time watching her pretty much bespoke a ghoul with attitude and a loud mouth, and not much room for secrets. If nothing else they could compare their experiences, as Callie never ran into the vampire during her last days.
Resettling himself, Mort pieced together what he remembered from the second part. "Wasn't long after minipet land before stuff happened," he began, talking to the ceiling. "In locker rooms, we found skellyphone with map and strange numbers, n' weird trap door leading more underground. Had to pass through couple've security doors using skellyphone numbers, n' it was long walk in the dark." In fact, Mort had been one of the last students to reach the end, which had looked almost exactly like the cavern the students a decade ago had investigated, with the only difference being that the lake was frozen.
Of course not long into their search, the Hunters cropped up in their golems: everything had been situated to lure and trap the students curious in finding the lake for themselves. The usual antics began until, somehow, Medea and the four protectors intervened and forced the golems to malfunction. That had been fun - attacking them when they were vulnerable for once. Though that hadn't lasted long, and the dreaded nets began to be fired and entrap them; Mort had managed to evade them and help keep a couple of friends and newbies on the assault before he got netted and shocked into submission. And then Medea yet again exuded her influence and power, and the ensuing clash had been rather confusing and jumbled for Mort - but it came to an end before any serious damage had been done.
Well, so he had initially thought. The zomboil tuned a bit grim. "Then came reports that some students were missing, wouldn't answer phones, weren't in rooms. Amrita, Israfel, Yin, Mei, Amphi, n' Zar." The full list hadn't actually come 'til after the whole debacle, and he only really knew three of those names - but the seriousness of their kidnapping still had sunk in.
He didn't mean to stop at the cliffhanger, but he wanted to put together what he was going to say about the last part of the story. The least complex, yet the most important.
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 9:37 pm
It was so easy to lose herself in comforting him that Belladonna was now doing it all on her own and not even aware of what her fingers were doing. It wasn't until her skin brushed against a rough patch that she paused momentarily. But bigger things were going on, so she ignored it and figured it was just another suture of his. "I'd like that..." Belladonna mumbled softly as she blinked away the lingering thoughts of Melusine. It was probably a blessing that she hadn't encountered Mort's Callie when they were in the past, for a variety of reason the witch absolutely refused to consider. This story was, unfortunately, not nearly as pleasant as the first. Minipets were fun and cute and there wasn't really much danger there! But Jackdamn those Hunters never stayed away for long. Of course they were the ones behind all these weird scenarios, and of course they were there to cause more problems. The witch winced visibly when told that her darling had (once again, stop doing that!) been captured, but breathed a sigh of relief when Medea swooped in to save the day. Though they had never spoken, Belladonna was certain that Medea was an enigma wrapped in a mystery she could never unravel or even pretend to. She put them in danger and saved them all in one swoop, it was maddening. But then the list of missing students... "Oh my Hecate! Is Israfel alright? And Yin... ISN'T THAT ALEXANDER'S BOILFRIEND?!" Belladonna's hands shot from Mort's hand to cup his face. "Are they alright? What happened next?" Her heart hurt for them, and moreso for poor Alexander. Had she known, had she even been aware... Jack, she would have been back to Amity in a second to help search for them. Poor Alexander, that must have been hell for him. And then she really thought about it. Before, it had just been some faceless students, no one important. But with names, with people she knew and talked to and... And to know that Alexander had to go through what Belladonna could have so easily had happen to her. It was... Horrifying. She didn't want to cry, but just the idea that she could have been Alexander... That Mort could have been captured, it made her eyes p***k with tears and she had to look away to keep from sobbing all over him. What a watering can she was turning into!
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2012 10:35 pm
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it after a few seconds when his voice didn't come to him. There was dull surprise that she knew Alexander, sure, but his mind wasn't on that. "Mrrr . . ." He wished he was better at faking emotions. He wished he was a better storyteller. He wished there was a better story to tell.
