RP: Dead Memories
Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc
Summary: Brand discovers that he's quite allergic to lobster after Khitti insists that he try it during their stay in Cenril. Swelling of his mouth and an upset stomach are unfortunately acquired by the Catalian, and yet another strange dream as well.
Small Room for Rent, Cenril City Inn
It had been quite some time since Brand had last been to Cenril. Back then, it had been under much different circumstances -- Dominic had been overwhelmed by one of the battles for Hildegarde’s throne, so much so that he’d fled back here and despaired. Brand was still serving as protector now, as he was then, but unlike Dominic, Khitti didn’t need to be saved from herself. In fact, coming here for ‘vacation’ had been almost… uneventful. Sure, they’d gone walking along the beach and hit up several of the biggest tourist attractions (Dominic had insisted on getting a miniature toy octopus from one of the gift shops), but for once everything seemed to be going according to plan.
Until Khitti convinced Brand to try eating lobster, that is. Funnily enough, despite all his years at sea, he’d never had it before -- but it disagreed with him viciously, turning his mouth into a swollen and tingly mess and leaving him dizzy and sick to his stomach. Ridiculous! He’d never so much as been seasick once, and the way he’d acclimated to life on a ship, he might as well have been born with sea legs. But lobster, of all things, was the man’s undoing. He spent the rest of the night in their rented room at the inn, alternately emptying his guts into a bucket and trying, fitfully, to sleep off what the healer had claimed to be a severe allergic reaction.
Nothing like trying to kill the guy you love again, amirite Khitti? Though, I guess, you’re not possessed currently and you didn’t know he had any allergies to seafood. I mean, honestly, what sort of sea-dude has those and doesn’t even know? Regardless of this, the redhead feels positively awful and decided that she was going to take care of him. Laying in the bed beside him, she kept a cup of peppermint tea on the table on her side of the bed, reheating it occasionally and urging him to drink it when he was conscious enough to do so in hopes that it’d help his stomach. Concern for him was clearly written on her face; brows furrowed, her lips twisted into a frown, and guilt was in her eyes as she stared at him in silence. Every so often, she’d reach over to check his forehead, to make sure he wasn’t feverish or some such--she didn’t know a damned thing about seafood allergies, sadly--and finally settled on just leaving him be. Once she was sure he was asleep this time around, she’d lean over and kiss his cheek, slip her hand into his own and settle in to have a nap for now. Hopefully he wouldn’t wake up for awhile and notice the affection she was giving him.
Brand was out like a trout, as Lionel would say. In fact, he was here now, sitting in a chair by the bed in his trademark casual manner, telling Brand so. Repeatedly. “You’re out like a trout.” What an odd thing to say. But then, Lionel’s pretty odd. The -especially- odd part was… “No I’m not. And what’re you doin’ here?” Brand squinted with fatigued, unfocused eyes at his bedside companion, who shrugged and gave him that vague Lionelesque half-smile. Brand grumbled and rolled over, only to come face to face with Khitti. “Peach, what is he doin’ here?”
Khitti hadn’t fallen asleep just yet and blinked open her eyes to settle her line of sight on the Catalian, “Um. Brand. Zhere’s no one here but us.” Surely he was just muttering in his sleep. And who the hell was he talking about? Frowning again, she snuggled closer to him, hoping that it might help -somehow-. Damn it, Brand. She’s a necromancer not a doctor. Love and affection was the last thing he needed, and it’s not like he’d willingly want it if he was awake anyway, but she clung to him regardless, hoping he’d get better soon. She resolved to trying not to worry about him and let the sickness run its course, trying to think up things to start a fight with him about just to have things normal once more when he was feeling more like himself--it’s not like all of their fights were always angry and hate-filled, you know.
