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 Posted: Wed Feb 17, 2016 9:02 pm
LABYRINTHITE General Labyrinthite was weary, exhausted by the flow of people that had come seeking him - looking to kill him for crimes he’d yet to commit. First there had been the knight of Saturn, then the fire senshi, then the knight and his senshi. All of which had rejected his pleas, who’d demanded blood and found that only theirs would be shed across concrete. In the few months that had passed, more blood had stained his fingers than he ever expected. He had tried to keep it from happening, but they insisted he was always going to end up as the man who killed and tortured and destroyed others. Eventually, he’d given up and became the reaper-man they’d so desperately fought to prevent. The irony of it all made him laugh harsh and bitter into the night air the day he killed his latest assailant. Her body had been pinned to a wall messily, the severed parts hastily tacked up and put up against weak points in the building’s structure. A messy scrawl written in her blood above and around her. Who’s next?
Who’s looking for me?
Come find me. I’m waiting.Beneath that, was a general location, the roof of one of the taller buildings near the outskirts of the city by an abandoned bakery. Then, there was a poorly drawn scythe as the signature. He sat upon his desired perch, as he had every night since he’d written those words. Even after they’d been washed off the wall and the body had been taken down. They pulled the body down first, the words lingering in dried blood for days before they could get a cleaning crew out. It’d been long enough that it should have been seen, if not in person, then at the very least in the photographs that were featured in the paper, plastered along blogs. So far, no one had responded and in many ways, Labyrinthite was disappointed. He’d expected challengers considering how his name was spreading around with both true and untrue facts. He’d expected the rest of the shambled Skaikru team to come looking for him. The girl -- he’d never gotten her name, the only one without a name, had made it clear that she wouldn’t be the last one. Blood must have blood, she’d snarled at him even as he separated her arm from her body. Blood must have blood, she’d screeched even as his scythe had bit into the skin of her neck. And so, like he had every day for the last week, the general waited. CELSUS Standing in front of the wall, it should have disgusted him. Sickened him. Made him feel something, as his green eyes traced the bloody writing left behind, sounding out each syllable, each letter. His gaze only briefly rested upon the body that hung there as well, but Celsus’s face was impassive, and he turned away. Come find me.
I’m waiting.The location was not hard to find. Celsus’s feet carried him towards it without a sound, his cape rustling behind him, the scent of chill cold in the air. He moved, for the first time in a long time, with purpose, though his eyes remained dull and flat, the wind rifling through his lank red hair. It should have all made him feel something, but all that was inside of his stomach and chest was emptiness. All that was inside of his head was blackness and soft, hissing whispers. He could not teleport, like the Negaverse, but the building, when he reached it, had a metal fire escape up one side. Celsus could feel the Chaos presence at the top, likely on the roof somewhere above his head, and he reached out hands and gripped the cold metal, ignoring the sting of frost against his palms. He kept climbing, the staircase creaking and shifting under each step, but he didn’t stop, his legs carrying him when the rest of him seemed to have shut down completely. He reached the top. Celsus stepped out onto the rooftop, letting the wind gust around him, and turned his head, shadowed eyes behind the glasses searching out the one who had left the message in the first place. His own power signature was a veritable homing signal, bright and obvious. No words came, yet. Celsus merely waited, his heartbeat slow in his ears. LABYRINTHITE He felt the knight’s aura the minute it edged into his senses. His eyes, which he’d closed as he waited, fluttered open, blinked slowly until the bright gold shined beneath the pale moonlight. He rose slowly, gloved hand pushing off the cold rail of the ledge, pulling his legs up until his heels met the edge and he stood. His hood shadowed his face, obscured everything but the brightness of his eyes, and his cloak billowed behind him as he turned. They were a contrast in the way they stood with Labyrinthite standing tall and certain of himself and Celsus seemed uncertain, jittery. The colors of their uniforms were starkly different as well, with Celsus bright and Labyrinthite dark. “I assume,” he said slowly, examining the man who approached but stayed quiet, “that you are here because of the writing.” Sometimes, when he thought too much about the deeds he’d done, the sins he’d committed, and it made him feel ill but if this time did, it didn’t show. His expression was stony, jaw set tightly as he stepped forward, cloak sweeping behind him. “Are you here for a fight?” The others had been and, usually, the general was always ready for a fight. It was what he did, combat was his specialty. He was trained to kill and he’d long since passed the point of blinking when he separated limbs from body or broke bones. “Or were you looking for a different kind of solace?” He’d done that once, frequented a specific area in the rift, circled around his skeleton tree and left starseeds as tributes for what - he didn’t know. He wondered what the knight sought and what he expected to receive in return. CELSUS He saw the hooded, darkened figure in front of him rise, with all the careless, elegant grace of a shadow slipping through the night. Celsus remained still and silent, his eyes watching the way the cloak moved, the way it shuddered around them like a cloud, and wondered what expression lay beneath the hood. He should have been anxious, uncertain, tense. Instead, for the first time, Celsus felt none of those things. Instead, all he felt was an aching emptiness that brooded inside of his chest, pushing outwards so that it seemed to expand inside of his ribcage and take up all the space that was there. The fingers of one hand, still trembling (he had no control over that), curled up against his palm in a loose fist that was more a subconscious gesture than anything else. He had no desire to fight. Not anymore. It was too exhausting, too tiring, too everything.The voice that came to him from under the hood was masculine, dark and low. Celsus shifted where he stood, and a breeze ruffled through the air, his cape rustling around his ankles and sifting sideways. “Yes,” said Celsus, and his own voice came out hoarse and quiet, surprisingly level. “And no. I am here because of the writing, but...no, I am not here to fight you.” It was a cold night. The chill air seemed to seep through the bones that lay beneath his skin, settling in so that a perpetual icy feeling was crawling up through him, burrowing deep inside. Celsus, however, was not paying attention to the cold, or anything else except the slow drum of his own heartbeat, the sluggish pace of his own pulse that should have been rapid, or erratic, but was not. It was an easy decision, in the end. Celsus’s gaze was steady and unwavering. “I’ve come for you to corrupt me." LABYRINTHITE I am not here to fight you. Beneath his hood, Labyrinthite let out a shaky breath grateful that it was all obscured by the stark shadow across his face. He had been prepared to fight, but he couldn’t help but be relieved that he didn’t need to. Despite his volatile nature, the general didn’t need to always fight but he would, if it came down to it. It was always simple, easy to slip into the combative nature that dominated him. It was his second skin and fighting was as automatic for breathing. But tonight appeared to be one of those nights where he wouldn’t have wear that skin. I’ve come for you to corrupt me.The request was not something he expected, not from a knight who wore the symbols of his loyalties across his skin. It was a curious thing, the faint glowing, that the general was unfamiliar with and for the first time in a long while he wanted to know more. “I am not sure I am the wisest choice for such a request,” he replied after a beat, after he’d given the man a once over taking everything. The uniform and it’s colors didn’t remind him of any one specific thing. “You are a knight,” he said slowly, knowing that he was stating the obvious, “Who do you serve?” Labyrinthite was Metallia’s knight and his knee only bent to her and her general-sovereigns. “Those markings,” he commented, whiskey eyes tracing the designs on his face, “what are they?” He’d seen them once, in a future that did not exist - after he plunged his hand into someone’s chest with the intention of dragging them over to his side. “Why do you want to trade sides?” He asked, reaching to push his hood back. It fell, fabric collecting around his neck and the stock, starling pink center of his fauxhawk visible against the dark of the rest of his hair. His expression was blank, though his eyes curious, as he tilted his head and waited for answers. CELSUS It was simple, really. Celsus did not know why he had not thought of it at first; why he had not ever considered it. Perhaps because he’d been blinded by the fact that he’d spent the past five years working so hard to convince himself that people were inherently good. That people were, underneath it all, not truly evil. He’d tried to reason with those of the Dark Mirror Court, the Negaverse, Chaos as a whole. He’d tried to talk with them, rather than fight them. And some, like Navi, had listened. Maybe not to him, and Celsus knew that Navi coming to the White Moon had little to nothing to do with him. But she had listened, at one point in time, and it had given him hope. Foolish, naive, pathetic hope. There was no more hope left in the world, no more good, and he’d been too blinded and too wrapped up within his own head to see it clearly. Celsus felt the wind on his face, the sound of the general’s voice wafting alongside of it to reach him. “You are,” he said quietly. “If you are the one who left that message.” He had little doubt that this man was an unwavering member of Chaos, and that was what he needed. Someone not to hesitate, someone steeped in the darkness that surrounded them all. Celsus shifted from one foot to the other, and felt, for the first time, a pang in his heart. He tamped down on it. “Chronos,” said Celsus. “At least, I did, at one point.” He was not going to think of the princess, her kind smile, her gentle hand, her soft words. He was not going to think about the shame of leaving her, because he knew that she did not care; that she had known as well as the Code had, that he was not meant for this life at all. He had been a mistake from the start, and all she’d done was humor him because she had pitied him. His head tilted, just a little, and Celsus felt a thrum of his own pulse. “Transcendence markings,” he said quietly, voice low and unhurried, in spite of his desperation. He remained calm and collected. “They will prove...a little difficult to work around, but if you push hard enough, it should be enough that I am willing and offering you my starseed of my own free will.” The question was not wholly unexpected. Celsus’s eyes fluttered, and he faced the general, watched the lowering of his hood, the revealing of a face not that much younger than his own, a year or two perhaps. A face that seemed carved out of stone, not yielding whatever it was that the man thought, and Celsus was not about to ask. “There is…” He thought of Tolliver; briefly, of Hitch, and of the rest of the Chronos knights, of Denebola and of Corvus, who had tried to help him and who had failed, because there was no saving him. “Nothing left for me on this side. I have done my part; I have tried to do what it is I could, and yet all that has happened is more and more of the same failures.” He gave one slow, shake of his head, the whispers shifting and hissing through his thoughts. “I have been blinded. There is nothing more for me here.” I don’t want this anymore.