"We, ah . . . were called. Horsemen n' Students alike." It was the best way to describe it. "Pulled to tunnel a-again. Strange swirl marking was there this time, but didn't do anything 'til Medea came. Talked to us about paths n' choices . . . Said didn't have to go. Not everyone is soldier. Not everyone is needed. You, ah, c-can guess my choice." His fingers relaxed themselves idly. "Went to in-between place. There, drank from goblet've strange water; Medea said was to protect from Hunter's barriers. N', ah . . . then we marched to Hunter Headquarters."
He paused again, his mouth pressed into a thin line. It was hard not to dive back into those fresh memories and lose himself. Mort's voice gained a dispassionate tone, a way to be separate from his experiences. Objective.
"Had thirty minutes before emergency barriers went up to trap us. Most've us went to bust kidnapped students 've course. Few stayed behind for securing portal for escape. Personally went to main HQ. Knew if could get to security protocols could buy more time for escape. Fought a Hunter there with fire blade." Here he couldn't help but wince at the memory of the sword's searing wounds, though he did his best to move past it. "Barrage on main HQ went well. Sustained more fire d-damage from one've Lead Hunters trying to stop us, but Medea stepped in again and got her to back off."
By holding her would-be lover hostage. Another dark detail Bells didn't need to know in a list of dark details.
"Eventually all've us there managed break through, bought them more t-time. Could've left. But, ah . . . didn't. Wanted to take their tech, wanted their knowledge, wanted . . . want s-something to take with as revenge, to research, experiment, find some use against their Jackdamn creators." The objectivity began to fade from his tone, replaced with a strained apology. "Should've left . . . Should've come back home . . . Was selfish. Was so stupid."
His fingers laced themselves tighter. "Death was different this time," Mort continued, his voice growing softer. "Was work of being called Merlin. Medea had enlisted to break down Hunter security, but for some reason he just . . . went into outrage. Earth shook, crystals erupted everywhere. From ceiling, from ground, f-from . . . I-It just swallowed me up. Was peaceful." And full of regret. He laid there still as the grave as he dipped briefly into that state of forced sleep once more.
"Eventually woke up. Memories came in p-pieces, like waking from very deep sleep. Followed group to two portals. More choices. More paths." And yet when he tried to describe his decision to enter the Lair, his head began to buzz uncomfortably until he shut his mouth, and even then it was a low hum that would take minutes to leave completely. Fine. One less piece of news to relay.
Sluggishly he sat up and turned himself about to face the witch, anticipating the reaction to his next, and final, part of the catch up. Equal parts grim and drained, Mort reached out and took Belladonna's hand into both of his. "Yin's fine," he said quietly. "Think so're the others. Dunno. H-Haven't heard much yet. But Bells, if that had been you who got kidnapped, I-I don't . . ." He squeezed her hand. "M'glad you weren't there for this. Wasn't good for the mind. We d-destroyed the Hunter home, n' yet . . . Feel like lost something. M'not the same." Some pod it he could explain if only the damn marking didn't suck his FEAR any time he tried.
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Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2012 8:39 pm
To her horror, to her shock and to her suddenly grim realization, Belladonna found that his story sounded like... A soldier's tale. It sounded more like he had signed up for this, as though it was expected of him rather than he was an innocent bystander caught in the crossfires who chose to do the right thing and help. What rankled even more than all that was the fact that he even seemed... Resigned to this fate. Even worse he made it seem... Like what he wanted. Unable to handle that current bit of information the witch bit her lip and listened. It was confusing, strange and hard to follow, especially since she didn't know what anything looked like. But it wasn't long before the real hurt came. Not only had he willing put himself in danger multiple times, her chose to stay behind, to risk his death for technology? Belladonna flinched harder than she liked when he spoke of his death, even though she had prepared to hear of it. He'd been so quiet lately, hadn't contacted her or anything, so surely he had died. It seemed par for the Field Trip course now days. Yet a crystalline death? Was it truly death then? And just as Belladonna was about to ask in her most hurt and angry voice, "That's it? That's the end of the story? You just waltzed in and acted the hero and got killed because of it" when she was interrupted by that strange buzz. For a moment she was upset, angered that he would purposely short-circuit like that, annoyed that maybe this was just his way of telling her he was done with the story... But something was off. His face seemed stuck in mid-sentence, his eyes too wide and something just generally off about all of it. Gingerly, as though she thought she might hurt him, or even receive a shock herself, the witch shook his shoulder. With a small clank of teeth his mouth shut, but the low murmur of circuitry kept up. "Are you... alright?"But then he was sitting up, his story still half finished. What paths did he take? What choices did he make? What happened after all that? How did he die in the crystals but at the same time didn't? Yet she couldn't ask, because he took her hand in his and looked at her with those sad eyes that made the tears want to return. With a small expression as though she were being scolded, Belladonna listened. When he paused, she wanted to interject and say that she'd never be kidnapped, she'd fight much too hard for something like that to happen... But something held her back. Something small told her that if those Hunters had wanted her, there wouldn't have been a thing she could do to stop them. What finally made her speak up also made one tiny tear trail down her cheek. "What did you lose, Mort?"
