[ she speaks to him gently -- with longing. with remorse. he swallows down a wail. gnashes his teeth hard enough to stress his jaw. the fingers wound around the hilt of his blade quake violently, and before he realizes it, Durandal has fallen and clattered against the floor. it echoes throughout the hollow of this cavern, of this wretched nest. ]
Why are you saying my name like that... [ his hands brace against his head, cradling it desperately. ] No, I killed you... I lied to you... spat the cruelest words imaginable at you like venom... I wanted you to kill me... but you smiled instead. Even now...
[ one of his hands maneuvers towards the mask; his fingers stop shy of one of its ridges. they're still shaking, as if he were a child. ]
I don't know how to take it off anymore. [ a minute stretches out between them as if it were an eternity. roland slumps forward, inclining his head towards her. ] ...
[ he gives her an option -- offers her a neck to crush beneath her fingertips or a face to unveil. a pathetic, filthy, ragged face, but the face of her former servant no less. ]
[ it is a set of options she could only ever indulge in when dreaming, when wishing, when praying. the loneliness and the ghost of him and his hatred haunting her— he had died like this before. mask on, face concealed. a "thing." an "absence." lacking. in that way, she could have projected anything upon that mask. anger, misery, pain... but they were her own feelings.
she never really knew roland's feelings.
in her chest, her heart is a bird. wings fluttering desperately, fighting against the cage, wanting to flee and explore. it's painful, deeply so, agonizingly so. angela's heart beats with fear. does she deserve this? it's true; he had died crying out the most loathsome things he could... but it was easier before... to simply make her own selfish decision.
would it be a disgrace to roland if she looked? it's a neat play. easy, simple. straight to the point. wrap her hands around his throat, squeeze, crush his windpipe, watch him die again. wouldn't it be a better apology than this?
when angela raises her hand, it is with a decidedly human grace. more ballerina than robot, and it is with that graceful movement that she slips her fingers under the lip of his mask, finding the skin of his face in her palm. warm, bony. alive. she could wretch in anxiety. ]
As I said before. I am not making the same mistake, Roland...
[ she was going to pick this. angela removes the mask to expose his naked face to the world again, to let the dusty, ghostly air of the abandoned looking library caress his cheeks. it is not where they ever planned to end up, but after years of solitude—
roland and angela look at each other's faces. a little older, sicker looking, but it is the two of them. ]
I wanted to see it at least once more... now that I have it in my grasp, I'm not letting it go.
[ his face? perhaps. she means him; her precious, dearest friend. ]
[ in the pits of his heart, he knew she would do this. time slows, inch by inch, as she delicately rips his mask away. would she be revolted? deny him once as she already had, allegedly? he could hardly envision what remained.
but the light floods into his periphery, and her eyes bore into his, claws coveting his jaw. he is a weak man; always has been. and so a weight spatters against his own cheek, and he realizes there are tears flowing from his eyes in a neverending stream. ]
I regret it everyday. [ he says in a quieted breath. ] My choice. The loss of you. O, my sorrow... you are better than a well beloved.
[ as the tears gradually slow, he looks to meet her gaze blearily. there is warmth emanating from her body; so it seems she had achieved her wish. and yet her cheeks are pale with death. ]
...In the end, it's just you and me again, isn't it? [ a weak, miserable laugh. ] Okay. I'll take it.
[ empathy is a strange emotion. the release that comes with seeing someone like him, someone so dear and precious to her, weep like this before her hits angela like a bat to the face. her other hand comes up to cup his cheek, to let his tears rain down over her metacarpus like baptism waters. her amygdala shudders. she's almost afraid to hold him too close, to listen to his voice. as if this were a confessional, she speaks again, eyes watery and gaze misty as his face, hollow and empty, swirls and blurs like melting watercolors before her. ]
It's been thirteen years... a human mind doesn't remember as well, but it's almost to the day now, isn't it? [ another beat passes, an echoing sort of silence full of absolutely nothing but them two in their aging agony and grief. ] Roland. I'm sorry, too.
[ she is silent for a moment longer before blinking and looking away, down, ashamed. ] Even though my wish came true... the first thing I ever felt as a human was regret. This body lacks meaning without the person who fought with me by my side.
[ a sparkling resolve lights up her face for just a moment, her voice quick and cutting. ] I've seen enough.
[ she pauses a moment, her taloned fingers flexing on his cheeks, watching him sob. ]
[ he relishes that comfort — nuzzles his face into her embrace, trying to capture every inkling of her warmth. her touch was real. different, but real. ]
I don’t know how the hell this happened, [ his palm settles over her black hand, and his fingers clasp around it as if to hold her against him. ] But I’ll be thankful for this miracle, this one time… [ his breath hitches on the verge of a sob — but he stops himself, and musters the strength to smile faintly. a light that has been smothered by the darkness, but has been revived with the smallest of embers. ]
…It’s been less time for me. I just… [ a breath. ] Lost my mind is all. But you’ve… you’ve been alone this whole time. [ again. he left her to be alone again. and despite everything — she forgives him. wants him. ] … I’m here now, Angela.
[ it takes her a moment to consider it, how he's here despite it all. to one another, the other is dead, killed by their own hands... for revenge, for freedom, to not be held down. in her silence, however, she accepts it as much as he does. this miracle is something they could only have now. ]
The library brings those here who are searching for something. A wish great enough to span time and space. I wonder what it would look like? [ like this? is implied in her tone. ]
You asked why I smiled. [ her hands fall, fingers curling gingerly. she's become human, but something else, too. a star; something grander than anything and yet... ] ...If I had the chance to do it over... that's what I would have done. Smiled, and accepted your anger. It was the only way to ask for forgiveness.
