RP:KhittiBrand, More Like KhittiBanned

Part of the Do You Believe In Magic? Arc

Summary: This is a story all about how Khitti's life got flipped turned upside down. Now lemme take a minute, just sit right there and lemme tell you all about how Brand is the biggest naive jerk in the all of creation. (Read: Khitti's edging towards stark raving mad and that guy that shares a body with Dominic is a vaguely Brand-shaped heap of jerkface garbage. Nothing's really changed, only gotten worse.) #DamnItBrand #YUDoDis #ThisIsWhyWeCantHaveNiceThings

Raiez's Cave (Dead End)

After having left Linn to try to figure things out for himself in his own jar, Khitti took that favorite book of hers and moved to the spot where her and Dominic had been sleeping at since their joined tenure in the jar began. Laying down, she clutched the text to her chest, the hood to her dress pulled up over her head to help block out whatever light permeated throughout the cave, her red locks hidden from sight. Curled up in fetal position, her line of sight facing the wall beside her so that she could look out, the vampiress was quiet for a short time. But then, soon there was the sound of soft sniffling. Possibly even crying. Of course, the other woman in their shared prison could likely hear her with those stupidly pointed ears of hers--and would likely make fun of her at some point for it--but Khitti didn't care. She didn't know why she was so upset. Why she felt this way. Maybe it was just because she hadn't fed. Maybe she was going crazy. That was the only logical solution. If Brand was close enough, he might hear her as well, but whether or not he cared was a different story. But, of course, Khitti'd never admit giving a damn about whether or not Brand cared. Even if she did. Or didn't. She didn't know. As usual, there were too many unanswered questions, and now as the weight of everything seemed to crush her, she was scared and definitely wanted to go home.

Brand paced, brooding, in what little space was allowed to him. His hands twitched in irritation at his sides; an orb of flame blinked in and out of existence from one hand to the other and back again. It wasn’t just the problem of how to escape that was annoying him anymore -- now it was also this puzzle named Khitti. He didn’t know what the hell he’d done to deserve having such a labile woman on his hands, or what it was that had gotten her so worked up -this- time. No, shut up, Dominic. He totally didn’t. Because Dominic was mistaken and it definitely wasn’t anything Brand had done. Brand could do no wrong. Brand was right in all things, always and forever. Yeah. Brand was -- hey, lass, what’s with the weeping? Ugh. He kept pacing, stealing a glance at her every so often and then immediately pretending that he hadn’t done so -- regardless of if there was actually an audience to his behavior or not. He should say something to her, shouldn’t he? He could figure this out. He was normally so good at charming the pants off someone on the rare occasion he actually wanted to. So why the hell was he flubbing up so badly with Khitti? (And no! He didn’t just totally admit to himself that he wanted to charm her. Or at least not her, specifically. She definitely wasn’t at all special. Nope. You stop that, stupid gorram brain. You’re just gettin’ confused because Dominic’s rattling around in there somewhere.) At long last, he stopped spinning circles and came to stand at her feet, peering down at her with canted head. Say something that makes her stop crying, Brand. “...Hey. You keep that up much longer and we’re all gonna drown in here.” Yeah. Perfect. Good job.

Khitti sniffled a bit, quickly wiping her eyes as Brand approached. What did he want? Probably nothing good. As he gave her that bit of snark, however mild it may be, she definitely decided it was 'nothing good'. "Go away, Brand..." She sounded meek and defeated and her voice cracked a little;not at all like the sarcastic, bossy Khitti he knows. She thought she had done pretty well in the 'Don't Cry Around Brand' department for a long time, but not today. There was just too much of everything going on and that stunt he pulled not long ago was pretty much the last straw. She clutched her book harder, the sniffling dying away but the tears still flowing underneath that dark blue hood of hers. The vampiress turned away from him a bit more, pressing her forehead against the glass, damn near pulling a Dominic as she ever so gently bashed her head against the wall in frustration.

Brand had expected sass. He’d expected at least an annoyed chuckle. Something. Anything. But not the response he actually got. Sobering, Brand sucked a lungful of air in between his teeth and tapped a foot in thought, continuing to eye Khitti sidelong. No, he wouldn’t go away. There wasn’t anywhere to go, anyway. And he was going to figure out how to make this … crying thing… not be a thing. Eventually. Hopefully. Maybe. No, Dominic, shut your piehole. I don’t want your help -- I can do this my own frakking self, thank you very much. Watch and learn how a master works. “Hey,” he repeated, crossing over to the other end of where she lay and nudging a boot into the space between Khitti’s forehead and the wall. “None of that, now. You’re hard-headed, sure, but not near enough to do anything to this glass.” He heaved a sigh and then came to a crouch at her side, drumming his fingers idly on his knees. “You wanna tell me what’s got your knickers in such a twist today, kiwi?” As if he didn’t on some level suspect.