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Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2012 10:52 pm
His throat clenched again, different from being forced by the mysterious power of the mark. He wanted so desperately to say yes, things were bad now but would get better. But when had that ever happened with the Hunters? This siege had been the closest to victory they had ever been, yet even so the cost of that vengeance still lingered with the students - even moreso than Mort knew at that moment. "No," he managed to say, lowering his gaze so that he wouldn't watch her cry. "No. M'not alright."
And most frustrating was that he couldn't put a finger on what it was that had changed. Something within had shifted imperceptibly when he joined the Lost. Or maybe it had been just before that even. Or maybe just maybe, the change had begun irrevocably the moment he saw Red's death, or the moment his Hunter-interrogator had killed a student for his impudence, or maybe it had begun as simply as when he had first died. Mort didn't know. But he was a scientist, he was supposed to keep an eye on such processes that he might better understand how and why they happen. So much time had been squandered wading through the confusing beaches of adolescence, he had not stopped to appreciate the treasures hidden in the sand . . .
"I wish I knew," he murmured, feeling helpless and clumsy with his words when trying to express something intangible and just beyond his grasp. "Maybe didn't lose. Maybe still have but no longer gleams. Maybe is covered with taint of actions. Don't know. But . . . i-is moot point." Mort released her hands and clasped them in his lap, his gaze wavering as it raised to meet the witch. "Is moot point b-because will get stronger for it. Won't lose anything else. Have found way to achieve goals, o-or at least start to - n' from there, o-only can gain, not lose."
It seemed speaking in a round about manner didn't trigger the sudden dizzy spells. There was a small silver lining in that.
The zomboil chewed the inside of his cheek, hesitating. Then he unwound his fingers and slid the glove off his right hand, revealing the red swirl mark emblazoned atop it. "Was given this before battle," he explained, turning his hand so that she would see, "from Head Priestess. This n' other gifts for helping them during siege. Horsemen wanted revenge, we wanted ours back: was beneficial for working together. They're strong, Bells. Th-They could be best bet to finally defeating Hunters."
Funny, he sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Bells.
