[PRP] Language we can speak (Aisa + Eisheth)

[santime]

I've been goin' crazy while you sleep.
Thinkin' of a language that the two of us can speak

Arctic Monkeys
xp

Eisheth was sitting near a small fire in the outskirts of the Lost Clan reservation occasionally spreading her arms around the flames, as if she was caressing them: the alchemist was trying to warm her bones. Apart from many new concepts, words, ways of life she encountered after being thrown into this new realm, there was something more physical to get used to: it was considerably colder than the hot, arid climate of Famine. And that made her sick. How silly was she, Eisheth realized now, sometimes cursing Famine weather for being THAT hot. The alchemist shrugged.

The best way to forget about the cold weather was to dive into her thoughts: all her life Eisheth was sort of erasing her own identity, her individuality to fit the Famine society better. A perfect society in her opinion required a mind of a Hive, and strong individuality would only cause troubles when you're on duty. Eisheth pretty much succeeded in this: she never discussed or thought over any orders, and she was always suppressing the will of her own. And now... loosing the system she was a part of, Eisheth found herself face to face with her long forgotten self, with her personality she was suppressing all that time, and was lost. It was like meeting an old friend or a relative you hadn't seen for ages: first, you're excited, but the very moment you face each other, you understand you have no idea what to say, and where to begin. Eisheth was trying to remember herself: what part of her desires, her wishes, her needs was actually her, and what was Famine? And was it even possible to divide herself into Herself and Her Clan? She felt she was torn apart.

Eisheth was gazing at the flames trying to figure the pattern in their endless dance.

"The first one... the most powerful. Goes after the third, who is attractive. Then the second comes. It brings disaster to everyone. Let the stars rejoice in peace".

It made perfect nonsense.

Random Artist

Let the absurd begin blaugh

 

[revenant aria]

Tonight had been another night of work, of gathering, of recreating.

Aisa's hands dipped below her hair, behind her neck, to lift the coal-black pigtails from their her perspiring back, black locks slipping through her fingers. The land was still somewhat small, leaving the horsemen in nearby proximity. Aisa felt no special need for privacy yet and mulled around the area.

Shadows danced in front of her, from the nearby famine member, her fire casting shadows in the night of Halloween.  

[santime]

Eisheth felt something disturbing, the imbalance in Fear around her, as if something was affecting her and the surroundings. Someone's presence dragging her out of her thoughts. She raised her head, feeling lightheaded, almost half-awaken, only to notice the silhouette of certain familiarity: Aisa, the Heir to Death, and one of the protectors.

Her instincts, well trained to react on higher authority's presence, made her get up before she could think about it: the truth was cruel, she has so many things to ask of Aisa, it left her nearly absent minded.

"Good evening, my lady!" Oh crap that sounded so stupid.

"Do you, too, feel the air is screaming in the dead of night, and silence is forming some nice patterns?" Hm, probably the previous line was smart, after all.

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[revenant aria]

Aisa tipped her head back, at an odd angle to glance at the incoming clan member. If it had been a student, the possibility of Aisa glancing back or stopping wasn't very likely. A clan member could earn a moment of attention .. but rarely, little more. Talk about the weather was not the line to capture Aisa.

But that was only if it could be the way it once was. Now, she realized, she would have to make a distinct and tiresome effort, to break the bonds of exclusion.

"..."

" .. I do not hear what you want to hear."

santime

 

[santime]

Eisheth felt a bit lost.

For a moment she wondered, if that was ok to approach and stop the Heir, ohm, the Protector: Aisa had probably enough things to do. But.. but the Protectors were there to help, right? Meaning, different ways of help. Also, Aisa was the Heir to Death, and that was may be the best person for an alchemist to speak herself out.

"I.. mmm... I beg for your mercy, my lady, but.. I think I need help. I do not think I want to hear anything. But I do hear. Voices, little details, images from the past; I hear air torrents and grass sprouting. Is it the same for you?.. Ot there is something else, you want to hear, judging from the way you worded it? It's not the insanity, but.. that drives me insane literally". The alchemist sighed.

"I heard about Death.. guidance. How does it work? Might it work for me, even if I am Famine, and I've never had such beliefs as your people?

I.. never needed any beliefs, in the first place, except I believed in my clan, and my Queen, and her orders. But... it's weird to explain, but I feel that I have so many questions and no answers, and... I might need some guidance, in the literal sense. Pardon me for that, my lady, but I don't think anyone else can understand this... and I wouldn't like to share it with anyone else. But you... something tells me you can understand."

Eisheth did realize it all sounds crazy, but she had no better way to express her feelings. She never was a specialist in this.

Random Artist

 

[revenant aria]

"Why not close your ears? Why not just eradicate the source if it's so unpleasant on the ears?" Aisa remarked breezily, the casualness regarding concerns that Aisa had a lifetime ago. Being lost, hearing things .. Those plagued with the insanity would hear far worse. But Aisa could admit that one's tolerance of being driven "insane" over such matters widened through time. A clan member, facing the beginning stages, would be overwhelmed.

Although Aisa was distinctly underwhelmed.

Perhaps, the busy lifeforms in Amityville had a much more dramatic effect than the quiet skittering lifeforms of Famine.

