Topic: The Many Worlds I've Come...

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-02 06:15 EST

((This scene is taken from play between Valcroix, Nazareth, and myself. Guest starring: Val and Neth's mother, Maetron.))

Val smacked the doorframe with his palm. His mouth wiggles; almost a smile. "Finally," he sighs, and turns back to the living room. The space was again decent. The boards were reset, the holes were filled and Val looked at the swervy lines in his palms and his mouth was no longer wiggling. Eyes of sanguine filter to the curtains. The morning was coming in with blue and wet orange. Val stepped up and peeled the curtain away and squinted through the glass. A sickness was rolling and folding and jumping in him. His mouth wiggles and his blood rolled and jumped. He turns towards the door. He lifts his hands and stares at the swervy lines in his palms.

Valcroix's attempts to fix the boards that were ruined by himself and her brother had kept her up. She finally decided to crawl out of bed; bare feet scooted across their modest carpeting and carried her off to the bathroom. Fingers clutched the handle to turn on the tap, and palms scooped up tiny handfuls of water and brought them to her face. Cavities were an easy fix to someone like her, teeth would always grow back once plucked out, but the immortal couldn't give up the feeling of clean teeth and the taste of minty fresh breath. A toothbrush was popped into her mouth and it grinded across the surface of honed choppers. Brush, brush, brush, spit, rinse, sigh for effect, and her morning was complete. A brush was pulled through her hair, and the tangles reminded her"

She'd stopped caring about hygiene since her father poisoned her with his blood" She'd got angry when she hit a tangle, and she would crack mirrors with either a brush or a punch' That her temper was damn near out of control, as fiery as the red eyes that were brought out in the wake of her father's blood tainting her own" She raised them to the mirror"and she screamed.

Val crept to the front door. Static in the air, like an electric balloon, like a miasma. He crept and one of the new boards creaked. He reached for the knob. Did not turn it. Small eyes pierce the door, like he could see through it. Martyr shrieks and the pitchy cry carries straight up the boards and hits Val's feet like a sonic shark fin on wooden seas. This breaks his stupor and he quickly hops towards the bathroom to check on what was the matter. He leans halfway into the room. "Hey' What' Are you alright?"

A smile, stupid and too large was waiting for him just beneath wide and once again violet eyes. "B-better than alright!" Martyr shrieked with glee, and was practically bouncing in place on the tips of her toes. All at once, she was bounding over toward him the fabric of her shirt rising up with her arms but not quite showing waist as she latched herself around his shoulders and squealed again. "I'm n-normal again! M-my eyes are b-back to n-normal and I d-didn't w-wake up g-grumpy!"

The possibilities that lay in the front of her mind were endless, or so it seemed. "Oh, I w-want to go out to d-dinner! And see m-my friends! I w-want to hold M-max again! T-take her to the p-park! Oh the three of us c-can g-go out!" She clung to him, taking in his scent and for the first time in a couple weeks, appreciating it. The immortal buried her face into his neck and sighed happily. "I'm so happy r-right n-now?" Martyr mumbled blissfully.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-02 06:25 EST

Not a word was needed—those eyes caught him the minute Martyr spun them around. And his mouth split with shock. Martyr expresses her happiness, and after every line, Val nods, Val smiles, nodding deeper as she continued, smiling brightly by the time she launched herself at him. Val pulls her close and whispers, "Me too." The man is still, enjoying the motionlessness and the simple rhythms of two hearts bouncing and knocking along beside one another. "We'll do all those things," Val says happily. "I'm liking dinner with Max. Let me go make coffee, then we'll go get her. Sound good?" Val leaned back to examine Martyr's face, then releases and steps out of the bathroom. He itches his temple and peers into the living room. A frown comes. Static. "Static," he squints. He steps trepidatiously through the hall. He stops at the mouth of way and his arms seem to dislodge and sift and sway autonomously. Nazareth was leaning against the wall, just inside the doorway. The front door was closed. Slipped in when Val jogged off to check on Martyr. Her leg was stuck to the wall casually, but her head was down, sharp and even bangs still on her brow, masking her head. That sharp nose was sticking out and her arms were folded across her chest. But the Woman in White speaks first. From head-to-toe, the woman was draped in thin, white and shiny fabric. It runs down her torso like willow curtains, swirls around her legs laxly, caps her head and masks her mouth greedily. She lifts her hands and pulls down the fabric covering her lips. A long, solemn mouth was there, a mildness, a sadness there. Her eyes were large, watery and tangerine. "Valcroix. My." She presses a hand to her heart. Her eyes fall to the floorboards and she smiles lightly. "I—-did not know how I would feel," she says cautiously in a perfect and windy and knowing voice. 'seeing you again....my. I did not think I would ever again..."

