Skyla Arkin / Rose Chariot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magisperica) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thebastion2014-06-01 01:55 pm
magisperica) wrote in thebastion2014-06-01 01:55 pm
Entry tags:
[day 196/closed] Couldn't take the love I had, so weak and burning low
Who: Saix and Skyla
Open: Closed like a closed thing
When: Day 196
Where: The Skyway -- the Rippling Wall
What: Skyla decides to work out if she hates herself or the Bastion more and Saix drags her ass back where it needs to be.
Format: Any
Warnings: Blood, language, possible references to passive suicide (Skyla)
Open: Closed like a closed thing
When: Day 196
Where: The Skyway -- the Rippling Wall
What: Skyla decides to work out if she hates herself or the Bastion more and Saix drags her ass back where it needs to be.
Format: Any
Warnings: Blood, language, possible references to passive suicide (Skyla)
Skyla Arkin is, always has and always will be the president of bad ideas and the queen of self-destructive behaviours.
She hates this place so much that it turns her stomach and makes her mouth taste bitter all the time. She hates everyone else for being so happy here, she hates the world for not being able to hold itself together and most of all she hates herself for managing to make it to this place -- instead of someone more deserving. She doesn't belong here. Leaving isn't an option.
She's angry and upset and lonely and frustrated and a hundred other things that end in her marching her way onto the Skyway that morning without a weapon or any kind of plan other than "kill some things, make myself feel better". And of course that's not how it ends up working out.
By the time the Skyway is done with her, Skyla has found herself by the Rippling Wall, every inch of her body aching. She's covered heard to toe in bruises and scratches and her nose is bleeding freely, leaving a garish stream of crimson that's dripping all over her clothes. She makes a half-hearted attempt to halt the flow by wiping it with her hand, then her arm, but she only succeeds in making the mess worse and she gives up.
She doesn't give a shit anymore. She'll drag herself back to the Bastion when she feels like it. Or whenever she regains the strength to stand. Whatever comes first.
She hates this place so much that it turns her stomach and makes her mouth taste bitter all the time. She hates everyone else for being so happy here, she hates the world for not being able to hold itself together and most of all she hates herself for managing to make it to this place -- instead of someone more deserving. She doesn't belong here. Leaving isn't an option.
She's angry and upset and lonely and frustrated and a hundred other things that end in her marching her way onto the Skyway that morning without a weapon or any kind of plan other than "kill some things, make myself feel better". And of course that's not how it ends up working out.
By the time the Skyway is done with her, Skyla has found herself by the Rippling Wall, every inch of her body aching. She's covered heard to toe in bruises and scratches and her nose is bleeding freely, leaving a garish stream of crimson that's dripping all over her clothes. She makes a half-hearted attempt to halt the flow by wiping it with her hand, then her arm, but she only succeeds in making the mess worse and she gives up.
She doesn't give a shit anymore. She'll drag herself back to the Bastion when she feels like it. Or whenever she regains the strength to stand. Whatever comes first.
no subject
The voice is... well, a bit cold, but not necessarily hostile. Its owner is someone Skyla may have seen around the Bastion, once or twice, all business. That doesn't seem like it's changed much here, a black coat around his body and a rifle held in his hands. He still prefers his claymore, but he has this gun, so he's going to practice with it. His mismatched eyes glance across her bloody form with little if any emotion present.
"If this was just plain stupidity, then we ought to lock you in your room until you snap out of such a thing. No one has time to drag you from the brink of death. Come here." He holds out his hand, palm up.
no subject
"Not that I don't appreciate the concern," she replies, her tone suggesting the exact opposite "But if you're going to lecture me then you can shove it up your ass till you gag on it."
Despite her words, she lifts her hand -- it feels like her arm weighs a ton -- and grasps his hand, finally pulling herself to her feet. She lets out a hiss of pain as every inch of her body protests and then the pain eases after a moment, though she doesn't let go of his hand, as if she's worried she'll topple over if she doesn't have something to hold onto.
"Wasn't planning on dying, anyway. Just don't particularly give a shit either way."
no subject
Her wobbly state of being doesn't go unnoticed, and now that they're touching, he looks down at her hand. A single word is muttered. "Cure." With that, a slight magical light will go over her, taking care of most of the scratches and bruises. Anything worse than that, well, that will have to stay for now although it will hurt less.
"Better?"
no subject
"Fuck then, I guess I'm suicidal." she practically cackles and her voice is cloyed with bitterness and sarcasm. "I don't care, it's not like I'm any fucking use around here--"
Her words are derailed by another of those thin hisses -- this one of surprise rather than pain and it's a shock when the light washes over her.
The scratches and bruises just seem to vanish, and her nose, which had still been bleeding, finally seems to heal.
She's still achy to the bone and covered in dirt and blood but at least now she's not actively bleeding.
Skyla finally lets go of his hand and swipes her now free one under her nose, to get rid of some of the blood.
"... right. Like I was saying. S'not like I can do anything useful around here."
no subject
He raises his hand to sharply backhand the young girl across the face.
It's a quick and brutal movement, something guaranteed to hurt if she doesn't try to mitigate the damage in some way. Hit, no hit, Saix opens his mouth to speak up.
"You have fully functional limbs, don't you? Despite your best attempts at self destruction, you made it to this place and still are not dead. Venture out onto the Skyway, then, and collect the shards which power this place. Give them to me or another if you're too lost in your own self pity and misery to think of ways to use them yourself. Go to the kitchen and help with the cooking. Learn to tend to the beasts we have, or the crops we're working on. At the very least, I should think you know how to clean. And if all of that is truly above such a pathetic and weak heart such as yours, then learn. Did you think any most of the inhabitants of that place arrived knowing how to deal with the end of the worlds? They didn't, but they adapted."
