It was not supposed to go like this at all. He was supposed to give her the Zenith energies he could not handle, and return to Meridian where he obviously belonged. If not that, he was supposed to rebuff her properly, to fight so that she would at least have justification for doing what she must, but instead... She stares in a mixture of shock and disbelief as Liem simply gives up in front of her very face, pulls a weapon-
And points it inward instead of aiming it at her.
For some reason, her words desert her. She thinks she will question his sanity again, she will demand to know what he is thinking, she will incite him to battle... but in the end... she finds that her hand has gripped his over the hilt of the fragile blade. His fingers tremble and hers tighten as if to shore up his resolve, yet she doesn't guide his grip into a thrust or a cut... and she doesn't urge him to put the weapon down.]
So you have honor left in you, if nothing else... ?
[What she has to do hasn't changed. There are too many Meridian who have proven weak-willed or tired, in a way she has never allowed herself to be, and if she does not neutralize them then who will? They will lose the Oracle, again, she will be forced to feel that awful, Communion-deep sense of defeat, they will be another step away from possibly returning home...
Her hand leaves his and instead... both of them then find places on Liem's temples, her grip tight and ready. If there is one thing she understands, it is the way honor demands death. Has she not been struggling all this time to return to her own world so that she might give her life to cleanse her own stain? Had she not devoted herself to the path of the honorable warrior since she'd realized that it was the only way out of the life she'd been born into?
Hayame's lips twist, so that she will not let them tremble. Help him?]
You must make the first cut yourself.
[She makes her voice cold as steel because she has to. Because it has to be done. Someone has to do it.]
But I will act as your second. You will not suffer long.
[There should be a proper blade, one sharp enough to cleave his head from his shoulders once he has shown himself honorable enough to slit open his own belly. In the absence of such a fine weapon, here amidst the roots and dirt... Hayame's fingers spasm in Liem's hair.]
no subject
It was not supposed to go like this at all. He was supposed to give her the Zenith energies he could not handle, and return to Meridian where he obviously belonged. If not that, he was supposed to rebuff her properly, to fight so that she would at least have justification for doing what she must, but instead... She stares in a mixture of shock and disbelief as Liem simply gives up in front of her very face, pulls a weapon-
And points it inward instead of aiming it at her.
For some reason, her words desert her. She thinks she will question his sanity again, she will demand to know what he is thinking, she will incite him to battle... but in the end... she finds that her hand has gripped his over the hilt of the fragile blade. His fingers tremble and hers tighten as if to shore up his resolve, yet she doesn't guide his grip into a thrust or a cut... and she doesn't urge him to put the weapon down.]
So you have honor left in you, if nothing else... ?
[What she has to do hasn't changed. There are too many Meridian who have proven weak-willed or tired, in a way she has never allowed herself to be, and if she does not neutralize them then who will? They will lose the Oracle, again, she will be forced to feel that awful, Communion-deep sense of defeat, they will be another step away from possibly returning home...
Her hand leaves his and instead... both of them then find places on Liem's temples, her grip tight and ready. If there is one thing she understands, it is the way honor demands death. Has she not been struggling all this time to return to her own world so that she might give her life to cleanse her own stain? Had she not devoted herself to the path of the honorable warrior since she'd realized that it was the only way out of the life she'd been born into?
Hayame's lips twist, so that she will not let them tremble. Help him?]
You must make the first cut yourself.
[She makes her voice cold as steel because she has to. Because it has to be done. Someone has to do it.]
But I will act as your second. You will not suffer long.
[There should be a proper blade, one sharp enough to cleave his head from his shoulders once he has shown himself honorable enough to slit open his own belly. In the absence of such a fine weapon, here amidst the roots and dirt... Hayame's fingers spasm in Liem's hair.]