synflux | [OPEN] Catch-all!

[ (If this is what it takes for her to stop implying you're holding back, then...

... Well, you are, but...

...) ]

Uh huh. I'll do my best to put up a good fight for you, Gebura.

[ Even if, from tonal implication, Siffrin isn't expecting to last long at all. They draw their dagger from their gloves, readying to do exactly as they'd always done when faced with that first Sadness, when their party began to notice the difference in skill--

Act. Feint and block the way they've seen in plays, and give enough of a show that Gebura'll be happy to accept what Siffrin wants her to accept. There's no reason for them to be as skilled or capable as a simple traveler, even if they'd become used to fighting Sadnesses on the road. ]

That's not exactly what I want.

[ Whether the fight is good or not, she doesn't care. Does she like a challenge, yes. Is that why she's doing this? No.

... There's something she's missing, a lack of understanding, like how she had known Roland was not simply a Grade 9 Fixer but not why, and if she doesn't have that answer, if she can't grasp what she knows she doesn't know yet, she can't possibly ever call him a--

Well. The thoughts don't matter right now. Gebura takes a deeper breath, and it's almost natural, to fall into laser-focused seriousness. She doesn't bother asking if Siffrin's ready, just waits for the moment she sees them settle into any sort of stance...

And charges.

She'd meant what she said. Every strike is nothing less than intent to harm, if it lands. ]

[ He knows.

She's as observant as Odile at times, and unafraid to say so -- it's bad, it's dangerous, Siffrin would be far more careful around her if she were trapped in those loops too... though at least time would unwind for some reason, that familiar pull in his stomach.

(It's fine, it's fine. Focus on the fight.)

Siffrin isn't surprised she's so fast, so strong, so decisive; it's no different than fighting the King, actually. The same overwhelming strength. The same presence of power. The same certainty that drives them.

Something he lacks. More dodging through "clumsy" luck, dagger glancing her blows poorly, nothing that might show the skill she'd want to expect from her suspicion. When Siffrin does strike for openings, it's always in a way that just misses, or scrapes by. Give shallow, receive shallow.

...

Crafts would be too dangerous, at least until they can understand her preferred pattern. ]

[ There's not much of a pattern, apparently. Unless "unrelenting" counts. If she becomes any kind of predictable, if she ever allowed for openings, something was wrong. But the attacks themselves are fairly straightforward. Not sly, not sneaky, not meant to disorientate, just... well. Brutal. She's not really willing to allow Siffrin to catch a breath.

But the observation persists, even as she lunges. She herself has barely had to dodge his strikes. And Siffrin, for all the clumsiness of his movements, for all appearances looking like he's struggling to fend her off, is still avoiding damage. Damage she is most certainly trying to inflict.

So Gebura wonders, with something faintly smoldering in the pit of her stomach, growing hotter by the second. And one swing is slower by one-fourth of a second, the most of an opening she's allowed. ]

[ "Unrelenting" counts. Siffrin would be too, if it were him. But it's far easier to simply make sure things look real enough, barely dodge and almost be nicked.

Openings are their strength. Siffrin sees it. Knows to take it, grip tightening, and

doesn't, seems to miss it entirely, tries to strike a different way they know won't hit, that leaves them open instead, that Gebura herself would be stupid not to take advantage of. ]

[ Oh.

So that's it.

Something flashes in Gebura's mismatched eyes then, two different shades to Siffrin's gaze, but the comprehension, the flash of something pained, then the anger--

That's all the same.

She reaches out, like she's on the verge of seizing him by the collar, but stops. Flat-out stops, despite the fury emanating off of her. Her tone is flat, but it's a forced kind of flat. The kind of flat one's tone would take if they were suppressing quite a bit. ]

Am I a joke to you?

[ The first bit of emotion in Siffrin's expression all fight is the sudden panic their one widened eye, swiftly cooled to confusion when no grab comes, when her tone suppresses itself.

They shift back, just a bit, despite the smile widening on their face. ]

Of course not. You're really strong, Gebura. I can't keep up at all... You really earned your title, even if you didn't aim for it.

