middaeg | Vita agitas maledictus

Entry tags:

Vita agitas maledictus

Who: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower (

whomthebelltolls) and various! (Check prompt headers for openness of prompts)
When: Aureur, particularly around the event!
Where: Aefenglom, and the Dreamscape
What: Memshare stuff, mostly, but can be used as a catch-all for quests and the like.
Warnings: Oh boy Blood, gore, excessive violence, murder, human experimentation, body horror, cannibalism, addictive substance use and abuse, genocide, suicide (both ideation and comitting), self-harm, PTSD, religious institutions grooming people to use their blood and bodies for shady purposes, also probably some mentions of human trafficking, sexual assault/abuse in other peoples' backstories or memories. And the kitchen sink.

[1: SEMI-OPEN Memshare prompt - For people that had plans]

[What a curious little dream. The Hall of Mirrors, but some of them are indistinguishable - even if she knows, in reality, that many of the ones she's staring at bear some kind of decor upon them, especially her own - and yet here they stand.

She hears footsteps behind her, and cants her head briefly in the direction they come from. A familiar face, then, as she continues to investigate the mirror.] I wonder what it means this time? [And she pushes her hand against the surface of the mirror, immediately withdrawing it after as the surface ripples as it starts to suck her hand into it, like she's just put her hand into a pool of quicksilver.

She shakes her hand a bit, looking at it - no, it's... fine, then turns to her companion as though she's not quite sure she's seeing things properly.

It doesn't matter whose mirror it is - whether her own, or another - because the curiosity takes her and she motions toward it like she wonders if they should try... stepping through the surface. Maybe this is their chance to get home? After all, they fell out of the mirrors, maybe going back in them is the way back home?

It doesn't matter if it's her mirror or theirs, she is sort of curious, and wants to investigate. What in the world is the dream doing this time?]

[2: OPEN - In the dream]

[Clang. Maria's Rakuyo separates into its two sides as she pulls it apart, and sets up before her mirror. Those that know her well will probably note that, unlike before, the whole thing is coated in a fine layer of blood... and it's leaking yet even more. Still, she stands, her back to the mirror, her front to whoever wants to approach.

Her face is drawn into a dark scowl, and her ice-blue eyes rake over the other inhabitants of this dream with a deadly intensity. Too many people, too much curiosity - and none are permitted anywhere near her mirror any longer. The first person that approaches she appraises only briefly, before stepping forward as though to attack. And she will, if they take even another pace toward her.] Stand down. There is nothing for you in this mirror.

[3: OPEN - The Morning After, around Aefenglom]

[Maria awakens to tears on her face, and an awful, empty ache in her chest. In a daze, she stands, ad goes about her morning routine, mind still trying to parse all she had seen. All that had been seen. It's not until she sees herself in a mirror - a regular dressing mirror near the wardrobe in her room - that she finally stops to look at herself, even if it brings up memories anew.

Maria raises a single hand to the fresh tears that spill down her face, gently catching one on the back of a finger. She holds it up, looks at it, marvels a bit at the idea. It has been... so very long since she's wept, and yet, the tears continue to flow, seemingly without end. The Fishing Hamlet - she's not seen it with such terrible clarity in so long. Not heard the voices that curse and scream at her with such acuity since...

... Since before she claimed her own life.

She wipes at her eyes, notes they're red-rimmed and sunken in her reflection. She hasn't slept well. She supposes she won't sleep very well again for a long, long time, then turns back at a thought. A single, stray thought that brings her eyes to rest upon the Rakuyo and Evelyn that even now seem to sleep comfortably in their places beside her bed.

It would be so simple... she steps forward, and before she knows it, she has the sword in her hands, and is raising it up. The bite of cold, sharp metal against the side of her neck is as familiar as it is dreadful; she vaguely remembers how it felt when it severed through the muscle and tendons, what it felt like when the blood rushed out and her mind went woozy and darkness closed in rapidly at the corners of her vision. She doesn't move her hands, though.