Khitti let out a sigh as he stopped her from hitting her head against the glass. She turns finally, laying flat on her back to stare up at him, though his face was a bit upside down thanks to her position. Her hood falls down around her face, letting that ocean of red hair peek out a bit. Khitti would stare at him with those sad eyes, studying him, trying to figure out that guy hovering over her. "It's nothing..." Liar. "Vhy do you care?" It'd almost seem like there'd be snark accompanying that question, but there wasn't. It actually sounded genuine. She brings a hand up to her face, wiping at the streaks her tears left, the woman trying to pretend like she wasn't crying anymore, though more tears welled up in her eyes as she watched him.

Brand blinked briefly at the tears lining her eyes and hurriedly averted his gaze, staring out at some point in space beyond the glass. Watching her cry when up this close to her was a bit too… intimate for comfort. “I’unno. I don’t, I guess. You’re the kid’s catch, s’all.” He looked back at her for just barely long enough to get a whiff that that probably wasn’t the right thing to say, either, and scrambled to come up with something else to say. “I mean. He wouldn’t want to see you upset, pro’ly, so. Yeah.” The man couldn’t possibly look more uncomfortable if he tried; his line of sight darted away from her again. Dammit, what the hell was wrong with him?! Nothing he said ever seemed to come out the way he wanted it to with her. “Ehhh,” he grumbled, “I should be lettin’ him handle this.” But he didn’t move, and his form didn’t shift. He just stared off at nothing.

Khitti shifted back onto her side when she realized how uncomfortable he was; it practically radiated off of him. "I don't vant him to see me cry again." Another sniffle and more wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "He's so stressed out...he doesn't deserve zhis." She tosses the book over her shoulder half-heartedly, already tired of holding it. The tome full of fairy tales lands off to the side, but near to his feet. "Just go...try to figure out how to get out. Take him far away from here." 'And me' wasn't said, but it was left hanging silently in the air. "Neither of you should've been looking for me in zhe first place. Maybe at least, if Raiez has just me, she'll be satisfied enough and von't come looking for you." She hesitates a bit, then finally sighs, "I-I don't know if it's vise for you to be near me." Khitti seemed to just be full of excuses and didn't actually say at all what was wrong.

Brand clawed a few fingers across the glass in front of him. “Y’know, that was initially the plan, lass. Get here, verify you lot were still alive, figure out an escape, either break us all free or come back with help, depending.” A frustrated huff broke up his thoughts. “Wasn’t bettin’ on being shrunk into magical jars, though.” Only her sniffles punctuated his contemplative silence for a moment; here and there his gaze creeped closer to her before being dragged away again. His mouth opened, pursed into a thin line, then opened once more. He was beginning to look a bit like a nervous, beached fish before he finally found a handful of hesitant words. “You… sure you don’t want the kid back out here? Can’t say much for his skills in a fight -- or anywhere else, really -- but he’s heaps better at this touchy-feely crap. I get touchy, I get kneed in the nads. Apparently.” He gifted her a half-smirk, half-grimace and jabbed her playfully in the shoulder. “So no touching the moody vampire?” Poke. “Or, I could tickle you. Bet you’d stop crying then.” Poke poke. Brand, you are not good at learning your lesson.

He never once looked at her, did he? Or so she thought, for each time she'd chance a glance in his direction, peeking slightly around her hood, he'd be looking elsewhere. Khitti had calmed down a little by now, a slight shake of her head given in response to his first inquiry. "No. I'm sure he's still upset vith me anyway." A pause. "Perhaps even both of you." The vampiress squirms a bit as she's poked and even giggled a lttle, shifting her body this way and that to try to avoid his touch. After letting him do as he pleases for a moment, she soon snatches his hand up, though she's not exactly mean about it. Instead, she sits up a little, his hand brought to her cheek and nuzzled a little. It was just the tiniest display of affection, but it was supposed to mean so much more, though she'd not put that thought into words. The vampiress didn't lay down again, but instead curled up against the wall of the glass more, putting a little more distance between them, even if it was a few inches. "Go read or something, Brand. Maybe she was stupid enough to give us a book on how to get out of zhese jars."

What had just happened? For a moment Brand’s brain flatlined and he merely blinked at his hand, then at Khitti’s backside. For once, he was flabbergasted enough to simply do more or less what he was told without sass and without argument -- he reached for the book of fairy tales Khitti had disposed of by his feet and settled down with a ‘fwump’ a short distance away from Khitti. Not super close, but not too far away, like a cat trying to pretend it doesn’t care about its owner. One hand pawed across the book’s cover; he totally wasn’t contemplating actually reading it. Nope. He traced along the ridges of the binding before exhaling a disgruntled huff and sliding the book across the length of floor between them, where it would bump Khitti in the head. He definitely wasn’t just trying to get her attention again in the most obnoxious way possible. Nah. Not at all.

