RP:By The Light Of The Full Moons
This is a Devout's Guild RP.
Summary: Still being led to believe that their lives have always been this way, thanks to Viera (ie: Fem!Brand and Dude!Khitti), Viera uses her magic to make Brand believe she was pregnant and miscarried, and eventually offers to hold a ritual to help the couple. Things don't go according to plan, because helping Khitti and Brand was never the plan in the first place...
The Apartment Above The Bakery, Cenril
Brand || Several days after their trip to Frostmaw, Khitti and Brand were back in their apartment in Cenril. The two were snuggled on the couch, half watching Dominic play with his chickens and his alphabet blocks on the far side of the living room. Brand had been trying to read a book, but was having a hard time focusing on it. Her eyes kept wandering to Dominic, and her heart almost quivered in her chest each time she locked eyes with him. She didn’t realize she was crying until she had to sniffle, and the realization seemed to further break something within her. Pretty soon, she was sobbing into Khitti’s shoulder, not even trying to hide it from him anymore, only Dominic.
Khitti || It took Khitti only two confused blinks before he pulled Brand over into his lap and hugged her. “Hey… what’s wrong?” he whispered, kissing her cheek. He looked over at Dominic briefly, making sure he wasn’t paying attention, since it was rather obvious that Brand didn’t want Dominic to know she was crying. He wasn’t, of course. Dominic was in his own little chicken-infested world without a single care of anything going on around him. If he knew, he’d likely try to comfort Brand, however.
Brand couldn’t stand it. Some part of her knew she wasn’t normally a crier, that in fact none of this was normal. But with her face tucked into Khitti’s neck and their arms wrapped around each other, she couldn’t help herself. There was no closing these floodgates now. It took all her effort just to stop enough to speak. “I -- I was pregnant.” That single ‘was’ hung in the air, one little word with the weight of so much more. “Two months, maybe a little more. I’d been trying to find the right time to tell you, ‘cause I know we haven’t talked about having more kids and I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. And then, this morning, I woke up and --” She couldn’t finish, but she didn’t need to. The implication was clear.
Khitti’s look of concern only worsened as Brand explained things. He hugged her tighter as she spoke and when she was finished, Khitti put a hand under her chin to get her to look at him. “Of course I want to have more with you. This isn’t your fault though, okay? It’s just something that happens. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s probably mine for dragging you around all over Lithrydel and making you use up all that magic when you’re still in training.” For some reason, the whole not being able to have a kid thing resonated with Khitti. It’s not like there weren’t dudes that couldn’t have kids, but… this felt different and Khitti couldn’t quite place it, but it made him all the more attentive to Brand’s crying and need to be comforted.
Brand || What is time if not an illusion? Of course Viera could manipulate their sense of it, like all the rest. For Khitti and Brand, it would seem as if a year had passed in what had really only been a few days. In that year, they had tried and failed to have another child several times, and with each miscarriage Brand grew a little more distraught and a little more desperate. Was there something wrong with her? Was she not praying hard enough? Was this a punishment for something she’d done? She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was penance for some wrong she couldn’t remember committing, and in a way she was right. When she was finally ready to ask for outside help about their troubles conceiving, Viera was there, waiting. To get them to this point had been the plan all along.
Brand || “Well of -course- you’re having trouble,” Viera said, her voice kindly. She was standing at the entrance to their apartment, where Brand had opened the door with red, puffy eyes and still-visible tear streaks. They were meant to have another magic lesson, but when Viera had seen Brand’s face and asked what was wrong, the whole story came pouring out. “Listen, sunshine. This is a test of faith. Pass it, and Cire will grant you many blessings. But it may take some time. If you and your husband want a faster path, I may know a way…”
Khitti || Over the span of time that Viera had been teaching Brand, Khitti grew to not like the Catalian woman very much. It didn’t help that Dominic didn’t like her either. Dominic loved -everyone- and yet, Viera was somehow not on that list. Dominic would probably offer up his crayons to some fierce, murderous pirate and teach them how to draw stick figures and ships that looked like whales before he ever considered giving even just a stub of one to Viera. This whole going to Brand’s teacher for help with getting pregnant was probably far worse than Khitti going to Gevurah for help with her vampirism cure--though neither of them would remember that. This Khitti now felt the same wrongness Brand had felt back then, as the two of them participated in Gevurah’s blood ritual to gain Vakmatharas’ favor--or his “blessing” as Facilier had worded it.