[ even now, she thinks, maybe that is the only way. ]
I should have known better, [ he speaks through a labored breath. ] I knew -- that killing you wouldn't have done anything for me. But I was afraid. Afraid that the pain and joy would have meant nothing if I didn't. I was a... [ he clenches his jaw, eyes lowering. ] Fucking idiot. I should have forgiven you. Maybe we... should have forgiven each other. But I guess that's why we're here now, huh?
[ roland finds his footing, stumbling backwards and rising up on his heels. he extends a gloved hand -- beckoning it towards angela. with what little strength in him that remains, he cobbles together just enough for the corners of his mouth to curl upwards, eyes softening. ]
Not sure what we should do but... you're human now. Might as well make the best of it.
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croftmanor2022-06-11 10:53 pm
no subject
Why are you saying my name like that... [ his hands brace against his head, cradling it desperately. ] No, I killed you... I lied to you... spat the cruelest words imaginable at you like venom... I wanted you to kill me... but you smiled instead. Even now...
[ one of his hands maneuvers towards the mask; his fingers stop shy of one of its ridges. they're still shaking, as if he were a child. ]
I don't know how to take it off anymore. [ a minute stretches out between them as if it were an eternity. roland slumps forward, inclining his head towards her. ] ...
[ he gives her an option -- offers her a neck to crush beneath her fingertips or a face to unveil. a pathetic, filthy, ragged face, but the face of her former servant no less. ]
no subject
she never really knew roland's feelings.
in her chest, her heart is a bird. wings fluttering desperately, fighting against the cage, wanting to flee and explore. it's painful, deeply so, agonizingly so. angela's heart beats with fear. does she deserve this? it's true; he had died crying out the most loathsome things he could... but it was easier before... to simply make her own selfish decision.
would it be a disgrace to roland if she looked? it's a neat play. easy, simple. straight to the point. wrap her hands around his throat, squeeze, crush his windpipe, watch him die again. wouldn't it be a better apology than this?
when angela raises her hand, it is with a decidedly human grace. more ballerina than robot, and it is with that graceful movement that she slips her fingers under the lip of his mask, finding the skin of his face in her palm. warm, bony. alive. she could wretch in anxiety. ]
As I said before. I am not making the same mistake, Roland...
[ she was going to pick this. angela removes the mask to expose his naked face to the world again, to let the dusty, ghostly air of the abandoned looking library caress his cheeks. it is not where they ever planned to end up, but after years of solitude—
roland and angela look at each other's faces. a little older, sicker looking, but it is the two of them. ]
I wanted to see it at least once more... now that I have it in my grasp, I'm not letting it go.
[ his face? perhaps. she means him; her precious, dearest friend. ]
no subject
but the light floods into his periphery, and her eyes bore into his, claws coveting his jaw. he is a weak man; always has been. and so a weight spatters against his own cheek, and he realizes there are tears flowing from his eyes in a neverending stream. ]
I regret it everyday. [ he says in a quieted breath. ] My choice. The loss of you. O, my sorrow... you are better than a well beloved.
[ as the tears gradually slow, he looks to meet her gaze blearily. there is warmth emanating from her body; so it seems she had achieved her wish. and yet her cheeks are pale with death. ]
...In the end, it's just you and me again, isn't it? [ a weak, miserable laugh. ] Okay. I'll take it.
[ a long, long beat. ]
I'm sorry. For all of it.
no subject
It's been thirteen years... a human mind doesn't remember as well, but it's almost to the day now, isn't it? [ another beat passes, an echoing sort of silence full of absolutely nothing but them two in their aging agony and grief. ] Roland. I'm sorry, too.
[ she is silent for a moment longer before blinking and looking away, down, ashamed. ] Even though my wish came true... the first thing I ever felt as a human was regret. This body lacks meaning without the person who fought with me by my side.
[ a sparkling resolve lights up her face for just a moment, her voice quick and cutting. ] I've seen enough.
[ she pauses a moment, her taloned fingers flexing on his cheeks, watching him sob. ]
...because I am certain you will never leave me.
no subject
I don’t know how the hell this happened, [ his palm settles over her black hand, and his fingers clasp around it as if to hold her against him. ] But I’ll be thankful for this miracle, this one time… [ his breath hitches on the verge of a sob — but he stops himself, and musters the strength to smile faintly. a light that has been smothered by the darkness, but has been revived with the smallest of embers. ]
…It’s been less time for me. I just… [ a breath. ] Lost my mind is all. But you’ve… you’ve been alone this whole time. [ again. he left her to be alone again. and despite everything — she forgives him. wants him. ] … I’m here now, Angela.
no subject
The library brings those here who are searching for something. A wish great enough to span time and space. I wonder what it would look like? [ like this? is implied in her tone. ]
You asked why I smiled. [ her hands fall, fingers curling gingerly. she's become human, but something else, too. a star; something grander than anything and yet... ] ...If I had the chance to do it over... that's what I would have done. Smiled, and accepted your anger. It was the only way to ask for forgiveness.
[ even now, she thinks, maybe that is the only way. ]
no subject
[ roland finds his footing, stumbling backwards and rising up on his heels. he extends a gloved hand -- beckoning it towards angela. with what little strength in him that remains, he cobbles together just enough for the corners of his mouth to curl upwards, eyes softening. ]
Not sure what we should do but... you're human now. Might as well make the best of it.