Martyr was going through her closet now. She'd never been one for massive amounts of make-up, for she did not need it, or fancy clothing and hairstyles. She picked out a white sundress and smiled happily. The too-short shorts were stepped out of, not something she'd wear in public because they looked like underwear, but something at the very least to keep her comfortable in the house. The borrowed shirt from Valcroix was cast aside as she stepped into the dress and pulled the straps over her shoulders. It covered her body modestly, and flattered the right pieces. She was then skipping out toward Val, so much joy in her step as she moved.

Feet faltered at the sight, she skidded to a halt. First Nazareth, and then a strange woman, someone she'd never seen before" Staring in her fianc's direction in an unsettling manner. "V-val??" Martyr asked, her fist moved to her chest and suddenly, despite the fabric that incased her form, she felt very naked.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-02 06:31 EST

She stepped forward. Val did not move. "Please," pleadingly, earnestly, 'say something." The woman lifted a delicate hand to Val's face. Her flesh was tan like Nazareth's, in fact many of her features were very similar to Nazareth's; sharp nose, long brows, pristine eyes and a long, sultry mouth. But a wisdom beyond Nazareth stood there, and her eyes were orange. The fingers graze Val's rigid cheek. His body numbed. Red eyes were cast into the sundrop dollops adorning the woman's face, worked away, sold and stayed and locked in them. The woman smiled brilliantly, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the skinny man. Val remains still, but lowers his chin and rests it upon the woman's head. Martyr's words were obviously not reaching him.

Valcroix wasn't moving, he wasn't looking at her, acknowledging her" She didn't like it. "H-hey!" The girl yelped out and shook her head. She stomped on over, and moved to grab Val's shoulder and give him a gentle tug. She didn't like the woman's striking resemblance to Nazareth, she hated Nazareth' If she'd get ahold of that boney shoulder, she'd be giving it a hearty tug. "Answer me, p-please!" The girl opted to ask nicely, her gaze hadn't left Valcroix at the moment.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-02 06:34 EST

The woman's eyes grow with shock as Val is pried from her grasp. Again, she clutches her heart. Quickly, she turns to Nazareth. "Yeah," Nazareth said despondently. She points to Martyr with her chin. "That's her. That's Martyr—-his fiance." She smiles and nods excitedly. "Why, of course it is. Please," she says with eyes on Martyr. "Do not be angry with me. It has just—-" returning her eyes to Val. "Been—-" "A very long time," Val completes. "Too long. Lifetimes. Too long. This reunion—it's too long in the making. It does not need to be. And I am not happy." The rangy man narrows his eyes over the woman in white. Finally, the jagged pieces found homes in the puzzle. What Katan had said—"Neither of you are ready"—he and Nazareth is what his sister was trying to say. And across the room, Val issues her a bitter expression. "Your hair looks ridiculous." Strangely—she does not react. Her position stays; arms folded, foot on the wall.

The understanding, the conclusion that Val had come to, it didn't reach Martyr's comprehension. This was all very strange, and it didn't settle well with her. "Who are y-you?" The girl asked, with wide eyes. She didn't understand" The way she looked at Val, the way she touched him, it seemed like something a lover would do' Not a mother. Not family. So the girl had no choice but to look onto the woman with bitterness. Val didn't tell her much of his past with women, and she didn't ask" The immortal didn't want to know. She didn't remember hers, so why be burdened with his. ?"I d-didn't hear the d-doorbell ring?" Her eyes narrowed on Nazareth.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-02 06:52 EST

