The captain seemed to visibly flinch at the question.
If truth be told, he had come into the encounter prepared for Elwren's blowback. In his head, the entire exchange had been mapped out, slipping in those subtle mentions to try to lead her down a guided path he could predict more easily and counter. To string her along, gingerly, gently, and ease her into the news that her partner had perished. If she'd lashed out, as the bull stuck repeated with barbs snarling at the toreador, then he could have used the collective points to drive the finishing blow and end the outburst cold. If she diverged, there were a handful of set paths he'd imagined. All in all, the tactics of a funnel-user, applied to social interactions.
That she had just folded entirely was one of those paths, but not one he'd put much stock in. Folding, into oneself, to brood and nurse hurts, was behaviour he'd observed in her counterpart. And as the two were such polar opposites most of the time, anticipating one meant anticipating the other in the reverse. Now, though, he'd been left the bowman surprised at his own effectiveness. To watch a wounded animal collapse from a blow not meant to cut so deep. Compassion, natural for a human, stealing away any lingering animosities.
Thus he was left the sympathetic, the figure trying to offer what meager hope he could. And in so doing, it seemed, he had ceded his former position to Formi. From where she was standing, she could no doubt see over his shoulder, and what he was trying to bodily shield from Alfimi's sight. His eyes cut to her, his features draining of their warmth.
"... we did. Enough that we're sure she wasn't vaporized. Which is cause to hope that we can recover her core, as it were. It's a faint hope, but a hope all the same."
Behind him, about two or three meters away, was a clear rectagonal container with a seal on top - a repurposing of a biomedical bin from the ship's infirmary. Inside it floated a rough-hewn piece of metal and circuitry, like a spearhead with a girthy shaft. A sacrum, with the three lowest lumbar vertebrae still attached.
Into the Eternal Darkness; Into Fire and Into Ice
-
GEAR
- Posts:49
- Joined:Sat Jan 06, 2018 1:39 am [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1275: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Into the Eternal Darkness; Into Fire and Into Ice
As Hawkwood spoke, and the color slipped from his features, Alfimi casually registered that he was attempting to block something from her view. She leaned slightly to her right, azure tresses bobbing as she did, to get a better look... and as she caught sight of the tank, her eyes widened with shock.
Unbidden, she leapt over the railing, and hurried over to the object in question, slowing as she came before it. Her fingers pressed against its surface as she studied its contents. It was cold to the touch, and small drops of condensation had formed across the glass, now trickling down her gloved hands. Up close... It was so ugly, she thought. Sara would be aghast to know that such a thing resided within her. Her internal sensors checked its composition... and it matched flawlessly with her partner's own bio-mechanical construction.
She stopped cold, a realization suddenly gripping her fast.
This was it, she thought.
This inert piece of bone and metal... Had once been a living, breathing woman.
One who had once scolded her, and chided her, giving her endless grief about this and that, everything from how she dressed, to how she slouched, to her ideological preferences.
Had made her feel that nothing she ever did was good enough.
Had been a leash - and at times, a noose - about her neck as she tried to bring order to a world gone mad.
Had been petty, closed-off, and contrary.
Had been, at times, her worst enemy.
...
And yet.
She had held her, and told her that she was needed.
Had believed, even after everything seemed lost, that there was still something salvageable in her.
Had never once let her down, or broken a promise.
Had been the most patient, kind, and selfless human being she had ever met in her entire life.
Had been the only other person in the world like her, who had shared her pain, her soul, her body, her life - with her.
Had loved her, and been loved, even when neither of them were the best at showing it.
Had.
Her friend.
...
And she had dragged her to an agonizing death, chasing her own, selfish, petty dream.
She had been trying. Trying to hold it all in so badly. She had wanted to assess the facts. To determine what happened, how, when, and who was involved. She would write a report, and submit it. Then... Then, when she was alone, she could grieve. That was how it was, when you led. When you had responsibility. You couldn't let others see the hurt.
Countless times, she had penned letters to widows, to brothers, mothers, children... Placed calls, made visits. Stood watch at funerals. Given eulogies. That sort of thing.
Sara was good at that, she thought. She was always better at knowing what to say, and would offer a gentle, arresting hand when her temper might have gotten the best of her. In those moments, when she had felt her own voice die in her throat, and her tone suddenly change, speaking someone else's softer words... She had always been silently grateful.
It was one of the rare times that they worked well together.
