[closed]

[featheradrift]

WHO: Wanderer (featheradrift) & Various
WHAT: November Catch-all for random threads!
WHERE: Anywhere and everywhere???
WHEN: All of November
WARNINGS: Marked in threads

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[featheradrift]

[ Once, as the hateful Balladeer, he had learned from Dottore ways to cause pain—to torture, for information (and honestly, for his own sadistic pleasure, for he had reveled in others' pain). Among the little things about human anatomy he'd learned, that one could instantly kill a person by cutting their brain stem was a fact he never thought he would make use of until now. But he's glad he knows it, because he does not want to cause Kaveh more pain than necessary.

There is blood, still. It pours down the architect's back and stains the puppet's white sleeves—a symbol of his deed, the sin he carries now. Kaveh does not breathe. It is only the shell that is left in his arms. And in that shell is the heart he must carve out to progress this ghastly fairy tale.

The puppet's eyes flicker to Alhaitham for a moment, a dull ache in his chest. There is nothing he can do for Alhaitham, save completing this task as quickly as possible to allow them to reunite, hale and healthy.

He holds Kaveh in an embrace for just a beat longer, and then gently lays him down, reverent in his actions. Using an unsoiled part of his sleeve, he closes Kaveh's eyes. Once more, just once more, he will have to cut that heart out and hold it in his hands.

It's almost disgusting how practiced he feels in this, pulling aside the architect's shirt and cutting into still warm flesh with the dagger. He knows exactly where he must cut to reveal the heart, and all the while, his hands soak in cooling blood. It pools underneath Kaveh, the only part of him that is in motion. He is far, far too still.

He cuts through sinew and breaks bone. Blood and viscera engulf his hands. He searches for arteries and veins and slices them, releasing the heart from its confines. It's in his hands again—warm, still. Proof of Kaveh's life, and his death. The puppet draws in a quivering breath—one, two, one, two—and then he presses it against his chest, drawing it into his body.

It starts with a jolt, and he can feel its fierce beat, so strong that it might leap right back out of his chest. He keeps his hands on his chest, curling in on himself as it threatens to tear him apart. But he's not done. There is one more thing he must do.

He can't hide the evidence of his actions. But he does what he can, concealing slices into skin with fabric, stained bright red, and stands up. Blood drips off his sleeves, deafening in the silence of the room. Quietly, he walks over to the other man who remains in the room, stands so that the Scribe won't have to see Kaveh to look at him, and calls out to him. ]

Alhaitham.

[justscribing]

[Alhaitham flinches only once. It's when Kaveh's body instinctively gasps to the knife cutting flesh. Alhaitham slowly drops to his knees. His hands rest upon them, fingers digging to offset their tremble, and he waits with breaths counted in fours.

The sound is gruesome. He's always been sensitive to them, sounds.

And so he doesn't open his eyes during it. He doesn't open his eyes at the end of it, or when Yuu approaches. He doesn't need to--he knows by the echo on the floorboards where he stops.

Alhaitham takes one deep breath. He lets it out slowly. Then his tilts his head back, baring his neck.] Go ahead.

[featheradrift]

[ The heart within his chest stutters as he beholds the man before him. Even now, separated from its owner, Kaveh's heart yearns for Alhaitham. It lurches, pounding in his ears as he kneels in front of Alhaitham, and reaches out to him like he did the architect. But the sight of red stops him. His hands are covered in Kaveh's blood. He can't possibly touch Alhaitham now.

But the script demands blood, and he must follow through for them all to escape. Slowly, he raises his hand again, reaching over the man's shoulder to place a steadying hand against his upper back. It's not quite an embrace, but it brings the two of them close all the same. With his other hand, he presses the dagger against Alhaitham's neck. It trembles, as does the next breath he draws.

There are no words this time. Alhaitham has not pierced into his very being like Kaveh has. His desire to spare the man pain is the same, but it is a luxury he cannot afford this time. There is nothing more the puppet can do to console him, and the heart in his chest squeezes painfully, both for the man before him and for the puppet that holds it.

Warmth draws trails down his face—tears, he realizes, as a sob threatens to tear out of his throat. No, not now. He swallows the emotions with a shuddering breath, but the tears do not stop. His sight blurs, but the dagger is already against Alhaitham's neck. He just needs to act.