Nazareth feels Martyr's eyes and replies with her own. The woman looked girlish. Corralled and trained, a blushing hesitation on her, like restraints, like a break. She looks at Martyr with embarrassment. She does not answer Martyr and she expresses a frankness. "Valcroix—-how can you say those things to me?" Her hand leaves her heart and it falls deadly to her side. Anger comes subtly. "You know better. Look at this world you've come to." Large tangerine eyes spin around the condo. "Flat and even surfaces. Metallically polished; preened and proper and training aesthetics. What lewd conditions. Why does this please you?" Val lowers his eyes. "Your heart is empty, my young and perfect boy. You were always cold and hidden, but now you—-you're coldness is on the table. You have nothing inside you but a false need to escape. What did you escape" What did you find?" Val stared at his feet sheepishly. "I don't know," boyishly. "I just wanted a bit more than what you built for me." He musters the strength to look into her eyes. "I'm not the special thing you said I was. I know I'm not. I'm sorry, Mother. I'm just not special."

Mother" "M-mother??" The girl held her breath. "W-wait?" Then she was shaking her head. Strangely, this scenario didn't settle with her either, in fact, it curdled together in the middle of her mind. ?"He's n-not going anywhere" He d-doesn't want t-to go anywhere" So p-please leave our h-house n-now?" The girl said firmly, and all at once, that confidence dwindled away. "I m-mean, if you'd like to stay for c-coffee and that's alright with V-val" Then I g-guess that's ok-kay"b-but he's still n-not leaving!"

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-02 06:56 EST

"Coffee would be great," she says quickly. "My son will not be asking me to leave. We have much to discuss, whether he likes it or not." The woman removes the hood of her cloak, revealing long, white and peerlessly straight hair. Carefully, she steps into the living room and sits on the couch, her cadence sharply proper all the way through. More of the morning was invading the condo. Pure azure creeps over the couch and grazes her scalp and the white hair was tinted gold, just as Nazareth's did. Speaking of which, "Nazareth, help Valcroix's woman with the coffee." She eyes Val and frowns. "Now come sit and speak with me." Nazareth pushes off the wall and her large eyes buzz around the room in terror. Expectantly, her mouth falls apart and she stares directly at Martyr as she slowly steps towards the kitchen. Val walks into the living room and begins to bend into the armchair that sits across from the couch. He knew his mother did not want him to sit there. With his hands clasping the arms, Val pushes himself up and steps to the couch. He sits, his cadence sharply proper all the way through. He places both his hands atop his thighs, smiles weakly and stares into the hall. His mother's finger turns his jaw and he has no choice but to reply with eyes. His smile brightens. "I love you very much, my Valcroix. I have been so very empty since your leave." "I'm sorry..." She nods. "I know you are. I know it was a childish decision. I expected it." "I'm sorry." "Stop being sorry!" She laughs happily, leans over and softly leans against his shoulder. She sighs through that content grin.

The immortal stared on with wide eyes as the people passed her. Her head span, she swallowed hard and moved to the kitchen. She kept her phone close, ready to text her miniature army incase anything went down" She grabbed three mugs; she had not been a coffee drinker. Violet eyes turned to the only person in the room with her. "Haven't seen y-you since you n-nearly killed Phoenix and I?" The immortal mumbled. ?"How have y-you b-been?? There was bitterness in her tone, but it was a legitimate question. A hand grabbed the pot, skin singed and she ignored it' She began to pour the coffee and balanced them in a dainty grasp. When she got back to the main room, she began to pass them out. The last one was handed to Nazareth.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-04 00:36 EST

Nazareth followed Martyr into the kitchen but did nothing to aid the preparation of the coffee service. She moved to the far counter, placed her rear end against it and leaned, her eyes still wide and tense and buggering. Martyr speaks, but the short haired hellion appeared too preoccupied in herself, in her shaky apprehension, to receive any external courting. "Please," she whispers. "Tell me some stories of your travels. Tell me what you have accomplished here." While she speaks, her eyes close and a great content usurps her every expressed fiber as she lays still against her tall and rigid son.

