[He does not even need to nod. His silence and especially that look on his face tells her everything that she needs to know, and that these two men had played a part in it all.
There's a moment of dreadful silence, like the calm before the storm over a vast, endless stretch of sea, during which the two of them seem to understand what is about to happen to them. There is the briefest flash of yellow around the rims of Benedikta's eyes, Garuda stirring once more in response to that spike of fury in her. But it is only for that split second before it is all of her own anger, all of her own pent up rage that comes pouring out. She is tired and spent after searching for him for so long, and to find out that while she had been looking for him, scared for him, that this is what they had been doing?
If only she had been smarter. If only she had been faster. If only she had been there when they took him so that they would not have hurt him at all. She should have been able to save him sooner.
She feels sick to her stomach with anger with herself and with these people. These despicable people who would dare harm the man that she loves.
There's a crash of metal from somewhere in the room, the rattling of cabinet doors, the shuffle and tearing of papers as they are picked up on the wind that grows and grows, creating a small but powerful vortex from where she stands over the table, clutching the man beneath her.
The other tries to lunge at her, but in the blink of an eye, she shifts. Her body pulses with magic, the marks glowing bright, and in the next second, she is impaling each one of them with those large talons again. They make choked noises together as blood spatters over their work, over the table, each other, and over Benedikta.]
If only I could make your deaths slower.
[But with the thundering booms from outside and the never-ending quakes that shake the entire island, she knows that she cannot give herself or Cid that satisfaction. She supposes messy, painful deaths will have to do.]
I hope you see my face while you burn in the depths of hell.
[And with a roar, a shrill scream that shatters through the room and the halls, the wind bursts outward and Benedikta slices through them both with a squeeze until she hears their ribs crack.
But she is not finished because they are not dead yet.
She drops them both to the ground and slashes at them, again and again and again, tears burning her eyes as she screams at them, as she tries to force back the memories of their past. How she felt when she first found out about the curse on his arm. How it felt to touch it for the first time, those little speckles of stone. How angry she was then. How her own feels as they still spread across her shoulders.
That they would dare treat him like some toy... Like some test that they could torture over and over...
And with each memory, each thought, comes another slash of her claws, tearing them apart, until their screams die out.
It is not until she is finally out of breath, her face dirty with sweat and blood and streaked with tears beneath the rippling magic, does she turn around to look at Cid, her chest heaving, the two men as good as dead on the floor at her feet...]
cw: violence and blood >_>
There's a moment of dreadful silence, like the calm before the storm over a vast, endless stretch of sea, during which the two of them seem to understand what is about to happen to them. There is the briefest flash of yellow around the rims of Benedikta's eyes, Garuda stirring once more in response to that spike of fury in her. But it is only for that split second before it is all of her own anger, all of her own pent up rage that comes pouring out. She is tired and spent after searching for him for so long, and to find out that while she had been looking for him, scared for him, that this is what they had been doing?
If only she had been smarter. If only she had been faster. If only she had been there when they took him so that they would not have hurt him at all. She should have been able to save him sooner.
She feels sick to her stomach with anger with herself and with these people. These despicable people who would dare harm the man that she loves.
There's a crash of metal from somewhere in the room, the rattling of cabinet doors, the shuffle and tearing of papers as they are picked up on the wind that grows and grows, creating a small but powerful vortex from where she stands over the table, clutching the man beneath her.
The other tries to lunge at her, but in the blink of an eye, she shifts. Her body pulses with magic, the marks glowing bright, and in the next second, she is impaling each one of them with those large talons again. They make choked noises together as blood spatters over their work, over the table, each other, and over Benedikta.]
If only I could make your deaths slower.
[But with the thundering booms from outside and the never-ending quakes that shake the entire island, she knows that she cannot give herself or Cid that satisfaction. She supposes messy, painful deaths will have to do.]
I hope you see my face while you burn in the depths of hell.
[And with a roar, a shrill scream that shatters through the room and the halls, the wind bursts outward and Benedikta slices through them both with a squeeze until she hears their ribs crack.
But she is not finished because they are not dead yet.
She drops them both to the ground and slashes at them, again and again and again, tears burning her eyes as she screams at them, as she tries to force back the memories of their past. How she felt when she first found out about the curse on his arm. How it felt to touch it for the first time, those little speckles of stone. How angry she was then. How her own feels as they still spread across her shoulders.
That they would dare treat him like some toy... Like some test that they could torture over and over...
And with each memory, each thought, comes another slash of her claws, tearing them apart, until their screams die out.
It is not until she is finally out of breath, her face dirty with sweat and blood and streaked with tears beneath the rippling magic, does she turn around to look at Cid, her chest heaving, the two men as good as dead on the floor at her feet...]