I want to forget.LABYRINTHITE Labyrinthite was not a general who corrupted willy nilly like some of them, in fact -- he hadn’t corrupted anyone until recently, choosing to observe his recruits carefully before coaxing them to his side. There’d been an exception, a young paperboy but - it’d been the cost of his secret identity. As always, he did as needed. So, it was odd to hear such an earnest request when he’d expected a challenge, a fight. Still, it was something he could work around. He knew of Chronos, even if he had not interacted with the princess. He remembered the surrounding, the things that he had done to assist the Negaverse with it’s assault. It was likely that Celsus had been born from it, if he served the princess who served it. Transcendence markings. It was not a term he was familiar with, didn’t understand and he didn’t like that. “Explain,” he’d ordered, slipping into the role of a superior officer easily. If Celsus wanted his help, he would have to bend. “Transcendence is not something we have.” If he knew what it was, he would realize that they did with the Ascended. “It affects the chaos channel?” A curious thought. The soldier stepped forward until there were mere feet between them with his head bent so that he could look Celsus in the eye. “You wish to see the light?” A low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest and all he could think was, how naive. “Fine, let me bathe you in it.” It didn’t matter that Labyrinthite knew that he lacked the ability to corrupt someone at the knight’s power levels, he would channel chaos and pump the man full if that’s what he wanted. If Celsus wanted to forget, then Labyrinthite would make him forget. It just might not have been in the way he wanted. CELSUS The superior, powerful tone did not bother Celsus, who had expected to need to explain his current state. “Transcendence,” he said quietly. “It’s…” Hard to explain. Confusing. A lie. “A supposed deeper connection with one’s planet or homeworld. Not all achieve it, and not all seek for it. It is meant as a symbol of our union, our dedication.” He felt a pang of sadness, of pain, somewhere deep within him. His emotions were strapped down, subdued, and had been ever since Eurydike had walked away from him and left him sitting on the swingset. Celsus had not even said goodbye, not in person, but the letter he had left for Tolliver would be enough. (Except it wouldn’t, because nothing, ever, would be enough.) Celsus’s gaze rose to meet the general’s. He was several inches taller than Celsus, imposing and strong in his reaper-esque guise, but all Celsus felt was a growing sense of anticipation. A welling thrill, mingled apprehension and expectation for it just to be over, for it all to be over. “I offer you my starseed freely,” said Celsus quietly. “I give you that, and the rest of me, of my own volition. That should be enough to surpass the barriers of transcendence.” The laughter rolled through the general, thick and heavy in the chill air. Celsus’s eyes were fixed upon the man’s, and he felt the pulse in his chest quicken ever so slightly. He thought of Tolliver, again. Closed his eyes, and then opened them again. “Please,” said Celsus. LABYRINTHITE Transcendence was interesting and were it a different time, were he a different person then perhaps the general would have inquired further. Asked for more information than the knight was offering, but as it was Labyrinthite was more interested in the things that could benefit him. And accepting Celsus’ request was more pertinent to his interests. His left arm lifted, hand reaching for the space where he’d be able to dip into subspace, wrap his fingers around around the starseed and funnel chaotic energy into it until it broke, splintered in his hand and Celsus, knight of Chronos was no more. Except, when he tried, pushed his hand forward he found that he couldn’t reach into the sacred space no matter how hard he tried. Teeth gritted together and his brow furrowed as he tried again and found that he could only press his palm against the knight’s chest. There was an invisible, magical barrier that prevented him from reaching the plane he intended and irritation rippled across his face, pressed his lips into a thin line and tugged the corners down. “This isn’t - “ he grumbled, grasping at the front of the man’s uniform when he could get to what he wanted. “I can’t -” He wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t capable enough to push past the connection that kept Celsus tethered to the White Moon. “I need Laurelite.” If his face paled at the mention of her name, because he dreaded seeing her every time, he pretended otherwise. Labyrinthite grit his teeth together, irritation and annoyance flashing across his face as he pushed his hand forward again, fighting against the barrier until his hand had slipped into the other dimension. It still felt wrong, because he couldn't grip the starseed couldn't focus the chaos that he'd opened a channel for. Still he tried, even though he knew it wasn't working. EURYDIKE He’d had to go home. That’s how it’d all started - he hadn’t wanted to. But there were things he needed to fetch from there, clothes that did not drown him, and he’d only intended to grab a handful of those and then go back to Quenton’s. Hitch felt weak, he felt cowardly, but what else could he really do? Nothing. That’s what he honestly believed. Then, he’d seen the note. And whether or not he believed anything about himself wasn’t the point anymore, because for all his shame, he felt something. The note, it felt - it felt so final, so - he had to find Celsus. That was all he knew. Whether or not he could change anything, or what he’d even do - that could come later. He just had to find him. You’re wrong Celsus. You’re so ********’ wrong. God ******** damnit Fritz -- !It was sheer dumb luck, really - well, dumb luck and a couple of hours of running around like a bloody moron after he realized Fritz wasn’t home. (Add one busted door to the list of stuff he’d destroyed the last few days; what was one more thing, right?) Two powerful energy signatures: one chaos, one order. He made a beeline for them, perspiration heavy on his skin. What he saw horrified him. Celsus and a general, one he didn’t know, his hand in his chest and -- “ GET THE ******** AWAY FROM HIM!” he howled, and by now, to Celsus, the ring of white magic that came with the words ‘Salt of Man’ was probably a little too annoyingly familiar. CELSUS He waited, his breath growing faster, his heartbeat quickening for the first time since he’d started walking this evening - since he had written that letter to Tolliver. Celsus was aware of his hands and the way they still trembled; of the sound of his breath, leaving his throat in little rasps. He was aware of his arms and legs, and how they felt somehow disconnected from his own body, aching and tired. He was aware of the exhaustion that seeped into him like a disease; the overwhelming sense of utter loss, because he had nothing else to give, no more to take from him. And he was aware, also, of the fear that seemed to ripple through him as the general came nearer. Childishly, he wondered if it would hurt. Childishly, he wondered whether it would be over soon. He wondered what Tolliver would think, if he saw him after. How it would be to look upon the face of his twin brother and not recognize him - to not recognize any of them. Would he have any lingering emotions? Would he ever remember them again? He was aware of his heart, again, beating faster against his rib cage. A hand, reaching out to him, and he had only seconds before it became too late; before he couldn’t take back what he had decided, and no, wait, he wasn’t ready, he needed just a minute more, just one minute more - Celsus let out a soft, startled gasp at the first press of the general’s hand, half strangled. But though the push was hard, the hand did not sink into his chest, but instead remained resolutely above it, in spite of the look of intense concentration on the man’s face. The hand pulled back, and then pushed in again, and sank just a little deeper, and Celsus’s entire body went tense, his chest heaving, sweat beading on his brow. His own hand had risen, fingers gripping the general’s wrist, not to pull him away, but to help him, to try and force the Chaos, and any minute now - any second - Focused on the general, Celsus did not notice the third power signature until it was too late. He heard a yell - all too familiar - and then magic was bursting into life around him. Celsus staggered backwards away from the general and went down on one knee, eyes widening as he dragged in a sharp, painful breath of air, whipping around. No. No - Something in his chest ached, throbbed. “Eurydike,” Celsus gasped out, “No - no, stop, this is - I asked him to - “
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Posted: Wed Feb 17, 2016 9:09 pm
LABYRINTHITE He should have known something like this would happen, especially as the aura creeped on the edges of his senses. He hissed when the ring of salt wrapped around Celsus and his level of patience with the whole ordeal was wearing thin. The general recoiled slightly, slipping from the pocket he’d struggled to create as he turned, eyes narrowed into slits, to look at the intruder. He laughed, quiet and bitter at the stuttered exchanged and the demands. “Boyfriend?” He asked, glance from one man to the other. It didn’t matter what their relationship was, Eurydike was interfering and Labyrinthite wasn’t going to stand for it. His whole body shifted as he stepped away from Celsus and towards the senshi. Without thinking of his close proximity to his would-be ally he summoned his weapon into his right hand - the scythe materializing in the air as his fingers curled around the bone shaft. It didn’t occur to him that he was standing too close to the knight until he moved forward, grip shifting and the point of his blade caught on something. Whatever it was surprised him and when he turned, lifted the weapon up it tore. Labyrinthite’s brows shot upward when he saw blood but otherwise his expression was stone and he stepped backward, putting distance between Celsus and himself. He hadn’t intended to harm the knight, outside of the damage that he’d intended to do to his starseed, but even then he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. It simply wasn’t in his nature and he set his attention back on Eurydike. “I will resume in just a moment,” he told the wounded knight. “Pain is temporary,” he stated, as close to an apology as he could get, almost gliding over to where the senshi of salt stood. “If you wish to mess in affairs you don’t understand, I assure you that you will regret it,” he warned, a manic grin sliding across his face when he gripped the shaft of his weapon with both hands and swung. EURYDIKE Eurydike wasn’t even listening to Celsus by that point; if he’d had any doubt as to whether the knight was in his right mind or not, anyone who was dragging a hand towards his starseed instead of away couldn’t be trusted to make their own decisions. He barely acknowledged him, just shot him a look which said louder than his voice could have: shut the ******** up Fritz. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the insinuation, but beyond that - “ Family,” he spat in response, throwing up his strongest defensive stance - even at his best, this general was stronger than him. He knew that going into the situation. And after days of insomnia, fighting, and binge drinking, even with Quenton’s help, he was anywhere but at his best now. The thing was, he didn’t really give a s**t. He tensed further when the weapon was summoned (<********> that thing was huge), but made a sound that lingered somewhere between a yelp and a snarl, taking a step closer when the weapon caught on Fritz, lips parted in shock. Pain is temporary, “Easy for the b***h holdin’ the goddamn scythe to say!” he snarled - then the weapon was swung and he jumped backwards, cursing to himself. What the ******** I got?Nothing. He had nothing. Not that it really mattered anyway. “Celsus!” he barked, his gaze flashing to the knight again, trying his best to keep his eyes on the general, but - “Wake the ******** up, please! Goddamnit, you know this isn’t what you want!!” He hadn’t done any good. Not for Tolliver. Not for anyone. It’d all been for nothing. This didn’t have to be. This wasn’t too late. CELSUS He did not want Eurydike here. No one was supposed to be here to witness what he had decided to do; to see the shameful depths to which he had sunk. No one was supposed to care enough to see what he had become - and more importantly, no one, especially not Eurydike, was supposed to know that he’d done this at all. All of it was meant to be left behind. He’d lost too much; there was only the reminders of what he’d lost and all of his failures. Celsus’s mouth opened and closed, his heart pounding, and he did not get a chance to respond, not before Eurydike spoke before him. Family.It staggered him, hit him like a javelin. Celsus felt the impact of this singular word driving into him, and he stared at Eurydike, his chest feeling like it was about to expel his heart at any moment, as though, after how far he’d come down the line, he was about to shatter the fractured pieces of himself smaller and smaller, crushed to dust. There was a rustling sound, a gust of displaced air - -and then pain exploded in Celsus’s head, across his face. He let out a gasp of surprise and fell back, searing agony over his left eye and partly below it, and he felt the blood began to spill, felt the thick heat of it start to slide down his cheek. One of his hands had risen to automatically press against the wound, but Celsus stayed there, on one knee, staring out at the scene in front of him. The general was swinging at Eurydike, the scythe whistling through the air like a hot knife through butter. Celsus felt his heart leap into his throat as it narrowly avoided the senshi, and his pulse was rapid now, erratic under his skin. ‘I can’t,” Celsus stammered, and it came out half a whisper, desperation lacing each syllable. “Eurydike - Eurydike, there’s nothing left for me, I can’t - I’ve lost everything, I have nothing else on the White Moon, I just - I just want to forget, I can’t deal with this anymore - “ He was breathing fast, his stomach lurching. “Please,” he said painfully, “There is no more for me in Order.” LABYRINTHITE Eurydike slipped away in the nick of time and Labyrinthite’s grin widened. He catalogued the tension in the senshi’s body, the anger that seeped through him. Perhaps he’d been waiting for a fight this entire time, the adrenaline simmering beneath his skin and rising to the surface as he advanced. “You should listen to your family,” he taunted, lifting the scythe and readying to swing again. “You’re not wanted here, you should leave before you get hurt.” It was the only warning the dark haired man would get from the reaper-general, the only chance he’d have to leave without a fight. Labyrinthite was more interested in breaking Celsus. He could deal with the salty senshi later. Labyrinthite waited, head cocked and white teeth glistening in the pale light, knowing that it was unlikely that the senshi would take up his offer. He clucked his tongue against roof of his mouth, tsk, tsk, tsk, before the skeleton scythe was lifted, blade glistening and swung down diagonally. This time, the general didn’t wait for his weapon to connect when he slid forward with ease, stepping right into Eurydike’s space as point of the scythe twanged against the rooftop. His gloved hand shot out, curled into a fit with every intention of punching him right in the stomach. “He has made his choice.” EURYDIKE No more for me in the Order, “Then what the ******** am I then, Celsus?! Huh?!” In contrast to Celsus’ near whisper, his own voice rang out loud and raspy, laced with a completely different sort of desperation than what the knight was caught up in. “You wanna leave me too?!” Guilt. He was using guilt as a ploy. Even as the words left his mouth, Eurydike knew they were the wrong ones. This would drive him further off the edge, further into despair, not back to the surface. You’d think being there himself, maybe not the same dark place, but one so much like it, Hitch would know what to say. But he didn’t. He didn’t know the right words. He didn’t know what to say. He was completely s**t at this, he’d already ******** it up with Tolliver and -- Not wanted here. Where was he wanted? After all he’d done to people he was supposed to care for this week - the words sank into the pit of his stomach for all of a few seconds, weighing him down. He was so focused on the scythe, so preoccupied with trying to find the right words, any decent words at all - -the fist impacted, and hard, leaving the super senshi doubling over and sputtering, wheezing - and scrambling. It was stupid. It was about as stupid as trying to grab that youma’s tail not so long ago, about as stupid as trying to punch a general in the chest. Eurydike excelled at stupid and risky, really. This, trying to throw himself into the general, making a grab for his arms to try and throw him off balance or anything since he was in the circle of the scythe instead of facing it. “He can’t ********’ - ********’ make that kinda choice for his own a** right now, he -- !!” If it was hard to speak in the first place, it was even harder now, his ribs aching with every breath, never mind all but flinging his stupid a** at a general. But it didn’t stop him. “Celsus, I’m sorry! You were right! From the ********’ start, you been right ‘bout everythin’!” he choked out as loud as he could, his words blurring together into a mess of rapid syllables that blurred together at the edges. “‘Bout me, ‘bout him, ‘bout - goddamnit I can’t get him back without you, please -- !!” No, Eurydike didn’t say names; he didn’t think he had to. CELSUS Leave, thought Celsus desperately, go. Get out of here, before he kills you, before everything that I have already lost becomes what you have lost as well.What am I?
You wanna leave me too?He felt a terrible pain in his chest, like a knife digging deeper and deeper in. The accusation hung in the air like a vice around his neck, and Celsus was frozen in place, a hand still over his bleeding face, his fingers sticky with the scarlet liquid. It was obscuring half of his vision; he was forced to watch what was happening through one eye, and everything felt wrong.This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I was just supposed to disappear, to leave.
To forget.Celsus jerked as the general’s fist found it’s intended target, and Eurydike doubled over. There was panic on his face now, Celsus struggling to rise to his feet once more, because no, wait, it was only him, only him, not Eurydike too, not the one person he needed to stay alive and stay good for Tolliver - “Stop,” he whispered, but there was no stopping it. Please, he thought, but there was no more voice he could speak with. I’m sorry.
You were right.
I can’t get him back without you.A rush of memories, of emotions, of feelings swept over him, powerful and suffocating. Tolliver, laughing at him, swiping paint onto his face with a brush he’d stolen. Their parents, celebrating their birthdays together, and giving Fritz a set of watercolor paints and Tolliver a book, because they had never understood him, not really.
The Chronos knights, when they had been all together, grinning and smiling.
Princess Chronos, beautiful, kind, gentle.
Regan, unexpectedly, with the bruise on her cheek inexpertly hidden beneath the makeup, saying “it’s nothing, I’m fine. It’s normal.”And then, more painfully, Tolliver sitting in his bedroom, arms wrapped around his middle, sobbing horribly into the still night air, his leg bandaged and burnt.
Tolliver sitting with dull eyes, staring out the window of their loft, ignoring the tray of food beside him, the bed untouched from lack of sleep.
Tolliver, in their bathroom, holding a bottle of pills in his hand, screaming desperately with his voice hoarse, struggling against Fritz’s hands as they grip his wrists, because he has nothing left but guilt and shame and agony, and why can’t Fritz just let him go -
Tolliver, gazing up at Hitch when he’d thought Fritz wasn’t looking, the expression of adoration clear in both of their eyes; an intimate moment in the midst of life, shared between the two of them.
Tolliver, cheeks flushed, standing up for himself.Fritz had not been able to do anything, then. He hadn’t been able to drag Tolliver out of that darkness, that desperation, but Hitch had. Hitch had pulled him up, had gotten him on his feet again, and he, Fritz, had had to watch as all of his efforts to do something, anything for him had failed time after time. It had taken him so long to realize that there was nothing he could do. Hitch could. Eurydike could. I can’t get him back without you.Slowly, Celsus got to his feet. The magic of the salt ring was fading, disappearing and Celsus took a step out of it, his heart beating very fast, his chest aching with the effort of breathing. He could still only see half of everything, blood obscuring his vision, but he could hear everything; the pounding of his own heart, the scrape of the scythe across the roof, Eurydike’s ragged, desperate voice. I can’t get him back without you.“Stop,” Celsus whispered, and he was coming closer now, slowly. “Stop. Leave him alone.”
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Posted: Wed Feb 17, 2016 9:15 pm
LABYRINTHITE Labyrinthite dropped his weapon, the bone scythe clattering to the floor because at such a close range it was easier to fight hand to hand. Besides, in many ways the man prefered using his fists to his weapon. It was easier to make things personal, to get them to beg for mercy before he brought the blade back into the fray. Eurydike doubled over but did not go down and the general was mildly impressed. There were fingers grasping at his hands, attempting to throw him off balance and it made him laugh. Without the weight of his scythe he hardly moved against desperate attempts, barely bent when the fist smashed into his chest. “Is that all you’ve got?” He mocked, sneering at the smaller man. He had height, he had strength - muscles gained from endless hours of training and a magical strength that gave him an additional advantage - and he had experience on the super. “How pathetic,” he cooed, false sympathy lining his tone. He grabbed at one of the offending hands, yanking back hard, the other pushing against Eurydike’s chest, nails clawing at the draped fabric before he threatened to push into the space where his hand had been in Celsus -- Stop. Leave him alone.The soft words were enough to get him to halt, to stop from intruding on that secret place that only chaos seemed to be able to physically reach and instead, he pushed both palms flat against Eurydike’s chest, with all of his strength. Then, the general turned slowly, lips pressed into a firm line, brow creased and eyes narrowed. “He interfered and must be dealt with.” He spoke like it was a fact, if Celsus had been one of them, of the Negaverse, then he would have understood. Whiskey eyes regarded the man carefully before his lips quirked and that manic grin was present again. “If you want me to stop, then make me,” he growled, stooping low enough to reclaim his scythe before his attention returned to the other, weaker order-aligned man, “because death’s come knocking for him.” EURYDIKE Is that all you’ve got, give him a glass bottle or a piece of rock and then they’d see, or give him a decent night’s sleep, more water - as many things were to Eurydike’s disadvantage as they were to the general’s advantage. But yes - really, as it stood, that was all he had. Limited combat training, years of holding his own against scuffles on the streets, but those had nothing on magical battles with demon youma women and dudes with scythes and raw muscle. Even with his upgrade, he’d had more losses than wins, and he’d known from the start that this b*****d of a general outclassed him.