Khitti didn't respond right away to being nudged in the head with that book. She gave it a few moments, considering things. Why did she do that to his hand? What was wrong with her? Whatever. It didn't matter. It was over and done with now. There was no reason to dwell on it. Though, Brand probably was now. The vampiress would turn and push the book away, pulling herself up to sit next to him. There'd be a space in between them, but she'd soon close that gap as she leaned over against him, her head resting on his upper arm and shoulder. "Brand...?" Whether he responded or not, she'd continue, "I vant to go home..." Dark eyes peer down at the book near their feet, carefully studying each and every part of the embossed rose on the black leather cover. The longer that she was trapped in here, the more she seemed to lose steam, to lose her spark. Being without food for so long didn't seem to help anything either.

Brand was at once of two minds. Well, more than usual, anyway. He could wrap an arm around Khitti and awkwardly attempt to give her some of the comfort even -he- could tell she sorely needed… but… the man looked to the other vampiress in that jar with them, and then out beyond its limits to see if any other mages were looking at them. No one was watching. Not that he could tell, anyway. But still. Brand jostled her off of his shoulder and made a great show out of grumpily folding his arms across his chest. “Doesn’t look like that’s an option, peach. Not right now, anyway.” He eyed her sidelong. Don’t look -too- concerned, now. “Else, we wouldn’t be sittin’ here chatting.” Yeah. Chatting. Just chatting. Definitely no awkward tension here whatsoever.

Khitti heaved a sigh as he knocked her off of his shoulder, and appeared to look like his normal grumpy self. Great. Well, it was becoming increasingly clear with the way that he was acting that she had misjudged everything about him--his personality and feelings--none of it was how she'd thought it was in her head. The vampiress draws her legs up underneath her chin, pulling the skirt of her dress down over her legs so that it touches the floor. Don't want to give the bitey one a show, you know. She -was- just a he not long ago. She's quiet for awhile, thinking things over before finally voicing her thoughts. "You don't like me, do you? I guess you never have, really. You just tolerate me for his sake. I suppose you did make it really clear zhat day you and Dominic saved me. I should've listened to you. Stayed away. Neither of you vould be in zhis mess. He could've found someone else. Someone better. And you vouldn't have to deal vith me. I'm so sorry, Brand. For everything." Her lanky arms snake around her legs, hugging them close to her.

And at last Brand looked at her, actually, really, -looked- at her, his brows knit together. Bloody hell. This was only getting -more- uncomfortable, not less. He rose to his feet and resumed his pacing again, arms still crossed. One hand peeked out from under the elbow of the opposite arm and, once again, a small orb of flame appeared and disappeared with a soft popping sound as he walked, in gradually increasing frequency. He’d walked the length of the jar fifteen, maybe twenty times before turning to her and stopping abruptly at her feet. “I dunno.” Pop. “What am I -supposed- to think of you?” Pop, pop. “You’re the girlfriend of some gorram kid I’ve got rattlin’ around in my brainpan.” Five pops in rapid succession. Brand extended his hand down to her, still holding the small fireball. “I haven’t roasted you to cinders yet, have I? Doesn’t that say enough?” The orb vanished again with one final pop and he went back to pacing without waiting for a response.

Well, that wasn't at all what she wanted to hear. Good job, Brand. You really are a jerk. And then that fire. He'd brought it so very close to her, even after know what it'd do to her kind. He -really- didn't care. She outright cringed as she felt the hot flames of the magic orb hit her face, that fight or flight response sounding in her mind like a firehouse alarm until he moved away again. She was too encased in fear by that flame to move, however, but then as he walked away without another thought to his actions her anger flares and she picks up her book and throws it at his back, her voice unsteady as she yells at him, "Zhen go ahead and do it already! I'd rather be dead zhen stuck in here vith -you-!" Khitti, you are dead, technically. You know what she means. The waterworks would start again, but she'd bring her hands up to her face to hide it from him and anyone else that'd likely be watching.

Okay. Even the tiny little black hole that passed for Brand’s heart hurt a little at that one. Every muscle froze as it had been in the moment the book made its impact, suspended in time. And then abruptly he was upon her, pulling her to her feet and closing around her, both of his hands pinned to the wall just above her shoulders. He looked like he might be about to -breathe- the fire that would be her undoing. He couldn’t do that, could he…? “Khitti. Listen well, cuz I’m only gonna say this the once. You do not -ever- direct me at a target you don’t actually want me to obliterate, you hear me? Because that’s what I do. That’s all I’m here for.” His arms dropped to his sides and he pivoted away. “You’d do yourself a favor to remember that.”