You're a good actor, Siffrin. [ Her voice remains flat, even as that smile of theirs feels like a blade slipped between the ribs. It's been a while, but she remembers the sensation. Sudden, sharp. Difficult to process, in the moment, despite being aware of it. ]

If I hadn't caught you off-guard that one time, or seen you fight something you didn't think you needed to convince otherwise, or maybe if I hadn't spent years of my first life learning how to tell when someone isn't being entirely sincere so I could live another day, from day to day, or maybe if I didn't know exactly what it would be like if someone couldn't keep up with me--

[ Her voice has pitched lower, but it's also sharper. ]

If you didn't want to show me your full strength, you could have said as much. I would have been fine with that. At least you would have been honest with me. But this, the way you've been keeping up but pretending you're one step away from stumbling--

[ Something crumples, then. Briefly. Her expression, a bit. That fury inside of her. And it's been a hot second since she's felt like this, the exact same moment when Kali had sat there in her own apartment, the ropes tied tightly around her, waiting. Waiting for her trust to be answered. For there to be a reason why the people she had grown close to would turn against her, for this to make sense, when all along the answer had been "you were stupid enough to think that you could protect them when they never thought you mattered in the first place."

She hadn't wanted this. Not again. She'd almost started to believe that offering her hand hadn't been a mistake. That letting him get closer wasn't a mistake.

This time, it's Gebura who takes a step back, shaking her head. ]

I didn't realize you thought so little of me that you'd also think I was stupid.

[ You're a good actor, Siffrin.

(You feel your teeth grind.)

If I hadn't... If you didn't... At least you would have been honest...

(The words swim in, swim out.

Her hurt returns. The nights of gently reaching out, of talks, of understanding and curiosity and her)

I didn't realize you thought so little of me

(your stomach drops) ]

[ (you idiot you stupid moron you blinding waste of space did you think she wouldnt find out you know she isnt stupid why did you think for a second shed act it youre such a mistake youre

hahahahahahahaha

funny

huh

that shes still there

standing in front of you

looking sooooooooooooo

blinding

hurt, in such a small way

because of your and your stupid choices always your stupid choices

and you

cant

go

back

can you) ]

[ (no

you cant

your stomach hurts your face hurts your chest hurts your head hurts your head hurts your head hurts your hand hurts youre gripping your dagger) ]

[ (Oh.

Of course!

Your dagger!

It's so simple! So easy! A guarantee! You can't die, after all! You're the

You can't die! You feel yourself smile, relieved at remembering something useful for once in your blinding life,)

and with the ease of someone who's done this before, the curve of Siffrin's blade glints over his shoulder as he pulls it sideways-- ]

[ She's not sure what she expected. Maybe an excuse. Maybe a withdrawal. Things anyone who had spent their lives in the City would have offered.

But as soon as she sees the angle of his dagger, it clicks, and Gebura may roll her eyes over being treated like some kind of legend, but right now, it's that ability she'd honed, the skills that had granted her the title in the first place--

She doesn't think. Not right now. Mimicry clatters to the ground as she lunges at top speed. The only flesh the dagger meets is her own, biting into her palm as she grabs the blade, scarred fingers wrapping tightly around it. She barely feels it, honestly, for all that blood is dripping from her hand a few seconds later. ]

What are you doing?!

[ (...

Huh?)

Siffrin stares back, eye wide and genuinely bewildered, as if confused on. How. This could be. The blade hadn't scored him, the metallic scent of iron isn't his, and

(You must look so crazy, Siffrin. It's been a while since you'd seen a face like that, huh? Your family members had to watch you bleed out once, twice, a handful of times, didn't they. You'd stopped. Because you didn't like it. Because after they were your family members, it was worse. Because after they loved you, it was painful again.

It's painful now, too.)

Siffrin shrinks. ]

... I...

[ Trembling, letting go of the dagger, stepping back. No words come out, just a quickening of their breathe and their hands go to their hair instead, gripping in a way that must be painful-- ]

[ There's too much about this that doesn't make sense. How had Siffrin gone from smiling and assuring her that truly, she was just too strong, to panicking and aiming to end his own life? Because of her reaction?

And why had that motion been so practiced?

The dagger remains clenched in one hand until Gebura thinks to loosen her grip, reluctant to let it drop entirely. She can at least switch to holding it by the handle, so many questions ringing in her mind.