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 12:13 am
To see the hurt and the pain and the sheer rawness on his face only hurt the witch further, only strengthened whatever thing was building within her. Why did things always happen when she was gone? Why couldn't she be there, to help? To have shared this experience with him so he wouldn't have to go it alone? There would come a point, someday soon if she wasn't lucky, where just retelling the story wasn't enough. Where she needed to be there to understand exactly what hurt, and Belladonna was beginning to fear that that day was closer than she wanted it to be. But when he turned away and issued a soft 'no', an acquiescence that things were far more horrible than she knew, Belladonna couldn't help but cry a bit more. Even if he wouldn't look, perhaps because that hurt him further (she hadn't thought of that. Selfish, selfish b***h), she still couldn't stop the tears as they fell. In attempt to ease Mort's pain, she dropped her face down a little over their joined hands, so maybe she could shelter him, at least a little. And if things couldn't get worse, there wasn't an easy fix to this. It wasn't a simple 'bad things happened' or 'I'm dealing with my own death', things would never be that simple again. This was far worse and for whatever stupid, selfish reason Belladonna still felt angry. Not at him, but at something else. The Hunters, Medea, Amityville itself. They intentionally, continually and without care, irrationally put their own in danger. With absolutely no regard, they flagrantly misused the trust and love their own put into them. The Hunters fought for a cause daft in its own regards as what they sought to destroy was what made them who they were. Amiytville willingly let their students fight is battles, gave them pride in themselves and sent them to be slaughtered again and again, soldiers incapable of leaving. And Medea, her lot was worst of all. Belladonna very well understood how terrible it must be to have her home destroyed, how it must have been the single most horrifying thing to ever occur to one woman. But to then seek the destruction of innocents? Surely there were others more capable and willing to fight for the Four Clans rather than students! This whole situation was insane! And yet given the chance, Belladonna would fight too. Should they approach her, ask for her battle cry and hand her the metaphorical sword, she would scream loudest of all. It was maddening to be caught in an already mad cycle she couldn't understand... Mort's words filtered slowly through her tumultuous thoughts and just as she felt they were so close to breaking apart, it all clicked. She ignored his mention of a moot point as she rose to her knees, still smaller than him, and pressed her hands to his face. Her fingers found that familiar and adored jawline, and through her tears she managed the smallest of smiles. "If all you've lost is a bit of your gleam, then have no fear, love." The word tasted strange on her tongue, but her smile brightened ever so slightly. "Light is only momentarily displaced, never snuffed out. Your science can tell you that. All it takes is another light source to quell the darkness. And so long as you still try, as long as you promise to never give up... Then I'll be here for you. And I'll shine for you. I'll be your light and gleam brighter than any star, brighter even than the moon at night."There was no time to feel silly over her words that stunk of bad poetry as she leaned forward and pressed the lightest of kisses to his mouth. For a moment she looked at him, hoping he would take her words to heart as well as believe them, but then he moved to show her something and she shifted backwards. Her hands left the coolness of his face and instead found the coolness of his hand as her fingers delicately wrapped themselves around his wrist and hand. Intuition had kicked in earlier, tried to tell her that something had been wrong about his gloves, but she had shoved it aside. Now she knew. Now she knew that not only had Medea asked them all for help, she had branded them. Somewhere deep inside, Belladonna was rather glad she had opted to go to the beach instead of be branded. Her eyes blazed angrily as she looked up at him, eyebrows crumbled and mouth turned down into a nasty grimace. "She branded you as her own!" Strangely her voice sounded more hurt than angry, but the anger was still there. "What other gifts did she give you? Its all well and good that both them and us want the same goals, but will they give us their own should we need them? Or are we just pawns?" Hadn't it always been that the Four Clans were always superior, stronger, better equipped, special? "What price do they expect you to pay? Mort, I don't... What if you don't come back one day? What will I do? How will I... I just... You..." There were no more words to say. She simply couldn't say anything else as the witch pulled his hand up and pressed the mark to her forehead, choking on a sob. It wasn't fair. "How can I shine for you if you're gone?" She managed in a broken whisper, hunched over his hand and crying for him, for the two of them. Ol-j-man Oh, whoops. My hand slipped and I feel'd all over that post. >.>;
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 8:18 am
It struck him deeply, that was a strange word "love", along with the tears and the smile, and the warm touch he wanted to keep. It reminded him of what he still had rather than what he might or might not have lost. And when she leaned in for the kiss, he wanted so badly to just stop talking for a moment, to stop thinking, and devolve into the pleasurable teenage past time of making out. But he felt so immobilized by her declarations that he could barely reach up and touch her cheek before Bells pulled away to examine his other hand, and her name died on his lips.
She didn't know what she was saying. She couldn't possibly grasp the meaning . . .
And then, more terrible questions.
I-I don't know," Mort replied with a helpless shrug. "If are pawns, then're treated well. Are given chance to be part've s-something greater. Can -" Mort abruptly stopped as pain shot through his head, and with a small cry he clutched his forehead and swayed in place for a few seconds, his vision turning hazy. The spell finished as quickly as it started and left him a dull throb in his temples. So he couldn't talk about the fragments either? Mort supposed that was Medea's forethought: nothing would get out about the Lairs, their tasks, nor how they accomplished them.
