Ailments

Re: Ailments

Postby Tolleson » Thu Jan 30, 2014 6:16 pm

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Re: Ailments

Postby Tolleson » Thu Jan 30, 2014 6:17 pm

Her muscles are stuck as she fights back her own mind and the outpour of energy. For as still as her body was her mind was bearing an incredible load, suppressing the emotions lest they impress upon others unwillingly. Not knowing, of course, this was not how Gloria was changed. Catch speaks to her and tries to offer what he thinks is comfort. But when her eyes finally open the expression she wears is strained. “I… I… I-I-I… I” No other word seems to come out and her brows furrows further, “I… I…” Closing tightly again she lets free an enormous frustrated sob, that leaves her gasping for air. “I-I… I.. I” These were meant to be other words, these repetitions were meant to be something else than they were. The muscles in her neck seem to strain against an enormous force as she struggles to face them, to focus her eyes on the two, the girl and the wildling.

No.

“I.. I…” Her voice sounded angry, defensive, yet pleading to Gloria and mostly, to Noura.

With her muscles slowly beginning to respond she stiffly returns her eyes to Catch, loosening her hold on him and shaking her head. No. No.

“I… I… nnnnnnnnnnNNo. H-h-h-he-he… he… d-d-d-didn’t” The words are an enormous struggle, but for the time the tide is contained.
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Re: Ailments

Postby catch » Fri Jan 31, 2014 4:58 am

"Y-y-yess, he has," Catch says, quiet, implacable. She needed to know. She pushed away, and he would let her, supporting her all the while.

"It's all r-r-right, Miss Noura. She - she helped m--me when no-one else would." Noura didn't know. She couldn't know. She hadn't been there. He turns soulful, wet eyes to her, her and wise, wise Gloria. "Like - like Rhaena, b-b-before he turned her."

"He is m-m-making you lie. For Myrken. He's - he's m-m-making you swain. For Myrken. You - you d-d-don't have to listen to him, Miss Genny."
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Re: Ailments

Postby Guppy » Fri Jan 31, 2014 7:09 am

Noura trembled with ferocity. Genny's meager explanations never came to fruition, trapped as they were by her own stuttering mind. The promise of magic in the air was fetid upon their tongues. Her eyes went sheer white for a moment, or perhaps it was merely a trick of the light. Blooded runes shone against her flesh.

Catch gently defended the woman, made excuses that almost made sense, given the profound deterioration of the figure he cradled. Her recuperation after her fall, which had appeared simple injury enough, was lengthy and arduous. Weeks had passed and still, she looked as if she would blow over in a stiff wind. Perhaps she found herself drained by the Governor. Perhaps there was something to Catch's insistence. Or maybe he just found comfort in deluding himself.

Suddenly, she found her vision filled with her friend's patient expression. Firm hands cradled her shoulders, echoing the touch that Catch had given when they arrived. Abruptly, the fervor upon her face drained away to nothing. It left only startled weariness upon her features. The air cleared and it seemed all too silent. Suitably cowed, the whelp would trail behind Gloria like a chastised pup at master's heel.

Her petulant muttering carried back to those they left behind. "And it is deserved."
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Re: Ailments

Postby Rance » Fri Jan 31, 2014 11:26 am

Outside--

They stood on the creaking wood of the suspended stairs. Gloria drove shut the door with the heel of her boot. Around them, the evening was beginning to crawl over the winterside, giving a sputter of coldness to the afternoon, turning the blanket of white snow along the streets and fields to a tired blue. From this height -- on the second storey -- they could have seen on for miles, miles; the trees in the distance didn't seem so tall anymore, and the cramped sprawl of Myrkentown was no longer a beast of such height. The shadows cast by the jagged teeth of its buildings and structures didn't touch them here.

"Deserved as you may think it, it's not how we resolve this."

She gathered up one of Noura's hands, cradling it within the clasp of her palm. The seamstress' skin was a furnace of warmth. A timid thumb crawled along the inner plane of the wildling's wrist.

A touch to soothe the cinders of fiery talent that blistered beneath the marks branded in Noura's flesh.

