|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2015 9:48 pm
Nights like this reminded Desdemona why she hated spending time at home - at least alone. When Poppy was here with it, it was one thing. She could chat with her about her day, ask her how she was doing, things like that.
But on her own? It was stagnant. It was frustrating. It left her confronted with the issue she simply didn't face as Amphitrite: Desdemona was, for all intents and purposes, hollow. No one noticed it when she was out clubbing, or drinking, or sharing a bed with someone else. No one noticed it at the gym where she trained. Although she was well aware that Desdemona was nothing more than a mask, it was here at home that she felt it the most.
She did not go out with friends. She did not 'hang out' with people. She trained, she patrolled, she took care of Poppy, she researched, she slept when she could - there was nothing she did as Desdemona that she couldn't have more easily, more effectively done as Amphitrite. And it was frustrating in the sense that she could not always be Amphitrite. Not that she ever really changed, per say, but it was just -
Her thoughts when she was alone like this were confusing. And she rather wished she'd just found an excuse to stay out longer, because even with her GED book still perched on her lap, it felt like a waste of her time.
Desdemona Anania was a waste of time.
She sighed and shut her book, idly opting to flip on the TV instead. Not that anything caught her interest.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2015 11:28 pm
Poppy fumbled with the keys outside the door, fingers still shaking a little, nose plum-stained with bruises and one eye livid blue and half-closed. She hadn't won the fight -- she wasn't stupid enough to think that. She'd been able to leave because of a lucky grab, and the girl had been so young, younger even than Poppy was; it'd...it wouldn't have felt right, killing her. She had friends. She had a family. Even if she was lied to, to make her go out and patrol on such a nice night, it wasn't worth the murder of a young girl.
(Sometimes Poppy thought that about who she'd been before, too. But those thoughts got depressing very quickly, thinking about a teenage girl who'd been so miserable and alone she'd killed to be appreciated. Who the hell would let that happen? And why, how, did they ever justify it?)
"I'm home, Des," she called quietly upon opening the door, slamming a shoulder into the doorframe and mumbling a nonspecific curse. "How are you? Sorry about being home so late - I was patrolling, and I got distracted." Distracted. Yeah, right. Maybe Desdemona was too focused on watching the TV that she wouldn't notice the bruises, wouldn't notice the scrape of gravel all down the back of Poppy's neck, wouldn't notice -- well. It was good to want. But wanting had never been realistic, anyways.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2015 12:55 am
Inwardly, Desdemona breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the door click open, shutting her eyes and allowing Poppy's voice to wash over her. Almost instantly though, she knew something was wrong - however soft, she heard a collision, a curse, and something about her sister's voice seemed off, wrong -
It should have come as no surprise that she turned around - her seafoam hair was tied back tonight in a small, loose bun, long enough for that sort of treatment now. (She really did need to cut it.) Her eyes widened, shocked when she saw the state her charge was in, and she was up off the couch moments later, quickly closing the distance between the two.
"Poppy - " she said, her voice thick with concern and just a touch of exasperation that her sister hadn't called her or something. "Distracted indeed, darling - " Desdemona reached out to graze her fingertips lightly across the cheek with the bruising, wincing in sympathy before she took the younger girl's hand and led her off towards the bathroom. "Come on. Let's clean you up. - and tell me what happened."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2015 11:45 am
"N-no, no, I'm okay," Poppy protested, her hands flying through signs (doesn't hurt, sister it's okay, I won) before realizing -- oh, yeah, Desdemona didn't know sign language. Sometimes it came out all instinctual-like, when it wasn't just formless gesturing; this was one of those times. But she let Desdemona take her hand and lead her towards the bathroom, hand clenching tight to hold.
"I got in a fight," she sighed, sitting down patiently on the toilet, hands clasped. "...I mean, nothing big, really...I didn't even think it was going to be a fight, but -" she touched her nose and winced, and came away with a finger lightly tinted pink - "something I said...really set her off. She was so angry. I fought her before, and she won that time, but...I had her starseed in my hand, I could have broken it, but I couldn't!" The plainitive distress was obvious on her face as she fidgeted. "She was my age. She was alone. She has a family to go back to, I -- I couldn't do that, not like that...her name was, um...Hyperborea. Of Cosmos."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2015 5:41 pm
It wasn't the first time her sister had begun gesticulating wildly at her, so that at least reassured Desdemona that her sister wasn't too bad off - but still enough to concern her. She squeezed Poppy's hand warmly in her own, trying to bite back the wave of frustration that someone had done this to her - to someone that was hers.
Her brow quirked as the explanation of a 'fight', as though Desdemona couldn't have guessed that much on her own. She sighed as she got some cotton swabs and things like that to begin cleaning her up, reaching around to carefully see if the gravel itself had broken skin anywhere, to see if her nose was broken or just bloodied. Her eye would need ice. "Those from the order need no reason to attack - they're ruthless, reckless, terrible people, " and she still couldn't help the note of bitterness that seeped into her voice to speak of them. "You should always be on your guard with them, darling. It takes little to set them off."