What would be the point? She'd just wake up again. And again. Her curse is to live with what she had done, perhaps forever. She wonders if this is how Annalise feels, fated to never find rest, no matter how the journey of life wears on. It's fitting, the greatest among the Vilebloods would end up having to share that same, sorry fate.

The sword drops with a clatter, Maria turns back, unsure when she even got dressed, but knowing she needs to leave. Her bed suddenly has too many poor memories associated with it - a pity, considering how recently some good ones were made there - and she hits the town.

Right to a tavern.

Right to the alcohol.

She surrounds herself with several bottles, and she drinks. It's gotten harder and harder to lose her mind into the sway of the alcohol since her blood started to burn with a fire so similar and yet so not to the burn of the Vileblood corruption. Yet, still she tries.

Bottle in one hand, the other covering her eyes, she drinks, and that's how she'll be found the entire rest of the day, in a sorry state, trying so hard to forget.]

[4: Wildcard!]

[For all your Not-Memshare Needs! Maria is doing Pile's Plantagorium, Hold Birb Gently, and Dorchacht Devil for quests.

Anyone who wants to get in on the first prompt there, you can message me through PM, at Reslari at Reslari#9561 on Discord, or hit up my plotting post. You can also plot with me for anything else!]

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That's the truth about it isn't it?

[ He sighs before taking another sip of his drink. Maybe her mood was infectious, or maybe the topic is just sensitive for him. Either way his mood was starting to grow a bit grimmer. ]

If I ever meet the being that made this need to bond, I'm going to twist their arm until it snaps in seven places. One for each mortal sin so they understand that we'd like to ours secret and dead in our heads. Where they belong.

[ And maybe he'll break the other too. One for each night he's lost sleep fearing the inevitable time where he needs to find and forms a bond. ]

It's not as intrusive as it seems, though I frequently dream about the things I never want people to know. That's where the real danger is. It's something you can't easily suppress or control. [Or so she thinks. Her mind being attached at the emotions to Alex is easy enough for her to suppress. This is different.]

Well, the other part is knowing when your bondmate's bedding someone. [IT COMES ACROSS THE BOND PRETTY DISTINCTLY.] Gods know that can be bad enough.

[ Que the CD scratch noise as Bishop chokes and splutters. ]

E-Excuse me????

[ That's a 'yeah, no'. A big 'yeah, no'. ]

[She pauses, a drink raised partially to her lips, then looks at him with the gaze of one who isn't sure how to feel about someone being embarrassed by the revelation. Is she the only person who is blase about this stuff?]

Sex causes strong emotional feedback. You can feel it over the Bond, because most people don't bother to concentrate on suppressing what is transmitted in such circumstances.

It's yet more intense when you are with your Bonded.

[And then she knocks back another drink. Bonded Bangin': Nice, actually.]

[ He's not embarrassed over sex but was concerned about something else in relation to it. Privacy is totally out of the window now, at least he relaxes when she says it's just emotional feedback. ]

That is messed up a bit. Just a bit.

[ He'll have to take that into consideration as well. ]

Have you- actually, forget it. I don't want know.

[Maria pauses, her drink raised partially to her lips, and looks over at Bishop, as though she can't decide whether or not she's actually going to tell him.

Then, he backs out of it, and she gives a noncommittal shrug that probably tells him everything he needs to know. Yes, she's physically involved with her Bonded. Or she was, before today.

... She probably doesn't deserve to return to that life. It was a fallacy while it lasted. Maria's hand clenches around the cup, and she throws down the rest of it, and most of the next cup. Sorry, man, she's gonna keep circling back around to that.]

[ He has questions but some are not important, but he seems to have gotten a good idea about the situation. ]

What's their name? Your bonded.

Alex.

[Ah, a nice gender neutral name. Either way, she says it so automatically, she doesn't have the time to think about - oh, right.] Why?

[ A nice gender neutral name. Well, doesn't change things. ]

Am I correct in thinking you don't plan on speaking to them today?