One, two, three—he counts the beating of Kaveh's heart—four, five, six—and he pulls the dagger. ]

[justscribing]

[With his willful blindness, Alhaitham only has his other senses to rely on. The feeling of the knife trembling against his throat. Yuu's intake of breath to brace himself for this. It never quite stops shaking. Alhaitham, in turn, never starts loving beyond the slow and steady rise of his chest.

For a moment, he wonders if Yuu's resolve will crack enough for the knife to slide wrong. That he might cut along the wrong angle, and it will be more painful.

But the blade strikes true. Alhaitham breathes in a ragged gasp as the shock runs through his body. There is the instinctual panic of all animals that realize they're dying, and it seizes all of Alhaitham and leans him into Yuu. He barely resists bringing his hands to his throat. The blood is allowed to spill in a river down his front freely.

[featheradrift]

[ Red. Red, red, and more red. It cascades down Alhaitham, the precious liquid that gives humans life. The sight of it causes Kaveh's heart to swoop wildly, and he feels the stirring of panic in his stomach. Hastily, he presses his mouth against the wound as if to seal it with his lips, pulling Alhaitham even closer as he drops the dagger and steadies the man with an embrace.

The metallic taste of iron fills his mouth. The blood burns his throat as he swallows the fluid, searing in its heat. It is nauseating—the taste, the smell, the gasps of pain and the rapid fluttering of Alhaitham's pulse. He wants to throw up. He wants to cry. He's crying still, tears mixing with the blood to transform into the taste of pain and grief.

But he doesn't stop. He can't allow himself to stop, because it would prolong Alhaitham's suffering. So he drinks and drinks, draining Alhaitham of his life. ]

[justscribing]

[Yuu's mouth seals around the wound, and then there's the suck. Distantly, the similarity to a vampire occurs to Alhaitham. It's a thought that quickly drifts out into the sea of nothingness, unable to tether to his slowly dying brain.

He clenches his teeth. There's no comfort in any of this. What Alhaitham does do with the last of his focus is grip the back of Yuu's garment and shift in the embrace so that he's in a position that makes this as easy as possible even as he rapidly loses strength.

It feels slower than it is. He grows cold, and numb. It's a brief moment that Alhaitham's eyes flutter open, stare at the ceiling with the recognition of the end of it all, and then slip closed once more.

His hand slips next.

His heart stops next.

His chest stills next.

And then the weight of Alhaitham limps completely.]

[featheradrift]

[ His hand slips first, down the puppet's back. His pulse follows, sputtering weakly—badum, badum, badum————————————————————

Alhaitham draws one last, quiet breath, and then he's gone. The entirety of his weight settles onto the puppet, who pulls away from the man's neck and presses his face against Alhaitham's shoulder.

It's silent, at first. Then, there's a high pitched noise, keening—his sobs, finally wrested out of him and free to give form to his sorrow. He cries loudly, stuttered apologies falling from bloodied lips. He grips Alhaitham tightly, the only anchor keeping him from drowning in the wake of his emotions. He cries and cries, for minutes, for hours. He cries until Alhaitham's body cools, and all he is left with is nothing but a lifeless husk.

There's nothing here but him now. He is alone once more. So very, very alone. The puppet has become human—but at what cost?

When the storm dies down, he's left with emptiness. Numbness. Kaveh's heart beats steadily in his chest, but he feels no fuller than before. This heart, freely given to him, filled with love and kindness—it was the one thing he had craved for most. But, why, why, why did he still feel so empty?? He had not been satisfied with Niwa's heart. He had not been satisfied with the Electro Gnosis. He is not satisfied with this heart. Whose heart would fill the void in his chest, and seal away the emptiness that yawns wide in his chest?

He knows the answer already. He does not seek for a heart at all. It is not what he truly wants. It is not what he needs. It is the warmth he's received that seeps out of the cracks of his being and scatters into the sea of blood surrounding him, leaving him empty and hurting. It is love that he has always craved for.

He stands, pulling Alhaitham's body with him. He cradles the man gently, lays him next to Kaveh, and entwines their hands together. Alhaitham and Kaveh. Always together in life. They should be together in death too. ]

Was it worth it? [ He asks into the silence, to the puppet of the fairy tale. ] Was it really worth losing this?

[ Only the steady beating of Kaveh's heart and the metallic taste of Alhaitham's blood answers him as he closes his eyes and allows himself to be swept away.

(If this was what it took to become human, then he'd rather stay a puppet for eternity.) ]