Val returns his eyes to the hallway blankly. "There isn't much to tell. I don't remember much outside recent time anymore." "I can't believe how foolish my children are," she laughs to herself. Orange eyes peek out and turn back to Val. "What did you think was going to happen once you left Gailey' The great heart of our Dominion is there. It strengthens us, it gifts us our power, graces us with existence. And you abandoned it without a second thought." "I'm sorry." "I know."Martyr arrives with the coffee. Two hand grasp the mug and smile is traded as thanks. "Delightful, Martyr. Thank you for being so gracious." She wiggles in her seat a moment and again sits straight up to examine Martyr thoroughly. "Oh. Yes, a very pretty girl. The dark hair is filth, but you cannot help it. Val has dark hair," she turns to him. "but he looks perfect with it." Back to Martyr. "And what a unique name. Nazareth told me there's a story behind it—-that there is a story behind much of you. I would love to hear—-" Her voice trails as she sees Nazareth accept the final coffee mug in silence. "Nazareth." The blonde's head jerks up. "Yes?" She smiles and takes a small sip. "First, let me tell you how much I detest your behavior. Tell Martyr "thank you?." Rabid eyes shriek around the room, unable to locate the immortal in her panic. "Martyr, thank you. Thank you." Nazareth lifts the mug and smiles strangely." "Second—-why do you smell like her?" The woman glides out of the couch and sets her mug down. She smiles. "You smell like her. Or—-you carry some essence of hers on your person. Explain?" "Mother, I—" "You realize I can see it." "Mother!" Maetron grabs her daughter's hand, winds it around effortlessly and the bone in Nazareth's wrist snaps. The short haired blonde howls and falls out of her chair grasping the wrist. A few seconds pass, and soon the wrist is reworked. "Unbelieveable." "Mother," Nazareth sobs. "Mother, I can explain."

Maetron smiles brilliantly. "I know you can, baby girl. And I forgive you. Weakness is your curse."

The first comment addressed to her is answered with a crinkling of her nose. She ran her fingers through her hair, and stuck out her bottom lip. "I l-like m-my hair, and I l-love V-val's hair?" For some reason, she didn't appreciate any comment that was going to come from the lady tonight'she seemed too much like a jealous ex rather than a mother. When she reprimands Nazareth, Martyr doesn't understand, she was still getting passed the fact that Nazareth had said "thank you? it was an entirely new experience for the woman. She might faint! "I d-don't think she smells like m-me, and if she d-did, that w-would b-be okay, because I shower every d-day??

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-04 00:42 EST

Nazareth peers up at her mother with large, watered and jittery eyes. Her mouth falls down and the chin buckles, trying words but speaks nothing, only tiny, girlish shrieks and moist chokes. "Oh. Nazareth..." Maetron leans down and pierces Nazareth's hair, traces her scalp from front-to-back, smiling warmly. "I'm not mad at you. I just don't understand the things you do. During our walk here, all you did was squeal on my Valcroix, tattle on him for taking to this woman's blood. And here you are—-just as guilty." Maetron turns to Martyr and smiles. "You are very kind, helping my poor children. They came unprepared and were suffering because of it."

Val stares deadly at Maetron, at Nazareth. His mouth was straight and blank, his eyes unassuming, mild and moist; hypnotized.

The immortal was less afraid of Maetron, for some reason or another. She bit into her lip and shook her head. "N-no, Nazareth n-never t-took m-my b-blood I'm sure of it....I m-mean, she hurt m-me a while ago, b-but it would have worn off..." She knew the timelines of her blood too well. "You're m-making a m-mistake, there's n-no way....I m-mean, I'm n-not c-calling you a liar b-but I know w-where m-my blood goes..." The girl trailed off in volume as she spoke. She looked at Valcroix, she wanted a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she wanted to be protected, but he seemed to be a million miles away.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-04 00:50 EST

Val pulls his eyes away and they land upon Martyr. The man frowns contemplatively and leans forward on the couch. "The heart," he says to himself. His summation brings him to his feet quickly. "Damn, Nazareth. Did you...drain that boys heart, or something?" Nazareth rises with a bitter face. She examines the wrist that was still lightly throbbing, the skin on it purpled, but evening quickly. "Drain it," she smiles. "No. No: I ate it." Val pinches his temples and turns his back on the women. He is silent a moment, silent and still. "I want you all out of here. I don't have any room for you two in my life anymore." Val looks over his shoulder and locks eyes with Maetron. "Mother, I'm sorry. But I'm not foolish enough to believe that you came here for a friendly visit. I'm not going back to that goddamned desert. I'm not going to fulfill some prophecy. I mean—-how many of us are even left?"