“There’s no one here but us,” Khitti said, and Brand rolled back once more and discovered that she was right. Though puzzled, Brand allowed his eyelids to droop shut, and when he opened them again it was to a world on fire. No, he realized, as he sat up with a lurch -- it was only the sunset, coming in through the window and striking everything in its path with those vivid reds and oranges. And staring out at the sea beyond was Viera, humming some Catalian tune Brand had thought forgotten. Every so often a few of the lyrics would escape her lips, and then she’d seem to forget her place and go back to merely voicing the melody. Both hands were at her hair, deftly twisting and parting and twisting strands again until she’d crafted a braid that stretched all the way to the small of her back. Then and only then did she turn to face Brand, features obscured by the vermillion backlight. “Blindly serving her isn’t going to atone for what you did, you know.” Viera’s words held a jarring chill compared to the imagery preceding it. “You can fool yourself all day, but you can’t fool -me-, remember?” Footsteps bearing a sudden menace began to close the gap between them. “-I- know.” Step. “That -you- know.” Step. “...It’s every bit as selfish as anything else you’ve ever done.” With every inch closer, her shadow grew longer and darker until Brand was swallowed entirely by it. “Isn’t it, Dominic?”
“Vhy do you still listen to zhis psycho, hm?” Oh, he’d know right off the bat whose voice that was. Khitti was no longer in the bed beside him; instead, she was in the doorway, perpetually half in and half out like a cat or like some sort of crazy-ass metaphor for their relationship. “Vhy do you let her control you? She’s dead, Brand. She’s gone and she betrayed you and she deserved zhat death. -You- chose to survive. You put both hands on zhe rails and didn’t go overboard. Are you really about to let zhat vicious mermaid pull you under now? -Now- of all times vhen you actually have someone zhat cares for you?” Khitti scoffed and shook her head, “Vell if zhat’s zhe case, I might as vell let Amarrah pull me under too. Probably shouldn’t even try to get rid of her anymore, yeah?” No sooner had Khitti said this did Amarrah appear. First she started as a butterfly and then transformed into that gangly, grotesque figure both Khitti and Brand had seen in their dreams. Her faceless head did that gross thing where it pops open like a flower and drool poured out from between her teeth. “I probably should just let her eat me vhenever ve get to zhe Shadow Plane.”
From the moment of Khitti’s appearance Brand seemed frozen in stasis, half sitting up in the bed, eyes glossy and glued to Viera. The blonde woman, however, turned on a heel at Khitti’s words, a sneer upon her lips. “You weren’t -there-, sunshine. After all your books, haven’t you figured out yet there’s two sides to every story?” She climbed up onto the bed, straddling the immobile Brand in a mocking display of intimacy. “Oh, but my sweet Dominic would never do anything to hurt anyone, now would he?” Stiffly, the Catalian’s arms moved to embrace the woman atop him, though his expression remained as vacant as before.
“ ‘Sunshine’? Nah. I prefer ‘kiwi’ or ‘peach’. Never been one vith zhe light--I much prefer zhe shadows. Here, let me introduce you to zhem, you evil, conniving bitch.” The Khitti of Brand’s obvious delusion shadowsteps to the side of the bed and grabs Viera by the hair. With a sharp jerk of her hand, she pulls the female off of Brand and shadowsteps again to the other side of the room near the window. “Hey, uh, Brand. You can fight her off any time you know. I mean, she’s dead--just look at her.” Khitti turns the blonde woman around to show off a charred corpse, then pushes her to the ground where Viera would likely shift back to her oh so lovely human form again. “You’re zhe one zhat keeps giving her power. She’s vorse zhan a vampire, always feeding off your misery. Don’t you vant to be happy? Don’t you vant your own life vithout having to vorry about zhis stupid female? You’re gonna have to vake zhe hell up if you do and tell her to crawl back into zhe hole she came from.”
