[Somehow, impossibly, there's still no fire. No pain. Only Annette's hands curling into her shirt and the anguished sound of her voice jerking Lys out of her prone position, the admission of anymore like a fish hook in her brain. Her head lifts, red-rimmed eyes staring blankly down at Annette out of a tear-stained and too-pale face. She can't seem to find her voice—only mouth the shape of words as her lips move soundlessly, useless half-questions and confused denials, until finally she swallows hard.]
Y-You...you don't understand.
[To her endless self-disgust, she feels just a tiny bit calmer (though she certainly doesn't deserve to be), Annette's obvious distress pushing away a little of her own panicked despair. It was always so much harder to get swept up in her own pain when someone else was suffering right next to her, even when all she wanted was to block out the world entirely. Very, very slowly, as though afraid Annette might spook, Lys brushes her knuckles against the other girl's face with infinite gentleness, wiping away some of the tears.]
[ The words drop from Lys's lips and bounce right off Annette, whatever weight they might have held completely dissipating as they travel the scant few inches from one girl to the other. ]
So?
[ Her voice is still edged with panic, still too shrill for comfort. ]
I'm dangerous too. Dimitri is dangerous, Felix is dangerous, almost everyone I know here is dangerous somehow. Am I supposed to kill all of them too?
[ To her, it's such a paltry excuse and not even worth repeating. If she set out to kill every single person she knew that might possibly be a threat to her life, she simply wouldn't have any friends left. Maybe Lys is actually dangerous in her canine form and maybe she isn't, Annette doesn't have the wherewithal at the moment to think rationally about it, but either way she simply can't reconcile her gentle giant of a friend with the image of a bloodthirsty wolf that might snap her neck in one swift motion.
She should calm down, take a few deep breaths to calm the rapidfire beat of her heart. Instead, she grabs onto Lys's hand, her grip no looser than before. ]
If we're killing people just because they're dangerous, then you might as well kill me too.
[It's not a snap—even now, emotions running wild, Lys wasn't inclined toward anger—but there's a clipped, shrill edge to it to match Annette's, sudden like a wire drawn too tight. The idea of hurting (much less killing) her friends because of what she truly was never got any easier to contemplate, even after seven years. Lys shakes her head, grimacing as the power inside her continues to ricochet like marbles on glass, and forces herself to take the deep, meditative breaths that Annette does not.
It doesn't really help. Adrenaline's still pounding through her body like electricity through an overloaded power line, fight-or-flight instincts loudly shrieking that danger was threateningly near. But Lys tries anyway, putting her free hand over Annette's and making no move to pull away.]
You...you're dangerous because you've got powerful magic, okay, fine. You studied it and you practiced it, and you even went to school for it, because it's something normal where you're from. Something natural, like wind and fire and rain. But me...what I really am...we're not even supposed to exist. Our world would be better off if we were all dead.
[ Dimly, she can see Lys's mouth moving, lips forming shapes that correspond to words. Those words flit through her brain, alighting briefly on neurons just long enough to leave behind a thumbprint of meaning before they vanish again.
A hysterical giggle escapes her throat as she continues staring, mouth parting with each new word she hears. Normal? Natural? Is she hearing things right? What does that have to do with anything, especially considering where they are. The last thing any of them should be arguing about is what's considered normal or not. ]
We're not in your world anymore, or in mine. You think there's anything normal about being in a place where we're expected to—to have sex all the time and instead of buying things we want with money we have to use stupid squares?
[ It sounds even more ludricrous now that she's stated it out loud but she doesn't even pay it any mind, continuing her tirade now that the dam on her emotions has broken. Anger, sadness, disbelief...they come rushing out all at once. ]
I don't care about what's normal, Lys, I care about you! And I'm glad you exist, because if you hadn't I wouldn't have gotten to know you.