It ached - it made what small fragments of his pride that had ever been (there weren’t many) dig into him, because for all he tried - what little good he had done had been all but broken down into dust these last few days. Pathetic wasn’t really so far off the mark.
He expected invasive hands, to be honest, jerking futily against the general’s grasp. Moments before the hand would have sank into him, Eurydike just shut his eyes tight and gritted his teeth, waiting. It wouldn’t be the first grab someone made for his starseed. But most likely it’d be the last. I tried, was all he could think, thinking of Tolliver more than anything, and trying hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t gotten him back. He’d just pushed him further away and stood there, watching his back as he walked away -
Then, he heard Celsus’ voice. His eyes snapped open just in time to see the general’s face just before he was shoved violently, and the super senshi hit the ground hard with a low grunt - and however he tried to lay he ended up sprawled with raw, skinned elbows that had tried to stop his fall, but he’d still landed on his back, breathless and aching in all kinds of delightful new places.
He scrambled half-up as quickly as he could; it wasn’t that quick. His gaze flashed to Celsus without thinking as the general moved to reclaim his scythe, and he wanted to get to his feet, to be able to do something more, and he was trying to - it was just too slow, too much, too -
“Try me, “ he rasped out, because in the end, at least he still had words, however shallow they were, “you ******** class="clear"> CELSUS It was like watching a movie play out in front of his eyes; one of those old horror ones where it was so easy to tell the danger of what was to come, so simple, and yet so difficult to actually make any part of him work properly. In those movies, he remembered yelling at the screen, just run, just go, why aren’t you running? laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. But Celsus could not move now. His legs seemed rooted to the spot, and for the first time, he understood, however pathetic it might have been, what happened in those instances when fear was right upon you and your body simply refused to cooperate. Eurydike was fighting. Eurydike was still moving, spitting out insults that mingled with the anger on his face, even as the general was hardly bothered by the assault on himself; a man, brushing away a fly. There was a hand moving - Celsus saw it descend towards Eurydike’s chest, and a sharp, terrible sound of fear escaped him, eyes widening, and he lunged forward - -but the general had stopped, on his first plea. And now Eurydike lay on the ground, rasping for breath, and the scythe was being picked up again, imposing and powerful, the general not giving up, the look in his eyes dark and terrible. He did not recall moving, nor was he aware of doing so. But in one staggering, less than graceful movement, Celsus had stumbled forward and placed himself between Eurydike and the general, one shaking hand outstretched, palm towards the reaper. He was breathing heavily, the blood making him blink rapidly to try and dispel it from his left eye, Celsus’s face pale and drawn. It was hard to stand. He couldn’t think past the haze in his head, the desperation to get Eurydike out of here before someone else got hurt because of him. Before anyone got killed because of him. “Stop,” he said again, hoarsely, a pained note in his voice. “Please. Don’t - don’t hurt him, just - don’t, I’m what you want, not him.” The agony was almost too great to bear. Celsus turned his head to look at Eurydike over his shoulder, and his eyes were filled with nothing but despair, with the loss of everything that had once been so important to him. “I’m sorry, Eurydike,” he whispered. “I’m just - I can’t - I’m not worth this life, I never was, I was - I was a mistake, the Code told me so.” And the truth came out, at last, because he had nothing left. “It told me I was never meant for this, and I can’t.” His eyes were brimming with tears now, over bright in the darkness. “I can’t keep going with this.” LABYRINTHITE It would be easy, and was terribly tempting, for the general to stride forward and press the blade of his scythe into the senshi’s belly. Labyrinthite had wanted and intended to do just that when Eurydike toppled into the ground, a mess of skidding elbows and only able to push himself half-up. He felt a burst of pleasure when he heard the venom in the man’s voice. The spitting words like they’d hurt the general or help the super senshi. All he had were words and if he were more human, Labyrinthite might have pitied him. “You were such a spitfire, but it appears that you’re hardly a flame,” he laughed, lifting the bird skull off the concrete of the roof beneath them. The sharp metal chiiiinking and drawing sparks as it pulled off the ground and into the air. “You know,” he whispered lowly, aware that Celsus was moving behind him, “there are fates worse than death, perhaps I should gift you with that.” Two instead of one, Labyrinthite preferred those numbers. But Celsus had found his way before him and anger rippled across his expression, the only emotion he was constantly familiar with. “ No,” he snarled, both hands wrapping around the bone staff. “You made your choice and he made his. He chose to stay, therefore he’s mine.” His kill, his corruption, his prey - it didn’t matter, it was all the same thing in the end. He would have them both, with splintered starseeds, shattered limbs, and empty minds or dead. He didn’t care which anymore - it didn’t matter, because the White Moon would lose them regardless. “Get out of my way,” he ordered, eyes flicking between the brunette and the redhead. This wasn’t how he expected to spend his night, but he’d gone against multiple opponents before he wasn’t worried. Not when they were both clearly broken, injured early while he still stood strong. Yet -- Celsus didn’t move and fury flooded Labyrinthite. His gloved hand gripped just beneath where the blade grew from the bones and he shifted, thrusting the blunt end of the staff right at the knight’s belly. “Stand down or you’ll end up in a puddle of blood just like him,” he warned. EURYDIKE Fates worse than death. Didn’t he ******** know it. Hadn’t he learned it fast enough at the onslaught of Cinnabar’s claws, that whispered promise that had become a threat, that had become the thing that had left his life coming undone at the seams - corrupt or everyone you love will suffer - and like every other time, it was not thoughts of his own life, his own well-being that made him recoil from the thought. It was his memories of Tolliver, his memories of his mother, of other people he cared about whether or not he deserved to have them in his life. “Try it, “ he rasped, “See what happens.” No, he didn’t know why the ******** he was saying that, he didn’t want it, he didn’t want -- His heart was beating impossibly fast, staring at the scythe, knowing what was about to come - some part of him wasn’t sure if he was petrified or relieved, which was the saddest part. Then, there was a jingle. A shift. And Celsus had put himself between them, Eurydike staring up at his back slack-jawed and wide-eyed. He met his despairing gaze, every muscle tight and taunt in him, the pressure impossibly tight in his chest until - Something gave way. And it was suddenly as if the general wasn’t there at all. “ Stop it!, “ he snarled, and suddenly he was moving, scrambling on his knees, and he knew it was ******** pathetic, ******** pitiful, but there he was grasping at the knight’s cape, frayed edges and all, clutching it in his hands impossibly tightly as if that’d do anything to keep him there. “ Stop ********’ sayin’ that!! I don’t give a flyin’ ******** what this ********’ Code bullshit said!” he hissed; although for all his volume, he sounded less angry and more desperate. “How can you stand there an’ say that to me?! I’d be dead! I’m be dead four ********’ times over if it wasn’t for you!” he choked out, his voice rasping impossibly. “I wouldn’t have ever had him in the first goddamn place if it wasn’t for you! If you hadn’t kept him goin’, then I - I don’t know what to say to him!! The wrong words keep ********’ comin’ out, an’ he’s gettin’ further an’ further, an’ - I can’t do this by myself!” The words kept coming. He didn’t know if any would do any good; he didn’t know if anything he ever did was really any good. The only thing he’d ever taken some small measure of pride in was that he’d been able to do for Tolliver half of what he’d done for him, and now -- “You’ve been sittin’ here this whole goddamn time thinkin’ you lost him or somethin’ - like everythin’s gone - “ He would undeniably deny later that he was crying; right then, he undeniably was, tears pouring thickly down his cheeks. “ - did you ever think even once that you might’ve gotten a goddamn brother instead of losing one, huh?! ‘Cause I ain’t got no one else! - if you go then - then <******** it, this ******** might as well ********’ take me too, ‘cause I can’t ********’ do this!! Please -- !!” CELSUS He couldn’t move. Just as he’d felt frozen in place earlier, he felt frozen in place now, though not out of fear. It was out of a desperation this time, to keep Eurydike out of it all, to not let him be sucked into the endless darkness that clogged Celsus’s mind and heart with blackness. He’d already failed Tolliver in every sense of the word, he could not fail him in this one, last respect. He could not fail him in all that he had left. “No,” said Celsus hoarsely, “Please, I am - I am begging you, don’t, let - let him leave, that’s - I came to you for myself, not for him.” The scythe hit him dead in the stomach, making his feet skid backwards, and he gave a sharp gasp of surprise, a choking sound, Celsus’s hands automatically flying up to grip the weapon. He didn’t push it away, but stood there, braced against it, eyes wide and the dampness of his tears mingling with the blood that was staining one half of his face steadily redder and redder. The tug on his cape made him jerk, but he didn’t turn around. Celsus’s gaze was on the general, but his mind was fixed on Eurydike; on the overly familiar, rasping voice that pushed into his thoughts, invaded all of his senses so that he could hear and think of nothing else. Everything - everything was gone, he’d thought so, he’d known so - Did you ever think even once that you might’ve gotten a brother instead of losing one?The world around him seemed to stop, seemed to draw itself to a sudden, abrupt, screeching halt around him. The sound of his cape rustling, the heavy breaths of his own chest heaving, the snarls from the general, and even Eurydike’s voice seemed to settle into a muffled, muted buzz around him, all of it twisting and mingling together. From the start, he’d wanted to protect Tolliver. From the start, he’d wanted to take care of him, to make sure that he was doing all right, because that was what brothers did, even twins, where one was not older than the other. He’d still always felt the older brother, always looking out for his shyer, quieter Tolliver. From the start, he’d wanted to give him safety. And from the start, all Fritz had ever wanted, more than he was ever capable of admitting, even to himself, was not to be alone.He had felt it, for so long. The aching loss of friendship and family, the lack of strength, the inability to keep those that he’d allowed himself to care so deeply from being hurt. In his desperation to stave off the terrible sense of loneliness that had gripped his heart for months, for years, he’d pushed too many away. He’d lost almost everything. But, Celsus thought, and his head was bowed, so that his hair fell in curtains on either side of his face, obscuring it from view. His hands were still braced on the weapon, his chest rising and falling. But not everything.
