Detached from herself, she walked the gardens, unseen by all, save for those with necromancy. She watched, silently, as her wife tried to help her. Reached out to touch Kaczor, brush a strand of hair from her face—she'd feel a breeze.
Eventually, she'd left Kaczor in the gardens, to follow her brother's voice. Standing in the doorway, defiant, even as her spirit began to shimmer—a sign that Kaczor's magic was working. She held one hand, which was fading slowly, bit-by-bit, in front of herself and stared at her brother. Her spirit didn't look right, though; one half of her was significantly warped. Ella glanced over her shoulder, to her body.
When her father arrived, she stepped narrowly out of his way. He almost stepped through her, and she trailed after him idly, almost as if she were just a bored child being pulled along on a field trip she didn't care for. Walking next to him, as he pulled her away from Kaczor, as if she were on a mission. Step-for-step, she followed from the gardens to the study.
He was brushing against her thoughts, through her mind, searching her conscious self out.
Another voice responded, "I can go instead. It can be my body, and you can stay here. It's quiet, here." The demon and Novella were seated in the depths of her mind, bargaining whilst they played chess, sitting on the floor of her childhood bedroom at the Academy.
"I like the noise. You can stay here. Deal?" The demon had made her last move, and it was up to Novella to move her piece, one last piece before the demon would take her king. "Shake my hand, and I'll go. They'll never notice. I've been with you long enough to be you. A happier you! Won't your wife like that?"
Their hands had almost touched, when Malachai's humming echoed around them. Ella's fingers folded, towards her palm.
We made a deal! The demon snarled. The demon was fast behind of her; it turned into a race for who would get out of their subconscious first. Outwardly, her body spasmed, and she flailed, heart-rate rising rapidly. If her eyes had been open, they'd have dilated with fear.
When she came to, she startled physically, enough to almost upset the delicate balance that kept them on the chair's edge. But she also found herself mentally overwhelmed by existence of emotions, thoughts—the child, the wife, the brother. Before she'd physically realized where she was, she'd begun to force those emotions, thoughts, pleas, onto her father. It'd feel as if she was attacking him on purpose; flooding his mind with everything she couldn't handle.
Her breathing stuttered, as her eyes opened. He was rocking her, she realized, it was his voice she'd heard. She hadn't put that together until this moment. She couldn't find her voice; blearily peering over Malachai's shoulder, eyes closing after a moment. She nuzzled against the side of his neck, and began to sob.
@Kaczor Tilani
@Malik Vrai
You weren't the problem, Czora.The words were whispered, and the leaves of the tree rustled overhead in response.
Eventually, she'd left Kaczor in the gardens, to follow her brother's voice. Standing in the doorway, defiant, even as her spirit began to shimmer—a sign that Kaczor's magic was working. She held one hand, which was fading slowly, bit-by-bit, in front of herself and stared at her brother. Her spirit didn't look right, though; one half of her was significantly warped. Ella glanced over her shoulder, to her body.
I don't want to go back there. Let me stay. Tell her. Tell her!
When her father arrived, she stepped narrowly out of his way. He almost stepped through her, and she trailed after him idly, almost as if she were just a bored child being pulled along on a field trip she didn't care for. Walking next to him, as he pulled her away from Kaczor, as if she were on a mission. Step-for-step, she followed from the gardens to the study.
Papa still feels right.She was yanked back into her body, without much warning. Dumped into her subconscious, which quickly took form. He'd hastened the oxygenation enough that her chest rose, slowly, irregularly. Stuttered to a stop, a few times.
He was brushing against her thoughts, through her mind, searching her conscious self out.
I don't want to go back.Her voice echoed loudly across the planes of her mind.
Another voice responded, "I can go instead. It can be my body, and you can stay here. It's quiet, here." The demon and Novella were seated in the depths of her mind, bargaining whilst they played chess, sitting on the floor of her childhood bedroom at the Academy.
You don't love them. Why do you want to go?Ella inquired, moving her chess piece. She was losing.
"I like the noise. You can stay here. Deal?" The demon had made her last move, and it was up to Novella to move her piece, one last piece before the demon would take her king. "Shake my hand, and I'll go. They'll never notice. I've been with you long enough to be you. A happier you! Won't your wife like that?"
Their hands had almost touched, when Malachai's humming echoed around them. Ella's fingers folded, towards her palm.
I... I don't want to go, but I don't think I want you to go, either.She murmured, pushing herself up.
We made a deal! The demon snarled. The demon was fast behind of her; it turned into a race for who would get out of their subconscious first. Outwardly, her body spasmed, and she flailed, heart-rate rising rapidly. If her eyes had been open, they'd have dilated with fear.
When she came to, she startled physically, enough to almost upset the delicate balance that kept them on the chair's edge. But she also found herself mentally overwhelmed by existence of emotions, thoughts—the child, the wife, the brother. Before she'd physically realized where she was, she'd begun to force those emotions, thoughts, pleas, onto her father. It'd feel as if she was attacking him on purpose; flooding his mind with everything she couldn't handle.
Her breathing stuttered, as her eyes opened. He was rocking her, she realized, it was his voice she'd heard. She hadn't put that together until this moment. She couldn't find her voice; blearily peering over Malachai's shoulder, eyes closing after a moment. She nuzzled against the side of his neck, and began to sob.
@Kaczor Tilani
@Malik Vrai
10-27-2024, 04:37 PM