"I thought for -- for a moment, when I received her letter, that she would bring me here and unhinge a part of my brain. That's why I left that note for you, for Catch; I can rely on you and on him. Regardless of -- of what Genny Tolleson is or isn't capable of, she cannot help but be small around him. She knows she's safe with him. More vulnerable," the seamstress said, "more self-aware. She sees him and -- and her guilt, if there's any at all, is magnified.

"Some people are more human around others. And while I will never forgive her for meddling in my brain--"

(Did Noura know, ever come to realize, how much more aware the Jerno girl was of her fire now? Her impulse, her violent and combustible tendencies? It was there, a spark behind her granite eyes, hidden somewhere behind a jaw that didn't stop clenching, huddled in the pockets of air between her grinding knuckles and creaking joints. Allayed. Forcefully stalled.)

"I am more thankful than -- than you know that you came for me. But it works in our favor if -- if she punishes herself, rather than if we give her that retribution. I need her to feel safe and protected, Noura. Not defensive, not afraid. It's important that she sees us capable of forgiveness. Do you understand?"

She met the other girl's eyes. What was unmistakable was that the hard gleam, theJernoan want to strike, break, fracture something, was still evident. But she worked, with every vestige of patience, wit, and composure, to channel it more efficiently--

"A High Inquisitor's guilt is a currency all its own."
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Re: Ailments

Postby Tolleson » Fri Jan 31, 2014 3:29 pm

Why had she asked Gloria here. The answer was so simple, how could she not see it. It was her nature. When it was wiser or better to run away, she always ran towards, facing problems no matter how ill equipped or naïve. And now there were so many problems, forgetting, swaining, Glenn’s manipulation. She had told Gloria, and told her truthfully, what she needed to know to face the problem logically. She would reiterate it now but the words won’t form, ‘I trust you, tell me what really happened.’

Yes, he has.

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Like Rhaena before he turned her.

Could he?

Noura and Gloria headed to the door and it isn’t until the threat and a firm shut that she realizes they are gone. Unable to tear her attention away from the unfathomable explanation being offered to her. Her beliefs, once a sturdy floor, were quickly failing under the weight of Catch’s words. Even though she sits in the dingy chair, without his direct support she wavers unsteadily. He blindly pushed forward, trying to convince her that Glenn was behind this. But just as he put absolute faith his words, just as Noura knew the redhead to be cruel, and just as Gloria was convinced the world betrayed her, Genny believed in Glenn. And each of their truths put them in conflict with one another.

And now, even more than before, Genny was in conflict with herself. There were too many voices, the petulant Child, the loyal Pie-maker, the Inquisitor. Love the child wailed, friend the pie-maker said softly and sweet, and how, how, how. It was a low, soul sickening, incessant thrum, Reason. How could she know? There are great swaths of time and conversation left blank, voids in the fabric of her memory. And it aches. To be told with certainty you have done a thing and have no recollection, no inkling as to how or why, to know you have caused suffering and cannot make it right.

He’s making you lie. He’s making you swain.

Her eyes fall to him and linger imploringly, could he see into her and witness the struggle inside? A dull green that trembles against the storm that threatens them from within, she strained to keep steady. “W-w-w.. wh-wh-why?” It came almost a whisper, but not pleading or sad, simply curious. Reason had won for the moment, it made no sense for Glenn. Beyond that he wasn’t capable, he had helped her after all. He had purposefully never shared his thoughts. Never taken her hand. At that thought there is a pang of pain for the jealous Child inside if her, vicious and self-deprecating thoughts soon followed, he knows you’re not good enough, not strong enough, he didn’t trust you; Rhaena did all of this and she was far better than you. Not long after the Pie-Maker joined the chorus, of course it is your fault; clumsy girl, you ruin everything, this is your mistake, it must be. Reason’s voice knew better, there were reasons Glenn had loved Rhaena, an understanding and acceptance only age allowed. And she certainly wasn’t Rhaena. But Reason was failing.
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Re: Ailments

Postby catch » Sat Feb 01, 2014 12:23 pm

His hands were reluctant, reluctant to leave her at all, and so as she moved away from him, they kept their strength on her arms. Not to grasp, but to hold. He looked up, and into her eyes, his own so animal, so alien, still glimmering with the unshed tears of her raw power.