I haven’t lost everything.His mouth opened, and what came out was a scream, a roar that burst out of him seemingly from the very depths of his soul, his mind. Bloodied fingers gripped the scythe, and then, with a sharp, sudden movement, Celsus shoved, pushing it away and staggering forward with the momentum, Eurydike’s grip on his cape keeping him from falling face first onto the concrete. He was breathing heavily, his face pale, and when he lifted his head, finally, the glowing marks of his transcendence seemed to stand out in stark contrast to the dark shadows that surrounded them, the blanket of night across the rooftop. “No,” said Celsus, and the look in his eyes, while not completely back to their usual brightness, were more full of life than there had been in days, in weeks. “You can’t have him,” he said, and took a step forward towards the general, his heart skittering madly in his chest, his breath coming out in rapid pants. “Or me. Not anymore.” He kept walking, through the unsteady footsteps, the ache and the weariness of his body, the blood obscuring half of his vision, and he was still fighting against the nausea, the dizziness, the throbbing in his skull. One of Celsus’s hands reached out, grabbing for the general’s shirtfront. “Sorry,” he whispered, and for a moment, it almost sounded as though he meant it, but the color was beginning to come back into his face now. Celsus turned his head to look over his shoulder at Eurydike, his fingers still trembling. “But my brother and I are going to be leaving here together.”
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Posted: Wed Feb 17, 2016 9:17 pm
LABYRINTHITE Eurydike begged, begged for Celsus to reconsider and the whole conversation should’ve brought about some type of reaction from General Labyrinthite but it didn’t. It hardly made him blink. If he were any less seeped in chaos, if the knight had found him months ago then perhaps he would have shown mercy, compassion. Instead they were met with a dark expression, irritation buzzing through him as the senshi pleaded and then something in Celsus snapped. He sighed. He’d seen it coming, really. Labyrinthite was not naive nor was he an idiot, he had been able to tell the Celsus had no true willpower, no resolve. He would have been a poor addition to chaos, it was simply a fact. I am not sure I am the wisest choice, he’d told the knight when he was first approached. It was evident now, in the way he threw his weight behind his scythe, and how he wasn’t backing off despite Celsus’s change of heart. Celsus’s was screaming - shoving Labyrinthite’s weapon away with everything he had and the general stumbled back, gloved hand slipping up straight onto the blade of his scythe. Blood coated the metal and an angry hiss slipped through clenched teeth as Labyrinthite stepped back, lifted his wounded hand to his face. “I’m afraid I’m not going to let you walk away,” he shot back, running his tongue along the length of the cut on his hand, licking up the blood that begun to stain his hand. It stung, a true testament to how sharp the blade, but it didn’t seem to hinder him. Pain is temporary, he’d said and he’d meant it. Besides, the wound was so minor that eating a starseed would heal it quickly and from where he was looking, there were two ripe for the picking. “If you wanted compassion, mercy then you picked the wrong general,” he scolded, complete with a slow shake of his head. “I always follow through.” He darted forward, bloodied hand grabbing the front of Celsus’s uniform and yanking him forward, hard, before swinging his body so he was between Eurydike and the knight, cutting off their small meager contact. Heels kicked in both of the redhead’s knees and that bloody hand grabbed him by the hair, jerking his head so that the line of his neck was long and taunt. “It’s a shame you chose this,” he whispered dipping low so he could talk directly in the man’s ear. His other hand, which had never let go of his scythe shifted it’s grip so the curve of the blade, the sharper, deadlier side was poised, prime and ready to take Celsus’s head off. “That’s okay, your brother will make a lovely addition, though he’ll be unrecognizable by the time I’m through with him,” he taunted, tossing his head back to laugh wildly. Then, he proceeded to do what he intended, blade jerking closer to the exposed skin of Celsus’ throat. EURYDIKE Something had shifted. He saw, heard, felt the change in Celsus in that moment - and it was probably the only time, bar the moment where he’d flung the bottle at the lieutenant and heard it shatter against his face for Tolliver’s sake, that he’d legitimately felt like he’d actually done something right for once. More important than that, though - He was relieved. He was intensely, painfully relieved and grateful to hear those words coming from the knight’s lips, to hear that Celsus wasn’t leaving, he wasn’t giving up, and - -he’d called him brother. It was a kind of acknowledgement he hadn’t even known how badly he wanted it until he heard it; it was one thing for Hitch to feel the way that he did. It was entirely another thing to be met not with rejection, but acceptance, something he’d been bitterly lacking in his life before Tolliver had ever come. There was a moment, an instant when Celsus looked back at him, that a smile lit his face, even as it contorted in a half-choked sob of relief. The moment didn’t last. There was no time. Eurydike scrambled to his feet, stumbling, as the general moved swiftly between them - and what had been relief a moment before shifted back into desperation, his body shaking from the back and forth, raw panic flooding his face - He moved without batting an eye, even knowing his magic wouldn’t do much against the blade, he still howled it, “Salt of the Earth!” swinging his arms frantically to expel the circle before flinging himself at the general from behind - literally, he jumped as high as he could, grasping for the fabric of a darker cloak and lashing out any way he could - teeth included. He wasn’t pulling Celsus watch just to watch him die, goddamnit -- !!!CELSUS His burst of adrenaline, of seeming strength, was not entirely accurate. It had given Celsus enough to push the general away, enough to at least gather himself together, but he had been sick for so long now that it felt as though he was moving under water. His movements were slow, sluggish and hard, Celsus exerting himself far beyond what he was used to over the past several weeks. Sweat was beading on his forehead, sliding down his flushed face. He wiped his forehead on his sleeve and it came away bloody, the fabric of his uniform stained scarlet. “I don’t want,” he panted, “compassion. I don’t...need that.” Mercy, perhaps. But he knew not to expect it, and knew it was pointless to try and reason his way out of this one. He’d walked here willingly. He’d come to this man knowing full well what it would result in, and yet now he was backing out of it, also of his own will. It was inevitable that neither he, nor Eurydike, would simply be allowed to walk away from it. He saw the blood, saw the hand raised to the general’s mouth, red across his lips for the briefest of seconds - -and then a hand was seizing the front of his uniform, yanking him forward. The world around Celsus tilted violently, dizziness exploding, and his knees hit the ground painfully hard, his head dragged back with harsh, unforgiving fingers in his hair. Cold metal was against his neck, not even touching just yet; but Celsus could feel the edge of the scythe a hair’s breadth away from his throat. His eyes were watering from the pain, the cut across his face throbbing, and he stared up at the general from his skewed angle, his heart beating very fast and painfully against his ribs. You are so inadequate, the Code whispered. But, thought Celsus, letting out an involuntary, half-strangled gasp, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt the first butterfly light touch of the scythe against his throat, a line of red appearing. I’m not.
I’m not inadequate.And from behind, he heard the roar, the footsteps, felt the the fizzle of magic through the air. “Eurydike, don’t - “LABYRINTHITE They were a pathetic mess and if they had been his soldiers, he would have reprimanded them - punished them until any thoughts of insubordination were wiped from their minds. As it was, he needed to deal with them swiftly so that he could be done with the whole debacle. He was in, obviously, better shape than either of them and it should have made things easier for him, but they were also both very stubborn and he found himself pushed back by the salt ring again. If it had just been the salt ring, the general could have destroyed it easily, but no - Eurydike had to throw himself at his cloak. In reality, it was probably a really shitty idea given how close the blade was to Celsus’s skin but it threw the general off balance enough that his arm jerked. The scythe cut something but Labyrinthite didn’t bother to see what. Instead, he let it fall from his hand, shattering the stone beneath them when the skull smashed into the ground and used both hands to attempt to rip the senshi off of him. Bloody fingers found hair and he yanked, trying to rip the man away from his shoulder when he - Eurydike ******** bit him. “You’re going to regret that,” he snarled, grasping blindly at any part of the senshi’s uniform that he could and yanking with all of his strength in an attempt to throw him over his shoulder. All his strength wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t grab the ******** - this ends here.” EURYDIKE Eurydike, don’t -- ! If he had a quarter for every time he heard that. He heard a crash as the scythe went down, screwing his eyes shut and feeling much stronger, more capable hands scrambling for purchase on him. Hair was an easy, safe bet that almost paid off - his hair was tugged loose from its holder and the super senshi howled in response as he felt a sharp tug and felt some tear, his eyes (already still damp) watering with the sting. Not that it stopped him. Because then his teeth found purchase and - when the super senshi bit, he bit with all the force he could muster, grinding his teeth together, and the snarl the general would hear was probably more akin to a dog or a youma than a senshi, low and guttural and completely driven by instinct, a wild look in his eyes. Unfortunately for Eurydike, though - the part of the uniform that the general caught hold of just happened to be cape. It snagged roughly against his neck, and the snarl shifted to a terrible gurgling, choking sound, along with the ripping of fabric - the cape tore, halfway, but not before the super senshi had been flung into a literal heap on the ground, coughing and sputtering. CELSUS For a split second, Celsus stiffened, the blade shifting, and he thought, as it moved, that it was the end. That he was not going to get to help Tolliver after all, that Eurydike would lose to this general, that all would be well and truly lost. But it wasn’t. And it didn’t. There was a rush of displaced air, and a brief, sharp pain across Celsus’s throat, but he ducked, twisted sideways, and the scythe whistled through the air, narrowly missing his head and cutting, instead of his throat, the ends of his hair, so that red strands fell to the ground around him. He did not stop to think about it, about the sudden gust of cold across the back of his neck. Celsus staggered up, half blinded, just in time to see the general’s fist seize in Eurydike’s cape. A shout escaped him, rough and not even fully formed words, but Eurydike was already in the air, slamming into the ground from the general’s throw. Celsus did not even hesitate, not anymore. “Percy!” he shouted, thrusting out his hand; and with a flutter of wings, the owl burst into life, flapping its enormous wings as it soared over to where Eurydike was. It stopped dead in front of him and spread the wings protectively out, blocking him half from sight, a screeching sound escaping from its beak. Protect him. Don’t let him get hurt.Celsus was running now, panting heavily, and the whip was in his bloodied hand. He did not have the strength to use the magic of the weapon, but he cracked it through the air, towards the general’s leg to try and knock him off balance. Please.
