[blythe has done horrible things, and she has absolutely no regrets.]
[that's not really relevant right now, though. right now, she's just trying to get a sandwich from a street vendor. there's a large television screen embedded into a building across from her, and she can see the anchor reporting on the breaking news of the sudden, unexplained death of a tech CEO. her gold eyes flash and there's a small smile on her face as she pays for her food and begins walking away.]
[the reporter goes on to mention that preliminary examination suggests a high level of blood toxicity—strange for a CEO who famously did not drink. blythe hikes up her white jacket (covered in various biohazard symbols and warning signs and "this is not a place of honor." written in block letters between her shoulder blades) and begins walking away.]
[she makes it about twenty feet before having to cough into her hand. unfazed, she wipes the blood on the wrapper of the sandwich and sits down on a nearby bench to watch the rest of the report. she'll be expecting someone shortly, if history bears out.]
[ another dead mogul. another fucking ceo, gone in yet another mysterious way. why the fuck should she care? she's not here for them. she's here for the same stupid reason she comes out here every week. the same stupid bitch as ever.
(she's the only stupid bitch here. she knows that already.) ]
Jessie. [ cold. not as cold as she'd like. she doesn't bother to put out the lit cig, still held between two slender fingers. ] What a surprise.
[ they met here every week to go out on dates. they still meet here every week ever since she got dumped. truly, a tragic heroine. ]
[hair prickles at the back of her neck like antibodies waking up. it happens every week; she's used to the sensation by now. she's gotten good at quelling Her protestations. this is normal, she thinks. they aren't together anymore, she thinks. let her have this.]
Audrey. [she's stopped fighting; the nickname doesn't even register anymore.] You know what "broken up" means, don't you?
[she slides to one end of the bench. there's no need to glance upward even to imply the invitation anymore.]
One of us won't show up, someday. What will you do then?
[blythe takes her bony fingers and forms a circle around audrey's wrist on the hand that's holding the cigarette. holding her ex steady, she leans forward and wraps her lips around the end, taking a long, slow drag like she's done too many times before. she leans back, lets audrey go, and plumes the smoke out above her, and for a moment she could swear it has a yellower tint to it as it leaves her body.]
Don't kill yourself. Cigarettes are so expensive. I'd go broke. [she rests her lunch on the bench and keeps her head tilted upward; even with the grey sky, it hurts her eyes.] I don't understand what keeps you coming back.
[ they've done this a hundred times before, shared cigs through puffs and passes and shotguns and kisses. doesn't make it any less intimate; there's a faint flush on audrey's face, a tension to her thighs as blythe leans away. ]
At least I'm worth a pack. Guess that's something. [ she breathes in the tar, tries not to think about blythe's thin and chapped lips against the filter. ] Can't believe the clinic still lets you smoke. Or did they just give up after the third time you outlasted the prognosis?
[she smiles with her flat, human teeth and closes her thin, human eyelids and tries to think of how she'd gotten away with keeping so many things secret from audrey for so long. maybe this week she'll tell her, she thinks. maybe this week, She won't choke the words from her throat.]
They can deliver me as many prognoses as they want. They'll always be wrong. I've been very good at living ever since I turned 18. [finally, she sits back up properly and looks at her ex. the thoughts that come to mind are only pleasant memories, but She tempers them with a wave of revulsion, a bolt of sudden nausea. blythe does not let it show on her face.]
I hope it won't be a surprise to learn that I regret it, on some days.
the someone, of course, is already present - stalking through the shadows and hunting its prey. ears pointed forward and tail dragging against the ground just enough to make the faintest noise, it circles and circles, growing closer with each cycle.
it's all pageantry, of course. or rather, enrichment. something to keep things interesting. if this was a real hunt, the beast would have pounced before its presence could ever be noted.
by the time they're close enough that the words on their jacket ("THE HUNT NEVER ENDS.") are visible through the gloom, they finally stop and speak. their voice is a calm growl, syllables drawn out and sharp as their fangs. ]
[that's precisely how blythe knows she's not in any real danger. if the Hunt truly had it out for her, if the Hunt wanted her dead, their fangs would already be tearing through the too-soft flesh of her throat. and no threat of toxin from Her overflowing cup would save blythe's meaningless life.]
[it's that comfort that emboldens her. barely looking away from the screen, she mutters at them,]
I'm aware. You had more than enough time. [and her golden eyes finally slide in their direction.] And this whole time, I thought we were supposed to avoid being noticed.