He stayed in that position for a little while more before releasing his head, pushing his glasses up, and going on as if the episode hadn't happened. "Branded, yes, but by choice. Saw others come forward and ask for removal, n' she granted. Can, ah, leave whenever. N' others can join whenever." Something in his expression, however, said he wouldn't be opting out. "It's power, Bells. I-It's a chance to do something, n' that's more than school has given us, so much more. Horsemen want to actively kill Hunters; no dissension, n-no questions asked. They slaughter humans with glee n' revel in bloody punishment, a-and can't say isn't appealing at times. Unity of purpose, promise for revenge . . . I-I-I can't ignore it, Bells."
His throat constricted as the sound of the witch's sob, something that caused a greater pain than the dizzying spell. His free hand reached out to touch her arm in an attempt to comfort her, to tug her insistently closer. Words refused to come to him, choking him as they bunched in his throat; he had to swallowed hard, yet no brilliant retort revealed itself. All he could do was pull her to him and hope she didn't resist because of his decision.
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 11:04 am
If she had wanted a more dramatic declaration from Mort, she most likely should have given him more time to reply. But the witch's curiosity to see what was underneath those gloves hurried her, so she let the moment pass and didn't ask for his acceptance of her shining for him. But in the next few moments, she wished she had. Belladonna wished later that she had waited infinitely, had waited and kissed him more or said anything else to keep from going forward and reaching a part in their conversation she didn't want. Because he had to throw reason at her, try to convince her further of things that the poor witch was starting to break. What was worse was that she was about to open her mouth and yell at him, really shout at the zombie before her. No matter how well pawns were treated, they always got put back in the box! They didn't get glory or gold or reward for their efforts! They were the ones who lost! But the smallest cry from him stopped her dead. What had hurt him? Suddenly forgotten was her anger and instead Belladonna reached forward, one hand placed on his shoulder to steady him and the other gingerly pressed to his cheek. "Mort... Are you..." She didn't want to say anything else, she didn't want to ask. Only sit there in the quiet and will him to be better. Unfortunately for Mort, this didn't help the witch's resolve in thinking that Medea and her's were helping them. When he was able to move, she didn't remove her hands but kept them there. "They've done this to you, haven't they?"Of course he soldiered on with his cause, with what he thought was right. It wasn't that he was wrong, it was just... Something was wrong. Someone was lying or distorting the truth, something was off. Why would he gamble his life like that? This wasn't glorious, this was war. And that thought really broke the witch. She was done, she couldn't think anymore and instead just let herself dissolve. Maybe she cried too much, but it couldn't be all her fault. And when Mort touched her arm, when he gave the pull, Belladonna willingly fell into him. There was no fight as she wrapped her arms around his waist and cried into his chest. Desperately she tried to articulate her pain, but all that came out were half-worded sentences formed around silly sobs. "I just don't want-- You hurt! ... What if they're-- lying?!" Shaking fingers clutched at his shirt to draw him closer, "You might not always come back! How am I--" She didn't even bother to finish that sentence, she only pressed her face deeper and cried. "I want to shine for you... I want to be your light...Please don't throw me away..." Was all she finally managed.
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 11:44 am
"S'just . . . a side effect." A necessary one. He didn't begrudge Medea for her secrecy, and if anything was awed by her control and the mechanisms she employed to secure it. But it was clear Belladonna thought differently, and he couldn't blame her either for it. Not as she fell into him, not as he felt her tears through his shirt that she clutched to so tightly, not as he brought his arms around her like an embrace would remedy her fears. "They haven't lied yet. A-Always've been about revenge. Always've worked towards that goal. If methods are brutish, then . . . so be it." Maybe it would take something so visceral to finish the Hunters off. Amityville's split opinions certainly didn't help on that front.
