[It has been long enough that Seviilia can hardly remember the Station, though she'd never been permitted to forget the distance from the brood she'd been chained to. She imagined it was much the same for all those who had managed to survive, and those who had wandered to the ends of the multiverse in search of their homelands.
She had not gone in search of Azeroth, when the nest had begun to wither. There was nothing left for her there, save for anger and an immortal existence that would give nothing back. The Ebon Blade would certainly not miss her presence. Traveling with The Darkling had been an easy decision, even without the symbiote's encouragement to stay near to those born from the same nest.
And so they were two immortal beings, attempting to break free of the hivemind that kept trying to pull them back. Distance was the only answer -- even if it meant confining themselves to a ship for weeks on end, until the next resupply station came along their path. The next stop was, fortunately, a familiar one to at least one of them: Concordia, the planet of synthetics.
Traveling toward the back of the ship, she can feel Aleksander before she sees him as always -- and she stops in the doorway of the singular room they'd been forced to occupy during their travels. It was never a problem, of course -- if they ever had gotten sick of one another, Seviilia was not one to need sleep. But they had some time yet before they grew weary of one another's presence, she imagined.]
I'm afraid I will need to follow your lead to refuel, this time.
[It is clear when she says it that she is not entirely happy to admit her shortcoming here. the way her claws carefully wrapped around the doorframe to squeeze -- but not doing so would not give either of them anything. So: honesty.]
I only have memories from the rest of what the Nest experienced here. I woke up after you had all returned. A planet inhabited by half-synthetic beings, if I recall.
[ like seviilia, he does not go in search of ravka. not just yet, not with the tethers that bind him into the service of a hive greater than he, and certainly not without new power to show for his unwilling induction among their ranks. instead, he travels far, takes with him one of the only other souls that faces the darkness of the universe and finds it reflected as equally within herself as he does within his own heart.
the distance helps, if only in increments. the call of the hive is plaintive, and he had subsumed his own mind deeply within it -- a calculated risk he could never know the outcome of -- if only to wrest power from it in the long run. their ship is a small thing, ill-suited for a woman of seviilia's size and strength, and he folds into corners at times: to bait her appetites and to grant her what meager space they have, at times.
in the back room they share, he dips the edge of a cloth into the shallow basin periodically filled with water he melts from her ice powers. it's lukewarm, enough that he can draw the damp cloth over his face and along his jaw, wiping away invisible grime and the quiet confines of their ship. he draws it over the back of his neck, hearing the sound of her tread and the click of her claws against the doorframe, turning his pale gaze on her. concordia awaits, and he's not lost his vanity yet. ]
I won a tournament there.
[ put mildly, though the memory is heavy with another's grief and wrath. ]
They pride themselves on seamless integration. Cybernetics and flesh, physical life and digital life. It was a very new place to find myself assigned to, when I first awoke. What would you like to know?
[ he holds his hand up, bare without his gloves. the symbolism of the gesture is still striking, for the immortal him, as he offers his touch to her. deigns to grant it, if she'd rather trade in memory than word. ]
[Pupiless eyes drop to the bare hand that is offered. It is a tempting gesture, to submit to it -- in truth, the sharing was always easier, when her mind was such an easy thing to mould so willingly. Understanding was possible in ways she might have never known, and yet each indulgence brought her ever-closer to the point of no return.
Submissive thing she might have been, she still craved her sense of choice in the matter in some small way. In a way she could not quite put to words. Accepting the Darkling was not the problem, but entrenching into the Hive as she was ever tempted towards.]
How it is that we might hope to hide there. Your's is a memorable face ... and my own is hard to miss.
[A light smirk graces her expression. The memories would be better, for this. She would likely need to Take from one of the natives just to have a prayer of blending in without the cybernetics.
Carefully, she rolls up her sleeve, revealing the glowing runes hidden beneath it. Black fingers would curl, seeking out his forearm to share contact with.]
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i'm here to misbehave and bring back station72 things
She had not gone in search of Azeroth, when the nest had begun to wither. There was nothing left for her there, save for anger and an immortal existence that would give nothing back. The Ebon Blade would certainly not miss her presence. Traveling with The Darkling had been an easy decision, even without the symbiote's encouragement to stay near to those born from the same nest.
And so they were two immortal beings, attempting to break free of the hivemind that kept trying to pull them back. Distance was the only answer -- even if it meant confining themselves to a ship for weeks on end, until the next resupply station came along their path. The next stop was, fortunately, a familiar one to at least one of them: Concordia, the planet of synthetics.
Traveling toward the back of the ship, she can feel Aleksander before she sees him as always -- and she stops in the doorway of the singular room they'd been forced to occupy during their travels. It was never a problem, of course -- if they ever had gotten sick of one another, Seviilia was not one to need sleep. But they had some time yet before they grew weary of one another's presence, she imagined.]
I'm afraid I will need to follow your lead to refuel, this time.
[It is clear when she says it that she is not entirely happy to admit her shortcoming here. the way her claws carefully wrapped around the doorframe to squeeze -- but not doing so would not give either of them anything. So: honesty.]
I only have memories from the rest of what the Nest experienced here. I woke up after you had all returned. A planet inhabited by half-synthetic beings, if I recall.
hello dead elfwife,,,,
the distance helps, if only in increments. the call of the hive is plaintive, and he had subsumed his own mind deeply within it -- a calculated risk he could never know the outcome of -- if only to wrest power from it in the long run. their ship is a small thing, ill-suited for a woman of seviilia's size and strength, and he folds into corners at times: to bait her appetites and to grant her what meager space they have, at times.
in the back room they share, he dips the edge of a cloth into the shallow basin periodically filled with water he melts from her ice powers. it's lukewarm, enough that he can draw the damp cloth over his face and along his jaw, wiping away invisible grime and the quiet confines of their ship. he draws it over the back of his neck, hearing the sound of her tread and the click of her claws against the doorframe, turning his pale gaze on her. concordia awaits, and he's not lost his vanity yet. ]
I won a tournament there.
[ put mildly, though the memory is heavy with another's grief and wrath. ]
They pride themselves on seamless integration. Cybernetics and flesh, physical life and digital life. It was a very new place to find myself assigned to, when I first awoke. What would you like to know?
[ he holds his hand up, bare without his gloves. the symbolism of the gesture is still striking, for the immortal him, as he offers his touch to her. deigns to grant it, if she'd rather trade in memory than word. ]
daddy 👁👄👁
Submissive thing she might have been, she still craved her sense of choice in the matter in some small way. In a way she could not quite put to words. Accepting the Darkling was not the problem, but entrenching into the Hive as she was ever tempted towards.]
How it is that we might hope to hide there. Your's is a memorable face ... and my own is hard to miss.
[A light smirk graces her expression. The memories would be better, for this. She would likely need to Take from one of the natives just to have a prayer of blending in without the cybernetics.
Carefully, she rolls up her sleeve, revealing the glowing runes hidden beneath it. Black fingers would curl, seeking out his forearm to share contact with.]