[ The reason for the drinking is also most likely concerns this person, and if Bishop were any kind of individual he'd at least try to smooth things on one end. In this case, the Maria end. ]

You're going to have to at one point, though.

Of course not.

[Said in the key of 'duh'. She sets her glass back down. Talk to them eventually... would but that she could run from it forever. Not talk to Alex, not address this, not speak about things better left buried, much like Maria's own corpse should have been.

She tilts her head, and picks up one of the few remaining potatoes.]

Not today. And perhaps I'll never... I'll never really want to, but today, the wound's too raw.

Understandable.

[ He says as he brings his drink to his lips for a sip. ]

But from my experience, ignoring the idea of talking over something that drives you to drink this much is a fool's errand. It will come back whether you like it or not, and if I had control over the matter, better it be discussed where I'm leading the conversation, no?

I'll do it on my own time, at my own pace. [There's a harsh, cold bite to her words, as she says them before another sip of her alcohol, then takes a bite out of the potato. Once it's chewed and gone, she looks back at him.] Alex is reeling, as well. She'll not force me into anything, and I refuse to do the same.

[Well, at least Bishop got one little bit more piece of information.] It'll happen on our own time, and that time is not now.

[Yes, she's going to be stubborn about this.]

[ He dips his head in quiet approval. At least she isn't planning to just ignore it as he knows a certain someone is prone to do. Name starts with a B and ends with P. ]

Then you'll be okay, I reckon.

[ But when that time will be is the question. ]

She was...hurt during that Rathmore fiasco, yes? Has she recovered?

Yes, she... [Just thinking about it brings a hot thread of anger through the drunken haze in her mind. Duller, cooler than usual, but still noticeable nonetheless. She can't even remember it anymore without the distaste... and rage.]

The physical wounds have healed. Scars will remain; and not inscribed just to her flesh. It still troubles me that I could not do more.

[Not just to save Alex, but also to punish the Rathmores. Maria's starting to understand the curse she herself is put under, and how one can wish for something to be tormented for eternity for the things they've done.

She hopes, in whatever afterlife there is here, there's a place for people like the Rathmores to go where they can know no peace, or rest, and are in constant pain for their transgressions.]

[ That place is called 'Hell' or 'Bishop's Backyard Fun Time'. ]

I see. That's good then.

[ Physical wounds will always heal, but how about the ones that can't be seen? He wasn't there during the incident but the way she reacted says a lot of things about her side too. ]

You shouldn't beat yourself up. You saved her and caught the bad guys.

[ A beat. ]

Well not that I don't get what you mean. Bad things should happen to bad people.

Edited 2020-05-21 09:36 (UTC)

Yes. They should.

[She agrees readily. So readily. Too readily, for someone who was just reminded the very previous night of the horrible things she had done, in stunning, visceral detail. Things which led her to torment even beyond the grave.

So she's agreeing to the very thing that is still making her suffer. And isn't that ironic?

She takes another drink, then flags down the bartender for... another bottle. Yep. She's going for the 'early grave' level of alcohol.]

She's no combatant. It just feels especially bad for someone who cannot even defend themselves very well, when I can. I also feel I've been far too distant as a Bondmate. I try not to coddle or stifle her, because that is bad for her own personality and growth, but... perhaps I go too far. Perhaps I do it just to save myself.

[ At least her mind is clearing up in the drunken haze. Or is it her heart? ]

I know little of romantic relationships. Normal ones at least. The 'boy meets girl' or rather 'girl meets girl' in this case. But I do know what brings them down.

[ He drinks, big mouthful this time. He needs a wet throat for this. ]

Life is like an ocean, and the past is an anchor tied around your feet. All it's good for is draggin' ya down. [ His New Yorker accent now starting to come out. ] Love on the other hand is a boat, and you can either let the weight of the pass pull you down and kill you or, you could do the harder thing and try to cast it off to reach the boat. Sometimes you may need help to shake 'em loose, but there's no shame in that. The only shame will be is in "what I shame. They would've been cute together" if you sink.