The woman and white lightens her smile, lowers her chin and looks down her body. She presses her hand against her chest. "There's you. There's me. There's Nazareth. And since you killed Hersch—-that's all." "Her—-oh. The man who attacked us?" He looks at Martyr, remember their assailant with the purple stones for eyes. "Who was that?" "Mm. Another child of mine. He had—-problems. It's probably best that you ended his pain." Val shoots the Maetron a fierce look. "Are kidding me! That boy—-"

The tension was high, and the girl only wanted to be with her future husband and her now-and-forever, daughter. She reached for Valcroix's hand and if she'd acquired it, she'd grace it with a tight squeeze and a gentle squeak. "...Y-you ate m-my b-brother's heart"..." Martyr asked Nazareth. "Y-you'll n-never change, will y-you?" Doe-eyed and beautiful, Martyr stares up at the woman. Her face is a fallen building that had never once stood very tall, but collapsed all the same. She sighed.

Nazareth replied to Martyr with an empty look. Slowly, she gravitates to Maetron and once she had stepped up, she leans into her ear and whispers imperatively. "Mother! Let's just go! I want to go home....We don't need him." And Maetron nods sagely to Nazareth's little hisses. "Yes," she says. "I know, baby girl. We'll go." The stoic woman shuffles uncomfortably, pinches her lips and turns her large orange eyes around the room. She sighs, "Valcroix." Her son does not reply. "You never respected my ideas, I know. But I know that you have witnessed the ugliness. Seen the way we—-" "Shut up," Val barks back. Martyr had latched her hand to his, but all at once he tugged it away. "You never lifted a fuckin" finger, mother. Never. You say that boy I killed was some "brother" of mine. Well, how many does that make" Go find some of your other goddamn children, tell one of them they're special, and maybe he'll worship your heels. But I'm done." Maetron looks over to Nazareth, and Nazareth's face was open with shock. "What has this place done to him?" Nazareth shakes her head hesitantly. Maetron turns back to her son. "Valcroix," and she extends her hand towards him. "...what? Oh my....Oh my." Her tangerine eyes glass. She veils her mouth with wrist and softly sobs.

The girl had felt ultimately out of place here....She looked on between the two. Nazareth was given a harder stare, just because something was off with her. She'd seemed...tame. When Valcroix yanked his hand away, she lowered her eyes and brought it up to her chest. Her heart was racing, her head was spinning. Not now, Phoenix....The girl could feel the hellion itching to come out and play with the new add-on, play again with Nazareth...She'd owed the insane woman more than her share of fun. Oh, how she wanted to fulfill it.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-04 01:08 EST

"Nazareth. Wait by the door, I'll be along in one minute." Her daughter nods quickly, then hurriedly skips to the door, per her mother's orders. Maetron lowers her head, ties her fingers together and is still and sharp gold and white hairs swing down and cut across her face. Silence, motionlessness, breathlessness. Val kept his eyes on Nazareth as she crossed the room on her way to the door. Things mixed in him, a great pallet of conflicting emotions. Was he relieved to see his sister go—yeah' Does the thought of seeing her face for the last time comfort him' Well, there's the conflict. When Val turned his eyes back, Maetron was there, still as stone and expectant. "Mother..." Maetron raised a single finger. "Enough, Val." She squints at her son. "I will not hear any more of this. You are coming with me. I do not care about this fallacy you're wrapped up in. This woman, this child. They water your blood, boy." Val stepped forward defiantly. "What' How can you be like this?" Val holds a fury on him, narrows his eyes across the woman, then points to the door. "Go. Take that sick daughter of yours, and go back to the bone and sand. That place isn't me. So go."

Those wide violets trailed between each person in the room. It wouldn't be long until they found their place to her feet. She bit into her lip and shook her head. "He's n-not going anywhere....W-we n-need him..." The girl whispered softly. "He b-belongs here.." The timid whispers left her lips, sweet as honey and quiet as ever. "P-please leave..."