[ there's a laugh from them - a hideous and strained noise that's more barked out than anything. ]
Being noticed is a good thing! When you're noticed, people gather and cower and they tell stories of the things that lurk in the dark, uncertain of the shadows around them, never knowing whether the ground beneath their feet will bear their weight when they have to run. There's something wrong, they'll think - something they're not being protected from, despite the supposed safety they exchanged their freedom to gain.
[ a grin. a flash of teeth, glinting with moonlight. ]
And yet you'd still call down that attention to yourself.
[she comes up short of scoffing, but pats the seat next to her in possibly the most cordial move she'll make this whole encounter.]
But the possibility of getting caught is just another part of the hunt, isn't it? Everything gets caught by something eventually, and won't it be a beautiful day when you meet something that's quick enough to get past you? [her teeth are flat, those of a mere human, but she flashes them anyway. her voice has a rasp to it that usually only comes out in the mornings, before she's spoken enough to settle it.] When you feel the hot breath of something else at your throat and you know that you're finally at the end of it all.
[ blythe's right enough, and their acknowledgement of that shows in the way they saunter over and take the offered seat and lean just ever so slightly against her with a wag of their tail.
what actually comes out of their mouth, though, in the most obnoxious voice they can muster, is: ]
[blythe laughs low in her register without taking her eyes off the hunt. it helps to quell the prickling at the back of her neck as She begins pressing her will into the world She inhabits once more.]
And betray my Lady? No, no. Let this be something that we know will end with the prey escaping.
[the touch of another against her, even a simple and innocent press of weight, sends a different sort of prickle through her body. it's easier to exert her own will when it's against others in her position; She understands their roles in the Balance and won't upset them. but She doesn't have to like it. blythe lids her eyes as her smile grows.]
But if it's working, far be it from me to stop, dear Hunt. Do you enjoy knowing there are some things that are out of reach even of your sharp, slender claws?
[ The person that awaits Blythe is familiar, small and sharp eyed, dressed smartly. She extends her hand, offering a pure white, entirely too fancy, handkerchief.
It's not that Hlasoh doesn't respect it. She does, she knows Jessica is fighting for a future that might have less need of conniving bitches like them, and the man was a bastard of the first order. ]
I'm not mad, Jessica, but really? I haven't seen you in months and you decide to make my life that much more complicated without so much as a "how are you doing, lately?" Honestly. He was only my third least favorite cousin.
[ She makes an airy gesture of dismissal. ]
Well? How have you been, you shiftless ne'er-do-well?
[she doesn't touch the handkerchief, but she never really has done that kind of thing. she sits politely and lets hlasoh get through her introduction; blythe really had no idea this latest balancing act had been related to her. but hlasoh has this way of getting to the core of things faster than some others when she means to, so blythe just looks up from the bench with her expression as flat as possible.]
I'm sorry. I don't know a Jessica. [the blankness on her face fades away after a moment, softening to something a little friendlier. it's harder to talk to hlasoh in some respects, but in others it's refreshingly easy.]
So much care put towards staying alive. Depriving himself of the simpler pleasures to indulge only in the dollar. He feared another more strongly than the death that did come for him. [a break in the speech that makes it seem like she'll actually, finally answer the question that hlasoh had asked. no luck:] It doesn't seem appropriate to tell you that I am sorry for your loss; it's impolite to lie. You have come to expect this?
[ She doesn't expect any remorse, nor does she grieve for that man. But his death puts a lot more heat on her to keep her nose clean. Be a good black sheep and don't give them all a justification to destroy her, because right now the better part of her family is furious and paranoid.
They're not buying that sudden bout of illness for a second. ]
Well, if you ever meet her, give her my regards.
[ She gives a little laugh, then shakes her head. Beneath her poised irony there's tension, a noticeable edge. ]
Expect is a strong word, but I'm not shocked. I just wished you'd given me greater warning. As the lowborn adopted daughter of one of the most famous individuals our House ever produced... well, they're already suspicious of me, and now they'll be champing at the bit to find plots and assassins. Being inconspicuous is so boring. [ She sighs. ] Of course, I'm used to it.
Then you'll have no problem continuing to weather the storm.
[she would love to remain that cold, that distant. and even though there's no prickle of a threat at the back of her neck, her thoughts still shift towards finding a way to be at least a little... nicer about it. about the truth. she doesn't need to hide that from hlasoh.]
He was being targeted by many people like me. I needed to move fast to keep questions about his death as contained as possible. But I am not cruel, Hlasoh. [she turns her golden gaze upward, staring at the other woman from the comfort of her seat and behind her brow.] Check the autopsy report. You will find no evidence of burns in the throat. No forced consumption. No medical interactions. You will find only the fatal nephrotoxicity.