Khitti stood behind Brand now, those olive-green eyes of his fixed on the priestess of Cire as she lurked in the doorway, waiting to be fully let in. She reminded him somewhat of that myth about vampires where they had to be invited into someone’s house, only for the owner of said house to be preyed upon. It had taken some time for those same eyes to circle back around to staring at the woman with hatred, after all those weeks of staring at her with love and adoration. The stare she was being given now was a silent warning, similar to one that had been given months ago after Viera made her first appearance before promptly wiping Khitti’s memory: ‘If you hurt Brand, I will kill you.’ But if Brand turned around to look at him? Nothing would be amiss. His dear, grief-stricken wife would only receive a faint smile and a slight squeeze on her shoulder. Everything was perfectly fine. Except it wasn’t. -At all.-
Viera wasn’t bothered by Khitti’s coldness. He wasn’t the target, Brand was. And Brand was all too eager for a solution. She welcomed the priestess inside, offered her some tea, then settled into a seat next to her with room for Khitti on the other side. Brand knew how Khitti felt about Viera, but as far as Brand knew, Viera had only ever been kind and helpful, and a friend in time of need -- as she was about to be now.
Brand || “There’s a ritual,” Viera explained, “that can only be performed on the first full moons of the year. That’s tonight, it just so happens, so I’m afraid you don’t have a lot of time to decide unless you want to wait another year.” The timing was all too convenient, but of course Brand in her desperation wouldn’t think anything of it. “I won’t lie, the requirements for the participants -- that’d be you two -- can be rather grueling. And you’d be promising your child’s life to the worship and glory of Cire, in exchange for that child having life at all. That usually just means the child must be brought up according to our traditions and is free to live their own life otherwise, but… occasionally Cire has been known to demand a higher calling of such a child. That could mean priesthood or… something more.” Viera leaned back and sipped casually at her tea, watching the couple from over the lip of her cup. Barely had she done so when Brand leaped forward to the edge of her seat.
Brand || “We’ll do it,” Brand said, her eyes wide with hope. She turned, and squeezed Khitti’s hand, and begged with her eyes. “Um, as long as it’s all right with my husband. Khitti?” Please, her eyes begged. Please. Please say yes.
Khitti || The amount of obligation Khitti felt to say yes to this whole thing was overwhelming. Like he owed Brand for a similar ritual from some years past. And yet... “So, let me get this straight. You want us to go along with this little ritual of yours and in the end… what? Our child possibly eventually becomes an unwilling sacrifice to Cire?” Khitti smirked bitterly at the blonde woman, “Oh, Viera. You sound as bad as those Vakmatharas cultists that I’m loathed to call my fellow followers.” He turned to his wife, “I know you’re desperate, but you can’t possibly think this is a good idea, Brand. Your grief is blinding you from recognizing the things she’s literally telling you to your face as bad. I’d rather sacrifice all my dead family members for something like this rather than do this, have the kid, and eventually have them get taken away from us in whatever manner Cire or Viera seem fit. There has to be other ways. We can talk to Callum or something. I know he’s not exactly keen on us, but he’ll do anything for money.”
Brand || Viera looked genuinely appalled, maybe even offended. “Sacrifice? Nobody ever said anything about sacrifice. Cire is not Vakmatharas, Khitti, and you should know by now that you have an open invitation to any of our services should you like to learn the difference for yourself. Cire would manipulate a life, perhaps, but never ask to prematurely end one. Us mortals do enough of that on our own.” She passed a curious look to Brand at that. The mask of friendship had slipped, for a fragment of a second. But Brand, of course, did not see it. “At most, your child would be called to lifelong mentorship as I have been, to teach others of the ways of Cire and bring others under the great one’s wing, to guard and keep the altars and sacred places that exist around the realm. And they would be -called-, Khitti. They would feel the joy of acting in Cire’s service, as I do, and they would do so willingly. They would be blessed with the attentions of a god. They would never suffer needlessly, nor wonder what their place in life was meant to be. The ‘worst case scenario’ is still a full and vibrant life. That’s more than you could ever ask from the god of death.”
Brand clung to Khitti’s arm. “I trust her, Khitti. And I trust Cire. If Viera says there’s a way, we should at least try, shouldn’t we?”
