come_sailaway | monday's child is fair of face (2/2)

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monday's child is fair of face (2/2)

CW: death, probably gore, possibly more TBA

[and that’s what you missed on glee.

and so, there “Friday” is, standing on the roof of the bar. the attention of the party has surely turned to her by this point, but she doesn’t care about that. she just needs one person to still be a little too distracted to stop what was coming next.

Monday snaps her fingers, and Jenny disappears from wherever she was standing before, reappearing directly in front of Monday, who embraces her from behind, an arm wrapped firmly around her middle. those with enhanced senses might catch what she whispers, seconds before she snaps Jenny’s neck so hard it hangs at a 90 degree angle as Monday kicks her, her corpse toppling forward onto the deck below.]

Surprise, bitch.

[well, there. unfinished business settled. onto more pertinent matters.]

Let’s get a little more comfortable first, hm? Can’t waste too much of her magic, but audiences love a quick change.

[she snaps her fingers, and Monday finds herself in an outfit that is far more to her taste. now. time for her grand performance.]

Greetings, foolish mortals! You may or may not have noticed that things have been a little bit different this month. While the Captain is off having a good old bitch cry about whatever it is he’s so upset about, poor little Friday was running herself ragged keeping this shitheap floating! She was so distracted, in fact, that she happened to have a little accident, while fixing something in the elevator shaft! [a laugh] I guess even clay bitches can break their necks! And there I was, sitting in Fucking Nowhere, doing Fucking Nothing, feeling Fucking. Nothing! And I saw her empty shell. And I was, like, hey, free real estate!

Whatever tear in the veil that your whiny little Captain just didn’t feel like fixing? I ripped that fucker right open. And you’ve all met a few of the sorry little fuckers that fell out already, hm? [another snap] Not all of them, but, hey, that’s what now is for, right? Because, see, we all kinda got together a little bit, and we were like… You know, just borrowing some shitty bodies to have some fun for a few weeks? What a waste! And we still have a lot of bitches we need to spring from jail!

And that! Is where you assholes come in! And, trust me, you are all assholes. Have you even seen some of the psychotic shit you people have said and done to us? Like, yeah, Mary is legitimately insane, but she’s still a kid! Even I’m not gonna call a fucking nine year old a bitch!

You can try to run, but I fucking hate running in heels, so I made that a little bit… difficult. So. Why don’t you nice people just lay down and let us kill you. I’ll be gentle. Promise.

[perhaps people have tried to flee already. they likely have. and they’ve found that the entire party area has been blocked off by the same sort of barrier that surrounds the realm, an invisible orb holding them captive.]

Now. Let’s get the actual party started!

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( By the time the Dioscuri happen upon "Rita", the floor has already collapsed by way of a blinding light that Castor could only recognize to mean that Pollux, too, was inside of the barrier. Blood may stain their armor and wounds dig deep in their skin, but now, they walk hand-in-hand as they survey the wreckage and violence below—searching, first and foremost, for familiar faces. The hope is that when they recognize them, they can lend their aid; unfortunately, it seems that they may have missed their opportunity, judging by the way Rita lies flat on her back against the rubble.

Castor nods his head in the direction to indicate it to Pollux before they make their way over, and he finds himself standing over her with crossed arms and a critical eye to her injuries. From what he can discern though, she is still breathing. There's a pause, and speaking up: )

Rita.

( Answer him...! )

( worse for wear, but their spirit cores are still in tact just like before all this happened. the expressions are ingrained in her memory, burned to the point that even now as she wanders through the rubble from what's shattered and destroyed, and it makes the appearance of the eterna look to be a battlefield than a cruise ship. blood and smoke lingers in the air, and then the thickness of the water sloshes as they make their way through it. she listens to her brother's voice first as a frown pulls at her face, where castor has no need to show such emotions, pollux makes up for it instead.

slowly she kneels down, inspecting the damages done to her body, and the rips in her perfect, but gaudy costume— someone came here first and handled business before they could, but isn't it already unfortunate that she had died before? her chest still raises up and down, barely, but enough that if fate is on their side then they could share a few moments.

she bites her tongue first, and then she reaches out to grab her hand to give a light squeeze in case "rita" is unable to hear, and perhaps her senses through touch are better. )

It is the Dioscuri, ( she takes a deep breath, a pain bubbling up in her chest that subsides only moments as she exhales. ) can you hear us?