[she stands slowly, leaving her sandwich behind and rising to her full height that only ever feels imposing when speaking to hlasoh. she reaches up and brushes hair from her own face back over her ear.]
The heart beats two billion times per life. The air we breathe is deadly to our cells. The human body is such a frail thing, isn't it? So fallible. [her fingers twitch like she wants to touch hlasoh's arm; she refrains.] So malleable.
Oh, you're just too kind. And since you're so kind, and might I say, I just love all the memento mori too, it's making me feel so at ease with the universe right now; since you're so kind, you'll have absolutely no problem admitting that you owe me for this.
[ She grins wryly up at her. She knows that she covered her tracks. She knows how these sorts of operations need to go down. But there's still a satisfaction that comes with ensnaring her, if she can get it. ]
Does it excite you, thinking of all kinds of horrible things happening to my body?
[her arm prickles, the familiar feeling of a pinch in an artery. she thinks the word "no." sharply and tries to keep her face unemotive until the pain passes. "let me handle this," she thinks. "i am Yours." the feeling stops, and she crosses her arms over her chest in an almost comical show of intimidation.]
Perhaps. But it's even more exciting to think how I may be the one who owes you right now. [she reaches out; her insides do not protest. she runs the backs of her fingers along hlasoh's cheek and her Lady is silent.] What is it that you think I may be able to balance our scales with? How do you measure what I have done?
[Blythe isn't the only one who had done horrible things. Ash didn't think she had regrets, she had pushed the blame of her mistakes onto others. It was revenge for everything that had gone wrong in her life. ...Now she was just getting by on the far edge of the multiverse where the consequences of her actions couldn't find her at the moment.
She certainly doesn't have a clue whether she's the person Blythe is expecting or not, but cosmic constants like that weren't uncommon for her at this point. Every Gary had sacrificed himself to close the breach after all, except for the Gary where she had been from.
...And that wasn't even where her problems began.
She plays it naturally as possible but eventually she takes a seat down on the bench beside Blythe and gazes up at the screen.]
Kind of weird, huh? How people can make this sound like news while hundreds of other people are out there suffering.
[blythe is expecting any number of people, and anyone who sits down is someone she's been expecting. it's the way this kind of thing seems to go. everyone has something to say when a mogul dies, and if they have reason to suspect her then they have even more to say. still, blythe doesn't get those vibes from this new arrival, and will—for the moment—approach this as a normal conversation.]
Mm. Weird, yes. But the system is designed like this—haven't you noticed? We... they care more about the death of one man than the millions of deaths caused in his name. His technology, his industry, all in the name of stealing more money and prolonging his own legacy.
[as normal as it ever gets with blythe.]
The story will be the same no matter how many of them die. Until someone begins to wonder why.
[Ash felt her shoulders sag. It had been exactly like that, hadn't it? Everything back home was for, and because of one man. Through countless timelines it all lead back to what he was doing.
She gives a little huff.]
Noticed? I've lived it. It's- Complicated but that's the truth.
Doesn't matter how many people that person has killed- How many people he's hurt. At the end of the day he's the most important one around.
[there's not much acknowledgement from blythe to begin with. she sits serenely, knowing very well what this person means, what she's talking about. and then that last statement comes, and she smiles with her thin, cracked lips. there's no teeth, but she still seems primed to pounce, shoulders tense, neck prickling.]
Do you intend to do something about it? [there's no reason to give the entire game away. she keeps her tone level.] Men are only men. Their assets are not armor. They have names. Addresses.
[Ash looks to the ground and considers her answer. She had already striped Mooncake of his power, freed Invictus so he can spread his will across the multiverse. There wasn't much else that Gary, Quinn, or Avacato could do to stop it. ...She could kill them herself, but she thinks to how Little Cato turned away from her. She looks to the ground.]
...I have. I could see it through the end I guess. But that isn't going to give me back what I've lost.
They're already dead. They just don't know it yet.
[blythe nods slowly, but it only begins at "they're already dead". the rest of it is a curiosity she would like to handle with words, indelicate as she may be with them.]
There is never a way to return what has been lost. Time flows in one direction only. [she knows this well. she knows that she has thought about this enough that her Lady will not object to her speaking of it.] Do not regret what has gone. Mourn it as you choose, but leave it to its ultimate death. When you meet it on whatever you consider the other side, it may no longer recognize you, and you will have spent your life chasing something less than a mirage.
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[that's not really relevant right now, though. right now, she's just trying to get a sandwich from a street vendor. there's a large television screen embedded into a building across from her, and she can see the anchor reporting on the breaking news of the sudden, unexplained death of a tech CEO. her gold eyes flash and there's a small smile on her face as she pays for her food and begins walking away.]
