begging my god to make the wheels go 'round
#1
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The sickness hadn’t made her want to leave. Not within itself, at least. She could care less about what befell her in a certain place, but it was what the illness had stirred up and left behind that bothered her. Now, day and night, she was besieged by memories that she thought she had left far, far behind her. There were mixed feelings of reproach, loathing, curiosity, and, at the very core, guilt. A lot of guilt. Guilt that threatened every night to reach out and swallow her whole. She had left behind a life when she had left the city, as well as many she imagined she had cared for. Now she would see their faces dangling before her like objects on a mobile, and she didn’t know what she wanted anymore.


The rains had still not subsided around the land known as ‘Souls, but her sickness had mostly cleared. She still felt weak – both physically and mentally – at points in time, but the more apparent and dangerous side-effects had cleared indefinitely. She was getting better, and the thought of an early grave now seemed laughable and intangible. This only made her more anxious for her future, however. Was she going to stick around here? The obvious answer would be yes. Why, especially with all of these negative feeling crowding within her? The answer was, in a word, Laurel.


She couldn’t ever put a definition on the relationship that bound them together. She wouldn’t even begin. The mere thought of having to leave him for any part of time was, oddly enough, totally repulsive to her. They had only been traveling together for around a year, but still, there was something about his company that she craved more than any other’s. Which made this decision even more hard. She would surely be engulfed with the shadows of the past if she didn’t leave, but she’d tear her soul apart in leaving. Nikita swallowed heavily, frowning as she stared into the mist that silently drifted into the camp. It was early morning – very early morning, to where the sun was barely beginning to shed light into the waking world. She had been watching the camp without aim, mostly getting her thoughts in order. Her mind, no matter how muddled, was already made up, but that didn’t mean this was any easier. The mere thought of moving to speak to him tore at her like knives, but she couldn’t simply remain inactive. She knew he was probably still sleeping, or at least still in his make-shift shelter – she would have noticed if he had left, seeing as though she had been gazing at the camp most of morning. With a heaving sigh that made her ribs ache, she stood and approached.


Standing impassively a few feet from the entrance, she frowned and deliberated for a moment more before stepping forward and intoning, “Laurel?”
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#2
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It was considerably colder, to the point that he didn't care for it much. For a man who had been used to wandering the deserts, the eastern Canadian weather had been unkind through the latter part of the autumn. The winds picked up, the rains died down, and the chill in the air was definitely there. Laurel was half-awake when Nikita's voice filtered down through the morning quiet; her shape was a silhouette against the back-lit surroundings as he sat up. Though his bearings weren't entirely there and he had an ever brewing headache to follow motion, he was well aware of the tone of her voice. Answering her first with a muffled sound, he cleared his throat to speak. “What's wrong?”
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#3
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Her throat clenched and her stomach churned at the sound of his voice, and a sudden flash of forgetfulness beset her. But only for a moment. She regained herself after a moment, however, and without much time between to really formulate her reply she merely presented the truth in the most blunt and precise way she could, “I think I’ve got to leave.” She swallowed bitterly, her gaze falling to the ground in front of her feet. Only a few weeks prior had he asked her if she wanted to leave, and she had vehemently said no. Now she felt like the biggest asshat in the world, going right back on what she had said she wouldn’t. “I left some things undone in the past, and I think I need to go and try to deal with them now.” She was stronger now – her time with him had made her such. And yet she had no idea how she would deal with Patriot… but those things would come with time. And now was the most dangerous part of this discussion that she had foreseen – his reaction. Indifference would perhaps cut her the deepest, she imagined. She liked to believe that Laurel relied on her in some small way from the past year or so of traveling together, though one could never know with him. So she merely bit her lip with unshielded anxiety and waited for a reply from the darkened tent.

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#4
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He was quiet for a moment, taking things in. It was a little unexpected, but he supposed that she had her reasons and he wasn't much for questioning what others did. “Okay…” he answered her, albeit quietly. “You gonna be okay going alone?” It was that timid resolve in her voice that made him wonder, thought that could have been directed at him. As much as he didn't want her to go, it wasn't his place to tell her to stay either and not everyone was capable of shedding the past, either. Through the sickness that had been around, it seemed like those that had gotten close enough to get it had lose the lines between past and present, so it came as no surprise to him that some inhabitants of their camp had fled.
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