"B-b-because he is a bad man," Catch tells her, as if this would be a revelation. "He is a, a b-b-bad, selfish man, and he - he d-d-doesn't care if anyone hurts, or suffers. He only c-c-cares about houses, and golden st-streets, and how - how p-p-people look at him, look at his little town, and th-th-think he is a good, f-f-fine fellow, to have a town so nice."

"It d-d-doesn't m-m-matter who he hurts , who he t-t-twists, or, or changes," Catch pushes on. And his anger is great. It is a dull, viscous path through him, a glint in his usually-dull eyes. "It d-d-doesn't matter who he g-g-grinds in the, the dust, so long as Myrken sh-sh-shows white."
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Re: Ailments

Postby Tolleson » Sat Feb 01, 2014 6:53 pm

With all the pieces of her mind in conflict, the restraints that kept it contained were buckling. Breaking. White knuckled, mental fingers latched onto the tide as if a thin membrane or a sheer fabric contained it. And his hold is a strong, supporting tether added to the effort. Warm and grounding, even in anger, it pulled her to him even though she remained at arms distance. Perhaps it would not have worked if it had been Gloria beside her now, or anyone else. But Catch could capture smoke, he could still her mind and calm the water. It was a small motion because the pain still throbbed, but she shook her head slightly, numbly, no, believing and somehow knowing this was not true. A final spasm of muscle movement twitched under his big hands and she balanced. The rest of her is still now, staring at the creature that looks up at her. She sees him, she understands and for one brief moment she is with him, the sharp definition of awareness in her eyes.

Damp but drying the tears leave her lips parched and salt-sticky. With a silent intake of air, a breath before she refutes him, her lips break apart to breathe. Her eyes begin to look distant, passing through the tunnel of his iris, down into him, lost and out of focus within the depths of him, retreated into her head to manage the emotions that had flooded the room. They are pulled back, not with useless fingers through which they might pour free, but lessons for restraint, with levees. The knowledge Rhaena had given her.

In response she might have explained how Glenn was no more selfish than any one of them, that all he did was in service of Myrken, she wished to question and to prove, to compel him with examples of good deeds, or to simply say no, no, no. The three voices, loudest among many, all vied to be heard.

“d-d-d-do... d-don’t …. Don’t… don’t h-hurt h-him,” it was the only unified sentiment they all shared.
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Re: Ailments

Postby Guppy » Sun Feb 02, 2014 3:41 pm

The woman steered her swiftly out onto the stairs. They almost swayed with the force of the wind, but the view was breathtaking. Noura shook off the seamstress' hands and wrapped her own fingers around the slim railing. Her shoulders were hunched, stooped with unresolved anger, and she trembled and not with cold. In truth, the chilled air was welcome balm against her heated skin. She took a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes to gather what little patience she had left.

One of her hands was tugged upon and her posture eased, slightly sullen expression taking in Gloria. She likely felt a shock of something sear through her thumb at the contact with the rune. It was not painful, exactly, but it was potent.

The wildling watched her with eyes cautious of the information she granted. "Catch makes her weak," she offered, in summary. She was quiet, in thought, and staring down between their feet. "Have you ever noticed," she began, her eyes returning to Gloria's, "that everyone who wields power in Myrken is weakened by their friends?" She thought of Genny, of Glenn. "While we find our strength in them?" That was not quite the case, but it eased her heart.

Another, brief, narrowing of her eyes as she assured that she would never forgive the High Inquisitor. "You better not, Gloria Wynsee. You better not fall for her damsel act or I will break your nose." Again. The gratitude she displayed, though, made Noura's features soften considerably. "Of course I came to help." Was there any question?

She grunted, annoyed with this plan. "I will try, but I make no promises. I am not good at feigning esteem." That was likely as good as it got.
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Re: Ailments

Postby Rance » Sun Feb 02, 2014 4:19 pm

"There's only one Tolleson who manages to -- to drive me to forget my sense or my convictions. She," the seamstress wheedled, "isn't the one."

