Night 44: Sun Room

[gald_digger]

[from here]

It looked like they were the first ones in the Sun Room this night. There weren't any monsters in plain sight, which was a good sign.

Or was it? Getting held up by a monster actually sounded kind of nice, for once. If it was strong enough, it could keep Sync busy - maybe even enough to derail his plans. Of course, it would also put their lives in danger, but they were in tons of danger anyway. Whoever said "better the devil you know than the devil you don't" obviously didn't know Sync the Tempest.

So even though Anise walked into the Sun Room with soft, cautious steps like she usually would, the girl inwardly found herself praying for someone or something to intercept them.

Comments

[purgatio]

It ended like defeat. The win a loss, the success a failure, and as Albedo hit his target and the body fell, the weapon felt nothing close to satisfaction. Because this was neither outcome he had desired, and currently, neither could be fulfilled with the restrictions placed on both twins. This game, this dance, he had been given tonight, turned out to be just another torment in a long line before him. Because nothing had changed (but everything). He watched apathetically as Rubedo lost consciousness, and considered his next move, unhappiness threading his being.

...His next move having nothing to deal with the black-haired sibling that shifted from the shadows, and as Albedo's luminescence lessened, he wondered, exactly, how long Nigredo had been so close without him knowing. Unsettled from that, he watched as Nigredo dropped to his knees and checked their sibling over, searching for signs of life. He would find them. Albedo couldn't kill him like this. And Rubedo wasn't currently able to kill him. It was all so funny!, but Albedo couldn't find it in him to laugh. Instead his lips pursed, and he suddenly wanted none of this. Energy thrummed within him, begging him to force his hand again, but Albedo was sick of false promises. Sick of misguided hopes screaming at him. Of seeing through a glass, darkly, and then face to face. And either way, he knew in part that it remained false--he knew, but was not known in return.

Nigredo lifted his head then, dragged his gaze to Albedo's and Albedo's eye twitched at the lack of expression. The urge to lash out at him, for looking so pitiful, was overwhelming, but not-- He couldn't. No. Couldn't. Not while Nigredo resided so close to Rubedo. It grated under his skin, and he pressed his tongue against his teeth. Did the baby want something? Explanations for the war that had happened in this room? What had he expected, from weapons? "What," he finally hissed, emotion seething underneath. He stared, frustrated, then continued, echoing a different moment between them. "Do you expect me to be anything else than what I am?"

We're weapons. We're monsters. We destroy. He would have baited Rubedo with these lines, but his twin laid silent at his feet. And Nigredo... He would not say that to. The baby, daddy's darling, should understand more than most.

Was Albedo only looking for an excuse? His waveform shuddered, emotions fluctuating. It didn't matter. Didn't matter now. Oh, no; that time was done. Ring the bells and turn out the light. Let the darkness come in again. Let him harbor his hopes and fears in silence, in solitude. There was never anything else. He already knew this. This, he knew.

[falseblack]

Albedo spoke in a manner Nigredo couldn't quite grasp.

Yet, he knew. The answer surfaced like bile at the tip of his tongue, but his lips refused to move. Declined to speak. Words were meaningless, empty. For all the elocution his brother held, he himself might have haphazardly known, there existed nothing to describe this. And what had Nigredo entertained before? The gain he once perceived was now (always) a loss. Brothers fought and died and no one--

Not one.

The shattered pieces of his consciousness drifted and settled, and base instincts took their hold. Nigredo's defined fingers curled into balls while the urge to cry surfaced once again. Except there were no tears; he had spent them all on the brother before him.

And in this, the child sent a memory, one in passing and overrun. A murmur to reflect another: {I bade thee, when I was distracted of my wits, go kill my dearest friend, and thou hast done it.}

Then, the pieces changed, an echo to replace a memory, something violet in the fringes. {I'll tell thee what I'll give thee.} Silence. {I'll give thee a pardon for this murder.}

[purgatio]

Awareness dropped. The Song, his waveform: dispersed. His face wiped clean of emotions in an instant--he stood there dumbly, gaping at his youngest sibling. The aggressor to this crime was frozen, held by constraints of shock he didn't know he kept.

Nigredo had kept to the link between them when it should have been abandoned. Kept to, and sent, a memory of something he didn't remember speaking (that he remembered speaking), from a time that didn't happen (from a time all too clear), and perfectly Nigredo gave it to him, flawed only in content, not execution. But he, too, then. Had sent it--gave it flawed. He wouldn't call judgment on that. Here, it was close enough. It would have been done, one or the other of the two halves, and it was the truth. They were a pair of hearts in hollow graves, rotten, and rotting others; their vengeance like two chained bullets--brothers. Like treason, like the plague, and they took much in blood. But yet Nigredo continued, like the two guards of hades had not given rise to things that would plague his sleep.

No sweet and golden dream, for now Albedo woke.

