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 Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2025 10:14 pm
To its credit, Lukomorye did not scream in pain. It was propping itself up on its elbows, barely, and almost slammed its face into the concrete when Faustite grabbed its starseed and its arms promptly gave out. One hand tried to reach for its Princess and then fell loosely to the ground, too occupied with the current issue to allocate any mental space to things like that.
"Lysithea -- please --"
They sounded desperate. They looked desperate. They were desperate. They'd thought they'd known what pain was? Whatever they'd known before this, whatever half-perpetual agony their poorly-mended body existed in, was nothing compared to this. They barely knew what he was doing to them, only that it hurt, so ******** badly, and they just wanted it to stop. She was supposed to save them. She needed to save them. They didn't want to die. They didn't think they could
bear this, it just
Make it stop.
Make it stop. Please, god, make it stop.
Make it.
Please.
Please.
(black blooming through their uniform; starting from their chest like ink in water, curling out to their extremities; remaking them, washing away everything that had been marley barris-cora, my -- my name is marley, i'm twenty-two, i'm a page of lysithea, i
...who?)
...please.
At some point they'd bitten their lip hard enough to rip away skin and pull blood; their mouth was swimming with the taste of iron. This uniform had studded spikes, a fishnet top constricting their chest, and mascara caked on thick enough they could feel it. Not waterproof, though. Had they been crying?
Apparently so. Their cheeks were wet.
Their head hurt. Their everything hurt. They barely knew who they were or where they were or anything at all. Their chest hurt, in a way indicative of simultaneous physical overexertion and intense emotional exertion.
And that was the point where Lieutenant Bluebellite just ******** fainted, because they'd had a deeply intense ninety (or so) seconds -- not that they remembered most of it -- and staying conscious, let alone mustering the will to maybe try to get upright, was not in their wheelhouse.
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Posted: Sun Aug 31, 2025 1:33 pm
No.
No, no. Absolutely not. She. No.
The word burst from her, cracking as it turned from a plea into a scream that drew pain from her throat, the horror sinking into her very bones.
“No! Lukomorye! Faustite, what the <********>?”
Something inside of her snapped at that moment. Crumbled. Shattered. There had still been some hope. Some love for the brother she remembered, however vaguely. Some hope that she could still help him. Some grain of want that they could mend things between them…but with this?
The straw breaking the camel’s back was the only thing she could think of but.
Whatever there had been, it was broken.
One arm stayed around Halle, and she reached again for the tiara that was no longer there. “Give them back. Faustite I will kill you! I will make sure that you can’t hurt anyone again, you absolute monster. Give them back now!”
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2025 7:42 am
She deserved the same callous severity with which he challenged eery enemy. These were her soldiers. Untrained, undisciplined, unreliable. She let them fly free as this disorganized force, wearing her emblem on their hats and shoulders and uniforms. With their innocent invalidity, they painted her reputation for her. In turn, she used them as trades. As numbers.
A squire was worth more than a page. Thus, a squire deserved her saving grace. A page deserved a toss of a tiara. Youma were worth less than a page, for they were no longer human, and she only had use for humans. Specifically, humans that wore her emblem.
So she made her trade. She tried for more with those fanciful tears, but Faustite knew she didn't understand the measure or the worth of a person. She would never learn how to foster their potential, having squandered her own.
She turned her back on those who could have helped her to her pinnacle. A page — a cast-off number worth less than all the rest — was her penance. His consolation prize. Her way of saying 'thanks for playing'.
Eyes still locked on her, hand still in her callous trade, he vanished. They vanished. The remaining youma vanished. Only the quiet of the streets would remain to console her.
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2025 10:34 am
The sudden absence of a General King's aura had Halle roughly exhaling the breath he'd been holding, like a pressure holding him underwater had suddenly been lifted. His head still hurt, but at least everything felt clearer once more. Cleaner.Still leaning heavily against Lysithea, he tried to keep the hissing and groaning out of his voice as he began, "Thank you...I don't know what we would have..." Halle's voice trailed off as he finally opened his eyes and looked around. Eventually his gaze rounded back to Lysithea, full of confusion.
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