Brand stirred as awareness slowly returned to his body. A groggy, stumbling gait carried him to the window, to Khitti’s side. The faint scent of saltwater carried on the breeze here, and many stories below them the foam of the sea hit up against sharp rocks. Viera was no longer anywhere to be seen, corpse or otherwise. But Brand didn’t seem cheered by this realization -- no, it was concern that reflected in his eyes. The wind was picking up, and storm clouds rolled in with it in deep blues and purples against the crimson backdrop. The waves grew ever more turbulent, ever more frothy. “Wouldn’t’ve done that, if I were you,” murmured Brand, and the sea soared up, in mere seconds swallowing everything in its quest to reach the clouds.
It didn’t take long for the waves to overtake the building they’d been in. Water crashed through the window, pulling Khitti out into the depths. The redhead tried to scream, tried to reach for Brand but it was far too late--she was gone and Brand was alone again as the room began to fill up. [She’s going to die, you know. She’s going to die and you’re going to be the one to do it, Firebug. This is how it was always meant to be.]
Somehow, Brand stayed anchored to the floor as the water came pouring in. It parted around him, leaving a thin pocket of air between his skin and the ocean. What a strange thing -- the water had entered, and yet Khitti had been pulled away as if by some riptide. And Brand… Brand was unscathed. He could step out the window now and swim if he wished, and the ocean still did not intrude on the bubble of breath left to him. Khitti was nowhere in sight -- not in the dark depths, nor visible above where the waters met the sun, nor along any of the balconies or parapets of the massive keep he’d left behind, an architectural behemoth of marigold bricks and accents of ruddy stone.
Out from the seemingly endless void that was the ocean came a rather large hand that would tap on the glass surrounding the water, Brand, and the odd building he had been in. The water within the fishbowl would shudder with each tap of her fingers before Khitti herself would lean over and peer down through the glass itself. She was always on the outside trying to look in when it came to Brand and now was no different. The redhead seemed sad that he was so far away, but still opted to feed him as it seemed to be the only affection he’d ever willingly affect (something something the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach--or through his liver, in Brand’s case). Tiny slices of cake, cookies, and pies were dropped into the bowl, just right for the tiny Catalian; she was even nice enough to give him bottles of whiskey, despite the fact that Khitti still wasn’t too fond of his drinking, though she’d shared in it many times herself. Once he was fed, the ever-unhappy Khitti would prop her head up on her hands, elbows firmly planted on the table that she was seated at and the fishbowl was sitting on.
Brand seemed strangely unperturbed by the suddenly giant Khitti, or the fact that he was apparently suddenly in a fishbowl. Dream logic, yo. It also made sense to him that he was no longer wearing a shirt, and his bottom half was a fish tail like one of those mermaids Khitti so adored those stories about. He swam about inside the bowl, collecting treats here and there as they sank, all thoughts of Viera erased for now by the short memory of a sleeping brain.
Khitti reached into the bowl and poked at Brand as he ate, emerald eyes watching him carefully. “You’re never gonna come out of zhere, are you? Are you actually happy in zhere, all by yourself? Don’t you ever get lonely?” She poked his side, then his tail before finally retracting her hand from the water. Next she’d drop a toy spider into the water, one that looked suspiciously like a certain white, cow-sized arachnid.
Brand gladly took the toy spider and plopped it atop his head, but Khitti’s words were rewarded only with a scowl. “Nope. And you keep sayin’ that, expectin’ a different answer. Ain’t that the definition of insanity?” He had a point, but it was probably difficult to take him seriously when he had a fish tail where his legs ought to be and a spider for a hat. “Then again, we’re all mad here. Isn’t that right?” It wasn’t immediately apparent who he was talking to -- his own tailfin? No, something was emerging from it like a budding plant. Sprouting, one might say. It grew faster and faster and took shape as another mer-person’s tail fin entirely, another man’s torso, arms, head -- and when Dominic was made whole beside him, his fins separated from Brand’s. Dominic pulled the spider from atop Brand’s head and hugged it to his chest. “I’m perfectly normal, thanks,” Dominic insisted. “It’s you two who are the weird ones. See?” A book spawned as if from thin air (thin water?), and Dominic thumbed through its pages until he came to the page he was looking for -- some text, and a crudely scrawled picture of what might be Khitti and Brand if you squinted real hard and cocked your head to one side. “It says so right here. Khitti and Brand: super weird. Unlikable by pretty much everyone except each other. Probably doomed to die in some brutal battle, or for no good reason at all.” The text was an illegible, smeared mess, but that didn’t seem to stop Dominic from rattling off what the page allegedly said. “Dominic: Perfectly normal. Regarded fondly by all who encounter him. Likes books and tea and long walks on the beach.” Okay, but how is he supposed to walk with those fins?