Forgiveness?! If Nigredo knew the words he was speaking, and how did he know those words, was that what he spoke?! Forgiveness?! Something that could not be granted, should not be granted, not by him, and not for him. Forgiveness?! He didn't ask for forgiveness, didn't require the concept, and here Nigredo spoke, and here he offered on bended knee--twins, tied to destruction, and the third to reconcile? It was too wondrous, too marvelous, too tinged with disbelief. Albedo blinked in something like wonder, paused, and considered this choice in time.

...But Nigredo had offered his hand, and Albedo would see if the youngest knew how to dance.

The entity rotated a wrist, holding out a hand perfunctorily. His face grew solemn, serious--eyes angling respectful, bordering welcoming. He didn't send, however. No, he wouldn't. Not in this. "So you tell me? Sins have been forgiven? Have I loved much? But those who are forgiven little, love little." He gained a tightness to his mouth, leaned back on the lines that currently defined them. "An ancient truth, perhaps. That kindred do commonly worse agree than remote strangers."

[falseblack]

Dry sobs racked his small frame and nothing could be seen, but Nigredo kept to the tune. Full sentences formed without effort; borrowed from a brother's mind, guided by something he once gave no ear to. {He overheard it,} he continued. His physical voice choking, reason lacking. {That was the cause I said. It lay not in me to conceal it.}

He lifted his eyes to his older brother, caught by a feature well-known without understanding the meaning. {Let us reason together. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.}

[rocksthecourt]

[from here]

Klavier opened the door just enough to peer through before reentering. He wasn't so foolhardy as to just burst in without forethought; in fact, he was probably thinking more clearly now than he had been all night. The room still held that reek of recent gunfire, but there were no sounds of rushed movements or gunshots or struggles of any kind. The light that had washed continuously over the room since the moment they had arrived was gone. He couldn't tell what this meant, and for a moment, he thought perhaps Nigredo and Rubedo had, indeed, managed to escape the room.

But that theory vanished as he soon heard a voice, instantly recognizable both in voice and context, followed by a low distant sob. He moved in quickly, wariness giving way for dread, and nearly started when he finally came upon the scene. "Nigredo! ...Rubedo!"

The floor was splattered with blood and flesh (or was that cloth?). Nigredo, shirt even more heavily drenched with blood, kneeling on the ground with that sword hanging in his hand, sobbing over another small body on the ground. Rubedo, loosely holding a gun and lying amongst the gore. And Albedo stood above it all, not appearing the least bit guilty.

He couldn't tell if the child was dead or not from where he was, nor did he want to waste time wondering. Klavier moved in quickly to stand right beside Rubedo and Nigredo almost protectively, eyes focused on Albedo and warily gaging whether he was going to attack the lot again. He could ask the state of the children later. His main focus was stopping this from progressing any further and getting these two out. "Achtung! Enough! Stop this already! This is absolutely ridiculous! Look at what you're doing! To your own brothers! Leave it be!"

[purgatio]

An eyebrow raised, and he smiled, charmed. Mindless, Nigredo was or not; perhaps, but he understood the dance. There could be hope for the youngest, yet, if he didn't go on to-- Well, another time any way. He had no need for violence with Nigredo--by now, both twins had broke him enough. Albedo couldn't raise a hand for the threat of going against what he was given. And so?

And still, Nigredo persisted in his theme. How... interesting, intriguing. Albedo's eyes shone, some kind of glee mixing with an undercurrent of panic tugging at his sleeve at the blood on the ground. No. He would know. Rubedo was not dead. Merely close. And monsters were so hard to kill. Albedo wet his lips, poised to answer, when there was a distraction instead. The man that was a shadow earlier stormed out, an easy and willing target. And this yelling... Familiar? Oh, yes, that's right: this man had done this before, screamed at him for no reason relevant. Albedo's stance abruptly changed, languid pose stiffening, small muscles shifting under skin as blood was brought to a boil once more. Tension seemed to rise as the air thickened. But first, siblings. Always. The man was ignored. This time, Albedo sent, speaking in verse sardonically; asking, promising.

{It says I am whole. It says I am clean--All is forgiven, I've been... set free.} He eyed Nigredo, wondering. His tone grew flat. {So let the blood speak for me.}

Silence was a shroud, but that soon changed. His response had been a momentary lapse in attention to the... threat, as it were; laughable at best. Still looking at Nigredo, Albedo's head tilted to the side, then slowly rotated until he was looking at Klavier. There was nothing in the weapon's face that would beg one to remember humanity--this was a weapon, a predator, and for insolence, it promised death; detached and efficient, able and willing. He stared for a moment, boring down.

At his side, his fingers moved. "Then leave," he stated darkly, lowly, tones resounding. "Or take their place instead."

[falseblack]

He moved as though to ignore, hands circling to smooth, to pamper the air around his brother's half-corpse. Impressions spoke briefly of first-aid, an act or two to stabilize the dying. Press against pressure points to slow the flow of blood. An Ether or two to mend the fissures and shattered vessels.