[ Thinking about a life on the island without Lys in it....she would rather not think about that at all. ]
[Not now and not before. Not later, either. She can tell just by Annette's voice that all she's doing is making an awful situation even worse, but she doesn't know how to fix it. Claiming to care about her, to be happy that she exists despite now knowing the truth—it rings hollow and strange. Goes against everything she's been taught, everything that's been drilled into her. Everything she's already convinced herself was true.
Annette was human. Whole, complete, without a curse twisting her true nature and shadowing her soul. And Lys was not. They sat less than a foot away from each other, yet the distance between them might as well have been a thousand miles.]
No matter where I go, I'll always be a monster. My world, your world...and here, too. Caring about me is just gonna make you more upset and confused.
[A deep, shuddering breath that seems to claw its way slowly and painfully out of her chest. Lys shrugs stiffly, staring past their joined hands at nothing as she tries to steer the jagged mess their conversation has become.]
...listen, you...y-you can't tell anyone about this. You just can't. Please. If anyone from my guild showed up here, if they found out—they'd hurt you.
[ Slowly her mouth closes, teeth gritting together and the fingers of her free hand curling into a small fist, a paltry attempt at stopping herself from reaching out to vehemently shake Lys by the shoulders.
She's wants to scream, wants to repeat the words you are not a monster over and over again until they finally make it through that thick skull and into Lys's brain. But nothing she's said so far seems to have gotten through, the words Lys throws at her even now forming a solid and well-perfected defense. Whatever - whoever - had carved those beliefs deep into her had done so over with unfailing repetition over the course of a long time.
It's not something she's going to be able to change right away, and especially not in the span of a day. All she can do is set the other girl at ease, soothe any and all fears that crop up as best she can. Everything else she can work on untangling later, knot by knot.
Slowly, her nerves settle back down, her breathing evening out in her chest. Her gaze drops down momentarily, staring at a small spot on the floor. ]
Okay. [ Her voice is small now, hesitant. ] I promise I won't tell anyone about this. About you.
[ She looks up again, gaze frank. ]
But I'm not gonna stop caring about you. And you're not a monster, no matter what anyone else says.
every time you act nasty, i mail a potato to your house
[Lys doesn't say anything at first. Only nods and seems to deflate on the spot, numb relief soothing away some of the stress carving fresh lines into her young face. Shoulders slumping, she breathes out, listening to the rest of what Annette's says with only half an ear. The words are less important than the other girl's voice, the sound of it helping to settle the power inside her until it's no longer spinning out of control.
And then something pretending to be a smile slides across her face. Brittle as glass, oddly shadowed by the way her head doesn't lift to meet Annette's gaze.]
You're only saying that because you haven't seen everything. If you did, you'd change your mind.
[It's such a stupid thing to offer, like baring her throat to a hunter. Completely self-defeating. Just how many guild teachings has she broken now, anyway? Too many. And yet the idea twists in her like shrapnel trapped under flesh, needling her with a masochistic epistemology as familiar as her own face: whatever hurts is true.]
[ This, at least, she can deal with. There's enough reason still coiled in her mind that she sits up a little straighter at this admission, rather than letting it knock her back yet another foot. Her hand, still clutched around Lys's, lowers. The confidence unfurling in her body spreads to her voice, which rings out clearly when she speaks. ]
Then show me. Show me everything and I'll see if I change my mind or not.
[ It's a challenge for her as much as it is Lys. She can't fathom the depths of Lys's secrets, feels like she's only witnessing the tip top of the iceberg when so much of it still remains hidden under the water.
But if she knows anything, it's that she trusts Lys. Almost a year they've been together here on this island and not once has Lys tried to hurt her in any way, barring the strange machinations of the island. Even that had been tempered at the edges, both of them turning away before irrepairable damage could be done. ]
[The strange, unnatural smile lingers for several moments as Lys tilts her head ever so slightly toward the sound of Annette speaking, listening to the impossible confidence in Annette's voice. Then the expression breaks apart, replaced by nothing at all as her face smooths over; turns as flat and opaque as clouded glass. Raising their joined hands, Lys gently but determinedly breaks Annette's grip—peeling off her fingers one by one, if she has to. It's easy.
