[ She's definitely a different picture from Mila now — hair tied up in a ponytail, no makeup, a plain t-shirt and shorts she can easily discard whenever it's time to go in the water. Cellar's the picture of defensiveness, walls up through her crossed arms and the tension in her mouth, her eyebrows, approaching a familiar figure with a sullen glance. Her attention turns to the lake soon after, shifting into a full-on, bitter glare.
Months ago, when they were here for Iggy, Cellar was upset. Sad that her friend was gone, determined to get him back and set things right. This is different. She's still upset and just as determined, but she's angry, too. ]
[That's his answer over "nothing", which was next on his tongue. But when people decide to barter with death, he lets them. He knows what he can provide for her - yet maybe he's just a bit surprised she isn't determined to do this solely on her own. Nobody else is here to help her, which makes him wonder if anyone else at all cares about Saber enough to do this. Do they even know his fate?]
[Said deadpan, even though if she were to look at Sully he'd have a twist of humor about it - Saber clearly wouldn't love the knowledge of who Liv truly is, would he? Sully exhales a short breath, and lights up a cigarette; he'll do as she asks, memory of another death still fresh in his mind - making him a little bit hungry.]
[ A brief roll of her eyes with a silent figures. And then a face at the father figure part. ]
Well, they got the possessive part right. He thinks he owns everything. I don't think I've ever seen him be nice to anyone unless he wanted to fuck them. I don't think I've met anyone who liked him, even back home.
[ Surely there's someone out there — maybe even in this stupid mansion — but she hasn't run into them long enough to find out. ]
He was still annoying last month, but. It was different, I guess. [ One finger rubbing on the opposite forearm, some sort of nervous or self-soothing gesture. ] Thought some of the good parts would carry over. It just made him even worse.
[ It's building up. ]
Raíz brings us back when we die too. She'll punish you if you kill yourself on purpose, though. [ A sharp, unkind sigh. ] Which is what she's gonna do to him now, even though I told him not to stop. He's such an asshole.
You don't expect any leniency, considering the manor's influence?
[This wasn't so cut and dry - even Sullivan feels the effects of a force that shouldn't be there, playing them all like puppets. His expression is briefly dark, eyes turned away, still feeling a cold sense of fury inside him at being trapped and held down by falsehoods. But he focuses on what she says, turning back to her with the next puff of his smoke.]
You sound as if you want to dislike him, but you can't. Even if he's who he is, a part of you likes him. Or feels responsible for him, at least. Is that true?
[ Great Dane would never even consider that as a possibility. He's instilled into Cellar pretty damn well that Raíz is capable of knowing anything all the time, even when she is nowhere to be seen.
She finally looks at him, a dissatisfied stare at being called out. Then it's back to glaring at the peaceful waters. ]
I'm tired of liking him. It was easier back home. He wasn't causing problems all the time. He wasn't threatening and hurting my friends. My husband.
[ There were more people around to keep him in check; it was easier to get away from him when he got to be Too Much, and she didn't have the same stakes she has here, is what she's saying. The will-she-won't-she game she'd been playing back home finally backfired when they both ended up here, and after June and this, she's finally facing the consequences. Tragique. ]
Even if I don't deserve better, they do. This is the last time I'm helping him.
[He wonders if she will stick to that - after all, once Saber comes back into the body that roams around, he'll still be afflicted with something. Sullivan's still tied up in Zephir's monthly trouble, caught between doting on him and being furious that something beyond their control continues to play them. (They're the ones that made everything. Make everything.)]
[ Cellar does a little double-take, as if Sully had been speaking and caught her attention wandering elsewhere. She forgot what was said for a moment — what she really said, without quite realizing the full weight of her words. Now Cellar finds herself struggling to justify it.
Even if she came up with reasons to disprove herself, though, wouldn't people just turn around and say she brought this on? Her voice is smaller. ]
I don't know, just. I'm not the good person they think I am.
[ And god, doesn't Saber just do a stellar job of reminding her of that. Even now. ]
And only good people are deserving of good things?
[A sentence that some would immediately agree with - but he sees the other side to. He looks at her again, something sharp in the way his eyes skim her over. She is weighing herself with some level of guilt, some level of dislike.]
Life isn't black and white. I think you know that.
