Episode 6, Part 4
"Uncertainty"
The air is cold in the "Manor", as you've come to refer to it in the privacy of your own head.
Brushing your red hair aside you glance carefully at where your mistress almost
lounges in the entrance hall. Checking she's still there. Your heart hasn't felt like it's slowed at all since you first heard her scream, your chest remaining tight and painful. Shying away from that you return to making yourself some breakfast.
From the thin light coming from the open garden door you can tell the sun isn't even all the way up yet.
You're quietly thankful, again, that your need for sleep has been a bit odd since you met your mistress.
It has been a few hours since you were told that horrifying story. Worse than any of the stories your gran shared and she had a talent for freaking out all of your family, including your dad who had grown up with it from the cradle. You stifle these thoughts.
The food preparations are finished. You walk out of the kitchen slowly, holding it all carefully so you don't spill any.
As usual your gaze homes in on Latria immediately. Even standing completely motionless your mistress is elegant, her entire posture relaxed. Her mantle and robe trails down in a waterfall of black cloth, faded with age, the golden threads in fine patterns on the hems dull. The set of her arms is loose and her head is tilted slightly to one side, her hair done up in its complicated and decorated arrangement. You know, as you sometimes do because of your gift, that her eyes are closed. You can see the little tensing in her neck at your approach.
It bothers you.
Not the tensing. She always does that. But closing her eyes is another of the little
things which have been not right with her since…
You shake your head and take a seat at the table behind her, chair turned sideways so you can keep watching her. Ever since she said she would "rest", a concept which up to this point was totally disconnected from your image of her, things have been creeping up which are not like they should be. Though you are somewhat surprised you even notice them with everything
else going on.
I'm worried… that thought has been a constant refrain scratching at your skull in some way since you found her in the sewer after the Rat King came. And you've come to live with it, a little, so you eat quietly, watching her, tasting nothing.
No reaching for your gift though, now that you can
choose to do that. Eating doesn't mix well with it you've found, though before her you wouldn't have been able to care. You can control your curiosity at least that much.
Which brings you to everything that is messed up about your mistress.
There was her scream, obviously. She never did that before. She laughed, she spoke, she hummed. But she had no reason to scream. The things in that scream were in her story too.
You think it is terror, mostly.
Thinking of your mistress's terror calls back the sucking blackness in your head and crushes your chest till you can't breathe. You flee from it and shut it away, just like you did when you found her. Looking at your mistress again you see her right hands raised slightly towards you, just a little, though the rest of her remains unmoving.
She's never needed to do that before… you always knew when she was trying to reassure you before. Even when it was a lie.
And she hasn't lied in a while has she, hmm? You sigh. You're right of course. This isn't a "lie" like the other times have been. And you think you know why. At least a little, but first some ordering for your thoughts before you tackle it.
So, on the one hand you have this messy group of
things which aren't right. On the other you have her
resting. And then on her finely manicured third hand you have her mentioning something happening to her own mind during the story. It is pretty bluntly apparent that your mistress has undergone some kind of trauma, but you have
to help her. And she isn't exactly making it easy for you either.
You rest your chin on your hand, resting your elbow on the table, looking at your Lady Latria.
Putting it all together, especially the thing staring you in the face, its obvious.
There are emotions she shouldn't be experiencing, leaking in her mind.
This should not be happening.
Emotions burn in your brain, snarling your thoughts and forcing heat up into your face as your head hurts. Your other hand hurts where it is clenched in your lap.
But it is
happening, so what are you gonna do about it, huh? The thought pokes you. You tell it to shut up, since you now have an idea. Even if she won't help you help
her. Dammit.
The fluid feeling of magic passes over your eyes as that thought pokes you, causing you to blink and your unhappy expression to disappear. You "look" after the path she is laying.
It's… an experiment? You can't really tell what she's doing. She's looking inwards… you think.
Something is off about this, compared to every other time she has done magic that you know about.
"What are you looking for, my lady?" Your voice surprises you, and her.
It shouldn't have. She turns in a rustle and whisper of soft cloth, her feet entirely silent on the smooth floor. Her dark eyes stare at you as her magic rumbles in your blood, no longer directed inside her.
She tilts her head to the left.
Danger. You know what that gesture means. It hasn't changed since you met her, a landmark of sorts. But it is tinged with actual frustration, instead of a facsimile. You can
see it in the way her shoulders shift and her spine stiffens.
None of it is directed at me.
Another constant.
This hesitance to answer however, is
wrong. It is confirmation for what you are thinking. You look at her, your gaze stuck on hers. Her shoulders droop, very slightly.
"I do not know." Her voice is quiet, the tone soft. You did not expect her to be so straightforward. Your eyes narrow without your control, before you fix your expression again. There is so much wrong with that answer you don't know where even to
begin. And it casts some of the other things she's been doing in a different light.
Time to put your idea into motion.