Then she stands up. Steps back a few paces. Stares directly ahead at a random spot on the far wall.
And changes.
Another blur of motion, of color—skin giving way to dark fur, pointed ears framing a lupine head. But the creature revealed is so much bigger now, brawny and barrel-chested, standing upright on two legs with a huge fluffy tail out for balance. At least eight feet tall, it looms over Annette like a monolith, clawed hands flexing into huge fists as it pants through parted jaws filled with razored fangs. A mountain of fur and muscle and feral strength; a monster whose claws could rend flesh to dollrags, whose weight forces the sturdy floor to dip and creak under the strain; a werewolf.
It doesn't speak. Doesn't move except to breathe, intelligent brown eyes burning out of that animalistic excuse for a face. It only waits for Annette to do something, say something; scream, faint, run away.
Attack.]
that piss will be the perfect seasoning for the mashed potatoes i make you
[ Her heart beats quicker when Lys finally moves away, Annette's eyes widening automatically in preparation for what's to come. What exactly that is she doesn't know but she steels herself for it nonetheless, shoulders tensing and now-empty hands pulling closer to her chest.
Her eyes follow the short path Lys takes—and then widen even further when the taller girl changes right before her eyes.
It would be a lie to say she doesn't feel a momentary burst of fear at the swift transformation, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm as her fingers curl into fists and her already light skin paling further. There's only remnants of humanity in the creature in front of her now, a creature most others would call a monster. And if she hadn't known that this was Lys, if she had just seen this creature on the street without any warning or preamble, would she have immediately dismissed it for a monster too? She's ashamed to admit that she probably would have.
But this is Lys, she reminds herself. Even if she looks terribly different on the outside, surely she's still the same on the inside, warm-hearted and ever supportive. She should say something reassuring, something that will help cut the tension that still drifts between them. Something that will convince Lys that Annette won't run away or abandon her, even after all this.
Instead, in true Annette fashion, she fumbles and completely misses the landing. ]
[Expressions are a difficult thing when your face is too wolfish to be fully human—fangs, a muzzle, dark fur layered heavily over an altered bone structure—but somehow just human enough for emotion to manifest regardless. Brown eyes narrowing slightly, nostrils flaring as though scenting Annette's fear, the massive head dips as the pointed ears flatten back. Slowly, slowly, Lys drops to one knee, broad shoulders slumping in a laughably vain attempt to appear just a little smaller, less of an overwhelming threat.
More slowly still, she reaches out to try and gently cup Annette's face (her whole head, really) with a furry hand that's roughly the size of a dinner plate; large fingers with thick paw-pads fully extended, blunt claws held carefully out of the way. Lys doesn't have a name for the feeling twisting through her like barbed wire, pushing her to attempt such a ridiculous, foolhardy, embarrassingly sentimental gesture. Maybe she hopes Annette will spook and lash out, burning her to ash with destructive fire magic. Maybe she simply can't help but test the other girl's resolve.
Even if she knew what to call the feeling, she couldn't articulate it. Not like this. In lieu of words, Lys again watches for Annette's reaction.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Y-You...you don't understand.
[To her endless self-disgust, she feels just a tiny bit calmer (though she certainly doesn't deserve to be), Annette's obvious distress pushing away a little of her own panicked despair. It was always so much harder to get swept up in her own pain when someone else was suffering right next to her, even when all she wanted was to block out the world entirely. Very, very slowly, as though afraid Annette might spook, Lys brushes her knuckles against the other girl's face with infinite gentleness, wiping away some of the tears.]
I'm dangerous.
no subject
So?
[ Her voice is still edged with panic, still too shrill for comfort. ]
I'm dangerous too. Dimitri is dangerous, Felix is dangerous, almost everyone I know here is dangerous somehow. Am I supposed to kill all of them too?
