RP:The Final Countdown
Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc
Summary: In the wake of Facilier's sabotage of Khitti's cure, Khitti, Brand, and Onyx are left to get the hell out of Vailkrin before they're overrun by the undead. Once they reach the Tranquility, plans are discussed for the LydiaAmarrah amalgamation's demise.
The Black Pond, The Dark Forest, Vailkrin
One by one, those gathered here for the ritual have left them. Bradyn, Esche, Lionel, the abomination that was once Lydia... all freshly departed. Onyx has yet to make their whereabouts known, a fact that nags at the edges of Brand’s awareness, but he can’t bring himself to search for the child just yet. Disbelief clouds his reason and roots him a pace to Khitti’s right. One hand rubs at the opposite arm, soothing the muscles wrenched awry in the Lydia-monster’s escape. He’s lucky he and Khitti weren’t hurt worse, he knows… but the emotional damage is far worse and still in the process of revealing itself. “It’s not too late,” he murmurs to the vampiress, unable to muster the necessary conviction in his tone to make his words ring true. “We can still find her and put an end to this whole frakked up mess.”
Khitti hadn’t stopped staring at the blood on her hands, now that everyone else was gone. In reality, it was just her own, having come from that wound on her neck--but now it felt more metaphorical than anything. More blood on her hands. More deaths. More souls. Everything unraveled so quickly, her mind was still playing catch up. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to wipe away the gore onto her clothes--first slowly, then frantically--as the realization of everything that’s happened up until now hit her. Facilier’s control on her was well and truly gone now that the heart was used for other means. Khitti was starting to freak out, starting to panic; Brand’s words had barely been heard, but it wasn’t enough to bring her back out of her thoughts just yet.
Brand traveled light to get here, as he usually does. Still, clean cloth has uses enough to warrant bringing some along. The man digs into a back pocket to find it, pulling out a small hand towel after some time and pulling Khitti’s hands into his own to stay her frenetic movements. Wordlessly, he works to reduce the mess, swiping even between her fingers and under her nails. Just having some way to be useful is enough to help calm his mind from the worries bubbling up, to keep him from dwelling too much on what could have been done differently. And Khitti, more than anything right now, needs him to be calm. She needs him to show that, somehow, they’ll find a way through this. They will, won’t they? Brand has his doubts, though he’s doing his utmost to mask them now that he has something to at least occupy his hands for a moment.
Khitti almost didn’t let him help her. She initially jerked her hands away as he went to clean them, but ultimately allowed him to do so. All she could think about was that he didn’t need anymore blood on his hands either--hers or otherwise. Khitti did calm down after a bit, one verdant stare locked onto the other’s. She wanted to ask ‘who are you?’ but couldn’t quite find the words, though her brows knit together in confusion. ‘Who are you and what have you done with Brand?’ His actions reminded her of Dominic--of Dominic in the beginning, not that whiny selfish thing he became--and she could only remain fixed on him, for what seemed like forever. “Brand…?” Khitti paused, trying to sort through her thoughts to find what she wanted to say, “You… should go back to zhe Tranquility. Find Onyx; let zhem protect you until you reach zhe ship. You should not be here. You should not be on zhe mainland at all. You and Onyx need to protect your crew.” She made no mention of coming along with them, despite what Lionel had said about taking her out of Vailkrin.
“This isn’t your dream, peach. This isn’t gonna reach that far.” Brand knows nothing of what the ramifications are going to be or not be, so he doesn’t elaborate on that expression of optimism. Khitti’s hands are as clean as they’re going to get, and so after a squeeze the man withdraws his own, steps back, regards Khitti with canted head. He was always good at telling people what they wanted to hear… but not nearly so much with her. Maybe that’s what people mean, Brand ponders, when they talk about ‘making an honest man’ of someone. All his usual prowess at bending the truth seems to fall apart when he’s with her.
From beyond the treeline, the sharp twang of a bowstring interrupts the silence. The arrow whistles through the air toward Khitti, the cry increasingly more shrill as it nears before finally igniting itself in mid-flight. In the space of the half-second Brand has between noticing the arrow’s approach and any chance to intervene, the thought occurs to him to shove Khitti out of harm’s way… but he’s retreated a hair too far for that. The arrow arrives, streaking bright and crimson across his vision -- and then it is past, and Khitti still stands. The flame has missed her by mere inches. The ghoul two paces beyond is not so lucky, however; the arrow finds its mark within a hollow eye socket, burning the creature from within its skull as it howls and collapses to the ground. The amalgam of Lydia and Amarrah has not been idle, it seems, while the couple here have pondered their next actions. Already, more walking corpses can be sighted on an attack vector. But thankfully, Onyx has not spent this time idle, either. Three additional arrows find their marks in more distant targets. And when the child finally emerges from the trees to join their captain and the vampiress, they bring word from far beyond the limits of the forest: “You -both- need to get back to the ship. This forest will be overrun in no more than an hour, from what I’ve seen.”
