[closed] I will dig and struggle on to the guillotine

[stillawoman]

Who: Caim and Furiae
What: Furiae's moping around and Caim finds her.
Where: At the fountain
When: 12/11/2012 (Monday), 6:30PM-7PM
Warnings: None.

The evening had grown melancholy, the early setting sun fading out to a darkening sky, but still leaving enough light for people to make their way through. There was little activity though at this time- that was what Furiae had found in the past few days, at least. With little to do, she had taken to finding spots around the academy where she could sit and think comfortably alone, allowing her some escape from the room she used for sleeping in.

Sitting and thinking... how used to doing those two things she had become. But at least, at last, Furiae thought she could feel her mind becoming calmer, more than it had been in the past few days. Calmer- but not happy. The questions that couldn't be answered, the situations that can't be changed... the wishes that won't be made real - Furiae knew she had no choice but to accept the truth before her. Even if she didn't, stubbornness would not change reality.

She could not change reality.

I want to see him... but I know I will not find him.

The water of the fountain had become still, dripping no longer after the pumping had been turned off long ago. It had been a while too since Furiae had heard any footsteps, and she suspected it wouldn't be long until the lights that scattered around the academy would turn on like they mostly did. Accepting her position in this city, Furiae had finally turned her thoughts onto the school. The uniform she had received when her brother had helped her enroll into it was still tucked away inside a drawer.... she had completely forgotten about it until spotting it the day before. But it was only the clothes she forgot; she knew she had a place at this school, but had chosen to ignore it out of disregard.

But how much longer could she act oblivious? If she were to lose the shelter she had here, she would be with nothing. Maybe then, pitifully, she could dare to face a fruitless search, but how long would she be able to last on her own? As consuming as her desires were inside her heart, Furiae couldn't believe in a happy end to such an scenario. She had thought about it long and hard enough.

Yet here, there was a comfort. A feeling, one akin to hope, that she would see his face again. She had endured much worse than this. Attending a school, carrying on her days - Furiae didn't doubt she could do it. Only, she felt exhaustion in her mind when she thought on it, an emptiness. And hope? She had given up on hope years ago.

Furiae looked down to the hands in her lap, fingers joined together like a prayer, and she parted them to rub the sides of her covered arms. Stagnating in one place, she was beginning to feel the cold of the coming night. Tomorrow, she supposed, she would have to find her place in this world, and play the part given to her. And then--

She didn't know.

Comments

[loverofinnocence]

He still hadn't quite gotten over it.

The idea that a year of time spent traveling through a plethora of other worlds - most of which he wasn't quite 'welcomed' to, ended up being for vain. It was a sore point for him, one that Vianca had wasted no time in driving 'home.' But he couldn't fault her. Everything she'd said had been accurate. Caim was the cause for Ai's involvement with Majima, and he ended up being the one to break her heart. Not once, but twice. And though Ai looked like a child, there was certainly more to her. Regardless of her age or her appearance, he still had no place in creating the proverbial crack that ran up her heart in jagged and pointy edges.

A part of him felt nervous, at the very least. Ai had seen Furiae, most likely talked with her, and provided there was no 'time jumping' as was sometimes spoken of at the academy, then Furiae likely remembered Ai from when she had only just arrived. How close did he want the two to grow? Furiae needed friends. She needed people she could rely on, people she could trust.

People he could trust. Like Mac.

But Caim was also privy to something that he was unsure if Furiae had known or not. Clearly she was not the sister he had known. Not the one Inuart had put into that egg which birthed mankind's 'salvation.' Not the one he had faced and fought as Angelus carried him through the skies. So surely... she knew not that her feelings had been so ousted. Well, 'ousted' being a poor choice of speech. And what he truly thought of it meant very little.

Mostly.

In truth, he was conflicted. Regardless of how he felt, regardless of the jabs Angelus had made concerning his sister's 'affections' toward him, he would remain ever steadfast and a most appropriate older brother. Appropriate in the means that he would be protective and harbour some form of hope that she would feel no envy for relationships he created. Or alliances, for that matter, as it seemed he was on the way to not necessarily redemption, but a long path of understanding. He did not expect forgiveness, and he did not feel entitled to it.