Khitti sneered at the Catalian, “I wouldn’t even be here right now if it wasn’t for three gods, Viera--Vakmatharas included--so don’t lecture me on their blessings and doing work in their name. You forget who I am and the things that I do. And you forget yourself and whose house you’re in.” He quieted for a moment, turning his attention to Brand. She wanted this so very much and it plucked at memories and emotions that Khitti didn’t even realize he had and couldn’t quite remember, though it was clear that there was -something- there within the shadows of his mind. The desperation was so familiar… The need to do anything to get what you wanted, no matter the cost. It turned his stomach. He offered his wife nothing more than a grim frown. He had vowed, at their wedding, to never leave her and to always protect her, but things were starting to feel like he couldn’t. There was something lurking in the darkness and for all of Khitti’s love of shadows and working with them, there was still something there he was blind to.
Khitti || “I don’t like you,” he said, his attention shifting back to Viera. “But she does and that’s the only reason why you’re under this roof right now. The gods do as they please and I have no control over that, but their followers? They’re the ones I really don’t trust. The zealots. The dealmakers saying they work their magic in their gods’ name only for it to be nothing more than for their own gain. They’re all over that good versus evil spectrum everyone’s so concerned with. I would tell you the same if you worked for Selene or Arkhen or any of the others. I don’t trust you, but Brand does, and if anything comes of this… if there’s even a whiff of something off or if she’s harmed, I will personally introduce you to -my- god, Viera.” He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Yes.”
Brand could barely process any of Khitti’s words. Once she heard that ‘yes’, it was all that mattered. She was practically bouncing, she was so elated. “You mean you’ll do it?! Oh, Khitti, thank you, thank you.” Her eyes were brimming with tears again, but she was smiling. She’d never wanted anything so much in her life. It was a far cry from the man who’d once panicked at the mere mention of having children, who in fact hadn’t wanted a family or a lover at all, who had tried so hard to push Khitti and anyone else away before they could get close. With those memories gone and Brand’s sense of self so thoroughly twisted by magic, this felt as real and as deep as anything Brand had ever felt.
Brand || Viera, meanwhile, had heard Khitti’s words perfectly well, but seemed completely unphased by them. “You don’t have to like me, and you don’t have to like what I do. You just have to do as you’re told when the time comes.” She rose from her chair and placed a tender hand on Brand’s cheek. “We’ll cancel today’s lesson. I need time to prepare. Meet me at the seaside altar, two hours past sundown. Make sure you lay with one another beforehand. Bring clean bandages and a change of clothes for each of you, and wear something you’re okay with getting torn or damaged for the ritual itself. I’ll provide everything else.” She walked to the door, preparing to let herself out. She stopped at the threshold. “Oh, and… a little extra prayer couldn’t hurt, particularly if it comes from Khitti.” With that, she was gone.
Khitti fully envisioned throwing a dark purple ball of fire aimed squarely at the back of Viera’s head as she waltzed out of the apartment. His attention returned to his wife, who was so clearly elated by his answer that it made Khitti’s currently icy heart melt a little. Just a little. He was still pretty pissed. He did try his best to hide it though by pulling Brand into a brief hug, accompanied by a kiss on her head, before he went into the bedroom to empty out his satchel and throw the things into it that were required for this damned ritual. As for the prayer? Oh, Khitti would pray. Khitti would pray to Cyris for the strength to free his wife of this woman. He’d ask Delisha for enough time to get full enjoyment out of punching Viera’s smile right off her face. And he’d beg Vakmatharas to put Viera through each and every one of those seven hells the Catalians are always talking about. It’s likely not what Viera was asking for, but hey, she wasn’t specific, was she?
Seaside Altar, Cenril
Brand || Night would soon come, and the couple set off for the ocean with all their preparations made. It was clear Brand was nervous from the way she huddled close to Khitti, but she never said a word about it. She silently led the way to the seaside altar, where the high tide had surrounded the stones in knee-deep water. Viera was waiting for them, her dress almost luminescent under the light of the moon, its edges floating like seaweed along the waves.
Brand || “Come,” she said, and beckoned Brand forward. With one last glance to Khitti, Brand removed her shoes and waded in. Viera helped her climb onto the altar and lay down upon it. Then, it was Khitti’s turn. An old tree stood some few feet from the end of the altar, branchless and long dead, the bark worn smooth by centuries of ocean and rain. Despite its age, it stood strong and unrotten. A number of spindly ends reached up toward the sky, evoking the image of fingers on an outstretched hand. “You’re not going to like this,” Viera admitted, “but I’m supposed to tie you to the tree.”