Finally, long since broken free from Maetron's hypnotism, Val recognizes Martyr, smiles to his young fiance, and firmly nods. "She said it," Val smiles. "I have a responsibility to them, Mother. I have a daughter for god's sake. You know I can't leave. You know I won't. So say what you have to say. do what you have to do, then begone. It's not happening." The man's bones rattle. A fever; static in his gills and a wiggling eye. Something hot climbs up him. Maetron nods following Val's words. "I see. A responsibility to this new family—-not to the people of your home," said factually, not abrasively. Her eyes enlarge a moment, then again she nods. "So be it." She takes a single step towards the door and draws back her hair by turning her palm across it. The air around her body ripples like heat in the distance. Maetron flashes to the left and fires her hand at Val's chest. The man can not match this speed. Her fingers pierce his chest and a white, flame like aura ripples from her arm. "I'm sorry, my handsome boy," she says with her eyes locked in his. "but if I can't have you, then no one can."

Giant eyes caught Val's revolving crimsons, the smile warms her to the bones. It's contageous and horrifyingly short-lived, because as Maetron whips through the room, her thinned out warm eyes widened with shock and terror. Martyr screamed, she shrieked. "Stop it!" The girl yelped, and stumbled forward in an attempt to break the two apart.

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-04 01:19 EST

If Martyr's hands were to approach Maetron's, she would feel furious heat. And the scoring waves of rippling white would rise heartily, cracking and razing the air around it. Bands of the woman's hair begin to lift off her head mysteriously, caught in some unseen wind. Her eyes snap to Martyr. "Leave." Her head slowly indicates the door. "I have no qualm with you. Take your little life and go away from here. This is a gift; do not squander it." The minute Maetron's hand punctured his chest, Val reacted by grabbing the woman's wrist. His face is not strained, neither pained nor shocked. He was blank and exhaustive, his eyes narrowing sleepily, then soon closed. Limply, his fingers slide off of Maetron's wrist and his body is held on up by her hand alone.

The girl withdrew her hand quickly, and looked on with fear. Martyr's eyes were stretched, her eyes were occupied by dark circles beneath them. "N-no....I d-don't want any g-gift from y-you!" The girl yelped and looked to Val as his eyes became sleepy and his body collapsed to the unsaving grace of his mother's hand. "...V-val! N-no! Stop it, p-please stop it!"

The Aura around Maetron's arm becomes black, thick and swarming like flames of oil. They boast and riot for one last moment before she rips her hand out of her son's chest. And the lanky man folds like a rug on the smooth, hard wood. He silent and above, Maetron looms over and takes him in with very small orange eyes that glimmer like little evening suns. She sighs and wipes the blood on her fingers onto her fine, white cloak. She lifts her eyes to Martyr. "Feed him all the blood you like. It will do you no good." Maetron steps away and files neatly towards the exit. "Open the door, Nazareth." Maetron would find her daughter huddled in the corner of the wall, both hands lifted and masking her mouth. "Did you—-Did.." "Enough. You wanted to go, so we'll go." Nazareth could not keep her eyes off of her cold and still brother. "Oh dear. You have finally broken." Maetron smiles and pokes Nazareth's cheek. "I'll leave you be, then. I can no longer stay." She opens the door and steps into the hall. "So cold, here," her voice smalling down the hall. "How can they stand it..."

The girl collapsed down next to him, her hands were shaking as she lifted them to his chest. "V-val....N-no, V-val....B-baby..." The girl whispered softly, her eyes were a silvery blue and her hands were glowing the same sort of aura. She pressed her hands to the wound, a new light in her eyes as they healed up nicely. It didn't even bother her to have the same holes rip open her chest, tears were falling from the twin wells that she'd call eyes. There was a smile present on her features, until he did not gasp for air....Until his heartbeat didn't vibrate her fingers....Until his eyes didn't open...."V-val..."! VAL"!" She pressed her ear to his chest and heard nothing. Tears spilled out as she lifted up and stared to the door, through Nazareth. "HOW C-CAN YOU C-CALL YOURSELF A M-MOTHER?!"

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-04 02:04 EST

Maetron was near the halls end when Martyr's small voice finds anomalous power amidst the tragedy on her shoulders. Maetron does not stir, her body diminishing down the hall. She is casual in her escape, is slow like running honey and is soon nothing but a white line descending the stairs.

