04-19-2008, 04:43 PM
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Ahren. Queen of Piety Cemetery. [WC: 1033]
ETA: Fucking computer has overheated three times while I was writing this, and I lost over half of it. Grrr. I hope you appreciate this! <33
She had thought of going to see him. Really, she had. A couple of times, in fact. Hard to believe, the things he'd said last they'd spoken, the way he'd... Hell. The way he'd what? It had mostly been her, truly. Yes, he had reacted, but it was to be expected. Nobody held their temper perfectly, and he certainly had held his well, considering. All the time she'd thought him such a monster... but was he? She couldn't be entirely too sure. It had been an ongoing battle within her mind; was it him, or her? Perhaps she had only built him in her mind, because of what she'd heard, the nightmares she'd grown up hearing. Maybe she'd given him a personality that didn't particularly belong to him, but to what he'd been described as, and what she'd seen him to be. Once, she'd seen it, but she was afraid. How bad had it even been? She remembered pain. Her stomach had been caught on a dozen blades, it had seemed.
'You's a monster,' she'd told him. Disgust filled her. 'A... A FUCKING MONSTER!' It had been the first time she'd ever used that sort of language. She had rarely ever heard it; only from Aiji when she thought her daughter wasn't around. And him... 'I did mean what I said. I’m not going to deny what I did…or that it was my fault. I’m really sorry, Aiji... I’m not going to do anything else to hurt you, or her.' He's said that. Stood there, hesitating and keeping his distance. 'I want to try and make up for it... I want to do something... to make up for it.'
He couldn't make up for it. Aiji hadn't let him... he hadn't really deserved it, to Aiji, but even so. She had tried. 'I fully accept your apology, and I would like for you to be a part of Anya's life, because she desperately needs you. She needs a father, Ahren.' Of course she'd needed a father. Desperately. Like her mother had said. But she hadn't gotten one. Her father... she'd wanted to call him something. Tried... but it didn't feel right to call a male she barely knew, 'daddy.' 'Call me what you want,' he'd said. She had, many times. The first... a monster. 'Your family, Anya, isn’t one whose history is idyllic.' She sighed softly, remembering. "Neither is mine, now," she whispered softly.
The sound was a mistake. Someone had been lurking, had heard her. She was immediately up from her seat against a grave stone; a place she'd come to think. To think about how dead she was inside, just like the humans buried beneath the ground were on the inside and the outside. Not so idyllic, eh? She knew what that was like... but she'd never really thought of his words until now. Two years later. And now she remembered. Both of them had spoken to each other as if she wasn't there, or wasn't important enough to address. Now, others paid attention, sometimes... some more than others. Her eyes met those of what looked to be a very angry cougar, and her hand went to her back, unclipping her dagger and slowly pulling it out of the sheath. She moved backwards, nearly tripping over a grave stone as she tried to slip away. Stay quiet, stay slow, stay steady. One step... then another... then an– "Unnhhf!" She'd backed into a much taller grave stone. Sod's law.
"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong — and at the worst possible moment."
Clearly, the cougar saw his chance, and launched himself at the canine girl, who didn't need more than the split-second pause to throw her body to her right. As the cougar went to swipe a claw across her, her body was moving the opposite way, and claws caught flesh and pelt, from shoulder to chest. Her body winced, and she rolled across the ground, shirt torn and jacket damaged, blood trailing across both to leave a stain. She paused only but a second before the adrenaline of the wound flooded her body, and she felt nothing but dull tingling where the searing had been. She was up within another second, dagger now held by her side, toward the feline and held in a firm grip meant for killing. Her eyes burnt a deeper red than the growing stain on her shirt, which despite her lack of attention to it, had not ceased spreading further. He'd gotten her deep. She had just minutes before the blood loss, if it didn't stop, would weaken her into unconsciousness.
Even if she'd noticed, she had no time to think about this. They circled, each preparing for the other's next move, each deciding a strategy. Anka knew she couldn't run. Fight or flight, and flight was out. Fight she must, and would. After everything, her mother, her father, her life, the past, the fire, and for the present, and the future she insisted on having, for the many things she had to take care of, many issues to settle, many new places to see and friends and enemies and maybe even lovers to be had... she would not die now. 'Aiji couldn't kill me. Ahren couldn't kill me. Packs couldn't kill me, animals couldn't kill me, even the curse my brothers fell to couldn't kill me.' Of course, she meant the other two that hadn't made it into this world alive. Her face twisted into a grin, and she laughed softly. "Hey, c'mon, li'l kitty-kitty," she taunted it softly. "Nobody's been able to get me yet. I'll take your best shot... or are you a pussy?" Irony. How cute.
It was the wrong thing to say, or maybe the wrong tone, or the wrong time, or just an ironic time. Whatever it was, he was on top of her before she saw him move, her perception slowed by the blood loss, and she didn't have that extra moment to move this time. He loomed above her, and instinctively, she screamed. Then, with the air gone from her lungs, she spoke softly, laughing weakly in the face of her certain death.