His thoughts scattered about him, like companions in the dark of the evening and he recalled his time at the academy before. His actions had certainly stained him - no greater or less than they had in Midgard. The Kraken's barbaric and cruel death. Those in the city who died by his sword. Mac, the innocent bystander. And everyone who faced him that night at the stadium when Ai was taken captive and used as the fated bargaining chip.

"She loves ya, y'know." He had not forgotten. As he paused momentarily, he eyed the fountain that set the very stage for the administrative office. And it was in those moments that he abruptly paused, in motion and in thought.

For there he had found her, the one he'd looked for, for so very long. Before he approached the opposite side of the fountain in all of its glory, he looked himself over. His hair was still shaggy. Age still had a way with the sculpting of his face - as much as a year plus would show. But he was certainly more cleaned up than he had been.

"......" A final tug to straighten out his tunic and in his silence, he tapped his right foot to the ground to capture her attention.

[stillawoman2]

The thoughts of what she would do in the new morning had taken Furiae's mind, trying trace by an illusionous map the paths she would take to do what she would need to do. To know her classes - that was a must, and finding the place to be told that was a neccessary act to be taken before that could happen. Would she be questioned? Surely, but she couldn't help that; if it was to come up, then all she could do was try to explain. And after that....

The tug of a shirt, the study of an appearance; all of it had happened unnoticed to Furiae, who sat there on the other side. Her attention lost to her thoughts, her head still hanging with a downcast expression at her lap and the ground, it was truly only the tapping on the ground that brought her somewhat out of her mind. She wasn't sure at first - if it had been a far-away sound, her imagination, or a sound that was real, and her eyes glazed over the concrete pathway until she saw, once her sight reached the fountain, the figure there, standing.

It startled her. With unadjusted eyes settling upon the foreign presence, all she saw was a shadowed figure. Featureless but with form; she gasped at the sight. Her body both moved and froze, kept in place on the bench in fright, but her shoulders tensing and a hand gripping down onto the hard surface beside her as if stuck between rising and uncertainty. But in that moment, with her eyes still on the figure before her, the darkness washed away from the front of the body, over the tunic, trousers, and face. What Furiae saw was still a shadowed complexion, maybe even more darkened by the distance between them, but the familiarity she saw hit her, even before she knew if she was certain or not.

"Ah...! Caim...?"

Her disbelief echoed through her voice, passing by her lips. To be thinking of him only moments ago, to see him now. Was it real? Or was it a trick of the scenery, a phantom image created by her mind from the wish she kept inside? But the face did not go, the figure did not go - not even as she stood slowly up from the bench and onto her feet. His hair; it looked longer, more long than she remembered her brother's to be, but still it looked right regardless.

"Is it really you...?"

That feeling, akin to hope - it was there, somewhere in those soft spoken words. A hand was to her chest. Her heart, quickened first to the thought of a stranger, now beat against her breast to the thought of him. Did she dare believe....?

[loverofinnocence]

If he had been anyone else, or perhaps of a more modern time, Caim could have waved, or something equally idiotic. Frankly, most of the time if the motion didn't involve a sword, the man didn't particularly care. Given the situation, however, and the different things that fell onto his shoulders, he seemed to realise - mostly when speaking with Mac - that he truly was becoming more human. And consequently, that meant he would be the brother that his sister needed, as opposed to the brother too obsessed with his own sorrow that rationale left him to his solitude.

The academy helped.

She addressed him and he wished in that moment, as he had in many other ones, that he had a voice to speak to her. Yet that was something he doubted he'd ever obtain again and instead, he offered a rather curt bow. Arm at his chest, and him inclining over it, more like a motion he remembered making plenty when he was young and still being taught manners and their use in the world.

He gave her time to digest that it was truly him and took the opportunity to take a few steps closer. Around the masonry that couldn't be as old as him - he assumed - and perhaps within four feet, simply stopped. Left hand upon the hip, he motioned with the right to her, as if to scold her for suddenly departing before without a word to him. For she couldn't have possibly known what he'd gone through in order to find her. And to be fair, she shouldn't have left in the first place.

I lost you once, he thought to himself. The Gods be damned if I should lose you again.

But after a moment, his head tipped and though he stood stern and firm, he opened his arms for her. As he knew her well, or so he thought, and he couldn't shake the suspicion that she likely could have used his embrace far more than anything else in that moment. Who was he to deny her such a 'sin' of the flesh?