There's almost a sneer on his lips now.
"Do the lives of those you cared for mean nothing? Would they want you to be such a weak hearted fool of a child, selfishly putting herself at risk instead of helping those who could use her? Would they want you dead? If you can honestly answer 'yes' or 'I don't care' to any of those, then I can settle things right here without any more foolishness by putting a bullet into your skull. That should rid you of your misery."
no subject
"Everyone I love is dead." she says after a moment in a flat, detached tone that holds none of the bitterness or the anger from moments ago. "And even if they weren't, they wouldn't care anyway. They think I'm a stranger. She slapped me as well. The same side, too."
She faintly aware that her words don't make any sense to him, distantly ashamed of the telltale sting of tears in her eyes but doesn't stop them spilling over and coursing down her cheeks.
"Fifteen, she would have been. She would've been twelve. She wanted to be a journalist."
Her sentences are getting more and more disjointed and all the strength leaves her legs. Slowly, Skyla lets herself ease down onto her knees, doubled up as if she's about to heave and vomit.
"Fifteen. Fifteen. I loved them so much. They were so scared. I wasn't going to hurt them. I just wanted to save them. Monster. Monster. That's what she called me."
no subject
This isn't the sort of thing a person like him should be dealing with, but he supposes he can't just leave her alone now.
"Join the club," he says dryly before he can properly stop himself. Since that won't exactly help matters, Saix moves on quick enough. "You've arrived at the Bastion. You know how many people are there. The number of even medium sized groups of people that are from the same world can be counted on one hand. Most are the only survivors of their respective worlds. You could probably pick any person there and talk about the experience." A scoff escapes him. "They'll probably be better at it than me, at any rate."
"And you're certainly not the only person who's been called a monster."
no subject
She knows that her words are ambiguous at best, but she doesn't care. She's talking to herself more than she is him, anyway.
"They should be here, not me. I asked, you know? Some kid in a scarf and she said 'timing'. Fucking timing. This place or me -- both of us have some pretty shitty timing."
She falls silent for a moment and then looks at him, her eyes very wide and suddenly very seriously.
"Would you do it? Kill me, I mean. If I asked you. Right now. With no one around. Would you just do it?"
I am so sorry for him
He could, and there's some inclination to just like he said he would at the beginning of this little encounter. She's a newcomer, so people might not even realize she's gone. Even with that, people go missing on the Skyway all the time. It's not even unusual by this point. But two things are in the way... The first being that it's finally hit him that this isn't someone with a heart would do so callously and without even thinking about it. Second...
"I was inclined to at the beginning," he says simply, "but now that I've had some time to think about it, there wouldn't really be any point in it for me, would it? I'm not getting anything out of your death, after all- I'm hardly any sort of sadist." That's a lie. He's actually something of a sadist quite a few times. "I doubt you've been here long enough to gather enough shards to buy your death... What have you done to really earn it? I don't know or care about the things that happened in your world."
this is so awful i love it
I doubt you've been here long enough to gather enough shards to buy your death. The implications of that catch her off guard, but not nearly enough as her instinctive response; how many would it take?
She knows she hates herself. She's been neck deep in self-loathing for as long as she can remember but she's never hated herself enough to want to die. But that was because there'd been hope, hadn't there? Hope that, by some crazy miracle or another, she'd stumble onto a world she could fit herself into (or maybe a nasty little voice at the back of her head pipes up you were stupid enough to think there was a chance that you could go home.)
"So you're saying," is her slow, eventual reply. "If I get enough of these shards -- if I'm useful for long enough -- you'll do it. You'll kill me."
who let either of them off their leashes
Good thing he has a few people in mind.
"Whether shards or simply work, you'll have to earn your death." With that stated, he pushes himself up to his feet and seems to take her in before offering a hand for her to get up. "Does that sound agreeable?"
a pair of terrible terrible people
She answers straight away, without thought, because she doesn't need to think. He's offering her a chance to be useful -- if only for a while -- and then an escape clause. It's an excuse, the perfect excuse that she needs to work herself sick, to work herself until she can't stand, even if she's not consciously thinking that way.
The realization of what she's agreeing to hits her again and a shudder goes through her. Skyla's never been one to step back and examine her thoughts and feelings -- she spends enough time struggling with them, fuck trying to analyse them -- and the fact that she's agreeing readily, eagerly to suicide by cop scares her.
But not enough to turn him down.
The hand that grabs onto Saix's is shaky but the grip is firm and Skyla slowly but surely pulls herself to her feet.
"You'll tell me." she says, her voice flat again. "Once I've been useful enough. Won't you?"
no subject
Although, he notes as she grabs his hand, it's hard to tell if that shaky hand is from exhaustion or nerves. He supposes he'll figure it out. It's a ways away to get back to the Bastion, after all. Plenty of time to figure out things about this girl. "I will. I already have some beings available at my disposal- I know well enough when they've served their purpose." He also keeps the Lesser Nobodies around because who knows when they'll be useful again, but there's no point in bringing that up again.
"You can walk?"
no subject
She's aware of a faint embarrassment at having been seen to just crumple like that, but it's swiftly followed by something akin to relief. She can be useful, just for a little longer, can't she?
"I can walk fine," she grunts, irritably. "Just point where."