escordvi | closed ⚡🪶 and forevermore, i'll be chasing the storm we had.

[She does let her go, only by lowering her feet to the ground, but she keeps her pinned to the wall, the conflict swirling crystal clear in her eyes and setting in the tension between her shoulders when Cid reaches for her.]

What the fuck is going on!?

[She looks to Cid, then back at the woman trembling under her grip, her own eyes wide as they search Cid's face.

"You... he sent you to get me, didn't he?"

Her ears are ringing, the screech of Garuda's rage dying down until all that's left is her own confusion.]

[Cid falters between Benedikta and the girl before he looks at her.]

No, we were after the fabrics. We didn't know.

[He can hear the sound of alarms, and his grip tightens on Benedikta as he tries to get her to let her go.]

But are you safe? With them?

[The Paladins.]

[Sent them...to get her?

Benedikta finally does let her go, and the woman gasps to take more air into her lungs. The sirens and bells blaring above them are nothing more than background noise as she looks over the woman with... worry? Rage? Guilt? She doesn't know anymore, and the seamstress stares right back with the same sort of look.]

No. She's not.

[Benedikta says it before she can even answer Cid, but her voice is distant still. In some faraway place on Ash where her fifteen-year-old self is sobbing in the middle of that clearing as her feet bleed from running.]

You are his—?

[But the thought is interrupted when she hears feet thundering on the floor above, more Paladins coming for them, and something shifts in Benedikta's demeanor as she turns to Cid, almost pleading in nature.]

She is not safe here, Cidolfus.

[There's a conflicted look as he looks between Benedikta and the girl, but—]

I'm not—

["No!" the woman shouts at them, the fear there but now fierce determination and rebellion burn her eyes. "I will not be taken by another, I am living my own life of my choice!"

Well if there was one way to sway Cid, it's those very words. Though of course there's more to it, and there is still the very real threat over this woman's head.]

Where would we even take her? Would you really have all the mercenaries and hunters after her come at us instead?

[Those words strike a chord in Benedikta, but it only fires up her own determination and rebellion in response, both to her, and to Cid, and it mixes dangerously with desperation, making her voice crack as she shouts over the sound of the bells.]

The Enterprise. You know that it is the safest ship on Nogard.

["I'm not going back there!"

Benedikta ignores her. They do not have time for this.]

With six Dominants on board, she would be protected. Otherwise, more Corsairs will just find her instead.

[His gaze hardens, and he knows she'll hate him for this, but—]

If things were different I'd agree, but we can't.

[He steps between her and the girl.

Were this Valisthea, had they had some actual hideaway to go to, then yes. Perhaps he could grant her wish. It's clear this woman has a bounty on her head with many going after her, and for all the Paladins' efforts, it may not be enough. They're here, after all.

But they do not have those advantages. Dominants or not, they are not made to fight on the water, let alone it's not just Dominants on that boat.]

What do you mean, different?

[She eyes him stubbornly, looking behind at the other woman who looks to be around her age, perhaps younger, and then back at Cid.]

You both truly believe that these Paladins will protect you?

[The fact that they even managed to get on the ship at all is pretty damning for them.

But Benedikta doesn't even know why she's getting so worked up about this. Why it bothers her so goddamn much to see this woman refuse help when there is someone after her. Someone who would call her his "property" and sent her to fetch "it." If she wants to stay, then why can't she just leave this alone? Turn around and walk off and let her have this ship full of incompetent do-gooders who can't do shit to protect her?]

[A small sigh.]

Listen—

[But the thudding of boots grow louder along with the voices, and while Cid has a lot he wants to say, he has to keep it short. So he grabs Benedikta's arm instead.]

You're right, they might not be enough, but how long would we have to keep her for? The man won't give up, so instead of focusing on her, focus on the real problem.

Get rid of that, then she won't need any protection.

[Several different, complicated emotions swim in Benedikta's gaze.

Why would this woman willfully stand there and tell them... no, believe that this is choosing her own life? How could she not try to save herself? This man will clearly stop at nothing if he is willing to pay a fine sum for her capture. It makes sense now, and in hindsight, yes, she should have heeded Cid's warnings, and perhaps that's why she's feeling so worked up about this. That he was right again.

Yes, that must be it.

Not the guilt that threads itself right into her very being and makes a home within her. Not the rage that surges through her at the mention of that wretched man who she vows to drive her sword through the moment she finds him. Not the strange familiarity that she feels as she looks at this woman, sees the fear along with that fiery determination in her stare...]

You really—

[But Benedikta is interrupted by the Paladins that come bounding down the stairs.

The seamstress gives her a rueful smile. "Please. This is my choice."

One last pleading look at Cid, but she knows that he won't change his stance. But it does beg the question of "now what"? Do they make a run for it? Do they stay and fight? Does she just scoop this woman up in a claw and fly off with her? Take her someplace where the man cannot find her?

All questions that are conveyed with a single glance.]

[He won't change his stance, no, but she'll see the complicated expression and slight regret and denying her in doing so. But then there's the wince and hiss as he's reminded of that gash that's opened more a bit from all that movement.

That's still bleeding.

But he just grits his teeth.]

We need to leave. Doubt they'll be friendly even with the change of heart.

Edited 2024-01-26 07:23 (UTC)

[Fucking shit, she had forgotten about his bleeding, and anger flares up in her chest again. She should be mad at this woman, but all she feels at her is disbelief. The seamstress apologizes profusely to Cid, telling him that she was simply trying to defend herself, and he says that they need to leave, but Benedikta's feet are rooted.

Sensing the conflict, the seamstress steps around Cid and reaches out to her, her small hands grabbing Benedikta's arm, startling her.

"Please. I promise you that I will be safe here."