Khitti || “Brand…” Khitti reached out for her as she pulled away, but she neither saw nor heard him. He watched as Viera helped her onto the altar, that signature frown of his on display for all to see. Khitti’s stomach churned with ill feelings, the Amarrah-esque butterflies of fear and anxiety making him nauseous and bringing tears to his eyes. Viera spoke and Khitti barely heard her. It was almost as if he was being brainwashed all over again as she led him to the tree to be tied up and he listened without hesitation.
Khitti || The darkness that Brand had spoken of, that was looming over the two of them, it was here now and Khitti could feel it. Every nerve in Khitti’s body screamed it and he suddenly got as desperate as Brand had been and was now. The realization that he had indeed been tied to the tree hit him and he got all the more panicky. “Brand. Come untie me and we can figure this out together. We don’t need her help. We don’t need Cire. We don’t need the gods. But I need -you-. Please come back to me. Please… I don’t trust her. -Dominic- doesn’t trust her. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?!” The sickness was overwhelming and the tears came back. Khitti had tried to be calm, but the longer he stayed tied there, the more the mask of the cool, collected, completely in control Khitti went away.
Brand || When Brand sat up, she too had tears in her eyes. Viera stood by in silent watchfulness as Brand plunged back into the water and wrapped her arms around Khitti. “I know you’re scared. I am, too. But I’m more scared of what happens if we -don’t- do this. And what about -my- trust? I trust her, Khitti. Do you trust me?”
Khitti || For once in his life, since meeting Brand, Khitti had the urge to say ‘no’ when it came to the matter of trust. He bit it back and buried it down deep in the maelstrom in his stomach and just stared at her with that worry still planted on his face. With a sigh, he nodded, kissed her, and let her return to her place for the ritual. He tried to return to that quiet aloofness of his, but even Brand would know that he still wished to argue it further, to try to get her to see reason. But, all reason was gone now and there was not a thing Khitti could say that would deter Brand from this. So, he just stood there and watched sadly as Viera finally started the ritual.
Brand’s heart ached terribly as she climbed back to her place on the altar, but her mind was set and there was no changing it now. She wanted to do this. She -had- to do this. And if she didn’t do it now, she’d have to wait an entire year for the opportunity to do it again.
Brand || Viera waited until Brand was back into position, and then… it began. Before Khitti could even see the knife Viera held, she’d sliced the man’s abdomen and thighs, letting the blood stain his clothes and trickle down into the water below. Brand fell victim to the same knife, her arms and stomach carved up to spill blood onto the altar. Viera retrieved a cup of crushed seeds and mixed it with blood from both participants, along with fluid from an unmarked glass bottle. She helped Brand sit up just enough to be able to drink from it, shushing Brand’s pained cries as she did so. “The wounds are shallow and will heal. I daresay they won’t even leave scars. Now, drink. Quickly.”
Brand || The potion burned worse than the harshest liquor, hotter than the wrath of gods. Brand choked it down and collapsed upon the altar once more, staring up at the stars, her heart drumming in time to Viera’s chants. It wasn’t anything Catalian, and it wasn’t anything she’d heard in Lithrydel. This was something… other. Something terrifying. Maybe Khitti was right. Maybe something horrible was about to happen. But her muscles had stopped obeying her, and her tongue had turned thick and dry in her mouth. There was no stopping this, not now.
Khitti could only watch as Viera first cut into him and then cut into his wife. It was like staring at a scene from his past, all the way back when he was just a teen in Dhavislaav. Brand’s cries stirred something in him, and as she was forced to drink that horrid concoction, Khitti’s blood boiled. He struggled a bit with the rope that bound him, temporarily forgetting that, duh, he could just set the rope and the whole damn tree on fire. And when he realized it, he did. The tree erupted into violet flames and Khitti was soon shadowstepping over to the altar, behind Viera. Khitti wasn’t sure if touching Brand would make things worse, so this was hopefully the next best way to put a stop to things. One arm went to wrap tight around Viera’s neck, while the other tried to grab at her waist, Khitti’s body turned somewhat at an angle so that his hip would dig into the Catalian’s back. It was a position he’d learned quite a long time ago from the very same person who was laying on the altar, back when a certain redhead vampire was practicing magic and brawling with Brand just before getting captured by a dragon and thrown into a jar for months. Never having had a formal teacher for… well… anything really, when it came to combat, he’d always commit stuff to memory--especially techniques that Brand and Lionel used. Without the memory there of that “training session” (that was really nothing more than two tsunderes flirting with each other), it was nothing more than muscle memory at this point. Or something along those lines.