Khitti could only stare at him as he pinned her against the wall and spoke so harshly. She could feel the heat of that fire in his every word as he uttered his warning. There's a moment to process, as he pivots away, but before he can get too far, she snatches up his hand and gives it a tug, twirling him back around to her. Brand's forced into the same position she had been in, though because of the height difference, his hands are pinned at his waist. She taps into her vampiric strength to hold him there as she stared up at him, and into those eyes. The same, emerald eyes as Dominic's. The ones that were so much like her own. "You don't get it, do you? You really don't see it?" The vampiress tilts her head to the side, studying him for any change of expression, "You're not just here for zhat. You're a piece, Brand. Apart of a whole. Zhe whole zhat I--" She pauses, shaking her head. No, don't say it. "You and him...you were once one and the same. Zhat means zhat you are as much him as he is you. Can't you understand zhat?" Her thoughts were a little erratic, thanks to that bit of madness cause by her claustrophobia and the lack of feeding. She tried so hard to get him to actually think about things. To understand what she was trying to say without actually saying it: that she was just as much his as she was Dominic's. At least, that's how she saw things, even though it had taken her quite a long time to figure it out. "You just don't...get it." Her hands release his, falling to his sides, though she doesn't move away, instead shifting her line of sight away from him and to the side, focusing on nothing at all in particular.

Brand rubbed thoughtfully at the stubble along one cheek. No, he really -didn’t- get it. “Eh. You weren’t there, kiwi. An’ regardless, I fail to see how that’s relevant to anything.” Come on, you big clod. This isn’t dwarven engineering. But nope, Brand just contemplated her, puzzled. Dominic shouted at him in the background of his mind but he was muffled, blotted out, barely allowed a presence, the same as he usually was. Brand managed the split-mind equivalent of sticking his fingers in his ears and drowning him out most of the time. “What’s your point?”

Point? She had a point? What was it? She couldn't tell him. He'd just laugh at her or call her stupid or something. "Just...nevermind. You'll never understand. Even if I told you, it vouldn't matter." She resisted the urge to do something stupid, remembering Dominic was still in the back of Brand's head. Dominic. Even he didn't get it in the beginning either. And Brand had only hindered that further with his pearls of wisdom, his warnings to not trust Khitti. It was ridiculous of her to think that Brand, of all people, would figure it out in that head of his. "Nothing matters to you except fire and fighting. You care for nothing and no one but yourself." Her hands curl into fists, clenching together a bit as she speaks, nails biting deep into her skin. Her tone was that of disappointment--in him, in herself, in the situation--and she lets that linger on the air as she's the one now to pivot away, moving to another part of the jar to survey the cave in silence.

Brand at first looked offended, but… nah. She was right. A shrug rolled across his shoulders and he turned around to look out the jar from where she’d pinned him. How many times could he possibly study this cave before going insane? Well, at least once more. And so he stared, and so his mind began to wander. Hmm, she wasn’t -entirely- right. He cared about Dominic sometimes -- although one could still argue that qualified as only caring about himself. Okay, maybe she was right after all. But still, he’d helped look when Khitti had gone missing, hadn’t she? He’d spent -hours- trudging along those mountainsides and dodging crazy death knights. He’d been there when they met Lydia. He’d -- something clicked. Something finally snapped into place, a handful of half-remembered conversations and scattered actions converging into one Khitti-sized epiphany. “Ah, hell,” he grumbled to the wall, “I hate thinking.”

Khitti probably could've eavesdropped a bit on all of his grumbling, but she didn't care. She tried hard to block him out, to forget about him. Maybe she should've told him to bring Dominic back. At least she wouldn't have to hear Brand call her 'kiwi' again. Even though she did sorta kinda like it. Her hands wring one another carefully as she stares out into the cave, but ultimately press against the glass after a time, palms flat against the wall. A sigh passes her lips, her forehead coming to rest against the jar also. She was giving up. On Brand. On trying to make Dominic happy. On getting out of this cave.

Brand stole a peek over his shoulder at the vampiress. So what if he -did- at least care about her a little? It didn’t matter. She clearly hated his guts. That was all the yelling and crying and throwing things at him was about, wasn’t it? Ehhh. He’d hit his thinking quota for the day. Still, he sidled over towards Khitti again, scooting along the wall until he was within arm’s length from her. “Hey,” he said, poking her. But… actually, now that he was here, he had no clue what it was he’d been intending to say. Definitely something witty and charming. No, he suddenly didn’t seem to know how to do that when Khitti was involved. That mischievous grin of his -- you know, the one that usually prefaced some stupid quip -- faltered and his line of sight along with it. “Eh. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” He’d sidle right on back to his original spot if not stopped.