At her last few words, however, a shock went through him. She thought . . . ? His grip tightened. "No!" Mort said emphatically, his features sharpened by fear at the very thought. "No. Bells. Bells I wouldn't . . . I-I couldn't . . ." He sucked in a deep heath and exhaled slowly, cradling her as he continued in a softer but no less determined voice. "I will come back. Always will come back s'long's you're there to meet me. M'not throwing away, j-just . . . Just saying I've made choice n' will deal with consequences, so long as can defend those I care about. Need you to understand that, Bells. Can disagree, can yell at, will take whatever you want to dish out. But need you to understand."
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 2:53 pm
"But how many more side effects will there be? Why can't you speak about it? I'm on the same side as you! Why won't they let us know too!" Actually, once she said that, Belladonna knew exactly why this precaution was being taken. If Mort were to be taken hostage by the Hunters, even if they tortured him, he'd be unable to even speak a word of the power Medea had given them. Which not only spoke of how absolutely thoroughly she had considered this, but also exactly to what extent she was willing to go. Medea would have no qualms with sacrificing her own should it protect her plan. Perhaps it was a bit unfair, but the witch simply couldn't help but continue to place all the blame for this on Medea. Though she wanted to press the thought further, to argue that killing both sides wouldn't get any of their dead back, Belladonna only gritted her teeth and kept silent. Mort had already committed to this cause, so there was very little left the witch could do. But there was at least one thing. "I understand..." Belladonna replied, her own voice a little softer and finally not so wracked with crying. She also took a deep breath, let the smell of him permeate her senses and cleanse her mind. Him. This was about him, not her. "I understand that you're trying to help, that you're protecting your family and friends and me too. All of us. But Mort... I'm going to help. You're not doing this alone anymore. I'm coming too and I'm going to fight alongside you."It wasn't fair that he got to willing put himself in danger and expect her to stay home, a hand pressed to her forehead and a handkerchief waving in the wind. That was preposterous, and he should know better. He wasn't dating a girl who did what she was told. He was dating a fiery, willful girl. "I want to yell at you..." She mumbled against his chest, "But you know I can't. Not you." Most of tears had stopped, not necessarily eased, but at least resigned to their fate. It was time to be the fighting light, the shining force that would keep him going. "I'll have you know that I nearly had Delphinium hex me this past week! She said a cross word about you and I slapped her hard enough to bruise her. Just for you!" Belladonna told him, her whole body pulled back just enough so that she could look at him, but so that she would still be within his grasp. So maybe she wouldn't wait for him at home, but Hecate she didn't want to be released from his grasp.
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 3:29 pm
When she pulled away to look at him, for a moment Mort could only lock his eyes in return, processing. Disorganized memories ran one after the other in his vision with the witch at the center, surrounded by blood, screams, and stained white coats - and when the vision grew too turbulent, he shut his eyes and shook his head. Yet behind his eyelids the the memories continued, creeping like crystals, hissing like fire, making his face grow creased.
"No."
She should have yelled at him, or beat at his chest, or done something more than say she would join the Lost like it was another club. "No," he said again, opening his eyes. "Am happy you want to fight, but . . . insist pick different route. Know there's more than one way t-to do this. There always is." Gene and King had defected, maybe others had too. Not many students had stayed behind in the Lair to begin with.
And he didn't want the witch to see the kind of person he was when among the Initiates, someone with a clinical aloofness who had suggested different methods to break the Hunters down in the Coliseum, who had become far too happy at the thought of unleashing viruses or blights or whatever else the tasks asked of him, even if it was strictly from a research perspective. That was a Mort she didn't deserve to see, not after all she had done and still wanted to do.