Brand || The problem with trying to fight Viera was that, unbeknownst to either of them, she didn’t actually have a body. She was only solid when she wanted to be. And so Khitti found nothing to cling on to, and Viera slipped out of Khitti’s grasp as easily as a shadow. Her chanting only grew louder, more urgent. Tentacles shot up from the depths, restraining Khitti once again, pinning his back against the tree even as it still burned. A great, unnatural wave rose from nowhere, and with a roar like a feral beast it crashed down upon them. The flames were at once extinguished. Salt stung at their wounds. The altar and all its surroundings were plunged into a watery murk. And from above them, where ocean met sky, a hulking figure with innumerable glowing eyes looked down upon their presence. Brand assumed she was seeing the god itself, though there was no way to know for sure.
Brand || And then… the water receded. They could breathe again. The moon lit up the night sky, and the many-eyed creature was gone -- if indeed it had ever been there at all. The tentacles restraining Khitti were nowhere to be found. Brand vomited off the side of the altar, her mouth spilling seawater and minnows. Everything ached, her throat still seared with pain, and the contents of her stomach seemed to have no end. Viera held her hair back, tender as a lover, with barely a glance spared for the man who’d tried to harm her. “It’s okay now,” she whispered. “It’s over. You were perfect. And look what your performance has wrought.”
Brand || Blearily, Brand turned and swallowed back the rest of her bile. Her gaze followed Viera’s hand as it traced down her side. Underneath the cuts on her stomach -- she saw now it was a sigil in Cire’s honor -- a small dome had already formed. Brand wore a smile on her face even as her vision dimmed and she lost her final shred of consciousness.
Khitti || It didn’t take long for things to get from bad to worse. The tentacles restrained Khitti and the wave overwhelmed all. While Brand was content to lay beneath the many-eyed “god”, Khitti screamed for her, but it came out as naught but bubbles. When it all dissipated and the water was gone, Khitti threw up his own fair share of water before slowly trudging along through the shallows to get to the altar again. This time, he did pick up Brand--as well as her new addition, thanks to Viera. He ignored the blonde woman just as she had ignored him and slowly headed for home, leaving a muddy trail behind him as his, and Brand's, soaked clothes dripped along the way.
The Apartment Above The Bakery, Cenril
Khitti was numb. Numb to the salt that clung to his wounds. Numb to the fact that Brand was unconscious. Numb to the world as a whole. He took Brand into their washroom, changed her out of her wet clothes and into something dry. He couldn't even look at her anymore than need be to take care of her and deposit her into bed for now. He did not join Brand in bed, instead choosing to collapse on the couch once his own clothes were dealt with.
Khitti || There, he'd have a fitful night's sleep. He'd dream of eyes and tentacles lurking beneath the waves. He'd dream of being swallowed up by the ocean at Viera's command, just as he had months ago. And when he awoke, something had changed. Whether it was Cire's doing, or Viera's extreme use of her magic the night before, or even Khitti's own gods' help--he remembered. The numbness had gone, but something else had remained; an inky blackness had welled up in Khitti's stomach, both real and metaphorical. As the shock wore off, Khitti threw up the dark liquid in the kitchen, his body purging the rest of Viera's awful magic. The couch was soon his refuge again, the ceiling a blank slate to stare at. Khitti remembered -everything-. Every terrible thing Viera had done and the anguish she put Khitti's family through. The fact that all these years together, Brand couldn't even tell Khitti the truth.The new body Khitti had was paid no mind. Nothing else mattered right now, besides remembering and plotting his revenge.
Brand dreamed of bliss unbridled. Waves of pleasure rolled through her, one after the next, unrelenting. She heard colors and tasted song. And when she awoke, she found her wounds had healed as if they'd never been there at all. The bliss remained, as powerful as it had been in sleep. She cradled the soft orb of her stomach, weeping with joy and relief, mouthing prayers of thanks to the god who had made it all possible. The only thing missing was...
Brand || Khitti. Where had he gone off to? It wasn't like him to leave the room without waking her. Curiosity overcame her eventually, and she made an effort to rise from the bed only to be conquered by a rush of dizziness. The second time, her legs gave out from under her and she dropped to the floor. She grabbed the dresser for support on the third try, and with trembling limbs she pulled herself along furniture and walls until she stood, swaying, in the doorway.