Khitti felt him get closer and then that poke. He said...something...but her mind wandered a bit. And then he started to leave again. Why did this always seem to happen when her mind was out of sorts? Would she have even been able to say anything otherwise? It was so weird, the way this kind of mirrored that day with Dominic at Frostmaw's wall. The odd tension. The doubt and struggling to understand feelings on both ends. The fact that she was starving again. "Brand...I...you..." She didn't know what to say either, eventually blurting out, "Please don't leave me. I need you." A sigh. "I need both of you. I-I can't be alone. Not in here." Her left hand lifts to the glass near her head, curling into a fist and hitting the wall. Each time punctuating a new sentence as it fell from her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes again. "Nothing makes sense and I'm so hungry...I don't care if you hate me. Just don't leave me. Please..." She figured he'd leave though, just as he always did when things got awkward and uncomfortable thanks to her. The vampiress breaks down again, her fist sliding down the glass as she sinks down into a kneeling position. She muttered to herself, various random things like 'I want to go home', calling for Dominic to forgive her, and saying that she can't be trapped like this again. The redhead was definitely a mess, the poor thing feeling like an animal kept in a cage.

“No. No, no, no. Ugh. Don’t be like that.” Brand lifted Khitti from under the arms, turned her around to face him, and plopped her back down on her feet again. He’d hold her there to keep her upright, if necessary. “Khitti, I don’t hate you.” Yep, that was about the extent of his earlier revelation. Brand was not the brightest man when it came to emotional mumbo-jumbo. You’d really think he would have consciously realized that sooner. Or something more than that. But nope. “You’re…” She’s… what? He stared down at her. All those times he’d been up this close to someone, been trying to forge intimacy for some nefarious purpose or other… this sort of contact was usually reserved for someone he was trying to get something from. “You’re…” But he’d willingly gotten this close to her and … huh. He didn’t even know what he wanted. -Did- he want anything? He must have some reason or he wouldn’t bother. “You’re… I dunno. You’re alright, I guess.” He twisted away to instead lean against the wall next to her, arms crossed again. Whatever. All this thinking was making his brain hurt. “I don’t hate you,” he repeated, looking anywhere else.

Khitti blinked a few times out of her crazed, hungry stupor as Brand lifts her up off the ground and her feet touch the floor. W-what was he doing? She stared at him through the haze of tear-stricken eyes. Wait...what was he saying? Was he being nice? What was going on? "B-Brand...?" This was weird and not at all like him. She tilted her head, trying to catch his line of sight. If that didn't work, she'd put her hand up to his cheek, coaxing him to look at her. "Brand. Did...you just call me 'Khitti'?" She wouldn't move her hand right away, not unless he forced her to. He was so warm and she was so...not. She could sense the blood flowing in his veins beneath and her thirst called out to her even more. She'd retract her hand finally, a faint look of worry on her features, a few steps back taken away from him. "I don't hate you either." Well, that's obvious. She didn't look at him now, trying hard not to focus on the urge to drain him dry right then and there.

Brand blinked at her, puzzled. -Had- he used her name? He hadn’t noticed. “Eh. I’unno. So what if I did, kiwi? You have a name. I’m gonna use it sometimes. Probably.” Who, Brand? Defensive? Nah. Not at all. “And hey, didn’t you just say you -did- hate me?” The moment was gone and he was right back to the same old Brand. Same old leering, snarky Brand.

Khitti just stared at him. His attitude changed so quickly and too soon. "I -don't-. But, you infuriate me beyond belief. Vhy do you have to act like such a jerk all zhe time? Can't you just be civil for once?" Crimson brows knit together as she sighs and turns away from him, "It's just -me-, you know..." Her words take on a sad tone at the end, the vampiress pushing off the wall of the jar finally to move across from him. She throws her hands up in the air, clearly frustrated, "I don't know if you realize zhis in zhat zhick skull of yours, but I'm not doing so vell in here. The snark and sarcasm is great and vonderful any other time, but right now I need..." A pause. "I need..." What -did- she need? She sighs heavily, arms folding over her chest in a Brand-like fashion, his pacing back and forth adopted too. "Something you've probably never experienced in your life." She didn't even know if Dominic could help, he was so irritated with their situation lately...or her. She didn't know which any more.

Brand wagged a finger at her. “I’m gonna remember you said that, y’know. ‘The snark and sarcasm is great and -vonderful-.’ “ Her accent was over-exaggerated coming out of his everlasting smirk of a mouth. But as he watched her pace, his expression faded ever so slightly; he leaned against the jar and slid down it until he was seated, staring up at her as she passed him by again and again. “But sure, lass, try me. What’re you referring to?”

As he asked that question, she paused. Her entire body stopped its path that it had chosen, her head turning just slightly to cast a side glance at him. Khitti's features remained softened for a few moments as she studied him, contemplating, wondering what to say. But then, just as quickly as his demeanor had changed so too did hers, her expression hardening, becoming more stern and a bit dubious. "You vouldn't understand." She also became more withdrawn as minutes went on, her line of sight focused on the floor. "I don't even zhink zhe vord 'love' is in your vocabulary." Khitti immediately felt bad for saying such a thing, even if it was to Brand, but nevertheless the guilt was there.

