"My fate is to die," [ he sneers at her, egged on by the hum of a ghost's words. All she wishes to do is find a good death. To live is beyond her, let her go before she breaks your heart, Osiris urges. ] I asked you to find a different way, in a land where you have that opportunity. You threw it in my face!
[ He comes to her, dark blade like a shadow and body pushing to the limit to greet her with the edge before she can bring her hooves down upon him. Incendiary pain tears through one of his collarbones, the other dipping back enough to avoid the rending downswing of her strength, her dangerous body. Like her, he is a weapon. Strong, even without his powers, and wily. Like this, with Meridian once again coursing through them, their strengths will meet one another, stagnating at a point that goes no higher than a particular limitation imposed upon them. Another collar around his throat, warning him that he must be smarter, more prepared, than others.
It is not his own strength of arm that makes him threatening, but his adaptability, his intellect.
She crushes half his collarbone, rends through flesh in a spray of blood and sand that collects to mitigate the worst of the pain and shed it from his mind. For at the last moment, he had turned his blade from the thrust that would carry it into the depths her body and sought a glancing slice instead. Because, he explodes. Under her as he is, he fades into a body of sand like a punch and aims to plunge blunt, up into her, and take her off all four of her feet. ]
Every hand I give to you, hoping to pull you from your misery — you are the one to reject it! Every life's line I cast, you disregard! I want you! It is you who have made it so clear that you do not want me!
[ In Communion, while his body is amorphous, it is clearer.
The voice tucked in the back of his head. The hand laced into his, urging him to push her harder, to demand she reveal herself — the melodious and calmly adoring voice of someone else: I know you care for her, but you are breaking yourself to pieces trying to save someone who does not want to be saved by you. Let her be. You are making things worse. A voice Hayame can hear, as Set's own breaks on a faint keen: Hayame, please — you have to want to live beyond this! ]
no subject
[ He comes to her, dark blade like a shadow and body pushing to the limit to greet her with the edge before she can bring her hooves down upon him. Incendiary pain tears through one of his collarbones, the other dipping back enough to avoid the rending downswing of her strength, her dangerous body. Like her, he is a weapon. Strong, even without his powers, and wily. Like this, with Meridian once again coursing through them, their strengths will meet one another, stagnating at a point that goes no higher than a particular limitation imposed upon them. Another collar around his throat, warning him that he must be smarter, more prepared, than others.
It is not his own strength of arm that makes him threatening, but his adaptability, his intellect.
She crushes half his collarbone, rends through flesh in a spray of blood and sand that collects to mitigate the worst of the pain and shed it from his mind. For at the last moment, he had turned his blade from the thrust that would carry it into the depths her body and sought a glancing slice instead. Because, he explodes. Under her as he is, he fades into a body of sand like a punch and aims to plunge blunt, up into her, and take her off all four of her feet. ]
Every hand I give to you, hoping to pull you from your misery — you are the one to reject it! Every life's line I cast, you disregard! I want you! It is you who have made it so clear that you do not want me!
[ In Communion, while his body is amorphous, it is clearer.
The voice tucked in the back of his head. The hand laced into his, urging him to push her harder, to demand she reveal herself — the melodious and calmly adoring voice of someone else: I know you care for her, but you are breaking yourself to pieces trying to save someone who does not want to be saved by you. Let her be. You are making things worse. A voice Hayame can hear, as Set's own breaks on a faint keen: Hayame, please — you have to want to live beyond this! ]