However, she didn't think she was going to be any more helpful than she was to the Amityville student who sought her advice a while back. However, in respect to Medea, Aisa reluctantly must. She sighed, a deep sight, before forming a response.

"You are wrong. Many others do understand. What is the rest of the lost clan, if not lost members with their faith shattered? Our culture is gone, along with our previous beliefs. Broken .. Broken into little unrepairable bits."

Aisa shook her head, in a mixed gesture of disappointment and rejection.

"Why? Why do you not go to your current heir? Cymbeline? Tell me, what do you need me for?" Aisa laid a hand to her bosom, indicating herself. "I, I who have not lost my sir Death. I, whose belief has not been shattered. You, who have lost all. What guidance, what answers do you seek?"

Aisa might simply give her one out of convenience.

 

[santime]

"That's why... because you had beliefs, and your way is as straight as it was, because you hadn't lost Medea, and your Sir. You carry on. That's why I seek your... word.

You studied a lot as a Heir.. tell me, tell me why our ancestors separated themselves from the Halloween, if they are our.. relatives? What was different about our kin in the beginning? What made us "us"? What are we?"

Eisheth couldn't help feeling she and Aisa were speaking in different languages. Protector's words were clear, and understandable, yet the alchemist could not realize their meaning, and if something spoiled them. As if she was hearing them from a vast distance.

"I.. it's not what I expected. I expected to start a new life, to keep the memory, the tradition, to fulfill the plans and the orders of my clan, my Queen. I am my clan, and my clan is me, and the fact there's no Famine anymore should not have affected me that deeply, because I carry it all in my mind, in my heart. But.. I need to learn more. I need to go beyond. And.. I'm not certain, my lady. I don't know... not anymore. I never had a will of my own, and discovering it is what tortures me.

You're right, I should ask Cymbeline, but you have very different views, and very different beliefs, and your judgement would be objective. Tell me... you don't think our purpose, the Apocalypse, was right idea from the beginning? It's our identity, our nature, what made us different from, say, Halloween denizens, but.. what if it was a mistake? I hate the guts out of humans with my every breath, but.. if we didn't want to bring the end to their world... they wouldn't bring the end to that world of ours.

I am afraid of rage.. in myself".

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[revenant aria]

If Aisa's words couldn't reach Eisheth, it was a similar sensation for Aisa. Everything Eisheth said, although the clan member uttered only a heavy solemnness in her sincerity .. it was only hilarious to Aisa, in her delicious uncertainty. Her hope, her misunderstood views. It tickled the insanity in her, a husky voice laughing along with Aisa in her head, remnants of what would always be left in her sphere that had once been a mind.

"Do relatives always agree? Do they not .. argue? In endless little spats that buzz around until there is nothing mutual left. It all crumbled, when they stepped on it. Does it matter who kicked the bucket first?"

Aisa walked forward at this point, throwing back her head, the grin pulling up the corners of her mouth with an unnatural mirth. Aisa's hand brushed against Eisheth's bare skin, her cheek, her touch icy. It was when Aisa's voice became soft, like so, with a slicing edge .. "You call my meandering path .. straight? Objective? You're struggle with loss, uncertainty .. and rage?"

Aisa's fingers left Eisheth's skin like it burned.

"That's the only emotions I hold close to my heart. I am none of what you want to call me. What's wrong with such delicious emotions? Why not kill until there is nothing left?" Aisa chuckled, her hand stroking a sharp edge with a caressing gentleness. Her words were punctuated, emphasized, with all the emotions that Eisheth was not looking for.

The apocalypse was a promise to the human world. However, that was only when Sir Death decreed it.

"Cym, Eris, Connie and I are not very different as you think."

The conversation was very nearly over. Doubts could only be amusing for so long.

santime

 

[santime]

So that was it.

Why not kill until there is nothing left? That was the answer. Why did she feel the need to struggle, to repel those emotions, if they were hers? For a moment of her life, for a first moment, she felt something, and that were her own feelings, her own reflection, the result of her very own experience refined by her very own identity. Her mind was still clutching at her Clan, her Queen, her past was persuading her to seek for orders and advises, for somebody else to decide. While that wasn't exactly the point. She has a will of her own now, and she has the desires of her, and she has emotions: rage, wrath, anger; loss, uncertainty. No, there's nothing wrong with these emotions. She's not going to repel them anymore. She would be proud of them, and she would hold them dear to her.

"Thank you, my Lady. Your words are... sedating", - that wasn't exactly the word, though. "I'm grateful, I met you here now".

Suddenly, from somewhere deep in her mind the counter-voice appeared, calm and denying: "I have one question, my Lady... did you always think this way? was it ever... different?"

The alchemist was quite surprised with what she just said herself.

Random Artist

Aisa is SOOO AMAZING!!!! Plz, just lemme know, if you think she's bored, and you'd like to finish. Looks like we both did 800 words already, but Eisheth can speak with her all the night, since it's just awesome smile

 

[revenant aria]

"Now that is a interesting question for us indeed."

Her chuckles rang into the distance.

"Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt?"

(Where are those who were before us?)

santime

UMM IT SEEMS GOOD TO END IT HERE~