Then he’s useless. The disdain in the thought was both familiar and appalling. A few shows of sacrifice couldn’t countermand something so inherently hateful as the sesshouseki--not for long, at least.
She knew she was slipping back under its guidance, which was why she didn’t move, or scream, or beg the strange man for help. She just looked back at him, expression placid if not a little solemn at the edges, and gave a slight shake of her head. His questions were already growing tiring; answering them the way they needed to be answered involved care and thoughtfulness, things that felt far out of her reach at the moment. He would learn eventually, anyway. Friend or foe, monster or human… they all learned.
Yomi started to turn away but the sound of the intercom startled her into stillness. That voice. Did she need any more proof that this was still Landel’s Institute? There was that voice. The sound of it cut straight through the shell of impassivity she‘d wrapped herself in, making her bite her lip. She had difficulty naming the emotion that welled in her chest as Landel spoke. Fear? Anger? Disappointment? Landel had been there in the Coliseum stands, had watched her stumble headlong into her own “death,” had probably laughed at her stupidity. Knowing all along that she would be brought back, a failed martyr.
Her fingers clenched tight around the katana’s hilt until her hand shook. Shit!
The only thing she’d thought to do before leaving her cell had been to grab her sword, and she was a little grateful now that she’d forgotten to tie her hair up. It acted like a curtain, shielding her face from view until she felt she had her expression under control again. A stupid worry, maybe. Depending on what kind of perception the man had, there was every chance he had already seen what was hiding beneath her veneer of skin and bones.
If that was the case, though, she didn’t think he would still be talking to her so calmly.
After a few moments, Yomi thought she was well enough to answer. "Yes. It is." Her tone was weary. "If you don’t want to suffer, don’t do what he says."
no subject
She knew she was slipping back under its guidance, which was why she didn’t move, or scream, or beg the strange man for help. She just looked back at him, expression placid if not a little solemn at the edges, and gave a slight shake of her head. His questions were already growing tiring; answering them the way they needed to be answered involved care and thoughtfulness, things that felt far out of her reach at the moment. He would learn eventually, anyway. Friend or foe, monster or human… they all learned.
Yomi started to turn away but the sound of the intercom startled her into stillness. That voice. Did she need any more proof that this was still Landel’s Institute? There was that voice. The sound of it cut straight through the shell of impassivity she‘d wrapped herself in, making her bite her lip. She had difficulty naming the emotion that welled in her chest as Landel spoke. Fear? Anger? Disappointment? Landel had been there in the Coliseum stands, had watched her stumble headlong into her own “death,” had probably laughed at her stupidity. Knowing all along that she would be brought back, a failed martyr.
Her fingers clenched tight around the katana’s hilt until her hand shook. Shit!
The only thing she’d thought to do before leaving her cell had been to grab her sword, and she was a little grateful now that she’d forgotten to tie her hair up. It acted like a curtain, shielding her face from view until she felt she had her expression under control again. A stupid worry, maybe. Depending on what kind of perception the man had, there was every chance he had already seen what was hiding beneath her veneer of skin and bones.
If that was the case, though, she didn’t think he would still be talking to her so calmly.
After a few moments, Yomi thought she was well enough to answer. "Yes. It is." Her tone was weary. "If you don’t want to suffer, don’t do what he says."