[ To her, it's such a paltry excuse and not even worth repeating. If she set out to kill every single person she knew that might possibly be a threat to her life, she simply wouldn't have any friends left. Maybe Lys is actually dangerous in her canine form and maybe she isn't, Annette doesn't have the wherewithal at the moment to think rationally about it, but either way she simply can't reconcile her gentle giant of a friend with the image of a bloodthirsty wolf that might snap her neck in one swift motion.
She should calm down, take a few deep breaths to calm the rapidfire beat of her heart. Instead, she grabs onto Lys's hand, her grip no looser than before. ]
If we're killing people just because they're dangerous, then you might as well kill me too.
no subject
[It's not a snap—even now, emotions running wild, Lys wasn't inclined toward anger—but there's a clipped, shrill edge to it to match Annette's, sudden like a wire drawn too tight. The idea of hurting (much less killing) her friends because of what she truly was never got any easier to contemplate, even after seven years. Lys shakes her head, grimacing as the power inside her continues to ricochet like marbles on glass, and forces herself to take the deep, meditative breaths that Annette does not.
It doesn't really help. Adrenaline's still pounding through her body like electricity through an overloaded power line, fight-or-flight instincts loudly shrieking that danger was threateningly near. But Lys tries anyway, putting her free hand over Annette's and making no move to pull away.]
You...you're dangerous because you've got powerful magic, okay, fine. You studied it and you practiced it, and you even went to school for it, because it's something normal where you're from. Something natural, like wind and fire and rain. But me...what I really am...we're not even supposed to exist. Our world would be better off if we were all dead.
sets you on fire
A hysterical giggle escapes her throat as she continues staring, mouth parting with each new word she hears. Normal? Natural? Is she hearing things right? What does that have to do with anything, especially considering where they are. The last thing any of them should be arguing about is what's considered normal or not. ]
We're not in your world anymore, or in mine. You think there's anything normal about being in a place where we're expected to—to have sex all the time and instead of buying things we want with money we have to use stupid squares?
[ It sounds even more ludricrous now that she's stated it out loud but she doesn't even pay it any mind, continuing her tirade now that the dam on her emotions has broken. Anger, sadness, disbelief...they come rushing out all at once. ]
I don't care about what's normal, Lys, I care about you! And I'm glad you exist, because if you hadn't I wouldn't have gotten to know you.
[ Thinking about a life on the island without Lys in it....she would rather not think about that at all. ]
finally
[Not now and not before. Not later, either. She can tell just by Annette's voice that all she's doing is making an awful situation even worse, but she doesn't know how to fix it. Claiming to care about her, to be happy that she exists despite now knowing the truth—it rings hollow and strange. Goes against everything she's been taught, everything that's been drilled into her. Everything she's already convinced herself was true.
Annette was human. Whole, complete, without a curse twisting her true nature and shadowing her soul. And Lys was not. They sat less than a foot away from each other, yet the distance between them might as well have been a thousand miles.]
No matter where I go, I'll always be a monster. My world, your world...and here, too. Caring about me is just gonna make you more upset and confused.
[A deep, shuddering breath that seems to claw its way slowly and painfully out of her chest. Lys shrugs stiffly, staring past their joined hands at nothing as she tries to steer the jagged mess their conversation has become.]
...listen, you...y-you can't tell anyone about this. You just can't. Please. If anyone from my guild showed up here, if they found out—they'd hurt you.
barfs on you with my barfhands too
She's wants to scream, wants to repeat the words you are not a monster over and over again until they finally make it through that thick skull and into Lys's brain. But nothing she's said so far seems to have gotten through, the words Lys throws at her even now forming a solid and well-perfected defense. Whatever - whoever - had carved those beliefs deep into her had done so over with unfailing repetition over the course of a long time.
It's not something she's going to be able to change right away, and especially not in the span of a day. All she can do is set the other girl at ease, soothe any and all fears that crop up as best she can. Everything else she can work on untangling later, knot by knot.