[He stares upwards, unseeing and unhearing--vision filled with blinding bloom from the lightning that lanced through him, ears ringing from the accompanying clap of thunder. His heart--his real, human heart--feebly continues beating, but it's obvious it isn't going to last. His lungs ache with every breath, and yet...he wants to laugh.

Ha. Haha. What a fool he is, for so readily ignoring the limitations of this pitiful body...when freedom was right here, right in his grasp.

Vaguely, he thinks that perhaps he hears a voice over the ringing--and then gentle hands take his. Ah...this sensation... He squints, just barely able to make out two shadowy forms--tries to squeeze her hand back, yet all he manages is a twitch, as his head lolls in her direction. Oh, please...let his vision and his hearing clear, so he can see her face and listen to her voice before he dies... If he can do that, this won't have been for nothing...]

Martel...? Martel...you've come back...I did it...my sister...

[His voice is barely above a whisper, but he has to talk to her again--it's been so long.]

( At first, it's confusion that registers in Castor's expression. He's caught off-guard by the name, and there's something that gives under the word—sister... Even so, it's the context in which they're said that tips him off. To come back, to return to the ship; those are the goals of the ghosts who have made such pests of themselves here, and Castor has no pity for those who have tried to take what was never theirs to begin with. For the one inhabiting this body, too, he hasn't the kindness to sugarcoat the truth, and instead his lips curl in a sneer. )

Your "Martel" isn't here.

( But Pollux, she's already made her decision. Kneeling down in the water, Rita's hand in hers, and Castor isn't going to leave this place behind without her. Instead he hesitates before, reluctantly, bending down to one knee himself as he takes stock of the injuries Rita's body has sustained. )

Hush, Brother.

( those are words offered to castor without a second of hesitation, the last thing they want is to stir a spirit into lashing out. besides, knowing her brother, he won't die unless he's successful in whatever goal that he has in mind when it comes to her. that, and there's some spirits that can be spoken to even if she feels the same that she's not willing to compromise on any of the bodies here for them to have. she wouldn't mind finding them another, even if it had to be made of clay and stone, but the ones of recent passengers aren't allowed.

that "martel" isn't here to respond to him, and the dead silence that comes from another sibling weighs heavy on her heart as she knows it too well. why won't their other halves ever respond to them when it's important, when it's needed? she isn't her father, and so she cannot offer a choice to the spirit bene )

I am... ( her words linger into silence as she looks at "rita"s expression, the corner of her lips fall into a frown. ) sorry to see you in such a state, but your wishes and prayers will not go unheard.

[The spots of bloom in his vision are clearing enough to better make out their forms--not that the bodies matter, he thinks, as long as Martel's spirit is there...! Unfortunately, his hearing is also clearing enough to register Castor's retort.]

Don't...lie...!

[A convulsion interrupts his protest. There's blood coating his left side, both from a wound to his neck and from torn flesh on his arm, as well as another stab wound in his right abdomen; but it's the massive streak of lightning summoned by Jade that has him nearing death: there's burns, both visible and internal, but far more debilitating are his heart, which isn't beating with any regularity, and his lungs, which spasm every so often, interrupting his breathing.

How pitiful it is, to not be a lifeless being...

The convulsion calms, for now, and Mithos frowns at...Pollux, a name and identity supplied by the host's memory. Some sort of...spirit, it seems. If he had the energy, he would have killed her right then and there, a sublime host for his sister. If he had any strength at all, perhaps he'd sneer. As it is, his expression stays rather blank, save for a hint of a mirthless smile.]

Heh...if they were heard...she would never...

[Another convulsion. When it ends, he gasps for breath.]