Her thumb burned, like she'd just touched a searing hunk of coal. But the thumb couldn't help but linger there, covering the blazing image of the rune scalded into Noura's flesh. The squeeze of her hand was imperative, scarcely willing to let go of the other girl until the shoulders had bled out all their tension and the rage had subsided. She could have traced the narrative through every one of Noura's muscles -- Gloria knew that indistinguishable anger, that little voice knocking at the sanctum of the mind, screaming against reason and rationale. Hit something. Break something.

Her bandage-bound knuckles were complicit to that truth.

The uttered philosophy of friendship brought a twitch to her lips. She blew out a small laugh, curls of breath-vapor bursting into the air.

"I've never noticed it. But now that you've made me aware of that pattern, perhaps we ought to display it to all the rest of Myrken, through action and -- and composure."

No matter the nettling discomfort that burned and sparked against her fingertip, she didn't dislodge her hold from the wildling.

"One more hit to my nose couldn't do any more harm. It might only improve the general state of the matters between my neck and my scalp. I'm not asking you to feign anything; on the contrary, I invite you to -- to display your displeasure. But intelligently. Effectively. Follow the same advice you gave me when I learned what she had done. And if you ever want to swing your fist, if you want to hit her?"

She drew Noura's arm down and lifted the rustling kirtle of her skirt up enough to crush it into a ball. She stuffed a handful of her dusty, filth-stiffened dress into the whelp's palm, tightening each of the other girl's fingers around it until the knuckles were white and vicelike.

"Take this up and don't let go. Afterwards, that anger can be put to such use. But now? I -- we -- need only a sliver of her trust. Remember: we've nothing to apologize for. She, on the other hand, has got penitence to serve. We are her first opportunity for it."

Gloria leaned forward and, with Sun-warm lips, kissed the side of Noura's cheek.

She turned, then, and said against the door:

"Mister Catch, tell Menna Tolleson to straighten her spine. We are coming back in. She summoned me here to speak, and there is still very much we all must discuss."
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Re: Ailments

Postby catch » Mon Feb 03, 2014 5:39 am

Gloria called inside, and still, still, he had not answered Genny. His own mind was locked away, locked in an indecisive, painful whirl, in dull eyes that held that sluggish anger.

The Lamai-light wished Glenn away.

The Wolf wished Glenn torn to shreds, thrown to the moon with laughing lips.

The rest of him ranged between these sentiments, and not one part of him did not wish to do some sort of hurt, inflict some of the pain that Glenn caused others.

And how could he promise this, this request of Genny's? He couldn't. And to Genny, he would not lie.

"You've heard," Catch says, instead, his throat a false, guilty cheer. "Do I n-n-need to - to p-p-put my Brains against you, f-f-for a little bit? So you are n-n-not so Ill? I will b-b-be quiet, quiet as houses, and - and you and Miss Gloria c-c-can speak."
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Re: Ailments

Postby Tolleson » Mon Feb 03, 2014 3:19 pm

Gloria’s voice permeated the edge of consciousness, even when the words failed to find meaning. Catch, on the other hand, was alarmingly clear. Not just as words, but the meaning. And it meant a lot. Even if she couldn’t read the false cheer, his willingness to do it was enough for her to know. So the pause that follows is less a careful consideration and more to find what composure she could.

The last few moments had taken an extraordinary effort, so to say she was better would be untrue. But Genny emerged from herself and wrapped herself with the calm Catch provided. It was a calm not because of what he was or what he could do, but who he was, to her. Her right arm lifted, trembled and pulled out gently from under his hold. Her thin, cold fingers crawled to cover the other hand, to hold him.

“No,” there was fragile stability and tenderness in the whisper. The control that had been lost because of his presence had also been partially regained with it. Though she still looked a mess, still thin and sick, still bruised and weak, she was relatively whole and coherent. He didn’t want that, the conversation was a dim memory, but she wouldn’t ever ask him to fix anyone. Had it been a promise? There were so many gaps.

Leaning forward as if she might kiss him then, she stopped short, perhaps thinking better of it considering she had just vomited. Instead her forehead pushed softly against his as she sighed, “It hurts. But not so much as I fear that… that would hurt you.”
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Re: Ailments

Postby Guppy » Tue Feb 04, 2014 12:38 pm

Noura was not one for violence. Not through fists, at least. Her emotions made the magic that clung to her unstable and her temper yielded its own dangers. Never fists, but magic was just as vicious. Maybe more so. Gloria had soothed her, the runes quieting against her thumb. There was a low vibration that never ceased - pulse mingling with something even more basic.