Slowly, her nerves settle back down, her breathing evening out in her chest. Her gaze drops down momentarily, staring at a small spot on the floor. ]
Okay. [ Her voice is small now, hesitant. ] I promise I won't tell anyone about this. About you.
[ She looks up again, gaze frank. ]
But I'm not gonna stop caring about you. And you're not a monster, no matter what anyone else says.
every time you act nasty, i mail a potato to your house
And then something pretending to be a smile slides across her face. Brittle as glass, oddly shadowed by the way her head doesn't lift to meet Annette's gaze.]
You're only saying that because you haven't seen everything. If you did, you'd change your mind.
[It's such a stupid thing to offer, like baring her throat to a hunter. Completely self-defeating. Just how many guild teachings has she broken now, anyway? Too many. And yet the idea twists in her like shrapnel trapped under flesh, needling her with a masochistic epistemology as familiar as her own face: whatever hurts is true.]
good, i love potatoes
Then show me. Show me everything and I'll see if I change my mind or not.
[ It's a challenge for her as much as it is Lys. She can't fathom the depths of Lys's secrets, feels like she's only witnessing the tip top of the iceberg when so much of it still remains hidden under the water.
But if she knows anything, it's that she trusts Lys. Almost a year they've been together here on this island and not once has Lys tried to hurt her in any way, barring the strange machinations of the island. Even that had been tempered at the edges, both of them turning away before irrepairable damage could be done. ]
you're getting piss potatoes
Then she stands up. Steps back a few paces. Stares directly ahead at a random spot on the far wall.
And changes.
Another blur of motion, of color—skin giving way to dark fur, pointed ears framing a lupine head. But the creature revealed is so much bigger now, brawny and barrel-chested, standing upright on two legs with a huge fluffy tail out for balance. At least eight feet tall, it looms over Annette like a monolith, clawed hands flexing into huge fists as it pants through parted jaws filled with razored fangs. A mountain of fur and muscle and feral strength; a monster whose claws could rend flesh to dollrags, whose weight forces the sturdy floor to dip and creak under the strain; a werewolf.
It doesn't speak. Doesn't move except to breathe, intelligent brown eyes burning out of that animalistic excuse for a face. It only waits for Annette to do something, say something; scream, faint, run away.
Attack.]
that piss will be the perfect seasoning for the mashed potatoes i make you
Her eyes follow the short path Lys takes—and then widen even further when the taller girl changes right before her eyes.
It would be a lie to say she doesn't feel a momentary burst of fear at the swift transformation, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm as her fingers curl into fists and her already light skin paling further. There's only remnants of humanity in the creature in front of her now, a creature most others would call a monster. And if she hadn't known that this was Lys, if she had just seen this creature on the street without any warning or preamble, would she have immediately dismissed it for a monster too? She's ashamed to admit that she probably would have.
But this is Lys, she reminds herself. Even if she looks terribly different on the outside, surely she's still the same on the inside, warm-hearted and ever supportive. She should say something reassuring, something that will help cut the tension that still drifts between them. Something that will convince Lys that Annette won't run away or abandon her, even after all this.
Instead, in true Annette fashion, she fumbles and completely misses the landing. ]
You're even taller like this.
[ It comes out a squeak. ]
i got psychic damage from reading that, thank u
More slowly still, she reaches out to try and gently cup Annette's face (her whole head, really) with a furry hand that's roughly the size of a dinner plate; large fingers with thick paw-pads fully extended, blunt claws held carefully out of the way. Lys doesn't have a name for the feeling twisting through her like barbed wire, pushing her to attempt such a ridiculous, foolhardy, embarrassingly sentimental gesture. Maybe she hopes Annette will spook and lash out, burning her to ash with destructive fire magic. Maybe she simply can't help but test the other girl's resolve.
Even if she knew what to call the feeling, she couldn't articulate it. Not like this. In lieu of words, Lys again watches for Annette's reaction.]