Khitti wanted to tell Brand that he didn’t know that for sure, but that arrow whizzing past her head stopped her entirely. She’d freeze up, as if bracing for impact, but then nothing came, and the realization that Onyx had yet again saved both of their asses hit her instead. “Zhey’re right,” she said at length after the undead took out more of its brainless, shambling brethren, “I don’t zhink I’m in any state to fight. Zhat vine… it’s so potent zhat I might as vell not even have zhese vampire senses.” Khitti sighed heavily, that feeling of uselessness creeping up on her, though she did her best to keep it at bay. “You’re coming vith us, you know.” This last statement was, of course, to Onyx. It wasn’t in that demanding tone she’d had so many months ago, when she commanded them to tell Brand why an undead was on the ship, but rather in a ‘hey, stupid, you’re not going to stay here and get mauled for our sake’. It’s like she might care about the kid-who-was-not-a-kid now; there was at least some sort of respect there, if nothing else. Khitti grabbed the hem of Brand’s sleeve and gave it a tug before heading towards the exit to the forest, and the portal to the city beyond that.
“I dunno. I think we need to try to help the people here.” That’s what Brand might say, were this not Vailkrin. But he’s seen enough of House Dragana to know it can fend for itself, despite its location closest to the undead epicenter. The city, too, is no stranger to zombie infestation or general mayhem. With Lionel and perhaps Bradyn off to alert the guards, Brand’s priority lies with Khitti. And so they’re off, back to the portal, with Brand and Onyx fending off whatever creatures get close enough to pose a threat along the way. Once they were beyond the Vailkrin portal, Khitti could form a portal of her own, enough to get the three of them back to the Tranquility. Onyx sets some kind of ward outside the Vailkrin portal as they depart… perhaps enough to keep the Lydia-monster’s undead horde from emerging, or at least to alert Onyx when they cross.
The Tranquility, Cenril Wharf
Khitti managed to get them to the situation room -somehow-, but she didn’t stay there long. She’d push past Brand and Onyx in silence, heading out the door and down the hall, taking what seemed like an impossibly long walk to her room. Why was she so tired…? Oh right, wine does that… and getting bit by a zombified version of her sister(s). There was a bit of wall-hugging along the way, and she thought about the fact that she should probably have Lennier look at the wound she acquired--and was somewhat healed in a sloppy, half-assed fashion thanks to Bradyn’s untrained skills in carnomancy--but it didn’t matter right now. Khitti was intent on changing out of her blood-soaked clothes and getting a much needed bath. And maybe drinking some of Brand’s whiskey and eating his cheesecake, if there was any on board. She needed something, anything, to distract her from another anxiety attack that was sure to surface, but even if she did find some small joy in eating and drinking her fill of Brand’s favorite foods, it wasn’t likely to last forever.
Returning to the Tranquility juxtaposes a backdrop of the familiar with the terrifying unknowns of the future. There’s an almost eerie quality to the situation room now, as Brand sits and contemplates the maps and notes strewn across the table. So many plans, so much preparation for this day, gone to waste. Would they be able to recapture Lydia? And even if they did, would the ritual for Khitti to regain her mortality still be successful anymore?
“It could have been worse. Much worse.” Onyx stands with hands clasped behind their back, three paces awry from the entry door. The words are stated in the child’s typical stoic manner, but Brand catches a certain confidence lying beneath. It’s unusual for him, but he’s unable to quite pinpoint why. A subtle tell of their body language, perhaps, or a hint in their inflection. And as soon as he’s caught it, Brand questions if he’s in fact noticed anything at all. Doesn’t Onyx always communicate with that sort of poise? Perhaps he’s seeing what he wants to see, hearing what he wants to hear: some kind of assurance, in all this mess, that they’re still on the right path. Or perhaps, just the least wrong one.