Nazareth had not moved, but when Martyr's sharp voice skewered her, Nazareth's lean shoulders lifted in shock. Her large red eyes ran into Martyr, but a new innocence, a strange adolescence had become upon her. "She...she..."

There was a fire in her eyes. "W-what"! What d-did she d-do to him"!" The girl shook the man lightly, but earned herself no response. She bit into her lip and whimpered, sobbed through the tightened expression. "...Fix it.....FIX IT!"

"I....Oh..." Her hands had fallen down before she spoke, and again they raise fiercely. Nazareth steps with trepidation, like on sheets of glass, and joins Martyr at her brother's side. She trembles onto her knees and runs her cold hand across his colder forehead. "Her arm." She looks at Martyr with trembling, erratic pupils. "I...think I saw her do it once before. She...cut off his soul from his body. That's the best way I can describe it."

Martyr was fearless, stricken with an insanity that was more familiar to Phoenix. Her hand moved to strike away Nazareth's from the cool forehead of her supposed-to-be husband. "D-don't touch him!" The immortal yelped out and tried to scoop the man up. "H-how....How d-do I f-fix it"! Is he..." Is he..!?"

Nazareth pulls in the hand that Martyr had slapped and ties it with her other. She kneads her fingers anxiously. "I...I don't know!" With tears of her own, she locks eyes with Martyr and vigorously shakes her head. "She....she did it as punishment. To brides....Mortals. Val is mortal, but he's Dominion. So I don't know. I don't know! I don't know what to do..."

Those eyes, they were of the purest purple essence, but they may as well have been red all over again. "You....You b-brought her here....Y-you led her....Y-you knew..." The words were silent and empty, insane rambles as she rocked slightly over his body. "...G-get out..."

Nazareth's eyes widen; as if this wounded her, as if her brother was her best friend, as if she herself had not made attempts on his life on several occasions. These, in such the sullied mind, were trivial notions. At this moment, she appeared the wracked and deprived woman who was sitting atop a sibling whom she loved. And maybe this was not so far from the truth. Nazareth stands and brushes off her knees. "Martyr...I....I want to help," she cried earnestly. "Please! No one knows him better than me! I might be able to help!"

The girl stood to her feet, no, she shot to them. Her knees crackled in protest, and she bit into her lip as if to bite back the rage. Her hand would glide across Nazareth's face, and it would not be gentle. "How d-dare you! How d-damn d-d-dare you?!"

Her head whips to the side as Martyr's hand taught it force. And she stills this pose, straight with her face turned away. Her sobs strengthen, big and forceful and rupturing her belly with every crest. "Val," she sobs. She stares down at the man and again falls down to her knees. Huge, dead eyes blare over him, flowing heavily with shiny streams of tears that were quickly dampening her sweater. She mouths, "I'm sorry". "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry," then finally screams, "I'm sorry!"

"You h-hated him! You hated us! This is w-what you wanted!" Martyr screamed with wide eyes, and even though she stuttered, it didn't diminish the raise. "...Say it! Say it!!" The girl's fists moved to pound weakly over Nazareth's shoulders, and if allowed she'd be beating the girl's torso without much force. "D-do your happy little d-dance! J-just d-do it!" Give me a reason...

Martyr · Date: 2013-07-04 02:37 EST

Nazareth would not move. Martyr's fists run into her body and her body quakes and wiggles like a toy under child's pounding. She not only did not understand Martyr's request, but she was hardly conscious of her words. After the jostling, Nazareth looked back up quizzically, her face bright from crying and the flesh below her eyes was red and purple. She did not know what to say, so she said nothing.

That frustrated the immortal all the more, and she fell away from the woman and collapsed next to Valcroix. She laid on his chest, her head resting there, her eyes wide as ever. She listened for a heartbeat, begging for one to come....Nothing, nothing, nothing....It was all settling in now. Just like before, but this time, she'd witnessed his heart stopping, she'd been there and was unable to do a thing...."V-val..." Never again would she taste his charred breath, never again would she nag those cobwebs of tobacco smoke that trailed from his lips, never again would she smell the brandy on his breath and secretly want some....Not again, would she feel his fingers running through her hair in the morning, his polite way of telling her to get the hell out of bed.....His voice wouldn't ring out to her, when she stumbled onto the floor....Then she thought of Max, and she sobbed.