Brand pressed a contemplative finger to his lips and raised his eyes to the ceiling. He seemed not at all hurt by the accusation; in fact, her intended meaning seemed to have gone entirely over his head. “I dunno. I love the smell of charred enemy in the morning. Or any time at all. I love the feeling of a hard-won victory. Or an easy victory, if I’m bein’ honest. I love the touch of someone else’s flesh against mine, the bones and sinew and muscle movin’ under skin as we fight. Or frak. Or a bit o’ both.” A broad, leering grin went her way before his gaze returned to its prior place. “I love good food that may very well be my last meal. And I love that it never is. Not yet, anyway.”

Khitti stopped her pacing yet again, moving to stand in front of Brand. "Zhat's all vell and good, but not at all what I mean." She tilts her head, eyeing him again before stepping to his right, kneeling beside him. "You don't understand because you've probably never felt it. Or, being who you are, you likely just ignored it and moved on vith your life." The vampiress lifts a hand from her side, letting it hover just near to his face, a look of hesitation on her own. Ultimately, she gives in though, her palm coming to rest against his cheek. "I'm not sure how to properly describe it to you." Khitti thinks for a few moments, then has an 'aha' moment. "No. You do know vhat it is. Because I showed you. Zhat day I bit you." Those feelings then may have been for Dominic, but Brand had still been apart of the audience.

Brand made a show of squirming away from her touch. “Eh. Try -not- to remind me, thank you very much. I get sore again just thinkin’ about that bite.” But something in his eyes seemed to give away that he knew what she meant -- and he seemed to realize it was showing, after a time. He turned away from her and back toward the glass wall rather than continuing to meet her stare. “Nah. You’re lookin’ at exactly the wrong crazy-headed bastard.” The words came quite some time after the rest, and so quietly they could almost be mistaken for part of the grumpy sigh that followed it.

Khitti pulled her hand back as he made it apparent he didn't want her to touch him. She whispered a faint apology, sitting back on her rear and letting her legs stretch out in front of her. She -had- caught his words, but she did nothing more than sigh in response to them. Silence floated between them, the vampiress' hands wringing one another before finally throwing themselves up in the air. "I give up...You vin. I'll leave you alone." Her hands drop back down, the look on her face one of defeat. "Just...try to find us a vay out of here, okay?" She pushes herself up off the ground, looking like she might go wander again, though it wouldn't be very far.

Brand appeared satisfied enough at her defeat -- or at any rate, he didn’t attempt to argue. He didn’t even acknowledge her. He just stared out like he must have done a hundred other times already, one hand raised in a fist against the glass above his head, the other deep in a pocket. Hmm, fancy that. He still had the rune stone. He’d almost forgotten, and somehow Raiez hadn’t taken it. Maybe she’d confused the magic signature for his own; he -had- used it quite a lot by now, after all. The thing was swimming with energy that rightfully belonged to him. They really needed to get back to working on a solution to that when all of this was done. -If- it was done. No, most certainly -when-. Brand huffed impatiently and rapped his knuckles on the glass. Maybe minutes had passed in that brooding silence, maybe hours, and he broke it now without even looking back at her. “Hey, kiwi. I ever tell you anything about the kind of work I did in Catal?”

Khitti didn't look at him either, a frown marring that pretty face of hers. She didn't know whether or not he was looking, and frankly she wasn't sure if she cared now, but she shook her head in response. The vampiress remained silent, allowing him to speak if he wanted to, though most of her attention laid on her own thoughts. She thought herself stupid for even considering that Brand might have mutual feelings, that he'd actually give a damn about her. Her hands fidget absently in the air front of her, her line of sight on the floor near her feet as she took to languidly pacing again.

It was a few moments before Brand actually turned over his shoulder to peer at her peripherally, and in that time he’d missed the shake of her head. He watched her pace a while before turning back to the wall. As far as he could tell, she was too lost in her head to pay him any mind, and… well, maybe that was for the best. “Eh, it’s fine. Wouldn’t rightly know where to start anyway.”

"Neither of you have really told me anything, zhough you know probably vay too much about me." She says flatly, her attention still on the floor. "I'm not going to pry it out of you if you don't feel like talking about it, Brand." Khitti sighs softly, stopping in her path again, though she still didn't look at him. "I did shake my head, however, in response." Finally, she chanced a glance in his direction, staring at him longer than she should and being a second or two late to look away should she catch his gaze.

Brand spoke to the wall one last time. “Hmm. No. Not too much.” And now, when Brand turned around, it was in time to catch her stare. He returned it with none of his usual smartass charm, instead studying her with all the intensity of a man trying to wrap his noggin around some insanely complicated scholarly theory. A funny thing, given that he’d hardly so much as set foot in a school, nor was Brand likely to admit to caring to learn anything that didn’t have to do with combat. “Emotions are useless when you’re a living weapon,” he finally began. “Dangerous, even. You have room for fury if it fuels your battlelust -- and damned near nothin’ else. Everything else is an act, a contrivance, something you pretend when it’s necessary to survive an’ discard when it ain’t.” He canted his head at her before continuing, “Don’t think because the thoughts are meaningless anyhow. Weapons don’t think. They become what they’re shaped to be, they go where they’re aimed, and they don’t ask questions or debate ethics. Are ya followin’ so far, peach?”

