[action]

Date: 2017-03-05 08:21 pm (UTC)
circumitus: (her comfort is the gun)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
[Not long after her last text, she approaches the front door to House 1301. Rey doesn't have to go very far, seeing that it's just across the street from where she lives, but she still drags her feet along the way, feeling oddly heavier than she usually does. She's tired. Eyes darkened, skin paler than usual. The truth takes a lot out of you.

[Rather than knocking, she goes to open the door. She has been here enough that asking permission for entry doesn't seem necessary anymore.]
Edited (wups) Date: 2017-03-05 08:21 pm (UTC)

[action]

Date: 2017-03-06 03:23 pm (UTC)
circumitus: 'Cause it makes him feel like a fish. (says he likes to get high and swim)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
One hand hangs at her side, allowing a hyena to briefly brush against her palm before Bianca follows. Rey barely blinks all the while, from the animals' greeting to Bianca's kiss.

She holds still for a moment, before accepting the glass handed to her and goes to sit down.

"It... isn't something I really know how to tell," Rey admits, sinking into a seat.

Reluctance holds her tongue, as she struggles to even make the suggestion that's lingering on her mind.

Taking a quick drink, she swallows hard, unable to look the other woman in the eye when Rey speaks. "Can you... you know...?" She gestures to her own head, trying to indicate Bianca's ability to influence and invade one's thoughts -- even projected feelings onto her once.

Much as she hates to even think it, words just fail her.

Date: 2017-03-10 03:14 pm (UTC)
circumitus: Just remembered. (i woke up in the shower this morning)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
At Bianca's admission, Rey just shakes her head. "No, it's... That sounds nice. Convenient."

If Rey was capable of communicating through similar means, that would have made things easier. Simple. She can't help but feel a little envious of such a gift.

But then, that is an option now. Might as well take advantage of it.

Words failing her for the moment, Rey just nods. She takes another long drink, nearly emptying her glass before moving towards a place to sit. She finds the edge of a couch, where she reluctantly places the glass of remaining liquor over a low table.

"Okay... Okay." She closes her eyes, trying to focus on relaxing, despite all the tension in her muscles. "I trust you."

Which some might think to be unwise -- but Rey has never believed herself to be exactly the most trustworthy, either. So it's fitting.

Date: 2017-03-15 02:41 pm (UTC)
circumitus: Just remembered. (i woke up in the shower this morning)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
While the tension still lingers, the most nerve-wracking corner in her mind is almost immediately dispelled upon the shift in scenery. From the cold damp walls of the cave, or the unreal illusions forced into their minds by the gods, a forest is something of a peaceful place to Rey. Green. Vibrant. The smell of earth and life. Something both familiar and alien.

A part of her starts to wonder why she hadn't thought to do this sooner. If not for the sickness in her own mind. The ever-present dread that she would darken something so bright such as this.

But it doesn't. Her hand twitches at the sensation of the insect on her skin. Eases at the feeling of Bianca's touch, both mental and physical.

"It's beautiful," she says, and her throat tightens.

I don't want to poison it. I don't want to break it.

Date: 2017-03-18 02:48 am (UTC)
circumitus: Completely decimated and my hand was all bloody and covered with glass. Weird dude, never saw him again ever since. (got into a bar fight last night)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
Scarce that her fears are, what few that lingers in the back of her mind take such oppressive forms. Twisted. Dark. Insidious.

Even after Bianca's loving words, the shadows remain rather than dispel. Somehow, they darken. Become more jagged, sharper, inhuman. They writhe at the sound of the voice in her head, increasingly despaired the longer Rey holds her silence.

And the quiet is so deafening.

Despite her best efforts to stay in this brief paradise, to feel Bianca's head pressed against her with her black hair tickling the crook of Rey's neck, her eyes squeeze shut. This heavenly place has gotten even darker and her insides go cold.

A sharp pain meets her face. Warm rivers trickle down her cheeks. She realizes immediately that they aren't tears, though.

It's blood.

Somewhere in that void, an echo of a man cries out from a distant memory--

I CAN'T STAND YOU. I CAN'T BEAR THE SIGHT OF YOU. I HATE YOU. I HATE THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE. STOP STARING AT ME LIKE THAT. YOU'RE NOT BETTER THAN ME. STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT! YOU ARE NOT BETTER THAN ME!

No, it is not a man. Not a human in the slightest. He is like her, something else, artificial and yet suffering the loss of a very special sort of love. But she cannot feel his pain. Only the slashes that will eventually leave scars, and the agony searing into her brain.

Beautiful? This? Blood is beautiful? Hurt is beautiful? In Rey's mind, she can't discern the difference of Bianca's meaning. It's all the same in that instant. Searing. Constant. Tightening her insides as she goes to throw her hands to blanket her bloody face. She can't tell if she is standing or lying on her back. What is up or where is down.

Does it really even matter anymore?

Date: 2017-03-20 01:07 am (UTC)
circumitus: (it takes a train to cry)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
It's all right. It doesn't need to be like this.

It doesn't need to be like this.

Yet it is. It is and she's doing it. The hurt is present and that hurt lingers. Reminding her constantly -- she did this. It's her fault. She did this to them and she did this to herself. She is not the victim. She doesn't get to be the victim. Monsters can't be victims.

Regardless of her shattered state, delicate isn't what she needs right now. Not what she wants. She shivers and chokes, trying to focus on the presence around her and the woman kissing her face, not to fall into back when. No, no.

No.