I will pledge all that I am to Chronos and not despair again if we can live.There was a peculiar, tingling sensation at his neck, spreading out, but Celsus did not seem to notice, his eyes focused solely on the man in front of him, and the one lying in a crumpled heap behind him. “You’re right,” he rasped out, “It ends now.” With this. With everything.
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Posted: Wed Feb 17, 2016 9:20 pm
LABYRINTHITE The bite was savage, more animalistic than Labyrinthite had expected from the salty senshi and he found himself grateful that there were so many layers to his uniform - the cloak, the jacket, the shirt beneath it - that prevented it from breaking skin even if a bruise would linger temporarily. It was gone soon enough, with the brunette a sputtering heap on the ground and the general would’ve advanced, except there was a very large owl in his way. Scowling he turned to Celsus, fingers flexing at his sides with his palm still bleeding and stinging from the cold air. He barely saw the whip coming at him until it cracked in the air, slamming into the side of his right leg which buckled beneath the blow. He staggered, but remained upright, exhaling harshly through his nose, jaw ticking when he clenched his teeth. His leg ached, throbbed from the point of impact but he wasn’t keen on going down or giving up the fight. “You think you stand a chance against me?” He asked, amusement lightly lining his tone. He didn’t care that he was outnumbered, especially so when he took the summon into consideration. He stepped forward, injured leg dragging slightly as he extended his left hand banishing and resummoning his weapon in the blink of an eye. “Come now knight, we both know you don’t have what it takes.” Labyrinthite was the type to fight to the death if he could. Looking at Celsus, he couldn’t see the man being capable of reaching that point. “But fine, I’ll bite. Let’s end this,” he sneered, hefting the scythe into the air and swinging, albeit, wildly. He was irritated, angry, that the night had not been smooth like it should have been. He was supposed to be leaving with two new additions that bent their knees to him and now - now he was lucky if he got the one. Stubborn knight. b*****d senshi. EURYDIKE Eurydike was dazed for a minute, clutching his throat and nursing the arm he’d landed on - it wasn’t broken or anything (or he didn’t think so; he’d had bones broken recently enough to remember what that’d felt like), thank god. But it still ******** hurt like a b***h, and it hurt to move his head, even to swallow - but he tried to ride the wave of pure adrenaline that’d carried him this far to pull himself up, finding himself face-to-back with a rather familiar owl. He’d met it once before - back before they’d known who each other was. Then after, they’d yelled, with Hitch breaking away and storming home to one of the worst nights for him and Tolliver - (It was kind of pathetic, how even the owl just made him think of Tolliver, his chest ache with loss.) He tried to get up. But his body wasn’t totally complying, riddled with fresh aches and pains, hissing as he moved - so he settled for one knee, especially when he saw the general coming for Celsus, swinging that goddamn ******** scythe around again. (If he never saw another scythe after this, he’d be a happy man.) The super senshi knew he had one cast left - so he used it, trying to ignore the sharp protest of his arm as he swung them around and threw the last protective circle he had, “Salt of the Earth!” and then just fumbled, grabbing the nearest thing he could find - there was a can - it was a goddamn ******** tin soda can, but he went ahead and flung it anyway because it beat throwing nothing. CELSUS His aim had rung true; the tails of the whip had cracked against the general’s leg, making him stagger, and Celsus felt a rush of relief, though it was short lived. The scythe was back in his hands, lethal and large, and the look in the man’s eyes was not one to be taken lightly. Maybe he didn’t have what it took. Maybe he didn’t have nearly as much strength as he should have had under normal circumstances. Celsus was dragging in ragged breath, and he was steadily losing what little color was left in his face. Sweat was sliding down his brown, dampening his neck, which felt strangely light, throbbing a little. And he still could only see through one eye, the other closed in order to stop the blood from getting into it. The owl gave a screeching hoot at the same time that Eurydike’s voice rang out alongside it, and Celsus felt the magic buzz, felt the protection ebb around him as he stood there. The scythe cut through the air once more, the general’s eyes glowering at him, and Celsus shifted, the salt circle preventing the majority of its powerful swing, so that he ducked and narrowly avoided a slash to the chest. Maybe he did not have everything.But he had enough.Celsus lunged forward, adrenaline and the last, desperate dregs of his own strength fueling him enough to move. He pushed past the dizziness and the nausea and at close range, it was hard to use his whip at this range; Celsus reached blindly out, felt his hand hit the side of the weapon, trying to push the blade aside so that he could reach the general. And for the first time in a long time, he felt as though he knew what he was doing. “I am Celsus, Knight of Chronos,” he hissed, and he kicked out, savagely hard, towards the man’s already injured leg. “I have pledged myself and my life to the Princess and to serving this world to the best of my abilities, and no one will remove that from me, not even myself.”And he felt, once more, the strange, tingling sensation that ebbed across his neck; a brief, searing pain that settled into warmth over his throat, Celsus’s eyes blazing with emotion for the first time in what felt like months, years. ”And it is your end that we go to now, not ours.”LABYRINTHITE It all went downhill quickly and for that, Labyrinthite cursed beneath his breath. That stupid ******** circle of salt hindering his attack again, but it didn’t stop him - instead it just gave Celsus enough of a buffer to escape even if it shattered to pieces in the aftermath. The miss left him vulnerable, open for retaliation as those powerful swings tended to and the knight had taken advantage of that. Celsus was in his space and his grip on the scythe kept him from preventing what happened next - the hard kick to his injured leg sent him to the ground, hard on his knee. A grunt escaped him, a flash of pain flickering across his features as he glared up at his attacker. The scythe vanished, returning to subspace because it was close to useless at such close range and in his position, he wouldn’t be able to do much with it at all, and the general decided to grab at the offending foot. With gritted teeth he struggled to stand again, pushing and lifting with the majority of his strength to shove Celsus back and put space between them. He wanted to keep fight, knew he could and that winning was still likely, but it was a matter of was it worth it. He’d already been shown that he couldn’t reach Celsus’ starseed and while dicing the man up was a tempting option, it would require more time and energy than he was sure he wanted to exert. His leg throbbed even as he stood, nostrils flaring in annoyance, gold eyes flicking from one man to the other. There was too much space between all of them, if he wanted to end it, then he needed to get in close but - A ******** can pegged him right in the temple and while the impact was small, it was enough to make him snarl audibly, ready to shred the summon and get his hands around that ******** senshi and - No, he told himself, stilling. It wasn’t worth it, he could come for them later when his mind was clearer and his instincts sharper. His mouth opened, then closed, words swallowed down as he reached for his hood and pulled it back over his hair obscuring his face. Then, with a slow blink of whiskey eyes - Labyrinthite was gone. EURYDIKE Something had changed in Celsus, in that moment - it was all happening so fast, too much at once, but - Eurydike’s breath caught harshly in his throat when he saw the knight take the general down to his knee, if only for a moment, but it’d worked, and - Take that you ******** b*****d! he thought to himself, way too proud of himself for the satisfying ‘clink’ of the can against the general’s head. He met the snarl with one of his own, as though he were ready for whatever the officer had to give - even if he wasn’t, at all, he was ******** tired and he ******** hurt everywhere and his magic was officially done now - Then, just like that, he was gone. Eurydike stared wide-eyed at the place the general had been, waiting with baited breath as though he half-expected the b*****d to just pop right back up again, maybe next to him, or behind Celsus, or - There was no follow-up move. There was not even a hint of chaos there, now. The super senshi finally allowed himself to breathe again, sagging and going almost limp for a few seconds. He hadn’t realized how hard his heart had been pounding until the threat was gone, and now -- Celsus. Blood. There’d been blood, there was still blood, and who knew how bad anything else might be after all that. He dragged himself up, cringing a bit, but it was nothing he couldn’t walk away from - tomorrow would be a blast, he was sure, but right now - “Celsus!” Eurydike didn’t exactly run up to him or anything, but he did walk briskly, his half-torn cape fluttering uselessly in the night wind. “Are you -- ?” Okay? It reminded him abruptly of the last time. You okay man?