[ So many of her favorite people have done horrible things, be it because they were forced to or for nothing less than enjoyment. Hell, the person they're here for was someone she still wanted to do something nice for. This little quest is one more, but she's also determined to make it the last. ]
Just — [ A new door is opening, and now she has to decide if she's actually going to let Sully see what's inside. ] With everything that happened last month, and getting to see another me like that, without all the shit I've done…
[ Fuck. ]
I wonder if the girl I was before I met Raíz would hate who I am now.
The girl you were and the woman you are will never meet, at least outside of your own head, so it's pointless to dream of what-ofs and what-ifs.
[How does he tell her that creatures he's made aren't meant to doubt themselves?]
Would the you of before been strong enough to put herself out for Saber? Would she have ever met her witch husband, or redheaded best friend if she'd never let herself grow? Or would she be in her room, alone, wondering if the woman she could've become would hate her for what she stayed as?
[ Way to put things into perspective, she supposes. Cellar's silence is as relaxed as a stone statue, staring off at the water to avoid showing Sully any emotion. Never mind that she laid it all out for him already. Crossed arms tighten around her stomach, then she shakes her head and starts stripping. ]
I've got enough hatred.
[ So let her focus it on the man whose life she's bringing back. Down to a swimsuit, ]
[He doesn't ask for anything in return, though he could. Maybe he will later - by leaving it vague, he's leaving it vague. Sullivan's eyes return to the water, and the call from down below. Everything in this area reeks of death. Not strongly, but just enough to stir his interest.]
[ It's easier if she's quiet for now long. She's got enough hatred and she's got enough emotions exposed out here. Cellar makes her way into the water, getting used to the temperature licking at her skin, swimming around the surface for a moment before she turns around to look at Sully, brows drawn with apprehension or the need to tell him something or - whatever. Cellar takes a deep breath and dives, swimming to the bottom of the lake. Her search begins, using her shadows to help. ]
[Sullivan remains a presence on land, though the deeper she goes and the longer she stays beneath the water it feels as if he's lingering there too. The more she pushes herself, the more he 'keeps her spotted', the more he feels like he's there somehow. He is the hint of death, the threat of it, the burn to the breath held in her lungs.
Like a shadow darker than any she's ever known, he lingers. Waiting to pluck her back should she need it.]
[ She does push herself too far, chest starting to hurt, throat sore when she comes up to compensate with deep breaths. The struggle becomes increasingly obvious, growing along with her frustration at not finding the stone yet. It's getting to the point where she needs a break and won't admit it. She's bound to make a stupid decision soon, underwater again, seeing a rock with a name at last. She doesn't confirm which it is; she swims toward it, tired and dizzy, about to be too weak to reach or to have time to come up one more time. Her vision blurs, then goes dark. ]
[Right as that darkness comes for her, there's a sound - somewhere in her head, the shell of her ear. It's inhuman, coarse and rough, so completely Sullivan despite sounding nothing like his normal tone. It doesn't speak in words within her comprehension but it says something before death wraps all around her. Licks at her skin with the temptation of taking her as his own before...
When she wakes she will be on the grass next to the water, still wet but not dripping so. There's a rock in her palm - her fingers delicately wrapped around it, sitting on her chest. Sullivan sits on a log a little farther back, shape shifting - fluctuating between known forms and something else, something ravenous and bitten back. When the form stabilizes it's feminine, teeth sunk into the flesh of her own hand, the webbing between thumb and pointer finger. Self-soothing by sucking the black blood away, up until the point Cellar seems conscious again.
[ The first thing she feels is the headache. Then, she makes a face like she swallowed something horrible and bitter, or like her mouth is on fire, rolling on her side to cough up water and gasp for air, clutching the stone tight. Her chest hurts too, turns out. As does her nose and inner ears. It's a miserable state, and yet she immediately knows it was almost so much worse.
Whatever stupid thought she had down there, whatever nightmare licked and nearly lapped her up into Death's stomach… she knows why she's out here now. And is so relieved that she was right to trust her. Cellar can barely focus her eyes when she looks at Sully. ]
[Sullivan still nurses from her hand as Cellar sputters back to life, gnashing at tissue with no real relief. She drops her hand away when she stands, moving closer to Cellar, standing over her as she lays on her side and gets reacquainted with being conscious and alive. It'd still be so easy to snuff out her low burning wick. Sullivan's demeanor remains... off, but contained.]