Khitti || Brand could pull herself through the apartment all she liked but Khitti wasn't there. It was still some ten to fifteen minutes before he -did- return. He'd fumbled with the door knob several times, got pissed off, kicked the door, then shadowstepped through it, muttering various obscenities to himself. Assuming Brand was still asleep, he didn't even bother to look around the apartment. Wholly focused on his task, Khitti threw different types of foods he'd bought into the fridge. He'd almost done nothing at all and was keen on letting Brand entirely fend for herself, but he knew that wouldn't fly and that that bitch Viera would mindwipe him again.
It didn't help that there seemed to be some false memories in his head still. Dominic's birth via Khitti--as traumatic as it was--was still there as clear as day, but every so often memories of Brand being the one to do it flickered into view, like a movie whose film reel had been spliced with something else. This only served to piss Khitti off more and after closing the icebox's door, he punched it. The sting of it didn't even register in his head; it hurt but it was dulled by his rage. He was so angry, he thought he might cry again, like he had that morning. Everything was ruined. Nothing would be the same again. Khitti was going to fix Brand's mistakes and then Khitti was going to leave, and this time he was certain he wasn't going to come back.
Brand || “Credit where credit’s due -- you have far more strength of will than I imagined. I suppose that’s why he fell for you, isn’t it? He never could resist a feisty woman.” Viera had appeared mere inches behind Khitti, almost as if to throw in his face that she was untouchable. If Khitti tried to throw a punch, Viera would simply vanish and reappear in a different spot, the same wicked smirk on her face. If Khitti tried to leave, Viera would follow. There would be no escaping her. Not now, not ever. “But you should know it won’t make a difference. What’s been set in motion cannot now be undone. I -can-, however, offer you a choice. Call it a… token of my respect for you.”
Khitti || “I doubt it was strength of will. You’re not the first to manipulate me like this and I’m sure you won’t be the last. I apparently attract miserable creatures like you, although this time it’s obviously through someone else,” Khitti said, stepping away from Viera. He didn’t leave though and merely put his back to the front door, eyeing her cooly. “I’d like to think it was divine intervention. I wasn’t lying when I told you months ago I knew what it was like to be burned alive or yesterday, when I said the gods brought me back from the dead. You work for Cire. -One- god. One who’s relatively new compared to the others. I work with -three-. Three very old gods that don’t waste their magic on just anyone. You can’t -seriously- think they would’ve allowed that to go unchecked forever? Cyris? God of Freedom? You’ve been frakking about with his domain and I’m certain he doesn’t like it. He might be considered a “good” god, but he’s probably the biggest asshole out of all of them. It’s why him and I get along so well, even after chucking his sword into the ocean.” Khitti shook his head. I -won’t- stay like this. I have broken my chains countless times… and yours will be next.”
Khitti || “You can offer your choice.” There was an amused smirk on Khitti’s face. “But, I know your type. It’s really not a choice. It’s -never- a choice.”
Brand || Viera tapped a finger to her chin in mock thought. “No, I suppose it isn’t much of one, from your point of view. Either way, I get what I want in the end. Either way, Brand dies when this is over. But I imagine you’d want your last days together to be happy, rather than full of unnecessary pain. I could erase your memories again. I’ll probably do it either way, honestly. But I thought, since you’d already broken free once, that I would offer you the opportunity to submit willingly. And when it’s over, I’ll remake your reality however you need it to be, to best move on. Because ultimately, it’s not your strife I’m after -- it’s Brand’s. You were just...” she waved her hands vaguely. “...in the way.”
Khitti || "See, here's the thing though. -You're- in the way. I worked hard for all of this. I -died- for all of this... And you took it away from me. You're just as bad as Brand," Khitti said, chuckling a little. "So, you can assume things are going according to plan for yourself, Viera. But... they're not. You've made mistakes. You should've just killed me in the beginning. Because now? Now I'm going to torture you worse than whatever Brand did to you." He stepped forward, stopping just in front of her, a sickeningly sweet smile planted on his face. "You probably -should- erase my memories again. Because honestly? I want to kill Brand now too. Both of you ruined everything. Both of you are terrible people. I could've helped you. I could've given you anything you wanted if it would help you move past what happened. Instead, you chose this route. And now you're going to suffer." Khitti shrugged. "So work your magic, you leech. But remember, when you think you've won... when you think you're safe, I will find you and rip you from whatever you put your ugly little spirit into next and you will beg for your true death over and over again, but you will never, ever get it." The cruel, cold smile returned as he stared at her. He resisted the urge to set Brand on fire and end all of this. Would he eventually regret it? Probably. Right now, it seemed like the easiest solution to all of this. But, Khitti wouldn't. Instead, he just stood there, waiting.