No. I’m not okay.He hesitated, brows furrowed. CELSUS His kick had made the general fall, the weapon disappearing. Celsus staggered abruptly forward against the sudden loss of it, letting out a startled hiss. He caught himself before he fell forward, his eyes still fixed on the man on the ground in front of him, and then hands were against his chest, pushing him harshly back. This time he really did fall, Celsus stumbling back on one leg. He felt the reverberation of concrete against his knee as it hit the rooftop, rippling upwards throughout him, and a gasp escaped, his hands braced to push himself up once more. But then - -he was gone. Celsus stared at the space where he had been, the shadows still and silent, and there was no sign of him now. It was quiet, save for the wind that was rustling his cape, his newly shortened hair, his own breath, ragged in his throat. Celsus had struggled to his feet, still on edge, as though he expected a teleportation back, not completely gone. But...it seemed that it was true. The Chaos had dissipated, and all that was left now was the two of them, himself and Eurydike, standing on the rooftop. There were footsteps behind him, a familiar voice. Dimly, Celsus was starting to come back to his senses, the ache in his bones, the heaviness to his limbs, as the adrenaline began to wear off. The injury to his face was sending ribbons of pain across his cheek and forehead, blood blurring his vision even as he tried to blink it away. Slowly, he turned to face Eurydike, his chest tightening, so that every breath felt painful. Are you…?The sentence was not finished, but it didn’t need to be. Celsus, with the last bit of strength that he had remaining, took two steps forward and wrapped his arms around Eurydike’s shoulders, dragging him into a fierce and unrelenting embrace that seemed to carry with it years upon years of emotions. His hands were still shaking, and for a moment, he seemed unable to speak at all. “Thank you,” was what came out, finally, in a voice barely above a whisper. And then he was sagging, his legs giving away, Celsus half collapsing as the full extent of his injuries, combined with his own weakness, began to bear down upon him.
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Posted: Wed Feb 17, 2016 9:22 pm
EURYDIKE Celsus probably wouldn’t know it. But he’d see more of Eurydike in that brief instant than he ever would have before, beyond shallow aggression, more than boisterous jokes and teasing that had tried in so many ways to bridge a gap he’d never meant to make in the first place. His first reaction to hands on him was to stiffen, not because he expected the knight to attack - but because too many other people had, and it was something even Tolliver had had to deal with. But just as quickly, the super senshi’s tension shifted into something else - not exactly relaxed, no, but it was not that he was uncomfortable. It was that he could sense the gravity of it, the emotions behind it, and -- and it cemented in his mind that what Celsus had said had not been in the heat of the moment, in the heart of a battle, but -- Acceptance. Did he really have it? His arm still hurt. He didn’t give a flying ********. The super senshi returned the gesture, his touch tentative at first, but then Celsus said that quiet thank you and suddenly the embrace was tight, desperate, not like the playful ones that’d been before, a choking sound that was undeniably a sob catching raggedly in Eurydike’s throat. Tolliver had left. He had failed. He had done some things, some terrible, stupid things - but this, at least there was this, at least there was -- Celsus began to slump in his arms. “No.” Eurydike felt like his heart had stopped, like ice had taken hold where things had just begun to warm. His fingers twisted in the fabric of the redhead’s uniform, trying to keep the taller man upright. “No, no no - Fritz, c’mon -- “ Fear flooded like, raw and etched painfully clear across his face. “Don’t do this man. Don’t ********’ do this to me man, I - !!“ CELSUS He was aware of Eurydike’s arms, secure around his back, the embrace returned and not rejected as Celsus had thought it might possibly be. He knew all too well what he’d done to both him and Tolliver - and what he hadn’t done, the ache of loss still heavy in his chest. But for even the briefest of moments; even the smallest fraction of time, the differences had finally, finally been set aside, and for the first time since meeting Logan Hitchcock, Celsus was grateful for him. He heard the sob, and if he’d had any strength left in him at all, he might have had some of his own. But he felt utterly drained, and Celsus’s hands rose, fingers gripping at Eurydike’s upper arms. “I’m....all right,” he murmured, which wasn’t entirely true, but it was at least not a lie. In spite of his exhaustion, his weariness, the injuries to his face and his neck - and his hair, if that even counted, the ragged, uneven locks jaggedly severed - he felt strangely better than he had before. The darkness was easing, bit by bit, through the haze of his mind. Celsus was now on his knees half on the ground now, slumped over, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to get some of his bearings back. “I’m just...tired,” he said truthfully. “And my eye hurts.” Most likely from all of the blood that was smeared across the left side of his face. Celsus let go of Eurydike with one hand and pressed his other to his chest, trying to get enough air into his lungs to even out his breathing so that it was not quite so painful. His fingers slid up and pressed against his neck, coming away red, the thinnest of lines from the general’s scythe left behind. But something else was there as well, though Celsus could not see it. He lifted his gaze to look at Eurydike, and on his pale, drawn face there was, unmistakably, and surprisingly, a smile. “A can?” he asked roughly. “Really?” EURYDIKE The movement of those hands, the pressure of his fingers, and just hearing his voice made most of the fear seep out of Eurydike like poison, his shoulders slumping as he sighed. “You’re full of it, “ he chided gruffly, easing down with the knight as he slid down, trying to support him so he didn’t hurt himself any more than he already was. “You look like s**t.” Which was and wasn’t true. Celsus might’ve been a mess, but… My eye hurts. The super senshi didn’t bat an eye. He simply reached down and tore the fabric of his cape the rest of the way, then gripped it between his teeth and tore again, so he had two stretches of red fabric that were all frayed at the edges. “Hold still, “ he grunted, trying to be gentle about it as he went ahead and started dabbing at the knight’s face with one, trying to clean some of the blood and sweat away. Wasn’t like having a real bandage, but… hey, at least the fabric was red to start with. Small favors. Eurydike’s hands were shaking, and his eyes were still wet. He chose to ignore that. The smile surprised him. That was the kind of look Tolliver usually got - or that one time, when he’d given Fritz the birthday presents, it hadn’t been at him, no, but he’d smiled at the things he’d gotten for him, which had almost felt like the same thing. The senshi couldn’t help but grin back, toothily, and rather proudly. “C’mon. Fritz. That look on his face was ******** priceless, right?” He went ahead and took the other bit of fabric and made another small sound that was gruff, but might’ve been concerned, as he pressed it to Celsus’ neck. He wondered if it wouldn’t be better to tie it there or something, at least until they got home. But more importantly… Eurydike felt like he should say something. He fidgeted, struggling to say it, eyeing the knight’s neck intently. “I broke your door.” No. No. God. Why the ******** did he say that? “I put Crook in your room.” Okay. Still. Not what he was going for. He fidgeted again, clearing his throat, resisting the urge to cringe because ow that’d been a bad idea. “This is different. I mean, uh, your - glowy marks. They’re different here now. Or somethin’.” CELSUS Eurydike had said hold still, which was basically the equivalent of immediately move. Celsus jerked automatically under the pressure of the cloth against his temple and let out a hiss of pain, a breath shuddering out of him. “Ow.” Beneath the blood and the sweat there was a line that ran from Celsus’s forehead, down over his left eye and over the swell of his cheek. His glasses had been cracked, the frame bent obscurely. It was not, per say, deep, but it was still painful enough that every touch to it made Celsus’s stomach flutter with nausea. He bit it back, gritting his teeth together, and tried to think past the dizziness inside of his head. Swallowing hurt too, though not nearly as much as the facial injury. Really, the cut to his neck was a shallow, paper cut in comparison, more irritating than anything else, and it stung slightly as Eurydike tended to that one as well. Celsus closed his eyes momentarily, his breathing slowly, slowly starting to even out into something more manageable. They opened again a second later. “You did what now?” Celsus rasped, gaze narrowed. “Why - never mind. Well, as long as Crook is safe. ” He could sense the awkwardness from Eurydike, the tension that seemed to drag around him. Celsus remained still where he knelt, and his mind was still hazy and convoluted with whispers and thoughts, but he could sense the clarity, as though it was there, at the fringes of his thoughts. He would let Eurydike tell him whatever it was that he wanted to say; he would not force it out of him. A slight frown tugged at Celsus’s lips. “What do you mean, different?” he asked hoarsely, eyes fluttering a little as he struggled to stay coherent. “What’s wrong with them?” EURYDIKE “Sorry, “ he said quickly, quietly, in response to Celsus’ hiss of pain; it sounded heavier than it should have. It was technically for the pain he was causing, yeah, although honestly, it was for a lot of things. Things he couldn’t, shouldn’t even begin getting into now. At least his eye seems okay, the senshi thought to himself, although that injury was definitely the worse of the two. So, fine, then. It’d be the one to get special attention. “I’m cleanin’ that when we get back, “ he remarked gruffly, although his tone was warm, and he went ahead and simply tugged off his headband to try and see if Celsus could tolerate him tying it lightly around the wound - he wouldn’t be able to see then, but hey, bleeding and all that. It was what they always did when he ******** up his knuckles, so. He made a face at the door thing, flailing his hand rather uselessly in the air. “Hey, not my fault you left a totally ********’ fatalistic note on my ********’ door an’ then didn’t give me a key, jackass, “ nevermind he hadn’t been home for days before that and never mind getting into his place wasn’t usually a problem because he usually just went with Tolliver and why did they both need keys when they always went together and - His gut twisted painfully. Eurydike’s chest felt tighter than it had a minute before. He blinked rapidly a few times and tried to focus. “Nothin’s wrong, “ he insisted with a shake of his head - which again, was a terrible idea; one toss from the neck was like ******** hours of headbanging and a whole lot less fun, he’d decided. “They’re like, uh - bigger an’ - there’s like - a word?” Realizing quickly that he was absolutely s**t at describing this thing, he went ahead and did the smarter thing; he willed his senshi phone to him, snapped a photo, and turned it around for him to see instead. “There, y’see? Different.” CELSUS He knew what the word meant; that it was not just an apology for this moment, but for many. Celsus pressed his lips together, the expression on his face sober and subdued, as though he could feel the full weight of it all sinking down into him. He gave a wordless nod of his head, small and silent, the dizziness increasing with each movement. He did not shy away from the headband, or whatever it was that Eurydike was doing. Instead, Celsus remained where he knelt, his breathing now almost entirely back to normal, if not a little bit labored. The note.He’d forgotten about the letter; he hadn’t even expected anyone to see it or read it until after the fact, color starting to flood Celsus’s cheeks, his face suddenly stricken with the knowledge that Eurydike had read it. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, diverting his eyes and feeling the first flutter of panic rising, his heartbeat quickening. Tolliver has a key. Celsus could not say that, but he knew they were both thinking it. The words would not come properly. Celsus opened his mouth and then shut it again, eternally grateful, a second later, for the change in conversation. He glanced warily at the phone in Eurydike’s hand, and then reached out to take it, pushing his shattered glasses away from his face before he gave it up and just pulled them off entirely. And then, for a moment, he was lost for words. Two glowing, white bands were wrapped around his neck, parallel to one another, about two inches apart. They seemed to go above his Transcendence markings, standing out starkly against his freckled skin; and between them, words in a loopy, elegant script curled around his neck from front to back. Celsus could not read them at this angle, his eyes wide, his heart in his throat. “What the - “ Please.