"You forget, Brand...or perhaps you never realized..." She pauses, her left arm lifting somewhat as she eyes it before turning her gaze to him, "Zhat zhat is exactly vhat I am. Vhat zhey made me into. How do you zhink one comes to be vith a creature such as Amarrah?" Khitti pivots, spinning to face him, tears again forming in the eyes of that vampiress that was increasingly becoming unhinged the longer she stayed here. "I'm followin' you, Brand. But, do -not- continue if you're going to try to tell me zhat zhese 'living veapons' are not people. Zhat they're emotions and feelings don't matter. Zhat zheir zhoughts don't matter. For a long time, zhat's all you have are you zhoughts and zhey -do- matter." She stared at him hard, then shook her head, muttering something beneath her breath before returning to her pace. He'd hit a sore spot, it seems. "You are not zhe only person in zhe vorld zhat vas created for something awful." Khitti resists the tears, sending them back from whence they came as a hand raises, motioning for him to continue if he dares.

Brand tracked her pacing with naught but his eyes, breathing a heavy sigh before continuing. “For you, sure. You existed before. You had a life that was something other’n what they made you. You’ve been able to have one since. An’ not to say that wasn’t a terrible thing, what was done to you, but they simply don’t compare.” Brand pushed off the wall, interrupting the vampiress’ pacing with a hand firmly on each of her shoulders. “Years, lass. Gorram -years- of not a single independent thought swirling ‘round this head. Kid just shut down rather than fight it, and I’ve never known anything else.” He shook her mildly before withdrawing his grip on her. “Eh. But it’s no wonder you don’t get it. Words ain’t my thing.”

Those dark verdant eyes of the vampiress locked onto Brand as he took hold of her shoulders, spoke, and even shook her a bit. "No...I do get it...but-" As he begins to move away, she reaches forward and grabs hold of his shirt near his waist. Her slender hand grips it carefully, so as not to tear it should he try to move away, but also keep him in place. "Brand, you still don't understand." Khitti attempts to move him a bit closer, her own green gaze never leaving his, "How many times have I told you? Told Dominic? I -get it-. Do you zhink I've had a single day to myself since I vas fourteen vith Amarrah in my head? Z-zhis isn't a competition. I just..." A pause. "You do exist. You exist and you may not have your own body and zhings may not be perfect, but vhy can't you just move on? You don't have to be a veapon...Zhere are other zhings you can do. Zhe only zhing zhat matters is you're -here- and you have a chance to be something more zhan vhat you vere created to do. You act like you shouldn't matter because of vhat you are, but...you do. Both of you. You matter to me..." Welp. She said it. Kind of. She actually -does- care about him. This is weird and not exactly something Khitti thought she'd ever say to Tall, Blonde, and Snarky. Hopefully the bitey one hasn't been listening to all of this mess. Ugh, she probably is.

“Not sayin’ I can’t, I’m sayin’ I don’t know how. And wouldn’t know where to start.” Brand pressed a finger to his temple. “Frankly, it’s a gorram wonder either of us can manage as well as we do. There’s not been room in this head for any kind of thought beyond training and survival until just a few months ago. An’ that was all fine and dandy. Then you come along -- and I start thinkin’. Mind you, I’ve never known a damn thing but instinct before. So… hell. You come along, and you fog things up. You spin my compass about ‘til I don’t know which way’s north. So…” he paused to study her, absentmindedly chewing on a lip. “No, you know what, s’best I try to show you.” Suddenly a caricature of highborne etiquette, the man bowed deeply before drawing her hands into his and roping her into a dance, leading her through a series of steps as he talked. “So… maybe there -is- somethin’ there. Maybe there ain’t. But even if we say there is...” He threw her out for a twirl before snapping her back in, her back pressed against his chest, one arm braced firmly against her hips and the other pressed at her neck in such a way that it would block closed her windpipe if he applied any further pressure. Brand pressed his mouth to an ear. “I’m a damn good actor sometimes, but I don’t stop being a weapon just cuz no one’s wielding me at present. I can’t know I wouldn’t hurt you just by you trippin’ the wrong switch in my head or something. It’s just in my nature.” He loosened his grip and took a step away from her. “And y’know, the frakked up thing of it all is I bet you I still wouldn’t feel anything. The kid would, sure. But he feels damn near -every- gorram thing.”