“Oh zhat book’s definitely right. Ve’re going to die horribly and it’ll probably be my fault. I bet Brand’s going to have to set me on fire too! Does it say that? I bet it does.” Khitti reached in again, handing Dominic a tiny cup of tea. “It’s your favorite, dear. Just how you like it.” Probably shouldn’t try to make sense of how he’s supposed to drink tea underwater, to be honest. “Brand, vhy can’t you be normal like Dominic? He’s so kind and gentle. Definitely shouldn’t be vith someone like me. I’m probably gonna get zhe poor guy killed or vorse!” Wait, what’s actually worse than death? “You need to find yourself a nice mermaid and settle down, Dominic.” Using the end of her index finger, she patted him lightly on the head.
Dominic just kinda sat there -- as much as one can ‘sit’ in the middle of water -- and sipped at the tea Khitti had provided him with, staring with a faint smile into its depths. Brand took the other’s distraction as an opportunity to snatch the book from where it had been left, floating, at Dominic’s side. “Lemme see that,” he grumbled, and started rifling through the pages. Page after page of illegible ‘text’ filled the book, along with a scattered image here and there. Brand squinted, trying to make out the markings into something coherent, but it was no use. And the longer he stared, the more he was drawn in, until the entirety of Khitti and the fish bowl melted away and Brand was running (running! He had his legs back!) along a never-ending page, dodging the words and fancy serifs and punctuation marks that rose up around him and occasionally having to trek around a picture or two. What was he even looking for? He didn’t even remember anymore. It just seemed important that he keep running, keep running, keep running. He was always running, wasn’t he? Yes. No? That was Dominic’s job, the little gorram idealist. Still, there seemed no other option. Keep running. Never stop running. Keep searching, and he’d remember what he was hoping to find eventually, right? Brand’s hunt continued, increasingly frenzied, until he bumped into a series of bolded letters, rocketing up off of the page to such a height that he could only just barely make out where they ended. “THE TIME FOR SCHISM IS ENDING,” they read, as clear as the other words had been muddled. “YOU ARE TO BECOME ONE.” And there -- there, sprinting just on the other side of the text, was a shadow. As quick as the Daggers’ best horses, it sprang from word to word, ever closer to Brand. At the final letter it leapt the remaining distance to plunge down atop him, changing in form and hue as it plummeted until at last the shadow -- Viera, now screeching infernally -- threw a fist of blood and ice directly into Brand’s abdomen.
And Brand awoke, his skin at once both sweating and chilled, and promptly vomited off the side of the bed.
How long had she been asleep? It felt like only minutes when in fact it had been a couple hours. All had not been as Khitti’d hoped as Brand emptied whatever contents was left in his stomach onto the floor--what she’d -hoped- was he’d sleep through the night and be right as rain the next day. No such luck apparently. Khitti woke up not long after he had, concern promptly written all over her face, “Oh Brand...I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t possibly feel any worse at this point. “Hey...try to drink zhis. Please.” With one hand rubbing his back, she’d reach for the cup of tea and try to hand it over. “I know you’re not fond of it, but…” Unfortunately, Khitti didn’t know what else to do for him; all that studying and reading for hours on end wasn’t helping her right now.