[the reporter goes on to mention that preliminary examination suggests a high level of blood toxicity—strange for a CEO who famously did not drink. blythe hikes up her white jacket (covered in various biohazard symbols and warning signs and "this is not a place of honor." written in block letters between her shoulder blades) and begins walking away.]
[she makes it about twenty feet before having to cough into her hand. unfazed, she wipes the blood on the wrapper of the sandwich and sits down on a nearby bench to watch the rest of the report. she'll be expecting someone shortly, if history bears out.]
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(she's the only stupid bitch here. she knows that already.) ]
Jessie. [ cold. not as cold as she'd like. she doesn't bother to put out the lit cig, still held between two slender fingers. ] What a surprise.
[ they met here every week to go out on dates. they still meet here every week ever since she got dumped. truly, a tragic heroine. ]
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Audrey. [she's stopped fighting; the nickname doesn't even register anymore.] You know what "broken up" means, don't you?
[she slides to one end of the bench. there's no need to glance upward even to imply the invitation anymore.]
One of us won't show up, someday. What will you do then?
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[ she drops down onto the proffered seat without a question, taking a drag as she stares at nothing in particular. ]
Iunno. Haven't really thought about it. Kill myself, maybe?
[ ha. as if. the idea's too boring to even put up with. ]
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Don't kill yourself. Cigarettes are so expensive. I'd go broke. [she rests her lunch on the bench and keeps her head tilted upward; even with the grey sky, it hurts her eyes.] I don't understand what keeps you coming back.
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At least I'm worth a pack. Guess that's something. [ she breathes in the tar, tries not to think about blythe's thin and chapped lips against the filter. ] Can't believe the clinic still lets you smoke. Or did they just give up after the third time you outlasted the prognosis?
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They can deliver me as many prognoses as they want. They'll always be wrong. I've been very good at living ever since I turned 18. [finally, she sits back up properly and looks at her ex. the thoughts that come to mind are only pleasant memories, but She tempers them with a wave of revulsion, a bolt of sudden nausea. blythe does not let it show on her face.]
I hope it won't be a surprise to learn that I regret it, on some days.
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the someone, of course, is already present - stalking through the shadows and hunting its prey. ears pointed forward and tail dragging against the ground just enough to make the faintest noise, it circles and circles, growing closer with each cycle.
it's all pageantry, of course. or rather, enrichment. something to keep things interesting. if this was a real hunt, the beast would have pounced before its presence could ever be noted.
by the time they're close enough that the words on their jacket ("THE HUNT NEVER ENDS.") are visible through the gloom, they finally stop and speak. their voice is a calm growl, syllables drawn out and sharp as their fangs. ]
That tyrant was this beast's prey, lady blight.
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[it's that comfort that emboldens her. barely looking away from the screen, she mutters at them,]
I'm aware. You had more than enough time. [and her golden eyes finally slide in their direction.] And this whole time, I thought we were supposed to avoid being noticed.
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Being noticed is a good thing! When you're noticed, people gather and cower and they tell stories of the things that lurk in the dark, uncertain of the shadows around them, never knowing whether the ground beneath their feet will bear their weight when they have to run. There's something wrong, they'll think - something they're not being protected from, despite the supposed safety they exchanged their freedom to gain.
[ a grin. a flash of teeth, glinting with moonlight. ]
Mm, no. This beast avoids getting caught.
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[she comes up short of scoffing, but pats the seat next to her in possibly the most cordial move she'll make this whole encounter.]
But the possibility of getting caught is just another part of the hunt, isn't it? Everything gets caught by something eventually, and won't it be a beautiful day when you meet something that's quick enough to get past you? [her teeth are flat, those of a mere human, but she flashes them anyway. her voice has a rasp to it that usually only comes out in the mornings, before she's spoken enough to settle it.] When you feel the hot breath of something else at your throat and you know that you're finally at the end of it all.
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what actually comes out of their mouth, though, in the most obnoxious voice they can muster, is: ]
My, are you flirting with me?
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And betray my Lady? No, no. Let this be something that we know will end with the prey escaping.
[the touch of another against her, even a simple and innocent press of weight, sends a different sort of prickle through her body. it's easier to exert her own will when it's against others in her position; She understands their roles in the Balance and won't upset them. but She doesn't have to like it. blythe lids her eyes as her smile grows.]
But if it's working, far be it from me to stop, dear Hunt. Do you enjoy knowing there are some things that are out of reach even of your sharp, slender claws?
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[ The person that awaits Blythe is familiar, small and sharp eyed, dressed smartly. She extends her hand, offering a pure white, entirely too fancy, handkerchief.