[ He raises the tankard up for another drink. ]

I'm sure ya already know that but, sometimes ya gotta hear it before it "sinks in". Heh!

[ Bad jokes thy name is Bishop. ]

[Ready for this to especially fall flat?]

... Please stop with the sea similes. I hate them, and they were all part of my schooling for so long. Besides, I've drowned enough in emotions over my life.

[Schooling about the sea being a bulwark and home for Great Ones, that lead to a massacre in a seaside village over a Great One, and gave Maria this distinct distaste for large, open bodies of water. Shockingly.]

Besides, the things which weigh me down couldn't be cast off, even in death. This isn't as simple as you may think. Nor is hers so easy to deal with, nor do I think love really cures or conquers much of anything. It is a nice thing to feel, but it is no cure for ills.

[Haha, not clinging to the past. Bishop's funny.

Hey look. Booze.

Time to go back under into "nearly blackout but I can't actually get there" Drunkville.]

Is that so? My bad then!

[ He knows it's not his business, but he worries a bit for Maria now with an attitude like that. Love saved him, it may not have been romantic but it did truly save him more times than he can count. Though he'll never say it out loud. ]

I never it was simple, but I won't say nuttin' more about it.

[ He'll just quietly hope and pray that she gets saved too. ]

....Ya know. I just thought about it but if drinkin' the hard stuff straight won't get ya drunk, maybe summin' mixed might do the trick. Like a long island iced tea, fer example.

[ He brings a hand up to his mouth. ]

Oh boy, my accent is coming out.

[Sorry, Bishop, Maria is not a shoujo heroine. Friendship is not magic, and love is not some magic cure-all. She prefers to be alone, in fact, but her heart's being... stubborn, so she'll just adjust to what she has to. No matter how uncomfortable it can be for her, nor how much she kicks herself when she feels like she's failed to be adequate for such a thing.

Not to mention her struggles with feeling like she deserves love and happiness in the first place.

It's worse than he probably thinks, actually.]

... What's a Long Island iced tea?

[She's never heard of this thing before. But if it's more alcoholic, she might be totally down for finding out.]

Regardless, it sounds like you're just getting to the point where things get interesting. Perhaps you should have more. Maybe it'll make this day look up more for you, rather than your currently dour company. [She means herself. She knows she's not in a good mood, nor being particularly sociable - especially for her.]

[ His eyes open with renewed vigor and enthusiasm at her query. ]

It's a wonderful little drink that-

[ 'There is no cola here', he just remembered. ]

- I will have to modify if I want to make, but it is essentially a drink with five different kinds of alcohol, some lemon juice, and as a replacement for one drink, some kind of fruit juice. It taste pleasant, and something we in the alcoholics club call a "stealth drink".

[ Because you don't realize how fucked you are until you try to stand. ]

Certainly the kind of drink you might be interested in if you're looking to forget.

... Well, consider me intrigued. [If he can offer something that is going to make her even more fucked up, she is absolutely all on board.] ... Can you give the ingredients to the bartender here? Or would you need to make it another time?

[She's not sure what the bar keeps stocked here, but she's almost certain they'd probably be the kind that doesn't have too many varieties of mixers. Not that she really needs it.

In the meantime, she has her own booze to continue to take down, and she does. With the same enthusiasm as before.]

That is...a good question.

[ He turns and takes a gander at the stock of spirits the bartender has and quietly evaluates them. Some were properly labeled, others just a mark, and some he couldn't tell what they were from the color of the bottle, and those were just the ones that was visible. There was most likely more in the back which would be better in quality and saved for special occasions.

He's a little bit unsure if the way his brow furrowed said anything, but the apprehension is quickly dismissed with a shrug as he called for the tavern maid. 'No harm in trying' he thinks to himself before relaying the instructions to the girl who looked a little concerned but did as he asked. ]

There, I told her what we wanted. Might be a bit confused but she got the instructions clear enough, though not sure how the bartender might react. We'll have to wait and see, and if I need to, I'll make it myself. Teach these folks a thing or two.

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Vita agitas maledictus

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