She's still not sure whether she can believe it, nor is she sure how to settle this mass of feelings that knot together in the pit of her stomach, but the footsteps are now at the other end of the hall, and it is either leave now or get caught up in another fight. She'd settle for the latter regardless of what they all think, and she thinks she should...

But...

Her eyes land on Cid's hand clutching his side.

There's a large gust of wind that crashes through the corridor, blowing the guards off their feet the moment they come into view. And then another that blasts through the wall, shattering it to create their escape route, and as it dies down, Benedikta's wings unfold. She wraps her arms around Cid and leaps them both out before the guards can catch them, taking them down to his boat that has drifted some ways away from the ship, setting him down carefully on the lounge when they land.

Immediately, she walks away and starts to rummage for his first aid kit that she knows he keeps somewhere on this boat, her wings disappearing as she steps behind the wheel where he'll hear her tossing things aside hastily to find it.]

Edited 2024-01-26 16:15 (UTC)

[In many ways he expected this would happen, but it's still surprising all the same to suddenly be carried off. And when they land on his boat, he's also a bit surprised when she actually sets him down on the lounge. But with his injury...

He recalls her expression back there. The conflict between him and the woman. In some ways he's glad he was there as a reason to keep her out or it, but he also feels guilty a bit for being an obstacle and forcing her to choose. He knows if she had it her way she would have taken the woman away herself, and while her heart is in the right place...

Her mind is not.

And he knows why.

Pursing his lips, he starts to stand.]

Benedikta—

Shut up.

[She barks at him like an order from the other side of the wheel, not looking up from where she's tossing things aside, most landing on the deck until she finally finds that goddamn kit.]

You're hurt, so don't talk.

[More like she doesn't want to hear it right now, as she comes around, already uncorking the alcohol with her teeth before she's shoving him back down. She doesn't want to hear it because she doesn't know what to think, or what she's feeling right now. It's something entirely new to her, and having this to focus on is easier than being forced to face it.]

Edited 2024-01-26 16:27 (UTC)

[His mouth hangs open before whatever words he could have said are replaced with a low sigh and closes. And once he's back down, he'll let her treat him, rolling up his shirt for her with a wince.

It's a fairly long gash that starts a little deep from the initial pierce before it tapers and becomes more shallow, but it's a lot longer than he initially believed, several inches down his side. But it isn't too deep of a gash, either, what with it just being a knife and the young woman not having that much strength. Really, him running after her is what worsened it.

But he won't say anything.]

[Good, because she won't hear it.

And in spite of the hardened and angry way she stares at him and the cut, her touch is gentle as she dabs the alcohol on his wound, careful not to press too much or too hard at first as she cleans it. She tries not to let herself get too distracted from the task at hand, tries not to let her mind wander too far, but it's hard not to. The look on that girl's face, the way that man had used them to try and get to her... That twisting feeling still plaguing her, and for a moment, she feels like she might retch up everything she's eaten today.

It's a feeling she forces herself to swallow down, at least until she gets Cid bandaged up, which fortunately won't take long considering how shallow the cut is.

When she's finished, she tosses the kit aside carelessly, flicks her wrist, and the boat starts to move along with the current that the wind creates.

Without a word to him, she storms across the deck to unfurl the sail.]

[There's only the occasional grimace as she treats him, but once she's done he can only watch her as she works the sail.

What a bloody mess this is, somewhat literally, too.

He's going to give her space, but he can't let her dwell on her thoughts for long. Her mind tends to twist and spin in ways that can be difficult to untangle, especially when she gets emotional. And this whole debacle will have struck several painful thorns that he knows will be digging in deep.

So he waits.

Waits until he can no longer watch that sad, lonely looking back before he stands up to slowly approach her.]

[It's true. Those thoughts are getting twisted and spun in ways that will be difficult to untangle at this very moment, as she watches the wind catch the sail, her back turned to him so he doesn't see the anger or the confusion or the guilt laced into every line on her face. She is trying to untangle the mess, to pull out the thorns that have stuck themselves into her, but doing so only makes it worse. Thinking about it only makes it worse...

But when she hears him approach from behind, she remains surprisingly still. Surprisingly calm given that all she wants to do is scream at him. To take out her confusion and her frustration out on him, because where else is there for it to go?]

Why did you stop me?

[He stops just short of her.]

Because I had to.

[His answer makes her shoulders tighten.]

You did not have to do anything.

And what would you have done? You take the girl, then what?

Figured it out, Cidolfus.

[Her voice, once calm, finally does rise.]

Because that is all we can do. All I had to do.

[She had to "figure it out" all her life, find a way to survive in a world that would cut her throat open the moment it could and leave her to bleed out all alone. Even after he found her and brought her back to the capital, she still had to do exactly that, and then—]

All I have to do now, because there is no fucking end to it.

The girl had figured it out.

[His voice remains firm.]

You heard her. She knew the risks, but she chose her path, anyway.

[That strikes a chord and a nerve someplace very, very deep in her.]

Did she have it all figured out? Seems to me that she didn't. Those Paladins could hardly protect her from us. Imagine what a whole crew of Corsairs could do.

[They took out every single one of those guards in a fell swoop. That ship is hardly protected at all.

But what the fuck does she care anyway!?]

That man is going to come for her eventually. I could have taken her someplace safe.

So you're saying you know what's better? And for how long?

[He takes a step towards her.]

For how long would you keep her in hiding? How long would you try to "protect" her? And against her will, I might add.

[She balls her hands into fists, and her nails carve into her palms, and she whips around to face him.]

Until I've driven this— [Her hand reaches for her sword, but she doesn't draw it.] —through that man's fucking throat.

And I would have done a better job at it than those Paladins did.

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