She, Alfimi, in the guise of Sara, would always conclude by saying... that no sacrifice was ever pointless.
It was all for a better tomorrow.
For the Union.
For their new world.
...
Right?
So... then...
Why... did this happen?
...
"Sa... ra..."
Her own voice sounded distant to her ears. She could feel it, bubbling up from beneath. Everything she had been trying to hold back. She didn't want them to see. Not the mercenaries. Not Malleus. Not... Sara.
To Captain Hawkwood and Formicarius, as well as all present... It would have manifested simply.
A slow, drawn out, thin wail, like the tiniest pressure leak from a container about to burst, escaped her lips, as she bowed her head, shoulders shuddering. That was the last push she needed. The dam would hold no more.
Alfimi Elwren screamed.
It was a sound like nothing else on Earth. Dredged from the depths of her wretched soul, like a cross between a shriek of unspeakable pain and a guttural, heart-rending sob, filling the air, rising to an ear-splitting decibel as she sank to her knees. Flecked with static and threaded with tinniness, mechanical instruments and hardware strained to translate the intense emotion of the being they held captive, giving it an unearthly, artificial ring.
Her nails dug grooves into the container's surface as she sank to the floor, all traces of restraint lost. Everything was noise. Everything was pain. All she could do was scream in hatred, in frustration, at powerlessness, at herself, at Jacobin, at Sara... Everything. Another howl tore loose from her throat, as her head hit the ground, hands coming up to clutch at her hair, so tightly that clumps of it fell from her trembling fingertips to the floor below, leaving her little more than a shuddering wreck, convulsing against the hard steel surface.
It was the only time that the assembled would ever hear such a unique cry... for she was now the only being left that could make it.
Unbidden, she leapt over the railing, and hurried over to the object in question, slowing as she came before it. Her fingers pressed against its surface as she studied its contents. It was cold to the touch, and small drops of condensation had formed across the glass, now trickling down her gloved hands. Up close... It was so ugly, she thought. Sara would be aghast to know that such a thing resided within her. Her internal sensors checked its composition... and it matched flawlessly with her partner's own bio-mechanical construction.
She stopped cold, a realization suddenly gripping her fast.
This was it, she thought.
This inert piece of bone and metal... Had once been a living, breathing woman.
One who had once scolded her, and chided her, giving her endless grief about this and that, everything from how she dressed, to how she slouched, to her ideological preferences.
Had made her feel that nothing she ever did was good enough.
Had been a leash - and at times, a noose - about her neck as she tried to bring order to a world gone mad.
Had been petty, closed-off, and contrary.
Had been, at times, her worst enemy.
...
And yet.
She had held her, and told her that she was needed.
Had believed, even after everything seemed lost, that there was still something salvageable in her.
Had never once let her down, or broken a promise.
Had been the most patient, kind, and selfless human being she had ever met in her entire life.
Had been the only other person in the world like her, who had shared her pain, her soul, her body, her life - with her.
Had loved her, and been loved, even when neither of them were the best at showing it.
Had.
Her friend.
...
And she had dragged her to an agonizing death, chasing her own, selfish, petty dream.
She had been trying. Trying to hold it all in so badly. She had wanted to assess the facts. To determine what happened, how, when, and who was involved. She would write a report, and submit it. Then... Then, when she was alone, she could grieve. That was how it was, when you led. When you had responsibility. You couldn't let others see the hurt.
Countless times, she had penned letters to widows, to brothers, mothers, children... Placed calls, made visits. Stood watch at funerals. Given eulogies. That sort of thing.
Sara was good at that, she thought. She was always better at knowing what to say, and would offer a gentle, arresting hand when her temper might have gotten the best of her. In those moments, when she had felt her own voice die in her throat, and her tone suddenly change, speaking someone else's softer words... She had always been silently grateful.
It was one of the rare times that they worked well together.
She, Alfimi, in the guise of Sara, would always conclude by saying... that no sacrifice was ever pointless.
It was all for a better tomorrow.
For the Union.
For their new world.
...
Right?
So... then...
Why... did this happen?
...
"Sa... ra..."
Her own voice sounded distant to her ears. She could feel it, bubbling up from beneath. Everything she had been trying to hold back. She didn't want them to see. Not the mercenaries. Not Malleus. Not... Sara.
To Captain Hawkwood and Formicarius, as well as all present... It would have manifested simply.