I will pledge all that I am to Chronos and not despair again if we can live.
I am Celsus, Knight of Chronos. I have pledged myself and my life to the Princess and to serving this world to the best of my abilities, and no one will remove that from me, not even myself.Celsus’s mouth slowly shut, his head spinning. Wordlessly, he handed the phone back to Eurydike and then began to struggle to his feet, and he felt dizzy, overwhelmed by everything, his legs unsteady but his face determined. “We should go,” he said hoarsely, “We need to get Tolliver back.” His eyes flickered towards Eurydike, Celsus swaying slightly where he stood. “What do you plan to do? Are you…” He tried to find the right words. “Are you willing to work with me?” he said finally, Celsus’s expression not one of irritation or dismissal, but almost uncertainty, as though he wasn’t sure whether or not Eurydike’s declaration of I can’t get him back without you had just been a ploy to get him away from the general.
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Posted: Wed Feb 17, 2016 9:23 pm
EURYDIKE Eurydike didn’t understand; thanks to Thraen, he knew more, but there was still a lot about being a senshi, about all of this, that he simply didn’t yet understand. Those markings, the significance, what the new one on his neck might or might not mean - he didn’t know. He did, however, ease up with a look of concern as the knight hoisted himself up, lips parted, about ready to offer help or -- We need to get Tolliver back.A mixture of emotions flashed across the senshi’s face, ranging from sadness to guilt to hints of straight up fear. Then, the question, the what do you plan to do, and more importantly, are you willing to work with me?“Of course I am!” He hated how ******** easy it was to make him tear up since Tolliver’s secret had come out. He dragged gauzed knuckles roughly across his face as if that would do anything to help. It did little. He hadn’t meant to get that loud, either. “I - I mean - “ One of his hands dragged over his face, palm-first. “I made such a bloody ********’ mess outta this. I really did. I said all this stupid s**t an’ didn’t say what I wanted to an’ - an’ he didn’t ********’ believe me, he didn’t - “ Celsus didn’t want to hear all this. This just started be okay. Don’t ********’ push it, Logan. He drew a shaking breath and tried to compose himself; like that’d ever worked. “I don’t have a plan, no, “ his plan had ended up with him at the bottom of so many bourbon bottles and dangling off rooftops wondering how high it’d have to be to - yeah. “I really - I don’t know what to do. He thinks they’re ********’ good, an’ - an’ he took this b***h’s word over mine.” He pointed at his face, looking down, because Celsus had been there; did he really need to say more than that? (He still couldn’t help feeling there was no way this was some ******** coincidence, that Cinnabar had made that promise and then Tolliver -- ) CELSUS All it took was that singular moment. The flicker of emotions across Eurydike’s face was enough, in that moment, for any and all doubt to leave Celsus. It was clear enough without having the words spoken aloud what Eurydike’s feelings were - that, in spite of it all, the betrayal, the heartache, the agony, there was no question that Eurydike still felt as he always had about Tolliver St. James. It was reassuring, in a way, even if that reassurance was a little bittersweet at the same time. Celsus watched him, and did not comment on the overly bright eyes, or the struggle that Eurydike was clearly going through. All that mattered, really, was figuring out what the next step forward was. Celsus wasn’t even sure of that himself, but he was pushing past the dizziness and the haze to understand. “Eurydike,” said Celsus quietly, and he was looking at him with an almost contemplative expression, the wind ruffling through his uneven locks. He took a deep breath, and then exhaled it, visible in the chill air around them. “We’ll get him back,” he said, and in spite of the soft, wearied note to his voice, there was no doubt as to the conviction of his words. “We’ll find him, and we’ll bring him back. Cinnabar, you said is her name? I remember her, the youma lady, is it? We will call to her, we will figure it out, and we will get him back, all right?” He began to walk towards the edge of the rooftop, stopped, and then turned around once more, realizing that, in this instance, he would need a little guidance in getting down again. “Let’s go,” said Celsus softly, and once again, there was a small, gentle smile on his face. “We’ll retrieve my brother and your...future husband, is it..?” The smile did not falter. “Didn’t you say you had a wedding to prepare for?” EURYDIKE Celsus saying his name snapped him, for now, from his downwards spiral of thoughts, and the super senshi’s gaze had more than a trace of shame when he looked back up at the knight. It was the kind of look someone gave when they knew they’d done something wrong, and he’d lost count of how many missteps he’d taken since the knight had called him to the park that night - even before that, but if only he’d - We’ll get him back. The senshi drew a sharp intake of breath, and his gaze dropped again, nodding furiously. He didn’t say he was afraid of Cinnabar - he didn’t say that he was even more afraid that even if they did win him over, even if they did bring Tolliver back, that his lover could forget. He could forget the apartment and the couch and the flannels and the bourbon, the kisses and the promises and the adoration and the love between Tolliver St. James and Logan Hitchcock, and all that would be left was the hostility and the bitterness that had lingered between Cerussite and Eurydike, enemies, captor and captive. Once had been a fluke - more than that, no, it’d been a ******** miracle. Someone like Tolliver St. James would not fall in love with someone like Logan Hitchcock twice. That did not seem fair to say, though. Not to Celsus of all people. Especially not now. It was a thought that kept burning and burying itself deeper and deeper into his head and heart, but even with that - even with that, it was all for nothing anyway if Tolliver remained there, wasn’t it? Wasn’t the first step just trying to get him back? We will figure it out. He took a shuddering breath and bit down hard on his lower lip, easing onto his heels for a moment, trying to shake the surge of fearful negativity that’d rendered him all but ******** useless up until then. Well. Not totally useless, he guessed. Maybe not, since Celsus was still standing there, whole and talking to him and - Future husband.His breath caught in his throat, suddenly thick, and his gaze snapped up again, eyes wide as saucers. His heart pounded in his chest, a hint of color on his cheeks, and it was like just then it finally registered, the way the knight was smiling at him. His eyes burned for a moment. I swear to ********’ god if I get ********’ teary-eyed again I will ******** smack myself in the goddamn head with the can. The super senshi blinked rapidly and sniffed hard, shaking his head to try and shake it off. Eurydike was smiling though, a soft, tentative thing, trying hard to allow himself to be hopeful, because - If Celsus could say something like that to him after everything, then maybe - maybe - ? “Yeah.” He stepped forward with a shaking breath and offered the arm he had intended to before. “We do.” The super senshi chuckled, a bit of mirth in his dark eyes as he added, “You realize when we get him back, you’re stuck with me, yeah? - for the long haul an’ all?” Although he didn’t say it, because he didn’t know how, Eurydike made a promise to himself, then and there. Whether or not Celsus knew it, I will never, never doubt you again.CELSUS He saw it, then. The look of utter shock on Eurydike’s face, the way his head snapped up, the wide-eyed expression of mingled confusion and a stunned incredulity. Celsus had half expected it; and yet it sent a peculiar thrill through him, as though everything was steadily and slowly falling into place. Not the sort of satisfaction that stemmed from everything being perfectly arranged; but the sort of strange and unfamiliar interest as things shifted and developed into an unexpected picture. If he’d been closer, and his eye had not been hindered by the cloth and the blood, he might have seen the shine to Eurydike’s eyes; the overly bright shimmer to them, but really, he didn’t need to. For a moment, time seemed to stretch out between them, silent and easy; not the sort of stiff, painful tension that had been so present for so long. We will get him back, thought Celsus, as Eurydike began walking towards him. We will get him back, for the both of us.
That’s how it works, doesn’t it?Eurydike’s offered arm was slid around Celsus’s waist, and he settled his own around the man’s shoulders, albeit a little hesitantly. But it was the easiest and the least painful position for being assisted, and Celsus felt unbearably weakened by everything, his limbs trembling even at the smallest of motions. Celsus’s head was bowed, uneven strands of hair falling against his cheek; but he no longer had the ability to hide his expression from view with them. And at this point in time, he didn’t feel it necessary, even though he was sure he looked more than a little worse for the wear. You realize when we get back, you’re stuck with me, right? For the long haul?A soft, breathless laugh escaped Celsus, quiet and a little pained, but still a laugh, almost a chuckle. Celsus had slowed his steps for a moment, and his eyes, when he glanced sideways at Eurydike, were gentle. ‘Yes,” he said, “I know.”
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