Although she was one to talk, really. She'd been more aggressive with the order than the other way around. But she had her reasons.
Hyperborea of Cosmos. If I meet her, I will kill her. The thought resonated in Desdemona's mind, her eyes darkening dangerously for a moment.
Then, she was all warmth for Poppy again, gently stroking her hair. "Darling, it's fine. Taking starseeds is hard at first. I struggled with it too, in the beginning. Please don't feel badly." Her smile broadened, a bit tight at the edges. "Just remember - if she had the capacity to do it, she'd undeniably destroy yours. Without regrets. That's how you must think of it."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 24, 2015 10:02 pm
"I should teach you some sign language," Poppy murmured, letting herself be obediently cleaned up and prodded at, squeezing Desdemona's hand back tightly as she could. The gravel had broken skin on the back of her neck, but not deep; not enough to draw blood, but enough to irritate the skin, and she winced pointedly. Her nose wasn't broken, for small mercies, but it was tender and a nosebleed could begin again at any minute. Small mercies: nothing was broken, nothing needed real medical talent. It would hurt for a few days.
"S-she wasn't going to attack me, at first," but Poppy's voice was hesitant. "I told her to go home, and...she just snapped. It was my fault." There she was, again, blaming herself for someone else's actions as she always did, head bowed in shame for things it didn't deserve to be bowed for. "She was my age. Who the hell tells girls my age to go out and murder? They did it to me too before this -- ow, Des - I could be going to school with her, I'd never know..."
She didn't see her sister's eyes darken. She wouldn't have wanted to. There were things Desdemona did that Poppy didn't want to know about.
"I can do it to adults. I've done it to adults for my quota. But I -- I can't do it to people my age. It feels wrong."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2015 6:40 am
When would she use sign language? - there was no reason for Amphitrite to know sign language. Of all the skills that were considered valuable, and there were many, sign language probably had next to nothing to offer the Negaverse and its goals. There was no practical reason to take it up.
Yet somehow... knowing that, she found herself wanting to learn. Badly. "You know? You should. I'd love that." It was no exaggeration, no lie, and that in itself both confused and intrigued Desdemona. Funny how Poppy could carelessly step into something like that; she doubted her sister had any idea what internal shadows she'd just skirted into. Perhaps it was only natural given the familial bond they were forming. Or perhaps it was merely dumb luck.
She pressed a kiss to the top of Poppy's head once she'd finished cleaning her up, circling around to the front of her to crouch before her, knees to chest, listening intently to her as she spoke. "Don't say it's your fault, it's hers. Theirs, " Desdemona corrected her smoothly, soothingly. "You have morals, Poppy. You are a sweet, beautiful, wonderful girl."
She reached up with one hand, cupping her sister's cheek. "You must set it aside to protect yourself, when the need comes - but it's important not to lose sight of that, either, because you - Poppy, you can save girls like her. Just as you were saved. They can't see what they are doing is wrong. Remember; taking a starseed does not mean death."
Desdemona flashed her a smile. "Next time, call someone. They can call Laurelite, and just think - someone who was once an enemy may become your greatest ally. Your best friend. Maybe even a new sister. You can give them that."
Not this one, though. This one, Hyperborea. She would die.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2015 2:21 pm
Poppy's smile wavered at the edges, forming itself when Desdemona confirmed she'd like to learn with a delighted little noise - and then a wince, because ow - because sign language was something she was good at. It was something she understood. Didn't matter how or why, because those were lost; but it was something she was good at and it made her feel like she wasn't utterly worthless. Like she had a step up. Like she was something. "I don't really know how I learned, but I can teach you a few signs, and fingerspelling's pretty easy to memorize..."
She listened to Desdemona speak intently, reaching out for a hug, because even if she'd been cleaned up she really wanted a hug fit to break her bones. "Stop flattering me," Poppy mumbled, in the way people do when they want to keep being flattered. "You're the wonderful one here. I was stupid enough to not come willingly, so I lost all my memories, and I still kind of miss them -- I can feel where I should know something, and I don't. It's nice, I guess, because I know she was really hurting...but...all of that not knowing hurts. It hurts a lot, Desdemona. I don't want to force people over, if it does the same to them. They can be coaxed over, I'm sure, to come willingly - and they'd be better...so their parents, their friends, can be given some closure."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 12:16 am
Even if she knew there was no practical reason for her to use it, Desdemona still couldn't help but feel warmed at the way Poppy was smiling so vibrantly at her. That alone, all her own intentions and needs or lack thereof aside, made the venture worth her while. "You should show me one now, " she offered, glossing over the issue of how her sister had come to learn it. None of that really mattered now, and it shouldn't.
Physical affection had never been much of a problem for her, and so when Poppy reached for that hug, Desdemona was more than happy to give it. And her hugs were nothing to sneer at, tight and warm and strong in ways people wouldn't expect to just glance at her - but Poppy had to have known from very early on what sort of lean muscle Amphitrite sported beneath that fuku. "I'm not; I mean I can start, but - flattering entails exaggeration, darling, and I'm doing no such thing, " she crooned adoringly, sliding her fingers through her sister's hair.