Khitti grins as they dance about, only to end up with his hand at her throat. She tenses up a little, but soon eases despite the hold, the reaction a split-second response from her nerves and nothing more. "You zhink I'm some frail zhing. I'm not human, Brand. You yourself have seen me come back from zhe brink of death. -You- did zhat. -You- saved me. Zhat proves you're capable of being something great. It's like, you might actually have a heart or something, instead of a black, endless void of horrible and grumpiness. You know vhat for sure can kill me--" She takes his hands now, not letting him get far away before she pulls him into her own dance. It was much like that waltz she'd taught to Dominic. "--and I trust you enough not to. You've managed to not do so so far, even vith as big of an annoyance as I am." There'd be quite a bit of spinning and proper foot placement, as such would happen with a waltz; in this case, though, Brand would be in the role typically assigned to females amongst the nobles. "You could do anything, Brand. Anything you could possibly vant. Vhen ve get out of here, you could talk to Hildegarde and see if she needs help. Or you could join zhe mage's guild! Or you could open up a shop. Or you could--" Khitti pauses her words as she spins him about again, then dips him, using a bit of her vampiric strength to keep him from falling on his arse. She'd lost herself again, thinking of things that might help him and getting caught up in the dancing. But then...then she looked down at him as he stood there bent backwards in her hold and she almost -did- drop him as she stared at him with her mouth slightly agape. She managed not to though and let him back up, taking a step away; the urge to kiss him, to see if he actually did feel anything, was fought off again. "--help me..." was finally uttered faintly as she gathered her thoughts and that wall of awkward was forced back up again. Well, she was happy for a few minutes, at least.

Brand let her lead him and he wasn’t even really sure why. Once she’d started, there was no will in him to fight it. She spoke, and something bubbled up in him and was squashed again before it could be identified. It was those damn eyes of hers, probably. She was so trusting, somehow. For some reason. So optimistic about his capacity to be something more. He could almost believe that she was onto something. Almost. “I’unno,” he said distantly, increasing the gap between them once more, looking away from her. “I think you confuse the kid’s potential for my own.” If anything, Brand looked like the confused one -- his brows furrowed and his gaze wandered until it landed on the other vampiress in the jar. Bloody hell. He’d somehow forgotten she was even here, at least for a while. How very unlike him. Shaking off the mood now, he retreated further and plastered his usual smirk back onto his face. “An’ besides, you forget I only helped out that one night because he woulda harangued me to no end if I hadn’t.”

Khitti threw her hands up in the air in frustration, "Gods' damn it, Brand. Quit vith your 'gorram' excuses." Whoa. She said his word. -That- word. The word he always uses. Brand's word. Sheesh. She takes a few steps closer to him, not letting him retreat so easily, her line of sight following his towards the other redhead. A bit of a scowl appears on Khitti's face, but instead of directed at the lightning-wielder, it's turned towards Brand. "Quit giving a damn about vhat she or anyone else zhinks." She lets out one of those really girly-sounding screams of annoyance, then finishes closing the gap between them. "You are zhe most infuriating person I've ever met in my damned life, Brand. Even moreso zhan -her-." An index finger juts in the bitey one's direction. "You're going to be your own person as best as you can if I have to beat it in to your damned head myself." Her mood-switch clearly flipped again in the angry direction. Brand should probably stop doing that. Khitti grabs his shirt forcefully, and pulls him down to her, "Both of you. I'm going to beat zhat nonsense out of both of you and...and..." Poor Dominic. He's not even there to defend himself. The vampiress does something then though, that'd likely give ol' Brand a bit of a shock. She kisses him. Yep. It happened. You can all go home now. It's nothing at all like the one she gave to Dominic though. This one is rough, fiesty, and anger-filled; quite the opposite to the sweet, Disney-esque one she shared with Brand's other half. There's no sort of reaction to her own strange show of affection; instead, she just continues yelling at him. "I swear to zhe gods' if I hear any more of zhis self pity bull, I'm going to bite you. It's going to be vorse zhan zhe first time and vhen I'm done vith you, zhere vill be nothing left for -her- to scavenge off of you!"

In the instant after they parted lips, Brand's expression changed from shock to anger to an unreadable stoniness. He remained silent well after her outburst ended, staring her down. The intensity alone might cause her to turn to cinders. “You understand not a single godsdamned thing I've said,” he spoke at length, his voice that same quiet smouldering she'd encountered at their first meeting. “I can't be what you're asking of me, an’ you're positively frakking -naive- to think otherwise. How many other ways do I have to phrase it?” He almost seemed to grow in size as he spoke, looming over her -- or maybe it was just the threat of twin flames that rested in either palm. “Enough, lass. Y’can't win this one.”

"No, Brand. I'm not naive. You're just a damned fool." There was no fear about her as he loomed over her. There was plenty of disgust, however, and a hell of a lot more anger. Khitti wiped her lips off, then spat at Brand's feet, and said nothing more. She picked up her book and headed to the other side of the jar, near the bitey one. Imagine that. He pissed her off enough that she would rather deal with the other female. He done screwed up.