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Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2014 7:29 am
Iphigenia let the cold water run over her wrists. The water turned red, filling the basin with the taint of iron before it swirled downwards. Even though it was summer, the early mornings were still cold. Her fingers were white, her skin alabaster with cold. It did not bother her. She had long grown used to it. Whenever the healers were too busy, Iphigenia would come to wash the blood away and take care of her wounds. These little things could be handled without magic. Save the magic, she thought, for those who needed it.
She gripped the sides of the sink and thought about all that had happened. They'd been questioning a captured agent last night. But all that work had amounted in nothing. No information of value was gained and they had wasted precious time in the process. Damn the bugger. He was gone now. The pain too much to handle, or something like that. Iphigenia could not keep track of how every insignificant sob broke. Briefly, she wondered what Valhalla would say if he could see her now.
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2014 6:47 am
There were few things that could set Valhalla off, and finding out that they were responsible for killing someone was one of those things. He wanted to put an end to the war, but this? This was not the way to do it. There had to be another way, but because this way was easier many thought it was the “best”.
“Are you hurt??” he asked, his voice sharp, a mix of anger and concern. He’d ended up speaking with Remarque for most of the night, and by the time he managed to get back to the camp with the gift his friend had given him, it was already becoming light. To have been greeted by a body bag being taken away from the camp was definitely not something he’d been happy to see.
Another thing he was unhappy to see was a trail of blood he’d followed from the scene. “Are you injured, Iphigenia?” he repeated most as a demand than a question, but approaching her regardlessly, wanting to make sure for himself upon seeing more blood being washed down the drain. Minsuil No worries!! <3 Thanks for starting it!
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Posted: Wed Aug 06, 2014 10:13 am
Right on cue. Valhalla always seemed to appear when she least needed him. Or when she least wanted to see him. (Or maybe it was when she most needed him?) It was hard to tell anymore. Iphigenia found that the less she thought about it, the easier it was.
"Ah, Val-," and she had to force herself to finish his name because they were no longer close enough for nicknames, "halla. " There were a thousand snide remakes she could make, but Iphigenia found herself settling for silence. Her name, from his mouth. It had been a while since she'd heard that. She stepped away from the sink, and then, turned to look at her former mentor.
Iphigenia rarely found herself at a loss for words. But here she was juggling responses. It was too early in the morning to pick a fight with Valhalla. And as much as she loathed him and his opinions and everything he stood for and believed in, he was still her mentor. There was still a smidgen of respect and fondness when she did not think so hard about the past. I know what you really want to ask; did I kill him? So instead of ribbing the knight on, or rubbing salt into his face, Iphigenia held out her wrists for him to see. The cuts were still there, but she was no longer bleeding.
"I'm fine," she said.
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2014 5:53 pm
Valhalla didn’t want to think about anyone he knew actually trying to kill people. He didn’t want to know it was probably for the best. Still, as she showed him her wrists, he could feel his face blanch, his stomach churning uncomfortably, as if he was going to be sick.
“Did someone else do that?” he cautioned, sounding almost hopeful although anything that causes injury is bad, “Or did you…?” He had to ask. He had to know what he was dealing with.
He tore his eyes away from her as he fumbled with one of the pouches he had attached to his belt, digging out a roll of gauze, and nearly dropping the butterfly bandages onto the floor. He didn’t know why his hands were shaking — he saw injuries all the time. Burn victims and so much worse. Maybe it was because it was her? He didn’t know.
Maybe she was more important to him than he was willing to admit. He couldn’t afford to lose her — in death or to the darkness.
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Posted: Fri Aug 08, 2014 5:29 am
"No," she said with a shrug of her shoulders that suggested indifference, "you know we aren't that sloppy with disposal."
It was the truth. Those captured by the Shadows could never hope to see the light again. They were forever condemned to some shallow grave or disposal that would have the world guessing at their whereabouts forever. For Chaos, there would never be a confirmation of death. No body, no certainty. Iphigenia liked to imagine that Chaos wasted their resources trying to find their missing agents, but she knew better than that. If anything, that was something their side was aught to do.
Valhalla's old habit of averting his gaze whenever anything became close to a confrontation never ceased to disgust Iphigenia. It signified everything wrong with his outlook. He was scared to even question her. This man who held the standard of Royal. When he almost dropped the gauze, she had to choke back her snort. She stepped forward, and pressed her hand to his, covering the gauze, as if to steady him. The bandages were no doubt for her.
"Keep them," she said, raising her head to his, "I don't need them." She meant exactly what she said, but the little voice in Iphigenia's head continued on with bitter words, Or you. Or your pity. Or your worry. Or your protection, lacking as it is.
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Posted: Tue Jan 05, 2016 6:03 pm
Valhalla’s eyes snapped back up when Iphigenia stayed his hand and the gauze he’d pulled out for her, a frown etched across his entire expression. “Oh stop it,” he hissed, pulling his hands away from her after a moment, although he didn’t do anything else with the gauze, holding it tightly in his hand as if to keep himself from reaching out to her.
“The Negaverse is horrible, but what makes this any better?” he asked, his jaw tight as he tried to steel himself. The blood always got to him. The smell alone made his stomach churn. Whatever it was she was involving herself in… Things didn’t have to be like this.
“How do you plan to atone for all this once the war is over, Iphigenia? Just move on like it never happened? Or do you already plan on not making it to the end?” he wondered, surprised he could keep his voice steady. He’d already lost most of his family. He didn’t need to lose his friends as well, even if they no longer cared for him or his ideals, as Iphigenia’s eyes and tone said quite clearly. Minsuil I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond to this. I'd be happy to finish it if you'd still like to!!
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