[ One palm presses down on dirt and grass; Cellar pushes herself up until she's sitting, thankful that she's exposed to the elements in a swimsuit during summer. The one thing Saber got right in this whole stupid ordeal. Looking up — way up — Cellar watches the other woman and grimaces at the light and how uncomfortable she feels everywhere. Both in body and mind. ]
Did you know that would happen?
[ It isn't accusatory. She wonders if that's why Sully changed: to fit a doomed girl's expectations of Death. ]
[So yes, in a way, Sullivan did at least expect it. But for one or a handful of reasons, including the fact she likes Cellar, opted to give her what protection she could. Which also, of course, included dragging her ass back out. She remains standing there, staring down:]
[ Sounds about right. She's still dealing with the lingering pain in her chest, all the way up to her throat and nose, all of which feel weirdly dilated. Swallowing hurts, breathing puts a strain on her, but she's gradually going back to normal. Hopefully. ]
[For a fleeting moment there, Saber was a person she was entangled with. Those threads remain present, albeit tangled. Her hand no longer bleeds but the marks of her teeth remain dug in, like mottled old wounds on a corpse.]
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no subject
Months ago, when they were here for Iggy, Cellar was upset. Sad that her friend was gone, determined to get him back and set things right. This is different. She's still upset and just as determined, but she's angry, too. ]
What do you want in return this time?
no subject
[That's his answer over "nothing", which was next on his tongue. But when people decide to barter with death, he lets them. He knows what he can provide for her - yet maybe he's just a bit surprised she isn't determined to do this solely on her own. Nobody else is here to help her, which makes him wonder if anyone else at all cares about Saber enough to do this. Do they even know his fate?]
Tell me about him. From your eyes.
no subject
[ And there's a pause. If she'd been trying to hold something back now, it's starting to scratch at those walls to be let out. ]
Jesus. [ A scoff, looking away. ] Where do I even fucking begin. Do you remember anything about him, from last month?
no subject
[Said deadpan, even though if she were to look at Sully he'd have a twist of humor about it - Saber clearly wouldn't love the knowledge of who Liv truly is, would he? Sully exhales a short breath, and lights up a cigarette; he'll do as she asks, memory of another death still fresh in his mind - making him a little bit hungry.]
And your father figure.
no subject
Well, they got the possessive part right. He thinks he owns everything. I don't think I've ever seen him be nice to anyone unless he wanted to fuck them. I don't think I've met anyone who liked him, even back home.
[ Surely there's someone out there — maybe even in this stupid mansion — but she hasn't run into them long enough to find out. ]
He was still annoying last month, but. It was different, I guess. [ One finger rubbing on the opposite forearm, some sort of nervous or self-soothing gesture. ] Thought some of the good parts would carry over. It just made him even worse.
[ It's building up. ]
Raíz brings us back when we die too. She'll punish you if you kill yourself on purpose, though. [ A sharp, unkind sigh. ] Which is what she's gonna do to him now, even though I told him not to stop. He's such an asshole.
no subject
[This wasn't so cut and dry - even Sullivan feels the effects of a force that shouldn't be there, playing them all like puppets. His expression is briefly dark, eyes turned away, still feeling a cold sense of fury inside him at being trapped and held down by falsehoods. But he focuses on what she says, turning back to her with the next puff of his smoke.]
You sound as if you want to dislike him, but you can't. Even if he's who he is, a part of you likes him. Or feels responsible for him, at least. Is that true?
no subject
[ Great Dane would never even consider that as a possibility. He's instilled into Cellar pretty damn well that Raíz is capable of knowing anything all the time, even when she is nowhere to be seen.
She finally looks at him, a dissatisfied stare at being called out. Then it's back to glaring at the peaceful waters. ]
I'm tired of liking him. It was easier back home. He wasn't causing problems all the time. He wasn't threatening and hurting my friends. My husband.