"Perhaps your answer is out there then, my lady." You say, your voice calm, though you had to sell the soul of your first born to pull it off and the hand you gesture out beyond the walls is trembling very slightly. You can tell she notices everything anyway. Which was kinda the point to begin with. Now to see what she does with it.
She looks at you, her posture inhumanly frozen and stiff, frustration drained out of it. You are content to wait. You know Latria well enough at this point, even with the strange
shit cropping up when you really wish it wouldn't. Pushing her to go out and interact is probably one of the tritest things you've ever come up with. But it's all you got.
She takes in a breath to speak and you can tell that it will be a negation. Then, before you can even react, it is aborted and she says nothing. Folding your arms, you wait some more, stifling the nervous fidgets which want to leap out. Her eyes look away, and that sparks another bit of anger and worry in you. But you hold it in, dancing on tenterhooks while you wait.
"We would not be hiding." She says, her expression blank.
You raise an eyebrow and respond. "Of course we would be. We would not be fighting, nor hunting, nor doing anything but being unnoticed like every other
human out there
." Your tone is rather
tart with your mess of emotions, though still very respectful even if you are too stressed to properly express your respect with the right words.
She tilts her head right. You see a flash of curiosity, you're absolutely sure that's what it is, pop in her eyes. Her pale porcelain skin is brushed by the light of the sun, which is beginning to filter through the door to the garden, coloring it like white-gold.
"Acceptable." Her voice is weighty with undertones of more of those feelings which aren't right.
Though I don't think she quite realizes it. Which makes you disturbed. It transmutes everything into an unsettling weight on your shoulders since it confirms that something fundamental broke in your mistress. Though a part of you knows its more than just a new growth of emotions.
She is looking at you now. You can't decipher what she wants for a moment. After consideration though you shudder when you realize she's
asking you to make a suggestion. You push it away for now.
One thing after the other girl.
You stand.
"I think we should go for a walk." You say confidently, selling the rest of the souls of your future children to manage it.
Latria just nods in agreement.
***
It has been a few days since Annie made her suggestion to you. It was Wednesday now according to her. You were both walking around Sunnydale, meandering through one of its many parks, the sun warming the ground beneath your feet as it edges towards the horizon. You were cloaked in your seeming and Annie was in a jeans and t-shirt ensemble.
You went along with the first walk for a reason you can't really name. It did make the things in your head go away. Not enough on its own, but you went along with the ones after it because you could chase the feelings which slip in. They are like the sun on your face.
You think it probably has to do with memory. Somehow.
Annie is… distressed however, and you don't know how to fix it. You also find yourself with impulses to fix it, which is something new to you. You know her distress is connected to your recent changes, but when you cannot even describe the full shape of those changes to yourself there is not much you can do to help her.
These walks are obviously her attempts to help, you know that.
A part of you wonders if she's realized you have no task yet, even if you said you would go and kill the Old One's killer.
You ignore that train of thought and make another check of the park all around you. There are very few people out here besides you and Annie. From what you have learned it is about the time when people start leaving school or heading home from work. Nothing you need to be concerned about right now.
That leaves you to try and chase down that one feeling which has been touching you regularly on these walks. Seemingly at random, at least at first. You now think it might be caused by specific things like; warmth, hearing laughter or certain smells, hearing Annie say specific things.
She is walking close to you right now, her shoes, sneakers you've been told, clopping on the stone path while your bare feet brush silently along the grass besides the path. Her expression is calm, as relaxed as it ever gets recently. She's not looking at you, but you can tell she is still extremely aware of where you are and what you are doing anyway.
What is she looking at? You follow her gaze and see distantly a family at some tables underneath a tree. It would make sense she would focus on them from what you have learned of her past. But a closer look tells you that isn't the real thing she's looking at. There's a girl beyond the family who is smoking under a tree.
Blonde, the girl is wearing a coat tugged close around her over a red shirt and jeans. Looking at Annie again you can see she recognizes the girl. Probably from her time before you found her. Neither of you say anything about it as you walk out of sight of the girl into a tunnel of trees.
The dappled light is warm to you, though different from the variances of temperature that you normally are briefly interested in. The path is also rough on your feet, though you have no objection to this. Your eyes catch on the patterns, that feeling catching your attention again.
Your eyes follow the many overlaid patterns and eventually alight on distant buildings at the end of the path. Maple Court. There are other streets near it which also draw your attention as they also intensify the feeling you are chasing.
You can hear music coming from one of those streets and smell alcohol on the wind. People are laughing distantly. Looking back to Maple Court you can see a mass of clothing in colorful bursts off to one side. Other stores also make that feeling you can't name tick up.
Annie seems interested, though indecisive. A contemplative air surrounds her as you listen to the wind carrying all the sounds of the day to you.
Where do you chase this feeling?
[] To the bar and the music which makes you listen.
[] To the clothes and stores of Maple Court.
Hurraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! It is done! Araaaaaaaaaaaaay! Wanted to get it out yesterday but ah well.
Vote lock on August 10th Friday at 6 pm UTC.