And she clearly can't ask them now, not while Siffrin looks like they're having a panic attack, and she can't just leave (she's always been bad at leaving), so one thing at a time.

One step at a time, rather, as she takes the first and stops in front of him. Quietly, firmly. ]

Take a breath. Hold it. Release it.

[ Four, seven, eight. ]

[ (You

breathe in, force yourself to hold it, exhale too quick. Try again.

You breathe in,

hold it,

hold it,

hold it,

exhale, when it feels too painful.

Why is she still here.) ]

...

[ Siffrin's hands loosen, a few already loose strands coming with, and he tilts his head down and away. Hat hiding, but not from embarrassment. The urge to pick at hangnails persists. The gloves keep him from it. Anything, anything, anything as punishment.

(You really don't know what to say. You don't want to see her expression either. Poor, pitiful Siffrin. The floor your only friend.) ]

[ She doesn't exactly want to have this conversation either.

But at the same time, she's aware that letting this go, of stepping back now... is only going to make this irreparable and if it still is, after she forces herself to make an attempt, then it is what it is.

Gebura takes a breath herself, ignoring her palm. Her expression has largely evened out, mostly because now isn't the time to show any more hurt than she already has. ]

Did you do that because of what I said?

... No.

[ Being caught isn't

what causes it, Siffrin knows. There's been times where he's slipped up. Or said something a little different. And it hadn't caused... but other times, it had, and Siffrin doesn't believe exactly why it happens, but there is a commonality. ]

It was... your face. The one you...

[ When she called him out, when she'd stepped back. Siffrin would have done anything to not see that. Almost did. But couldn't, wasn't allowed. Still isn't. Why won't it reset. He's really stuck, isn't he. He misses dying. ]

[ Because of her expression?

One more breath. ]

It's not the first time I've been underestimated, or maybe had the wrong idea on how someone felt about me. But it didn't feel great, coming from you.

[ Yeah, she hates this conversation already. ]

That doesn't mean I would have been okay with you using your dagger on yourself, though.

... It's not meant to hurt the people important to me. That dagger... is only for monsters, and me.

[ (might as well be one and the same) ]

And... I... would have been fine, once... you wouldn't have remembered, we could...

[ (still be companions?

laughable. who'd want anything to do with you.) ]

...

[ Stabbing himself wouldn't have killed him, but it would have made her forget? So was there some sort of correlation between that and...

... Like a failed scenario? Angela's memories, when certain objectives hadn't been met, when they'd broken without achieving resolution, then--

Gebura idly eyes her hand; the gash will scar, probably, but what's another one in the scheme of things? ]

Do you think I hate you?

[ (You flinch.

But you don't answer, because you remember she doesn't like it when people put words in her mouth. Because you know she doesn't like it when people misunderstand, or assume different.

You do think so, though. She must now.) ]

[ ... He's really going to make her say it, isn't he. ]

I'm pissed off and... [ uuuuuugh ]

... It hurt, a little, I guess. That you acted like it was in my imagination. But the [ annoying ] thing about giving a damn is that, despite that, I want to hear you out. I want to understand. And if it turns out that I was wrong and you don't care, it wouldn't be the first time. I'll go.

But I'm colleagues with the person who killed me and I haven't snapped Callisto's neck yet, either. If you want me to hate you, you're going to have to try a hell of a lot harder than hurting my feelings.

[ (you don't

want to hurt her

that's why you wish the world reset

like it always did before

but doesn't, now

you wish you knew why)

Rather than answer immediately, Siffrin crouches to the ground and brushes his trembling hand over it. As if searching for something. And, after a moment, he exhales, the hardened dirt cracking beneath his fingers, a gentle curl of plantlife surviving beneath ruin. It winds around his offered hand until it blooms, and the wanderer carefully unwinds it as he stands.

Very quietly holding out the bright flower to her. Dandelions always manage to live, no matter where their seeds might land. Hardy like the woman in front of them.

Oh, they are still unsteady. Light-headed and unable to look up at her, fearful. But it is still something offered. ]

... I don't... want you to go, Kali.

[ Purposeful, even if its quiet. Even if they aren't allowed to call her that anymore. ]

It's... complicated. Is all. I... shouldn't be, keeping up with you. Or anyone else. It isn't right.

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1/4

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4/4 attempted suicide

cw: blood

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