I...can't fail...Martel... I'll...grant you...

[The hand in Pollux's grasp trembles violently, but is unable to direct any attack towards Pollux. He is...dying once more, and...no, no that can't be...he hasn't failed... He's going to get a better body! One that's not a human, one that's not weak or full of pitiful memories not his own.]

Heh...ha...haha...I won't...this won't...

[One of Mithos Yggdrasill's biggest failings, after all, is an inability to admit his mistakes. Even now...he refuses to admit his failure.]

Haha...haha...ha-!

[He starts to convulse some more. His death in imminent...but it won't be the end, he insists...]

Edited (LATE EDIT sorry adding the extra stab wound she got earlier...) 2022-10-29 20:46 (UTC)

( Denial. There's a denial to the reality of the matter in Rita's weak murmuring, her body has been made a mess amidst the chaos, and already begins to reject the spirit inside as it shudders under Pollux's touch. The last wish that hovers on the tip of her tongue isn't even one made out of desire to keep her own life—against his better judgment, the awareness of the crimes these spirits have committed against humans and gods alike, it's the desire to grant his sister a better fate that causes a pang deep in Castor's chest. Her trembling hand, the feeble attempt at laughter...

It's a pathetic display in all, but despite his best efforts, let it not be said that Castor is completely heartless. )

We shall hear them.

( Their wishes, their regrets, their failures—perhaps the gods can succeed where this spirit has been defeated. )

Your wish cannot be granted here, but know that you and Martel will not be forgotten.

( down into the water she sits, and her free hand slips underneath "rita"s head to position her skull against pollux's lap. she makes sure to tilt it up so that the other won't choke on whatever water or blood rests in his lungs, and offers a small reprieve so that maybe he can breathe better? she doubts it, as she can tell that this body is already withering.

she doesn't dare comment as her brother speaks, rather she listens to them both, and it hurts her heart that there's nothing that can do. they cannot bring martel here, but she squeezes her hand back to reassure him that she can feel the determination in his actions. whoever this person is, he longs for his sister, and pollux briefly looks to castor before allowing her gaze to drop down at the bloodied face of the individual under her. )

In turn, you must hear hers. ( her voice gentle, and her free hand settles against rita's forehead before brushing back brown locks, knocking away the vibrant kitty headband. ) She hasn't appeared here like you have.

( as horrible as that sound to be separated from the person he loves, pollux would hate the idea of it. she couldn't dare be from her brother. )

This isn't the place that you should be, so you must return to her. We will ensure that your soul is free of this vessel, and that she doesn't have to wait any longer. As a younger sister, my heart aches knowing the time you spend here takes away from the time that could be spent with her, hand in hand.

[The slight change in position does allow him to breathe incrementally better, when the convulsions give him a break. For a moment, his lips part, taking in Castor's words. Can't be granted?]

No...can't. Martel...see? With me...right here...

[After all, she's cradling his head in lap right this moment, just the way she used to...so, so long ago. He closes his eyes, but he can picture her soft face as she brushes his hair out of his face. His dear sister... He was right--she was here all along.

And yet... Return to her? No... Is she leaving?]

Where...? No...don't go...don't...again-

[Maybe it's from working himself up, but he convulses some more, heartbeat weak as a butterfly's fluttering--and then it stabilizes, for a moment, and he opens his eyes again. Sees Pollux's face. Maybe...he has a moment of clarity.]

A world...for us. No others. [Well. Genis and Raine would be allowed, but nobody else. Nobody will hurt them ever again. A faint, mirthless smile touches his lips.] Heh...do you...hear even...that wish?

[...Nobody else can grant that wish besides himself. Nobody has the power, the will to do it. He'll make it come true. He'll make it. He'll make it. He'll make it-]

...Heh.

[There's no convulsions this time. A twitch of his hand, and then his limp body releases its last sigh of breath.]