"Fuck you too, then."
Ahren. Queen of Piety Cemetery. [WC: 1033]
ETA: Fucking computer has overheated three times while I was writing this, and I lost over half of it. Grrr. I hope you appreciate this! <33
She had thought of going to see him. Really, she had. A couple of times, in fact. Hard to believe, the things he'd said last they'd spoken, the way he'd... Hell. The way he'd what? It had mostly been her, truly. Yes, he had reacted, but it was to be expected. Nobody held their temper perfectly, and he certainly had held his well, considering. All the time she'd thought him such a monster... but was he? She couldn't be entirely too sure. It had been an ongoing battle within her mind; was it him, or her? Perhaps she had only built him in her mind, because of what she'd heard, the nightmares she'd grown up hearing. Maybe she'd given him a personality that didn't particularly belong to him, but to what he'd been described as, and what she'd seen him to be. Once, she'd seen it, but she was afraid. How bad had it even been? She remembered pain. Her stomach had been caught on a dozen blades, it had seemed.
'You's a monster,' she'd told him. Disgust filled her. 'A... A FUCKING MONSTER!' It had been the first time she'd ever used that sort of language. She had rarely ever heard it; only from Aiji when she thought her daughter wasn't around. And him... 'I did mean what I said. I’m not going to deny what I did…or that it was my fault. I’m really sorry, Aiji... I’m not going to do anything else to hurt you, or her.' He's said that. Stood there, hesitating and keeping his distance. 'I want to try and make up for it... I want to do something... to make up for it.'
He couldn't make up for it. Aiji hadn't let him... he hadn't really deserved it, to Aiji, but even so. She had tried. 'I fully accept your apology, and I would like for you to be a part of Anya's life, because she desperately needs you. She needs a father, Ahren.' Of course she'd needed a father. Desperately. Like her mother had said. But she hadn't gotten one. Her father... she'd wanted to call him something. Tried... but it didn't feel right to call a male she barely knew, 'daddy.' 'Call me what you want,' he'd said. She had, many times. The first... a monster. 'Your family, Anya, isn’t one whose history is idyllic.' She sighed softly, remembering. "Neither is mine, now," she whispered softly.
The sound was a mistake. Someone had been lurking, had heard her. She was immediately up from her seat against a grave stone; a place she'd come to think. To think about how dead she was inside, just like the humans buried beneath the ground were on the inside and the outside. Not so idyllic, eh? She knew what that was like... but she'd never really thought of his words until now. Two years later. And now she remembered. Both of them had spoken to each other as if she wasn't there, or wasn't important enough to address. Now, others paid attention, sometimes... some more than others. Her eyes met those of what looked to be a very angry cougar, and her hand went to her back, unclipping her dagger and slowly pulling it out of the sheath. She moved backwards, nearly tripping over a grave stone as she tried to slip away. Stay quiet, stay slow, stay steady. One step... then another... then an– "Unnhhf!" She'd backed into a much taller grave stone. Sod's law.
"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong — and at the worst possible moment."
Clearly, the cougar saw his chance, and launched himself at the canine girl, who didn't need more than the split-second pause to throw her body to her right. As the cougar went to swipe a claw across her, her body was moving the opposite way, and claws caught flesh and pelt, from shoulder to chest. Her body winced, and she rolled across the ground, shirt torn and jacket damaged, blood trailing across both to leave a stain. She paused only but a second before the adrenaline of the wound flooded her body, and she felt nothing but dull tingling where the searing had been. She was up within another second, dagger now held by her side, toward the feline and held in a firm grip meant for killing. Her eyes burnt a deeper red than the growing stain on her shirt, which despite her lack of attention to it, had not ceased spreading further. He'd gotten her deep. She had just minutes before the blood loss, if it didn't stop, would weaken her into unconsciousness.
Even if she'd noticed, she had no time to think about this. They circled, each preparing for the other's next move, each deciding a strategy. Anka knew she couldn't run. Fight or flight, and flight was out. Fight she must, and would. After everything, her mother, her father, her life, the past, the fire, and for the present, and the future she insisted on having, for the many things she had to take care of, many issues to settle, many new places to see and friends and enemies and maybe even lovers to be had... she would not die now. 'Aiji couldn't kill me. Ahren couldn't kill me. Packs couldn't kill me, animals couldn't kill me, even the curse my brothers fell to couldn't kill me.' Of course, she meant the other two that hadn't made it into this world alive. Her face twisted into a grin, and she laughed softly. "Hey, c'mon, li'l kitty-kitty," she taunted it softly. "Nobody's been able to get me yet. I'll take your best shot... or are you a pussy?" Irony. How cute.
It was the wrong thing to say, or maybe the wrong tone, or the wrong time, or just an ironic time. Whatever it was, he was on top of her before she saw him move, her perception slowed by the blood loss, and she didn't have that extra moment to move this time. He loomed above her, and instinctively, she screamed. Then, with the air gone from her lungs, she spoke softly, laughing weakly in the face of her certain death.
"Fuck you too, then."
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