Then, she had to laugh. "If you're stupid for coming unwillingly, then I must be too," and Desdemona knew Poppy enough to guess what she might say to that. The rest was hard to deal with. Her face faltered over Poppy's shoulder, and for once, she was at a bit of a loss as to what to say.
It doesn't always hurt, seemed to somehow imply a weakness on Poppy's part, and the last thing she needed was to feel more weak than she already did.
It does hurt, was something of a lie, and even if there was any semblance of truth there, Desdemona would not willingly admit to it. She did not want to admit to anything but good that had come with her corruption, and the rest was really irrelevant - or should have been. There was no need for the dreams, for the occasional wandering thought of what might have been before.
"Sometimes though Poppy, darling, we aren't afforded that kind of choice." That was true. "There will be times when it will come down to death, corruption, or your own demise - and I can't lose you. They're so eager to send children off to kill - do you really think none of those children are poised to kill you, too?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 27, 2015 9:25 am
"Um, yes, of course --" Poppy stumbled over her words, but brought one hand to her chin and the other half-floating hesitantly, bringing them to meet. "Sister." Like this, smiling bright and hesitant and hopeful, she looked younger than fifteen: maybe it was the baby fat that still clung stubbornly to her cheeks, or maybe it was the look in her eyes. It could have been any of that.
Desdemona gave wonderful hugs, Poppy knew; she'd known that almost since meeting her sister. She nuzzled her face into Desdemona's shoulder, breathing soft and rhythmic. "I'm not really that good at things," came the inevitable mumble, "but I'm trying. And you're not stupid -- you're the best person I know, don't say that...!"
"They shouldn't be sending children out in the first place," and Poppy laughed, ugly and strained. "I told you, Des, didn't I? The reason Umber brought me over? I killed two officers. Someone told me to do that, someone helped me -- we're not murderers the way they are or can be." She ducked her head back into her sister's shoulder, whimpering, eyes squinching shut with the beginning of tears.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2015 6:28 am
Desdemona did not hesitate; instead, she watched Poppy and smoothly imitated the gesture, warmth emanating from her gaze as she echoed the word back to her: "Sister." In many ways, although they looked much the same, they were opposite; where Poppy tended to look younger than her true age, especially now, Desdemona often looked older than she was. She very rarely carried herself like the teenager she still was, and with her dropping out of school and into the role of caretaker, it was even easier to lose sight of the fact that she was only still barely a woman.
That, too, came down to the look in her eyes more than the curves of her hips.
"Don't you say that about yourself, darling, " and she stroked Poppy's hair soothingly. Quietly, she enjoyed the closeness of someone in a way that was for once in no way sexual, but just pure affection. "For one thing, you're the best at making me smile. - and I know I'm not darling, but if you're going to call yourself stupid for such a thing, the same extends to me you know." And she did not say this harshly, but rather like she was amused, a soft laugh bubbling in her throat.
That kind of laugh, frankly, didn't suit Poppy. "I didn't know that... but I'm not surprised, " she breathed out, toying with the ends of her sister's hair, cradling her close as she sighed. "These are the same people, after all, that left me to die." Bitterness still seeped into her words. "That's why I tell you all the time, Poppy. They do not deserve our pity. You can try and convince the children, you're right, but remember. Remember how they manipulated you, used you. They've probably brainwashed the other children in much the same way." She squeezed her sister tighter then, sighing as she breathed out, "Never forget - for our lost memories, darling, at least we've got a chance to set things right."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2015 10:04 pm
The way Poppy looked at people was oftentimes nervous, at best, not meeting their eyes; at her worst, she wouldn't meet their eyes then either, but the ugly way she smiled said far more than enough. It was vindictive and hurting and ugly- like she wanted to rip someone apart, like that would bring her entire life of memories back to her. She always carried herself like she was someone trying to disappear, and even as Chrysocolla that was only tempered with pride for the Negaverse.
But sometimes, sometimes, sometimes the look in her eyes changed to something infinitely vicious.
"Desde," she mumbled through the tears, "you're being a dork, stop that. It doesn't suit you." They left you to die. The words kept bouncing around her head. They told me to kill and they left me to die. "Why do they go after kids who are hurting? They're monsters. They're just monsters." Poppy was crying in earnest, now, ugly tears soaking Desdemona's shoulder, sniffling like her lungs were fit to break. "I hope they all die."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jan 10, 2016 10:49 pm
You're being a dork, and Desdemona laughed in that kind of careless way she so rarely did, more like the girl she was than the woman she presented herself to be. It felt natural, no, more like - it felt at all, was something that was not rehearsed, practiced, deliberate, but from real, genuine emotion from a good place. Something she sometimes wondered if she was even capable of anymore.
The laughter was short-lived, though, however true it was, and she just held Poppy tighter, closer, as her sister sobbed in her arms, slowly, gently rocking her to and fro in a way she hoped was soothing. "They are, " she breathed out, delicately pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of Poppy's head. "They are monsters, and they will. It will take time - but they will die, every last one. We will have our justice, darling. We will."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