A slow, drawn out, thin wail, like the tiniest pressure leak from a container about to burst, escaped her lips, as she bowed her head, shoulders shuddering. That was the last push she needed. The dam would hold no more.
Alfimi Elwren screamed.
It was a sound like nothing else on Earth. Dredged from the depths of her wretched soul, like a cross between a shriek of unspeakable pain and a guttural, heart-rending sob, filling the air, rising to an ear-splitting decibel as she sank to her knees. Flecked with static and threaded with tinniness, mechanical instruments and hardware strained to translate the intense emotion of the being they held captive, giving it an unearthly, artificial ring.
Her nails dug grooves into the container's surface as she sank to the floor, all traces of restraint lost. Everything was noise. Everything was pain. All she could do was scream in hatred, in frustration, at powerlessness, at herself, at Jacobin, at Sara... Everything. Another howl tore loose from her throat, as her head hit the ground, hands coming up to clutch at her hair, so tightly that clumps of it fell from her trembling fingertips to the floor below, leaving her little more than a shuddering wreck, convulsing against the hard steel surface.
It was the only time that the assembled would ever hear such a unique cry... for she was now the only being left that could make it.
Last edited by GEAR on Tue Feb 13, 2018 6:30 am, edited 1 time in total.
-
Jadzi
- Posts:34
- Joined:Fri Jan 05, 2018 12:13 am [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1275: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Into the Eternal Darkness; Into Fire and Into Ice
He turned, not nearly fast enough, as Alfimi vaulted past him. Couldn't get his body in the way, couldn't get his arm high enough or firm enough to block her. All he could do was gasp, and watch her latch onto the tank holding the grim artifact.
"Ms. Elwren, please, you need to step away from that..."
Tooth ground on tooth as he watched the process work. As he all but felt the emotions working through her. Watched her tremble, watched her shake. Watched the motions build with each twitch, each jerk. The sound that came, that she tried to stifle, that neither she nor any other being that had ever lived could have controlled. He tried to keep his own composure just watching the woman in her emotional death throes. As she contorted, as she screamed. And screamed, and louder and louder. In the air-tight bay built for industrial labor and the operation of industrial machines, the sound bounded from wall to wall like an echo chamber, vibrated through every present atom of the Phoenix's ashes.
He had to clamp his hands over his ears to dull the head-splitting sound, lest the inhuman volume of the woman's loss slay him as well.
And more than that, the shockwave of emotion that rippled through his ethereal senses. He had never been nearly so sensitive in that regard as his wife was. She, who along with him had been so busy extending her senses in search of Janovsky, only for the shockwave of the woman's end to hit her like a freight train. It was a wonder Kyra had even survived, as she fell into a coma and the machine she flew was dashed against the Bugs' teeth. Then, as now, it had stabbed him in the heart, so solidly that between it and the sound he wasn't sure which would take him first, heart or mind.
Hawkwood shot a look to Formicarius, the only other being in the chamber. A look that asked only one question, that any soul not stone-dead might conjure in this moment. Why?
"Ms. Elwren, please, you need to step away from that..."
Tooth ground on tooth as he watched the process work. As he all but felt the emotions working through her. Watched her tremble, watched her shake. Watched the motions build with each twitch, each jerk. The sound that came, that she tried to stifle, that neither she nor any other being that had ever lived could have controlled. He tried to keep his own composure just watching the woman in her emotional death throes. As she contorted, as she screamed. And screamed, and louder and louder. In the air-tight bay built for industrial labor and the operation of industrial machines, the sound bounded from wall to wall like an echo chamber, vibrated through every present atom of the Phoenix's ashes.
He had to clamp his hands over his ears to dull the head-splitting sound, lest the inhuman volume of the woman's loss slay him as well.
And more than that, the shockwave of emotion that rippled through his ethereal senses. He had never been nearly so sensitive in that regard as his wife was. She, who along with him had been so busy extending her senses in search of Janovsky, only for the shockwave of the woman's end to hit her like a freight train. It was a wonder Kyra had even survived, as she fell into a coma and the machine she flew was dashed against the Bugs' teeth. Then, as now, it had stabbed him in the heart, so solidly that between it and the sound he wasn't sure which would take him first, heart or mind.
Hawkwood shot a look to Formicarius, the only other being in the chamber. A look that asked only one question, that any soul not stone-dead might conjure in this moment. Why?