"I should have died," Rey mutters with a shattering voice, breaking more as her head hangs and teeth gnash. Just as Bianca holds her like she's drowning in all this madness, Rey instinctively brings her hands up behind Bianca, grip tightening over her shoulders as if that's the only thing keeping her head above water. "I was a mistake, a... a defect. Shouldn't have been born. Everything was... Everything... went wrong, because of love."

Blood continues to trickle when tears begin to join them. Her jaw locks. Throat hitches. Stomach tightens. Love is the only reason why she's still alive, and for that it couldn't be a more terrifying force.

Date: 2017-03-23 03:11 am (UTC)
circumitus: (it takes a train to cry)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
What Bianca says isn't a new perspective by any means. Just one that Rey has blocked out repeatedly. Avoided the harsh reality that might not be so harsh anymore, and yet makes her gut churn and chest heavy all the same.

She is loved.

Whether she wants to be or not, she is.

The pain, she needs. Bianca's nails digging in, the sharpness of her words, and the love that's also in them... Nice, warm, deep, dark, and terrifying.

Eyes squeezed shut, she presses her chin to Bianca's shoulder, hiding the blood and the tears pouring down her face. She sucks in a breath that might as well have been molten air and ash in her mouth. "I--" she starts, shaky, before she is interrupted by another voice.

"--feel nothing."

A murmur.

Behind her, absent from Rey's view but visible to Bianca, stands a figure with its back turned. Long hair flows to its waist, like blond drapes hanging with its head bowed low. It is alien. Nothing like Rey at all.

Yet, when it speaks, it shares her voice: "Feel nothing."

Whether conscious of it or not, Rey's hold of Bianca weakens as she hears that familiar voice, repeating those two words in a hollow echo: Feel nothing, feel nothing, feel nothing.

"Only for her,"
it finally says, breaking the cycle. The blond figure's head just hangs, as its robotic monotone wavers this time. "Only for her...

"'Yet each man kills the thing he loves'--"


"--and I killed her," Rey finishes this time, voice barely above a whisper, feeling weaker in so many ways. "I killed the first person I loved... because of someone who said he loved me... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

Who she's apologizing to -- Bianca, that thing standing nearby that hasn't even looked their way, or the thing it loves -- is on the vague side. Not like Bianca's message, which had reached her ears loud and clear, and continues to hurt all the same. It's agony, because it's also truth.

Date: 2017-04-03 02:18 pm (UTC)
circumitus: Seriously. Its 80 proof rum that was 8 bucks for a liter. I'm afraid. (you don't want any of i have)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
Strength. It's funny -- love is strength. Because nothing has ever made her despair more than an act of love. And the worst part is that she can't say it's always all bad. There's her brother, who she feels something very close to love. Nick. Muscovy.

Bianca.

How can something to strong make you feel so weak?

Numb to the pain of Bianca's grip, Rey just ducks her head, her brows furrowing.

"No," she says immediately, and then-- "Yes. No and yes." Her eyes tear from Bianca to the old mirror image...

Blonde. Devoid of the visible scars on flesh and face. Her clothes, a white gown, are torn; barely hanging off her seemingly perfect skin. She is beautiful in the conventional way. Such beauty and frailty was what drew that researcher to her old self. Why he kept her incapacitated, reliant on him. That helplessness bleeds through a horrible memory.

Her stomach churns, and she looks away. "Sometimes, I can still feel his breath. Both of us c..." She bites down. Don't do this. Not anymore.

"Love, is a burning thing..." Her other, beautiful self hums as the white, torn fabric of her dress catches fire, setting flame to her skin.

Date: 2017-04-04 01:47 pm (UTC)
circumitus: Captain Morgan didnt let me down when i stand up it feels like the world is trying to hand me rainbows. (i hate your face)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
In Rey's mind, fear and love are one and the same. Always have been. The closer anyone has gotten to her, the more terrified she is of what that means for them. For her, even.

Back then, she was a possession by all counts. Something that was to be destroyed for being too volatile, and they weren't wrong. She still is something of a wildcard. Possibly why her father wouldn't let her stay dead, even when she had so wished it that she oftentimes took her rage out on him over the following years.

Her head just hangs as she feels Bianca's hands where they are, eyes staring at nothing. All the while she sees through the eyes of her other self, with perfect skin and burning hair, spreading fire across a bed that's now manifested as though it's always been there. It's a destruction of a symbol that almost made her a victim of something far more shameful. Something not out of love but anger.

The blood stops flowing down her scars by the time she lifts her head to look Bianca in the eye. Arms hanging at her sides, her expression heavy, but no longer standing like something that's about to crumble to pieces. Rather, the opposite...

Bringing a couple fingers under Bianca's chin, Rey stoops to meet the other woman's lips with her own. Gentle, but resolute, her breath carrying a smell and taste of smoke and sulfur, just as the fire around them continues to burn, spread, glow in the shadows of this space.

Her other self continues to hum.

And it burns, burns, burns...

Date: 2017-04-05 02:08 pm (UTC)
circumitus: AKA a dumpster fire. (lesbuns)
From: [personal profile] circumitus
Though she can't say one way or another whether it made her strong, pain has been a source of guidance for Rey. Helped her crawl through trials and fight through tribulations. In the end, she's realized one thing.

"Burning is what I do," Rey murmurs, barely pulling back from Bianca's lips, her eyes still closed. "What I'm best at."

On the back of her lids, she watches in her mind the charred remains of flesh and bones, lying amid that fire that renders the mattress to ash and rust.

The flames rage, consuming all. She hears screaming, but they don't belong to her own this time. Not herself or her 'self' standing close, now bald and gazing empty at the black and red fire.

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Bianca

August 2017

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