[how do you write so many beautiful long paragraphs so fast sisi
Maybe he's right. Maybe they had no clues in the right direction. Maybe it was doomed to be a failure from the start.
At least they know now what a wrong vote looks like. The announcements for Roxana and Siffrin didn't use the same wording. Instant confirmation.]
I know. [She chokes. Wrenches her eyes shut, letting her fingers curl tight into the back of his jacket.] I know, I know, it's just...I wanted so badly to help. To make things right. And seeing what happened, where my instincts led me?
I can't believe it. They didn't do anything. They're going to die and they didn't do anything!
[ I REALLY DONT as you can see i am tagging this days later,
the tightening of the fingers in his jacket has him doing much the same - his grip is steady and strong, bracing, and she'll feel the way his head turns like in an angry flinch, overwhelmed briefly with fury and injustice. not at her, or her words, but at the situation, the way he'd rather throw himself into that ring than to accuse someone innocent and watch them die for their mistakes. he'd been furious when they thought last week, too. turned out to be wrong.
can't get lucky twice. ]
I know. [ and the alternative was what? artemy, who had died over and over and over? a teenager, who if he did likely did it out of a forced possession? ] I know, I know. It's a farce, the whole damned thing is a farce, and we'll destroy it from the inside out from putting them in this situation in the first place. All of it.
[ his voice is low, affected, trying to let those words ripple through, thinking, and then, softly: ]
We will. [she echoes. There's a strange comfort in the power of his rage. She can't hit the same heights, not with the same force or effect. It's as if he soaks up the pain of the earth and unleashes it in flares, in righteous words. In the need to do right.
It's frightening. And it's admirable. She closes her eyes and listens to the pump of his chest. Even when he questions her, she doesn't lift away.]
...I'll do everything I can to help everyone. To find the truth.
I never wanted to be in Siffrin's position, Strohl. It was never about that. I'd only hoped to spare someone else the pain and shock of it, even just getting a few stray votes. I didn't think it would ever come to this.
anyway. he's quiet for a long moment as she answers him; almost reflexively, his arms tighten. ]
... I know you will. [ strohl's voice is rough when he gets sincere; it's like the intensity of his emotions burns out and leaves something behind, the burnt rubble of halia made in a man. it rumbles in his chest as he speaks quietly. ] And I know what you mean.
[ regarding siffrin's position, about sparing someone else the pain and suffering. he gets it. like so many times before, he gets it. it's so much easier to take the brunt of the pain yourself. it's so much easier not to watch the people you come to love and care for take hit after hit. be forced to dangle along in this cruel game.
a little of the tension comes out of his shoulders, bleeding out in some of the exhaustion, and absently, almost, his hand pets between her shoulder blades, reassuring. bolstering. for her, but maybe for himself, a little, too. his heart beats true for another week, the very same one that became a resonant vessel all those months ago. heart of a warrior, heart of an archetype. ]
That's what I have to hold onto, too. If we can help someone, then we reach out our hand to help them - and if we fail, we never, ever forget what went wrong, but we have to keep moving forward for all that we strive for. We do all we can.
Sometimes it's not enough. But so long as you'll keep trying, your highness, I'll stand right there beside you to the end.
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no subject
Maybe he's right. Maybe they had no clues in the right direction. Maybe it was doomed to be a failure from the start.
At least they know now what a wrong vote looks like. The announcements for Roxana and Siffrin didn't use the same wording. Instant confirmation.]
I know. [She chokes. Wrenches her eyes shut, letting her fingers curl tight into the back of his jacket.] I know, I know, it's just...I wanted so badly to help. To make things right. And seeing what happened, where my instincts led me?
I can't believe it. They didn't do anything. They're going to die and they didn't do anything!
no subject
the tightening of the fingers in his jacket has him doing much the same - his grip is steady and strong, bracing, and she'll feel the way his head turns like in an angry flinch, overwhelmed briefly with fury and injustice. not at her, or her words, but at the situation, the way he'd rather throw himself into that ring than to accuse someone innocent and watch them die for their mistakes. he'd been furious when they thought last week, too. turned out to be wrong.
can't get lucky twice. ]
I know. [ and the alternative was what? artemy, who had died over and over and over? a teenager, who if he did likely did it out of a forced possession? ] I know, I know. It's a farce, the whole damned thing is a farce, and we'll destroy it from the inside out from putting them in this situation in the first place. All of it.
[ his voice is low, affected, trying to let those words ripple through, thinking, and then, softly: ]
...Are you going to stop trying to help?
no subject
We will. [she echoes. There's a strange comfort in the power of his rage. She can't hit the same heights, not with the same force or effect. It's as if he soaks up the pain of the earth and unleashes it in flares, in righteous words. In the need to do right.
It's frightening. And it's admirable. She closes her eyes and listens to the pump of his chest. Even when he questions her, she doesn't lift away.]
...I'll do everything I can to help everyone. To find the truth.
I never wanted to be in Siffrin's position, Strohl. It was never about that. I'd only hoped to spare someone else the pain and shock of it, even just getting a few stray votes. I didn't think it would ever come to this.
no subject
anyway. he's quiet for a long moment as she answers him; almost reflexively, his arms tighten. ]
... I know you will. [ strohl's voice is rough when he gets sincere; it's like the intensity of his emotions burns out and leaves something behind, the burnt rubble of halia made in a man. it rumbles in his chest as he speaks quietly. ] And I know what you mean.
[ regarding siffrin's position, about sparing someone else the pain and suffering. he gets it. like so many times before, he gets it. it's so much easier to take the brunt of the pain yourself. it's so much easier not to watch the people you come to love and care for take hit after hit. be forced to dangle along in this cruel game.
a little of the tension comes out of his shoulders, bleeding out in some of the exhaustion, and absently, almost, his hand pets between her shoulder blades, reassuring. bolstering. for her, but maybe for himself, a little, too. his heart beats true for another week, the very same one that became a resonant vessel all those months ago. heart of a warrior, heart of an archetype. ]
That's what I have to hold onto, too. If we can help someone, then we reach out our hand to help them - and if we fail, we never, ever forget what went wrong, but we have to keep moving forward for all that we strive for. We do all we can.
Sometimes it's not enough. But so long as you'll keep trying, your highness, I'll stand right there beside you to the end.