Re: Into the Eternal Darkness; Into Fire and Into Ice
Formicarius might have tried to grab Alfimi's shoulder, hold her back, had she known she was about to tear towards the container. But it happened much to suddenly, and now the woman was trapped in lamentations that she and Captain Hawkwood had to listen to. She stepped up slowly, hovering her hand behind Alfimi in contemplation of when to try and cease her sorrowful wailing. The tall female crouched down to one knee besides the gynoid and gave her some more time. In the interim she looked up and back at the Captain with a complete blank response. That shaded visor hid it all, even whatever emotions may have been lurking on her face as she contemplated what to do. Worse still, she gave no hint of a proper response to the silent inquiry of the man. Perhaps a shrug may have sufficed, but now was not the time.
"Chancellor... we should go. There's nothing you can do here. I'm sure they will keep in touch with you if they find anything." The agent placed her arm over Alfimi's back and to her far shoulder, giving her perhaps the closest thing to a creature comfort she had received in some time in pulling her shuddering body in for a half embrace against her side. There was perhaps something to be said that it was an act done in absolute sympathy - if Formicarius was acting now, she was truly a better operative of Hexenhammer than any the woman had met before. "Besides, it's not like your hair is going to grow back..."
"Chancellor... we should go. There's nothing you can do here. I'm sure they will keep in touch with you if they find anything." The agent placed her arm over Alfimi's back and to her far shoulder, giving her perhaps the closest thing to a creature comfort she had received in some time in pulling her shuddering body in for a half embrace against her side. There was perhaps something to be said that it was an act done in absolute sympathy - if Formicarius was acting now, she was truly a better operative of Hexenhammer than any the woman had met before. "Besides, it's not like your hair is going to grow back..."
-
GEAR
- Posts:49
- Joined:Sat Jan 06, 2018 1:39 am [phpBB Debug] PHP Warning: in file [ROOT]/vendor/twig/twig/lib/Twig/Extension/Core.php on line 1275: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable
Re: Into the Eternal Darkness; Into Fire and Into Ice
Alfimi heaved against the ground, still in the clutches of the emotional spasm that had gripped her. She gulped air in ragged, rasping breaths, as emergency cooling procedures took effect, and as Formicarius had touched her, the heat pouring off her frame would have been as evident as the scent of burning ozone about her, as her metal shell fought to bring itself back under control from its tortured taskmaster. Gradually, her shaking subsided... and she lay still, only the occasional, indecipherable murmur escaping her lips.
It wasn't all out yet. This she knew. Something irreplaceable had been forcibly gouged out of her, a bloody red hole that could never be replaced, no matter how much time passed, and it's absence was still raw, red, and fresh. If there was a bigger blow life could have dealt her, she couldn't think of it. But... for the time being, at least, she was able to stow it away... for a moment when she was alone, in the darkness.
Now she was truly alone.
No army at her back.
No Sentradas to guide her with his reassuring words.
No Sara to whisk her away to safety when she slipped on the razor's edge.
She could never face Trent and his family again. Not after this.
It was just her, now.
She could hear Formicarius' words, somehow. Their presence, at least, was some small measure of comfort. She simply nodded at their suggestion, slowly, shakily, pulling herself upright, face a mask of bitter shame, unable to meet the gazes of any of those assembled... or for that matter, to regard the remains of the woman she had once known any further. She simply stood, holding herself in sorrow, and allowed herself to be led away, her thoughts... unknowable to all but herself.
It wasn't all out yet. This she knew. Something irreplaceable had been forcibly gouged out of her, a bloody red hole that could never be replaced, no matter how much time passed, and it's absence was still raw, red, and fresh. If there was a bigger blow life could have dealt her, she couldn't think of it. But... for the time being, at least, she was able to stow it away... for a moment when she was alone, in the darkness.
Now she was truly alone.
No army at her back.
No Sentradas to guide her with his reassuring words.
No Sara to whisk her away to safety when she slipped on the razor's edge.
She could never face Trent and his family again. Not after this.
It was just her, now.
She could hear Formicarius' words, somehow. Their presence, at least, was some small measure of comfort. She simply nodded at their suggestion, slowly, shakily, pulling herself upright, face a mask of bitter shame, unable to meet the gazes of any of those assembled... or for that matter, to regard the remains of the woman she had once known any further. She simply stood, holding herself in sorrow, and allowed herself to be led away, her thoughts... unknowable to all but herself.