“Khitti isn’t gonna care,” Brand sighs, “about how frakked up it could’ve been. Plenty frakked up here, now. And we just left it all behind. Left Vailkrin to deal with our mess. Not that they’re not well-equipped to handle it, and not that we -were-, but…” Brand trails off, knocking down a miniature that sits atop one of the maps before him. “Doesn’t make it right. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
As Brand and Onyx spoke, Khitti would find her room, a new change of clothes, and a bath. Brand hadn’t followed her, so it was rather obvious that they were discussing -something- (how can you not after something like that happening?) but she wasn’t sure whether or not she actually wanted to know what was being said. So she tried not to think about it and instead, she sunk down into the tub and tried so hard to relax. It wasn’t working, though. After all these weeks of nearly drowning in her sleep, she almost wished for it now. That’d make all of this go away, right? Lionel would find the abomination she created, destroy it, and that would be that. No future of burning towns and legions of undead. No Khitti-lich that would accidentally end up destroying everyone she’s ever cared about. This lack of being able to die was incredibly frustrating right now and so she let out an irritated scream--lucky for her, she was still fully submerged and it came out as naught but furious bubbles. The angry screaming seemed to help a little though, despite it all--at least she wasn’t destroying more of Brand’s precious furniture this time around--but, the uselessness didn’t fade.
After a few minutes more of somber sulking, she’d tend to her business of washing the blood out of her hair and scrubbing it from her skin; she scrubbed so much so that her skin was red and she nearly had MORE blood on her hands. Khitti’d get dressed then, and if Brand hadn’t joined her by then, she’d return back to the situation room where she’d left him. She wouldn’t go in right away, however, choosing to linger outside to listen even though she knew Brand--and likely Onyx too by now--knew the sound of her footsteps.
Onyx doesn’t so much roll their eyes as cast them toward the wall and back, but combined with their scowl the effect is much the same. “Given the same choices, I would do it again. How many innocent lives do you truly think we have endangered there? Not the ones who pursued vampirism for the sake of immortality, nor the lycans for the same. Not the necromancers who arrest souls to long-dead bodies for the sake of having servants or slaves. How many people do you think live there who are not already lost to their own pursuits of greed or power?”
Brand can think of a few -- Blue’s children, at the very least, if not the vampire himself -- but it's of no use reasoning with Onyx in this state. He doesn't need to know much of Onyx’s history to see the depth of the grudge they carry toward Vailkrin types. By the time Khitti arrives at the door, she will hear only the silence that has descended between them, as Onyx repairs what arrows they managed to recover and Brand broods over whiskey.
Khitti had heard Onyx from down the hall and could practically cut the fog of vitriol that they spewed with a knife. She’d taken those few seconds at the door’s entrance to take a deep breath and let it out before slipping back into the room, all shiny and clean. “Despite vhat you zhink, not everyone is like zhat. Not everyone is like Larewen or Facilier. Some didn’t ask for zhis; others had no choice.” She fell into both of those categories, of course, when it came to both her magic and her vampirism. “-Vailkrin- vill be fine. For now. But not Cenril. Not Kelay and zhe forest. Not Gualon. None of zhem are equipped to deal vith zhe dead like Vailkrin is.” Khitti almost seemed like her old self again, always sticking up for others that didn’t deserve the hatred they got--except for the fact that she looked so tired, more soul-weary than anything. “Ve--or I, rather--need to contain zhis soon. A few stray zombies here and zhere is nothing, but zhat hold Facilier had on me is now on Amarrah, and I don’t know if zhere’s a single necromancer here who can stand up to zhat if she gets too powerful. It didn’t take much of my blood at all for her to mutate… imagine vhat’ll happen vhen she gets her hands on more victims.”
Onyx peers down their nose at Khitti. It seems they always manage to do this, no matter how they are positioned relative to her. And her entry, her continuing of the earlier conversation, none of it seems to throw the child off balance. Onyx seems to have expected this behavior from her; maybe her tendency to listen in from afar is becoming predictable. “They’ll die,” says Onyx, simply, “by the thousands. That’s thousands of souls for Facilier to utilize. And if we’re particularly unlucky or particularly slow to act, Amarrah will gain the strength to add those thousands of bodies to her horde.”
“So let’s not be slow to act, then,” cuts in Brand. Onyx clearly hadn’t intended on stopping their tirade there, but the interruption stills them, regardless. “You put down some kinda somethin’ to alert us if she passes through the portal, didn’t you?” Yeah, Brand, that’s the technical term. “Far as I know, there’s no other way outta there. So we have a choke point, of sorts, and advance notice if and when she makes a move. We could send word to Vailkrin, encourage them to coordinate so she’s encouraged to go this way.” Brand heaves a sigh and rises from the table, eyes on Khitti. “Facilier wants to set traps for us so badly, seems to me it’s fair game we set one right back.”
Just because Facilier no longer had a hold on her didn’t mean Khitti wasn’t prone to anger anymore and Onyx almost always seemed to find that insta-rage button. There’s a slight snarl, her upper lip curling in disgust though she didn’t get to say anything in response thanks to Brand’s interjection. Ugh. She hated that. She could never seem to get the last word in to defend herself or whatever else against Onyx, and if she did, she’d get rebuked for it. So, Onyx is given an eyeroll instead before that same line of sight shifted towards Brand. “Ve’re not bringing it into zhe city. Zhat’s just asking for more trouble.”