Edited 2022-10-29 23:36 (UTC)

( right here...

that sister of his that he's looking for isn't here, and every word he says consistently chips at her heart. it's painful, she finds, the loss of a sibling... the separation that they don't know if they'll ever be free. mikazuki had said they'll go back to being nothing, just the spirits that clean up their every day messes without knowing who they are, what they are, and so on and so forth.

she tries very hard to keep a frown from appearing on her face as her fingers comb through his hair. the sooner that the spirit diminishes, the quicker that they can have rita back? either way, it does hurt to know that such a spirit could take rita from them, that it would find a wound so personal that their wait for their friend would hurt this much for her. it could be that because she too waited for her sibling to return.

that's why she can hope that wish comes true, a world with just them— maybe out in the stars, where the darkness devours but they are the only two dots of light that exist. it sounds terrifying, but there's only a certain set of people that can value the bond of being with another person and no one else.

he sounds proud of himself with his last breath, and pollux finds herself silent, pained and in disbelief. these are such feelings she wouldn't want anyone to harbor, and to think that rita's body had to be part of such a gruesome feeling that poolux wishes she could have kept her from that too. it's cruel for these spirits to come and cause unnecessary motions in another person's body, but she's unable to write off those feelings either when it's one that sits in her heart naturally.

it's the hand that raked through brown locks that now cover rita's eyes, and pollux finds her eyes downcast now by her side. she has nothing to say. )

( The spirit that resided in this body is gone by now, and Castor knows it as well as Pollux. But perhaps these words are meant for her as much as they were for that spirit—a reassurance.

It's the most he can offer to either of them right now. )

We hear it.

( After all, is it not the stars that humans wish upon in their times of need?

They may not be the ones to make it into a reality, but then again, they never are; their world, their place within it, only the two spirits who want to see their wish brought to life can change that. Even so, it is the role of the Dioscuri to aid those in crisis. Perhaps they cannot save the life that has found itself in Rita's body, but the spirit, they can do something for. Together, the Dioscuri can return their fate to their own hands—they may not grant that wish, but they will hear it, and they will return this spirit to a place where it may be possible for them to achieve with their own will. )

Isn't that right, Sister?

( her feelings remain the same as always, the constant itch against her heart that never seems to go away; she can never reach the exact spot that she needs for comfort. her brother's words prove to be just enough which brings her to lift her head in response, eyes blink slow as if she's taking in what was said. her eyes fall down upon rita, her arms now slithering around the front of her chest as she pulls the body closer. )

Yes, we've heard everything.

( someone has to hear it, as it'll never fall on deaf ears, and while the dioscuri are aware of the wish that the other has... they can assist in their own way. it'll take time, but each and every moment will be of utmost importance to help guide those that live among this vessel, and also the ones that have no corporeal form. )

...

[...

The floor dropping was a moment of disorienting chaos; truth be told, Jade's still not entirely sure what actually triggered the collapse. Things had given out the moment he'd struck Mithos down with terrible lightning, but they hadn't been the only ones unfurling their abilities in the middle of the fight either. In the end, most likely, it was probably a combination of impacts...

But falling had ended up being a thoroughly distracting thing--for obvious reasons--and by the time the rubble and water had all settled...it had seemed that Rita's body must have tumbled at another trajectory entirely. ...On the one hand, at least, the chances of said body having survived the drop after taking the full impact of a Mystic Arte are incredibly slim. Yet, on the other hand, the need to be sure persists...and besides. Rita herself...cannot simply be rendered another ignoble corpse, to be left buried in rubble until Friday might finally be brought back to find her. Surely--she'd want her own body to be laid to a more dignified rest, at the very least, until it could be taken to the morgue. (Or maybe it's simply that Jade hates the thought of the alternative--the thought of leaving a friend behind like another fatality, piled aside on a battlefield...)

The search is slow and painstaking, picking around wreckage even as exhaustion's starting to drag down at his limbs, adrenaline wearing off and numbness taking its place. But after--some indeterminate amount of time, that Jade loses track of--several minutes, most likely, though it feels like hours...he does find himself spotting a pair of familiar faces. About as covered in blood as he is, if not moreso--and perhaps it wouldn't be unwise, to afford them a certain amount of wariness, in this uncertain frame of time where any of their number could still be possessed. But the Dioscuri twins appear to be poring over...a third, smaller person. Cradled in Pollux's lap, while Castor stands vigil beside them. ...It looks like...it is...