[stillawoman2]

A sort of release was felt over her body, the anxiety that had gripped her entirety letting go and allowing her to move properly. It was him - him, her brother, Caim, and there was a relief that came with that fact. The confusion in her still spoke out - like this, truly? Now?, but Furiae wasn't one to suffer delusions for so long, and not ones that moved with the same power and weight as a real person.

The bow was familiar, homely, not something Furiae had expected to see, but it warmed her to despite how short it was. Her hand moved down from her chest as it met with its other at her stomach, her shoulders relaxed, and Furiae too, once her brother had moved past the stone of the masonry, took steps closer to him, but stopped when he raised a hand towards her.

And she smiled. Something small, something wistful; a reaction to a familiarity gesture. How serious it made her felt, to have her emotions dancing inside her body, and to see memory of a younger brother. Scolding her, but always softly, always half-heatedly; the brother that would always soon after have a smile on his face. And though this one before her didn't, though she felt felt a pang of responsibility from his gesture - her lips still turned.

Whether Furiae needed the invitation Caim her next - well, even her brother seemed to know the truth of her nature. She wouldn't reject it. Erasing the space between them with footsteps neither brisk nor wary, Furiae felt the firmness of her brother's body first on the face that she rested against him. Her hands found a place up and around his neck, over his tunic, and her hold became firmer as she found herself in the embrace.

"I'm sorry, Caim." She couldn't stop herself from speaking the apology. Though he had been gone, she was the one who had disappeared. She knew this, feeling it reminded it to her by that momentary act of his. Caim had been gone for weeks and now he was here - was his departure her fault to begin with? The thought had crossed her mind many times before.

"I didn't leave by my own will. I cannot explain it... all I knew is that you were gone."

[loverofinnocence]

He could not recall how long it had been since someone had been so close to him. Even in his past, no matter how close someone want physically, there was still the nature of keeping all people at least arm's length away from him. Emotionally it was dangerous to allow people near, and he didn't want to admit it to anyone, but he felt either emotionally empty, or the kind of frailty that people didn't expect a man of his calibre to possess.

It took more than one moment for her to grow comfortable, which was precisely what he waited for prior to carefully slipping one arm about her. His hand found the small of her back and he held her protectively to him, as though he was trying to make up for lost time. Ten minutes was not going to make up for a near decade of mistreatment and he seemed to know it very well.

His other hand found her hair and as if it were a foreign motion, his fingers pulled through the very ends. As he looked down to her past his own locks of deep brown, it didn't take a lot for him to see so much of their mother in her. Furiae really was a spitting image from head to toe. There was comfort in the notion and pain as well, but Caim had long trained and reminded himself that they were not the same and could not be treated as the same.

I thought I had lost you once more, he thought, and as an afterthought mouthed in that forlorn silence he was bound to. His head inclined and his hand within her hair followed the length of her neck until he could take hold of her chin. Tipping it up with as much tenderness as a barbaric man could, he moves to settle his lips to her forehead gingerly. Next time, stay put. Lest I go on another fruitless journey.

[stillawoman]

His words were ones that didn't need speaking. Furiae had no intention of leaving his side, not if the choice on the matter was only hers to make. She had no one else in this place, no castle room to be confined in for the rest of her life. Who else did she have to put her trust into? Who else to lead the way? Maybe it was pitiful, but that was the woman she had become when becoming the goddess, a person led by others for her own and the world's protection. Yet some sympathy had been given by whoever watched, to be allowed to be in the presence of her brother than of a priest.

When he moved her head up to look at him, her arms moved down some and left her hands resting against his trapezius. His face, covered in a shadow but more clear than before, looked different to her in the moment she saw of it before he moved his lips to her head; Furiae wondered if it had been her imagination, but only briefly.

This man is my brother... Her eyes dipped at the thought. Caim - with the pain in his heart that she could never help mend. What did people think of him? Wright, the teacher with black hair she had met outside Cam's room - the reaction to his name had not been forgotten to her. But she had decided before - or she knew - that whatever had happened, it did not matter. Nothing would change the care she held for him. Furiae didn't think of that day, but the words trickled in her head nevertheless.

I will always believe in you.

The smile on her face grew warmer.