But Rubedo was too broken, too burnt, too smelling of raw and charred flesh, and Nigredo knew only of light and none of healing. This was a useless venture; there was no familiar technology, no reliable doctor to lean upon. His hand found Rubedo's, a finger sliding across the gun's trigger.

A shadow fell across his eyes, and he snapped. Head jerked and fingers flew, cross-hairs forming against the intruder, panic rising in the variant's eyes.

There was a click, the gun steady in his hand. "Leave," echoed Nigredo hoarsely, eyes neither seeing nor believing the form before him to be anything but an unfavorable factor.

Something shifted. Nigredo blinked. "Take also my brother."

[rocksthecourt]

There was something in that look that was so absolutely chilling, more so since it came from a child. It made him remember the atmosphere surrounding his first meeting with the boy, only a good deal darker. To his credit, Klavier stood his ground and maintained steady eye contact with the boy during what felt like a long silence, but whether that was due to defiant resolve or simply being too afraid to look away was difficult to say.

Both boys responded one right after the other, something cold in each of their words. For the life of him, he couldn't pinpoint which he found the most disturbing, which in turn bothered him greatly. Klavier swallowed silently, fully aware that this should have been considered a blessing. Albedo seemed like he wasn't planning to attack (for now) and was willing to let him leave. Rubedo needed dire attention and this was his chance to get at least him out of here and to a safer room. But the thought of leaving Nigredo alone again weighed on him, especially with the click of a gun he hadn't even noticed moved to the child's hand.

He moved only his eyes between the two and then down to Rubedo. He didn't like this. Not at all. It was systematic, logical, but with people involved, it simply hurt too much to do. Klavier pursed his lips and, with one last look, quickly scooped Rubedo up off the floor. He moved backward away from the two (somehow reluctant to turn his back immediately) before turning and rushing from the room completely.

[to here]

[purgatio]

Nigredo's echo was an amusement. Klavier leaving the room meant success to his original mission. Klavier leaving with Rubedo, however... Albedo seethed instantly, taking a step forward as warring instincts combined. What was left of sense inside of him understood entirely that Rubedo needed attention. And in the same breath? Rubedo was his, and the man couldn't just....

The Song rose infallibly, quick as a distraction in his mind, wrapping around him tight. Stopping patients from retreating was not part of the deal, now was it? Or stopping ones that would assist others so Albedo didn't negate on the other end of his deal--that rule, bound and ingrained into him despite his own will--no killing. But he knew. Knew more than anything. Rubedo wouldn't die. They hadn't had that fight yet, claws out and unnatural powers ablaze. And until they did, both would live. Horribly. Continue. Until it ended.

Violet had surrounded him again, rose up as Klavier make his move and left. As the door clicked shut, it died down somewhat, lacing across his skin like a lover's hand trailing. Gaze on the door, Albedo then looked at Nigredo. Baby had stopped playing the game, and after he was playing it so well, too. And then found his senses again, his seemingly emotionless mannerisms again; how drear. How boring. And Nigredo had allowed that incompetent fool of a man to take their sibling. How unwise.

Yes. How unwise. The man had left Nigredo alone with no distractions. A question rose to shoot at Nigredo, but Albedo conceded. There were things in the Institute that stalked the shadows, horrible monsters that came out at night, but none were worse than he was at the moment. None could touch what he was capable of. And Nigredo knew that. Clever, little brother. Very clever. Still protecting, in your hypocritical way. Still working against him.

But Albedo said none of that, that or the things that had already been said. Like he had noted, Nigredo had been damaged enough, and a toy wasn't fun if it was too broken. So instead, Albedo smirked, holding his hands out. "I sense our communion is done. How sad. I feel we were just beginning to know one another. But I'm... sure... there are other things that can keep us occupied, right?" He smiled. "You did come to play with me after all."

[falseblack]

Though his eyes trailed after the pair, Nigredo could not register the departure. Only an absence. A brother missing. Even fragmented as he was, the child understood he should have followed, taken after him like times before, but his legs wouldn't move. His knees collapsed. Nigredo fell against his hands--palms slipping, blood streaking--and shuddered in the resulting waves. He hadn't realized he, too, was hurt.

Pieces of his mind resounded in agreement. The violet haze fell away, and the child leaned into his forearms, head nestled against fists. An aspect of this moment felt familiar yet opposite: the witness now turned wreck. Beneath the strands of black hair, Nigredo looked up at Albedo, expression his usual vacant. And with the act, he understood perfectly. As he always did.

In the end, it didn't matter; comfort was not something he would be given.

"Play?" Nigredo repeated, one more echo for the count. Slowly, he pulled himself to a sitting position, arms cradling his midsection. The gun and the blade laid bare at his knees. "Yes," he continued without a smile. "Let's play together again."