Jade hardly tries to attempt much in the way of stealth, as he approaches them. He's unarmed, his spear returned to his arm for the meantime, though the bloody signs of recent combat are still plenty visible on his person. The expression on his face is difficult to truly place, as he draws near...though it's certainly not happy. Something like a blank exhaustion, that pinches into--something else--as his glance falls first and foremost upon the girl in Pollux's arms.]

...Rita. Is she... [...The body is still. Perhaps the answer is obvious. But the question--the need to be sure--wells up all the same...]

Dead.

( It's Castor who answers the question first. Tired—exhausted, but matter of fact as he speaks.

Rita, the spirit that took her body as host—that vessel is no longer breathing, and so the both of them are gone for now. Castor doesn't so much as lift his gaze as he responds. Down on one knee with the other pulled up to rest his still-functioning left arm against, the makeshift bandage of bloody scrap cloth wrapped around his torso is more or less obscured by the position. But there's no hiding the way his right hand hangs limply at his side, wrapped in the same white cloth that has long since soaked all the way through with blood, to say nothing of the sorry state the rest of his body is in.

It's only after a moment's pause that he'll look to Pollux, sincere concern reflected in his eyes as she continues to delicately cradle the body in her lap. )

( pollux is bound in place where she is, not wanting to move as much with the damages done to her waist where blood seeps through her own bandages. there's a small line of blood that drips into the water underneath, but despite the blooming pain that throbs there she finds that her hold on rita doesn't waver. her head tilts down to look at the female, unfortunate that her body had to suffer such a horrible circumstance, and there was nothing they can do to prevent it. all they are left with are prayers, and a body cold to the touch that is meant to be a friend of theirs. this temperature doesn't fit her hot-headed attitude, it's unfamiliar, disheartening, but she will not take just having her body for granted. this is the closest she's ever been to rita after all.

pollux can feel the energy of another person coming closer, but they seem more friend than foe, an almost familiar presence that she confirms when her brother responds. it makes her wonder if he's worried about rita, or the person that once inhabited rita's body— does he know? )

The spirit that once lived inside has left, it seems as though... they suffered from a fatal battle. In turn, Rita's body was too fragile to handle the aftermath as they could hardly move.

( she can't even tell if that's good or bad, on one hand it managed to rid them of the spirit, but on the other hand... she's more susceptible to death, but all living beings are. )

[Jade draws close enough to be within hearing range, but comes no nearer once the twins begin responding, steps slowing to a halt. ...Even at this distance, granted, their voices still seem far away...even if he can at least parse the words said. For some reason, for a very long moment, it's terrifically difficult to look anywhere but at the familiar body still secured in Pollux's arms.

News of this body's death should be a relief. The captain had stated, from his perch at the edge of the hole now in the promenade ceiling, that it would ultimately be the only way to break the possessive hold of the ghosts upon their hosts. ...Yet the numbly dull ache in Jade's chest doesn't fade, at the confirmation; deepens all the more, if anything.

Yet again, in a span of weeks, he's failed to keep Rita safe. And this time--]

The battle was meant to be fatal, yes. I was the one who struck her body down. [The great strike of lightning, right before the collapse of the deck; Pollux may have seen it, perhaps, in Rithos' vicinity at that time. Jade's confirming ownership of it now, at any rate. There's no pride or satisfaction to the statement, flat and empty as it's laid.] ...Though I see it wasn't immediate, as I'd hoped. I--

[What is there to say? An apology? It would imply he regrets doing this--and he does not. Cannot. But...

The words catch in his throat, in the end. With a great deal of effort, he tears his eyes away from the body, tries to at least make eye contact with Pollux. ...The fact that both she and Castor are lingering beside her here, like this...]

--You two are friends of hers?

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monday's child is fair of face (2/2)

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