The young woman gaze Gloria a look when she mentioned that another hit might well improve her face rather than detract. The fact that she was not being asked to ignore her ire made great relief spread across her features. She was not entirely certain that she could have done as asked, were that the case. "Are you certain that she feels any guilt at all, Gloria? She claims not to remember." And clearly Noura thought the woman was not being completely honest.

Gloria showed her how to get out her aggression, showed her how to clutch the seamstress' skirts in a white-knuckle fist to stay her hand. She smiled in response, knowing how frustrated that Gloria had been, before learning to smother her own anger. Something had changed her, though Noura did not know what. "Thank you. I will use that if I need it, my friend." The words were thick with affection and the kiss upon her cheek was welcomed.

They parted and Gloria called to Catch. Noura waited at her side, only entering in her path. Genny was given a glower and arms crossed her chest. Sullen and unyielding.
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Re: Ailments

Postby Rance » Tue Feb 04, 2014 3:52 pm

"Whether or not she feels guilt is none of our concern. What matters," the girl said, "is that she acts as though she does."

Something had changed, and it was as simple as this--

Gloria Wynsee was tired of making the wrong decisions.

Fists were easy. Simple. They were immediately gratifying, instantaneously satisfying; she could cock her elbow, bare a cudgel of flesh, and in that moment, intelligence, logic, and reason mattered nothing at all -- the only factors were the resulting bruises, or the blood that came running like red, red wax from the nose or the lips. But knuckles, too, couldn't remedy lies, nor could they abolish the damage done to a brain by the fiddling of invisible fingers.

Noura had told her, weeks ago, to conserve her fire. It swelled, broiled inside of her, but it remained preserved, a rumbling, Jernoan fury locked away in her breast.

For later.

She took charge of Noura's hand, then drew open the door with the other. She strode inside, trailing the rune-inscribed girl in her wake. There, Mister Catch and the sleep-starved Genny Tolleson were a lump of interwoven arms and soft-touching cheeks. The girl spoke, however sharp an interruption to the stuttered whispers shared between the addled man and his fire-haired subject of comfort.

"Sit straight; sit firmly," Gloria said from across the desk, jabbing a finger against its well-worried lacquer. "This is a moment that -- that necessitates your attention, Genny Tolleson. I came at your request, at the demand of your letter, despite my doubts, my fears, and my discomforts. Mister Catch is -- is here for you, and Noura, for me. I find it reasonable that if circumstances dictate that we cannot wholly trust one another, we ought to have pillars at our sides, that we might both be resilient."

For Catch, the girl offered an attempt at a soothing smile, all brown teeth and dry lips.

For Noura, an extended palm, begging her patience and calm.

"No matter the reason, a mind has been meddled with. I've been swained. Perhaps others. Mister Catch may confirm it; Noura may support his claim."

A breath.

"How," she said, "would you propose an Inquisitor handle this?"
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Re: Ailments

Postby catch » Tue Feb 04, 2014 5:17 pm

"You c-c-could never hurt me."

That was something that he knew, deep down in his heart. It is something he would have once sworn of Glenn, that the man knew best, that he would never, ever hurt him. Not unless Catch sorely deserved it. And there had been times, a scattering of times, where Catch had needs to blame himself, to find the reasons that Glenn had Giuseppe terrorize him. Good, firm reasons, weren't they? Logical reasons to apply fist to face, to thrust fingers down his throat, and pull out strings of blood?

Logical.

With Gloria's hand on the door, he told Genny this, and he scrubbed his finger-pads against her cheeks, clearing away tear-tracks. He would dare to place an impudent kiss, soft as a moth, against that same cheek. So very careful. He would not have Ser Stefan linger against Miss Genny's skin.

"You are - you are authority," he tells her, doing his best to be kind in the face of Gloria's stiff smile, Noura's scowl, the demands. He winces to have Gloria tell of his involvement, but otherwise, he is a steadfast, pulsing warmth.

He would say nothing else, aside from that.
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