He reached up and lightly brushed away some of the trails of tears on her cheek, a shadow of amusement managing to bubble up in the wellspring of sobriety within him. "M'glad she didn't. Would've had to react." Bells would be so stubbornly defensive, but Mort hoped she would also see reason. "Listen . . . Others want to fight too, ones that d-don't want Medea's mark. They'll find a way. If things go bad, then . . . then will be good not having all pumpkins in one patch. Maybe Amityville has more secrets than what's been seen." Mort moved on to wipe at her other cheek. "Is this good compromise?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 7:09 pm
His unwavering stare that at once rested its focus on her, but also seemed totally in another place unnerved Belladonna immensely, but she refused to look away. There was something going on in his head, something he had to work through that the witch felt was important enough to not be a coward. Instead she set her face to be determined, triumphant and waited until he closed his eyes. It got worse then, but she pressed a hand to his face and hoped that it would help. Even if only a little. Yet what surprised her most was the small, short and forceful 'No' he gave her. For a moment she was confused, but she was patient and soon found out the rest of his answer. At first she was angry. Who was he to tell her she couldn't? She had absolutely no sway over him, why should it go the same way? (Because she was a coward, a small thing that wanted other people around so as not to feel so alone. In that moment she defied that, but deep down Belladonna knew it to be true.) Yet she shut her mouth when it opened to retort and instead waited some more. At his touch on her cheek, her eyes swept closed and she poised herself to be still, but his voice was much lighter than before and she opened one eye to peer up at him. "Oh." She finally mumbled and shook her head. "I cannot join Medea's cause. Not if its hurt you like this. I'll find another way. Amityville is full of secrets, there's got to be more ways to win than just the Four Clans way." And it didn't matter if she had to go it alone, Belladonna would dig through the entire school, get her hands dirty and do whatever it took to find another way. Any other way, she didn't care. This was all just... So much. Too much. It wasn't fair what was asked of the students, of those who had lost their homes. And it wasn't fair that Belladonna hadn't gone on any of these trips. She would no longer be waiting at home anymore. If she was going to shine, she was going to shine all over. So, as a start she straightened her shoulders and poked one corner of Mort's mouth with a gentle finger. "Did you at least like the picture I sent you?" Had her cheeks gotten a little more flushed or was that still the left over flush of crying? One couldn't be sure...
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 7:36 pm
It was selfish, he knew, to tell her what to do. But he felt no less amount of relief for it when she didn't question him further; he had purposefully looked over her inquisitions about the other side effects, half because he didn't have an actual answer, half because his inklings were not on the positive side. For now this ugly bit of business could be put to rest, and he issued a sigh.
The corner Belladonna poked stretched into a smile as he visibly relaxed, though he kept his hand upon her cheek. "You looked lovely," Mort told her. "Always did, 've course, but it was even nicer seeing actually had body under dresses." And such a comment, which would have normally brought the zomboil into a stammer to fix it into something more polite, only made him grin further as he stroked her cheek with his thumb a few times. "Should wear less clothes more often."
If there was anything positive he had gained from these events, beyond the strengthening of his resolve, it was a strange sense of self-confidence that allowed him to overcome what used to be things he would normally get flustered over.
"Any other photos should know about?" Mort asked, cheekily adding, "Or hunks from beach as competition?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 8:47 pm
The small sigh was a hopeful sign that made the witch's heart swell, even though it could just have easily meant he was just glad she was done. For there was still the fear in Belladonna's heart that maybe he didn't want her around all the time. To stay home and safe, certainly, but some horribly silly part of her thought that maybe... Just maybe he liked being the hero, and she the damsel and that they shouldn't move from those roles. But that was incredibly silly, and his smile made those fears vanish like the sun under a wonderful raincloud. Belladonna had been prepared to say something clever and witty and extremely flirtatious about the whole thing, but not only did Mort beat her to the punch, he very well flustered her. He noticed her body and thought she should wear less clothing more often?! For a moment Belladonna only sat there, her face flushed and eyes wide, before she managed to move her gaze away and reply in a rather silly looking manner. "Well I suppose I could find excuse to lose a shirt or a skirt or something..."Hecate, she couldn't even look at him now. Not with the way he was being such a smooth operator. No! No that's my job! He's supposed to get flustered over me and and and!!Though, honestly, with the way he was looking at her and being so forward, it was rather hard not to just explode hearts everywhere. The only natural response for an exceedingly busty witch is to lean forward, present's one bust in as appealing a manner and somehow manage to purr: "Only hunk I see is here in my bed. Though, you've seen my body and I haven't seen your's at all!"To help her cause, the witch batted her eyes in what she hoped was a seductive, flirty manner.
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