[loverofinnocence]

The moment itself - the one with his lips to her forehead - seemed much longer than it truly was. He relished in it, savoured it, and could not help but think of days long passed. Days of when they were younger and happier. Days before they lost their parents and were forced to fight as puppets of the gods for survival and 'salvation.' Days when there was still hope and not an unending feeling of helplessness. And prior to that moment, Caim had not felt nostalgia so closely or so amplified.

He had considered his adolescence more than once in his search for her. He had clearly begun to remember the boy he once was and the life he lived when being trained by his father. The life he lived when his days were idly spent with Inuart and Furiae. When their days eventually led to what was to be a most happy betrothal. How it had all built up into a fated and tragic day. How they had suffered so much to come to this point.

He was there. She was there. They had, in one way or another, achieved victory. And better yet, knowing he still lived, he knew Angelus did as well. Somewhere. But a pang of guilt ensued when he didn't bother to tell her of his plans either. And he inwardly decided that the moment they crossed paths again, he would - with a tall posture - accept her chiding readily, and perhaps with a bit of humour.

Withdrawing his hand from her chin, his thumb brushed over the cheek bone on her left side with reverence. Do you understand the freedoms you have here? Do you understand that you are no longer bound to the laws of our world? You can prosper here. You can live as that which you could not in Caerleon.

Looking away from her, he motioned around them. Here, in this place, you can be free. You can develop your own thoughts, feelings, and motives without the influence of a greater being. You can be your own person. You can grow your own wings.

[stillawoman2]

As his finger moved and touch against her cheek bone, the eyes that had closed due to the pleasantry of the moment reopened, meeting again with the sight of the face that was her brother's. His lips moved, speaking words with no voice, and Furiae knew that she had to place close attention to what he wanted to tell her. They had had such quiet conversations before, with her catching onto the words she thought him to speak and trying to understand from them what he wished to say. It had worked well surprisingly in the few times in the past, and Furiae, in the privacy of her own mind, liked to believe it was because of how well they had once known each other.

Do you. Freedoms. Do you understand. Live. No longer bound. You can. You can live. Could not. Caerleon.

Furiae did not have time to think and place them in an order when she caught the motion of his hand. She looked out, a mind resting on the silent words spoken and the expression of Caim's face as he said them. As she looked out into the darkness, the pieces began to fit together in her head as they sunk in.

Do you understand your freedom? Do you understand you can live? You are no longer bound. You can live. You can live.

Live.

Her head tilted down and her hands clung together at her chin. It was true. This world was unlike their own. There were no seals, no role of a goddess. In death her pain had ceased, leaving only remains of the four year exhaustion that had been placed on her body and mind. But those - those were more bearable than the solitude and agony that she had ever had to face.

Here, in that moment, she stood not a pawn. In those days since her return again, she had moved as freely as any other person. Ignored, unwanted, unneeded; things that would be saddening to any other, but to her in realising them, were a blessing after what had been back in Midgard. A life that was not hers, a body that belonged to all.

But she had been too absorbed in clinging onto a sadness to embrace it, hadn't she? Grief, her one and only friend for so long, had been so easy to accept. But the words that Caim had shared, Furiae knew it was a possible truth. Her heart had been too scared to accept that when she had arrived here so long ago, but...

"I wish to live this life with you." Furiae turned back to her brother, facing him once again to show him her face. Her words were truthful to her heart, a feeling unchanged for many years since she had chosen to travel by Caim's side. But now, no mark tore between them - their griefs, while still scars on their being, were not so fresh.

She reached for a hand of his, taking it into both of hers. It was his left, the coin of his bracelet dangling, but there was no room for grief for a trinket lost when the one who stood before her was more precious and valuable in every way.

"If it is true we can begin again, then I wish to be by your side. After all that has happened..."

To speak out so honestly; it felt foreign to her. However, she didn't want to let go of that chance, as if the hope of freedom presented to her by Caim gave her a strength. She cast down her eyes to the hand she held, lifting it closer to her person.

"When you needed me, I could do nothing. Even as the goddess, I was unable to help you. I could only stand and pray as you placed your own life at risk."

All of the guilts and regrets that had found a home in her swelled in her chest, wishing to be all poured out. But she paused, for only a moment, letting the pressure in her chest subside before looking back up to the face of the man before her. Caim, with his older face, his lengthened hair. The one who had occupied a place for so long in her prayers, her mind...

"I don't wish to lose you again."

And her heart.