It's not that Hlasoh doesn't respect it. She does, she knows Jessica is fighting for a future that might have less need of conniving bitches like them, and the man was a bastard of the first order. ]
I'm not mad, Jessica, but really? I haven't seen you in months and you decide to make my life that much more complicated without so much as a "how are you doing, lately?" Honestly. He was only my third least favorite cousin.
[ She makes an airy gesture of dismissal. ]
Well? How have you been, you shiftless ne'er-do-well?
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I'm sorry. I don't know a Jessica. [the blankness on her face fades away after a moment, softening to something a little friendlier. it's harder to talk to hlasoh in some respects, but in others it's refreshingly easy.]
So much care put towards staying alive. Depriving himself of the simpler pleasures to indulge only in the dollar. He feared another more strongly than the death that did come for him. [a break in the speech that makes it seem like she'll actually, finally answer the question that hlasoh had asked. no luck:] It doesn't seem appropriate to tell you that I am sorry for your loss; it's impolite to lie. You have come to expect this?
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They're not buying that sudden bout of illness for a second. ]
Well, if you ever meet her, give her my regards.
[ She gives a little laugh, then shakes her head. Beneath her poised irony there's tension, a noticeable edge. ]
Expect is a strong word, but I'm not shocked. I just wished you'd given me greater warning. As the lowborn adopted daughter of one of the most famous individuals our House ever produced... well, they're already suspicious of me, and now they'll be champing at the bit to find plots and assassins. Being inconspicuous is so boring. [ She sighs. ] Of course, I'm used to it.
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[she would love to remain that cold, that distant. and even though there's no prickle of a threat at the back of her neck, her thoughts still shift towards finding a way to be at least a little... nicer about it. about the truth. she doesn't need to hide that from hlasoh.]
He was being targeted by many people like me. I needed to move fast to keep questions about his death as contained as possible. But I am not cruel, Hlasoh. [she turns her golden gaze upward, staring at the other woman from the comfort of her seat and behind her brow.] Check the autopsy report. You will find no evidence of burns in the throat. No forced consumption. No medical interactions. You will find only the fatal nephrotoxicity.
[she stands slowly, leaving her sandwich behind and rising to her full height that only ever feels imposing when speaking to hlasoh. she reaches up and brushes hair from her own face back over her ear.]
The heart beats two billion times per life. The air we breathe is deadly to our cells. The human body is such a frail thing, isn't it? So fallible. [her fingers twitch like she wants to touch hlasoh's arm; she refrains.] So malleable.
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[ She grins wryly up at her. She knows that she covered her tracks. She knows how these sorts of operations need to go down. But there's still a satisfaction that comes with ensnaring her, if she can get it. ]
Does it excite you, thinking of all kinds of horrible things happening to my body?
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Perhaps. But it's even more exciting to think how I may be the one who owes you right now. [she reaches out; her insides do not protest. she runs the backs of her fingers along hlasoh's cheek and her Lady is silent.] What is it that you think I may be able to balance our scales with? How do you measure what I have done?
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She certainly doesn't have a clue whether she's the person Blythe is expecting or not, but cosmic constants like that weren't uncommon for her at this point. Every Gary had sacrificed himself to close the breach after all, except for the Gary where she had been from.
...And that wasn't even where her problems began.
She plays it naturally as possible but eventually she takes a seat down on the bench beside Blythe and gazes up at the screen.]
Kind of weird, huh? How people can make this sound like news while hundreds of other people are out there suffering.
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Mm. Weird, yes. But the system is designed like this—haven't you noticed? We... they care more about the death of one man than the millions of deaths caused in his name. His technology, his industry, all in the name of stealing more money and prolonging his own legacy.
[as normal as it ever gets with blythe.]
The story will be the same no matter how many of them die. Until someone begins to wonder why.
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She gives a little huff.]
Noticed? I've lived it. It's- Complicated but that's the truth.
Doesn't matter how many people that person has killed- How many people he's hurt. At the end of the day he's the most important one around.
...I'm tired of it.
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Do you intend to do something about it? [there's no reason to give the entire game away. she keeps her tone level.] Men are only men. Their assets are not armor. They have names. Addresses.
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...I have. I could see it through the end I guess. But that isn't going to give me back what I've lost.
They're already dead. They just don't know it yet.
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There is never a way to return what has been lost. Time flows in one direction only. [she knows this well. she knows that she has thought about this enough that her Lady will not object to her speaking of it.] Do not regret what has gone. Mourn it as you choose, but leave it to its ultimate death. When you meet it on whatever you consider the other side, it may no longer recognize you, and you will have spent your life chasing something less than a mirage.