Brand || Viera put on a show of looking bored, searching for nonexistent dirt under her nonexistent nails. She didn’t bother looking up even when Khitti was finished, just flicked away an invisible speck of grime and sighed. “Do you feel better now that you’ve gotten that out of your system? Good.” And in a flash, Viera was gone and Khitti’s memories were warped again, much as they were before. Even the memory of the ritual had changed to become something far more pleasant than it had been in reality. And Viera? Why, Viera was a long-time family friend, and someone Khitti should trust with his life. That trust would surely unravel again eventually, be it through Dominic again or through some other means, but for now Viera’s magic made sure it would hold.
Brand || Khitti would barely have time to reorient himself before he’d hear a distant thud, a breaking of glass, and a sharp cry. Somewhere in the house, Brand had blacked out while Viera recast her wicked spell. The vase Brand had grabbed at for support was nowhere near heavy enough to resist her weight, and both she and the vase had toppled to the floor. So much for all those healed cuts -- she’d have new ones now, scattered across her hands and arms where the shards had impaled themselves in her skin. Scattered water and half-wilted flowers completed the mess of a scene as Brand struggled to pick herself up.
Khitti looked like he was going to say more after Viera had finished feigning boredom. Something about her being a stuck-up, emotionless cow. But, it didn’t all come out in time and soon Khitti had his mind altered, yet again, for the third time. Whenever this was over with, Khitti probably should have Lennier take a look at his head to make sure there’s no brain damage from that. Khitti stood there a moment, trying to figure out just what the heck he was doing in the kitchen, until he heard the crash. “Brand?” He’d find her eventually and quickly scooped her up off the floor, trying to be careful when it came to all the cuts. “What did Viera and I tell you, woman? You stay in bed today. You’ve been in and out since the ritual finished and you’re in no state to wander around. What if I hadn’t been here, hm?” Avoiding cutting his own self on any of the shards, Khitti carried Brand into the bedroom and set her carefully onto the bed. “Stay put and don’t move.” He went into their washroom first and gathered bandages, a pair of tweezers, and some sort of minty smelling salve they’d gotten from Cal ages ago. They were all deposited on the bed next to Brand, and then a chair and a bottle of whiskey were retrieve from the kitchen and dining room. He sighed as he sat beside her on the chair, carefully picking shards of pottery from her arms and hands. Then came the alcohol. Khitti was sacrificing the good stuff for Brand, in the name of disinfectant. It’s like he loved her or something. Gross. Then it was time for the salve. Where the whiskey likely stung like hell, the salve numbed the pain. After he was done and made sure every inch of Brand’s cuts were coated with the healing concoction, Khitti wrapped her arms and hands up in the bandages.
Brand had no way of knowing what had happened or how long it had actually been. She had no recollection that Khitti had been gone, only a lingering feeling that she’d had to find him, that maybe something had been wrong… but now he was here, and everything was all right again. Wasn’t it? “I -- I didn’t know where you were.” She gulped for air, and wondered why she was choking back tears. She didn’t remember crying before she’d collapsed, but maybe she had been? Everything since the start of the ritual was a blur now, a whirlwind of emotion and sensation, and she could no more grasp a clean fragment of memory than grasp… much of anything, really, given the state of her hands and arms. She reached out to Khitti and tried anyway, hoping to catch some part of him before he could move away from her again. “Stay with me. Promise me you’ll stay with me.”
Brand || She couldn’t know that, just minutes ago, Khitti had been thinking of Brand with nothing but anger and pain in his heart. She couldn’t know that he’d been thinking of leaving her behind for good. And yet, there was a sense of desperation in her voice far beyond what was reasonable. “Stay with me… stay with me...” She was already losing consciousness again. The words repeated in looser and looser form until they were nothing but a soft whimper, and soon they stalled entirely. But the look on her face remained, even as her eyelids fluttered shut. Pain and fear marred her gentle features. And this time, her dreams would follow suit.