[ There were more people around to keep him in check; it was easier to get away from him when he got to be Too Much, and she didn't have the same stakes she has here, is what she's saying. The will-she-won't-she game she'd been playing back home finally backfired when they both ended up here, and after June and this, she's finally facing the consequences. Tragique. ]
Even if I don't deserve better, they do. This is the last time I'm helping him.
no subject
[He wonders if she will stick to that - after all, once Saber comes back into the body that roams around, he'll still be afflicted with something. Sullivan's still tied up in Zephir's monthly trouble, caught between doting on him and being furious that something beyond their control continues to play them. (They're the ones that made everything. Make everything.)]
Why do you think you don't deserve better?
no subject
Even if she came up with reasons to disprove herself, though, wouldn't people just turn around and say she brought this on? Her voice is smaller. ]
I don't know, just. I'm not the good person they think I am.
[ And god, doesn't Saber just do a stellar job of reminding her of that. Even now. ]
no subject
[A sentence that some would immediately agree with - but he sees the other side to. He looks at her again, something sharp in the way his eyes skim her over. She is weighing herself with some level of guilt, some level of dislike.]
Life isn't black and white. I think you know that.
no subject
[ So many of her favorite people have done horrible things, be it because they were forced to or for nothing less than enjoyment. Hell, the person they're here for was someone she still wanted to do something nice for. This little quest is one more, but she's also determined to make it the last. ]
Just — [ A new door is opening, and now she has to decide if she's actually going to let Sully see what's inside. ] With everything that happened last month, and getting to see another me like that, without all the shit I've done…
[ Fuck. ]
I wonder if the girl I was before I met Raíz would hate who I am now.
no subject
[How does he tell her that creatures he's made aren't meant to doubt themselves?]
Would the you of before been strong enough to put herself out for Saber? Would she have ever met her witch husband, or redheaded best friend if she'd never let herself grow? Or would she be in her room, alone, wondering if the woman she could've become would hate her for what she stayed as?
no subject
I've got enough hatred.
[ So let her focus it on the man whose life she's bringing back. Down to a swimsuit, ]
Do the same as last time?
no subject
[He doesn't ask for anything in return, though he could. Maybe he will later - by leaving it vague, he's leaving it vague. Sullivan's eyes return to the water, and the call from down below. Everything in this area reeks of death. Not strongly, but just enough to stir his interest.]
I'll spot for you.
no subject
[ It's easier if she's quiet for now long. She's got enough hatred and she's got enough emotions exposed out here. Cellar makes her way into the water, getting used to the temperature licking at her skin, swimming around the surface for a moment before she turns around to look at Sully, brows drawn with apprehension or the need to tell him something or - whatever. Cellar takes a deep breath and dives, swimming to the bottom of the lake. Her search begins, using her shadows to help. ]
no subject
Like a shadow darker than any she's ever known, he lingers. Waiting to pluck her back should she need it.]
no subject
no subject
When she wakes she will be on the grass next to the water, still wet but not dripping so. There's a rock in her palm - her fingers delicately wrapped around it, sitting on her chest. Sullivan sits on a log a little farther back, shape shifting - fluctuating between known forms and something else, something ravenous and bitten back. When the form stabilizes it's feminine, teeth sunk into the flesh of her own hand, the webbing between thumb and pointer finger. Self-soothing by sucking the black blood away, up until the point Cellar seems conscious again.
Temptation was hard to fend off.]
You'll want to spit it out.
[That mouthful of water.]
no subject
Whatever stupid thought she had down there, whatever nightmare licked and nearly lapped her up into Death's stomach… she knows why she's out here now. And is so relieved that she was right to trust her. Cellar can barely focus her eyes when she looks at Sully. ]
Tha… thank you.
no subject
You were close.
[To the edge, the undoing, the unraveling.]
no subject
Did you know that would happen?
[ It isn't accusatory. She wonders if that's why Sully changed: to fit a doomed girl's expectations of Death. ]
no subject
[So yes, in a way, Sullivan did at least expect it. But for one or a handful of reasons, including the fact she likes Cellar, opted to give her what protection she could. Which also, of course, included dragging her ass back out. She remains standing there, staring down:]
You have work still to do. No rest for the weary.
🎀 soon
I know. Are you staying?
[ Or coming with me? ]
🎀ish
[For a fleeting moment there, Saber was a person she was entangled with. Those threads remain present, albeit tangled. Her hand no longer bleeds but the marks of her teeth remain dug in, like mottled old wounds on a corpse.]
After you.