Khitti crossed the room and dug into the cabinet where the maps were kept, pulling out the one for Kelay-Sage and another for Gualon. Gualon’s is rolled out first, and a spot at the northern-most point of the map pointed at, “Zhere’s an overlook and a bit of a cliff here zhat ve could lure her to. It’s not far from zhe portal at all. Zhe only problem is zhat zhere’s not a whole lot to entice her to come zhere--no live bait zhat is. Or--” The Kelay-Sage map was placed on top of the other, and the south-eastern area motioned to, “--Sage has more people--all zhose elves, you know--and ve could utilize zhat to an extent as bait, but it also has zhis--” The spot where the remnants of Arkhen’s temple still stood “--it’s another old temple, like zhe one in Frostmaw, except zhis is dedicated to Arkhen specifically. It vould veaken Onyx and I somewhat, if zhere’s still holy magic radiating around there, but it vould also affect her as vell.”
“Never said we’d be frakked up enough to lure it through the city,” Brand grumbles. “Do we -need- to weaken her? A two-for-one weakness trade sounds mightily unfavorable.” He pores over the Kelay map, though he knows the area well enough that it’s not strictly necessary. “And the Arkhen temple’s a long way from the portal. Can’t we just ambush her near there?”
“Absolutely not,” hisses Onyx, and Brand is so badly startled that his whiskey sloshes several drops onto the table. The undead has crossed from their corner table at the Catalian’s back to pore over the maps, and done so with such little noise that Brand is unaware they stand at his side until they’ve spoken. Onyx, however, seems not to notice; their eyes scan over Sage with apparent interest before lingering on Khitti. “It is a decent enough plan. And it wouldn’t be two-for-one. At least, not by Khitti’s plan.” Brand earns a sidelong glance as if to suggest he cannot count; it seems it’s not just Khitti who Onyx manages to be condescending to. “Remember that Amarrah is still tied to Lydia -- that would make things even.” Onyx pushes away from the table once again, retreating back toward where their arrows lay in mid-repair. “But I will not be going, meaning it will be two-for-one in your favor.”
Brand splutters yet more whiskey onto the map, flabbergasted. “Like frak I’m not bringin’ an undead to an undead battle! Which one of us here is the Captain?!”
“It is necessary,” says Onyx, through gritted teeth. “You know you’ve never been the only one I am beholden to.” Their tension passes, and with a shrug, they sink back into their chair. “Besides, her assessment is inaccurate. If I were to come anywhere near that place, I would turn to dust.”
Khitti watched the two as they “discussed” things back and forth. She opened her mouth to say something to Brand, as if to assure him that things would be fine without Onyx, until they mentioned that Brand was not the only one he’s beholden too? Um. Wut? There’s a bit of narrowing of those dark olive eyes at the undead and then a side-eye at Brand because she’s clearly in the dark about this. “You’re about as bad as he is vhen it comes to secrets.” Khitti sounded bitter about this and for good reason; despite being together officially now, Brand still had a buttload of things he likely kept from her, but she wasn’t about to ask.
“Okay. So you can’t go zhere. Zhat’s fine. I’m zhinking of asking Meri to come along; maybe look for someone else too. Maybe Rorin if zhe kid’s still about? Someone, -anyone-, zhat’s capable. And ve don’t necessarily have to do zhe plan vith zhe temple. I don’t give a damn. I’m just trying to give us options. But--” There’s a pause as she eyed Onyx “--I have something else for you to do, regardless: I need you to help me track her. Clearly, you’ve got skill in seeking out dark magic--you’ve frakking did it vith me before.” Yeah, she didn’t forget about that day when her and Brand were about to ‘get down to business’ (and not to defeat the Huns) and Onyx just burst through the damned door. “You can have gold or a year’s supply of zhose candies you like or I can owe you a frakking favor, I don’t care, but zhe fact of zhe matter is zhat I haven’t done any undead tracking practically since I got to Lithrydel, so my hunting skills are a bit rusty.”
It’s not often that Khitti and Brand agree on things, but the Catalian is ready to coerce or bribe Onyx to track Lydia, if need be. So when Onyx responds to the necromancer with an abrupt ‘consider it done,’ it… takes the wind out of Brand’s sails, so to speak. His brows furrow and his mouth hangs ajar, then snaps shut, then opens once more for another swig of his whiskey. “Er. Right then,” he finally manages. “Best get on that, soon as you’re able.” It’s a tepid recovery, but it will have to do. Brand’s gaze drops back to the map, fretting.