[ the black eye nothing you're not used to seeing on his face. At least lately. Without Elric there to take the brunt of it, Lucien has been on the receiving end more than not, lately. What remains of Elric breathes steadily from it's place, slumped against the wall of the caravan.
The doll comes along. Lucien doesn't remember whether it was taken or not, so its fate is really up to Nero. ]
We're going. I've got a plan. Please just be quiet.
[ he's packing without waiting for an answer - whatever clothes he can hold in his arms and putting them in nero's. aldreda's. And then he's pulling her along, out the door and into the woods. they are always together. they're the younger two of the three. Elric is - well, was - a good five years older. always more responsible, watching out for them. but lucien was always willful, always acting more than his years, and lately he's had to do more of that - Sock Brother is obedient but only to exacting degrees. He can listen to commands, but is listless otherwise. As if he's not even there anymore. The witch-woman had a penchant for puppets, but not life.
there's a few wildflowers, less so, as they move in deeper - but the woods here have always been strange. magic-warped. he doesn't go very far, but once he think they're out of earshot he pushes him down by the shoulder to sit in the hollow of a tree. ]
Just. Stay here. Please. I'll be back as quick as I can, aye?
[ without waiting more than that, he lets go of her hand and takes off back towards the caravan. you can stay here, in the dark and the silence and the creaking of the trees. or if you're quiet you could follow.
If he does ...
he'll smell it before he sees it. smoke. and then hear it - crackling, the sound of wood starting to break. and burn.
as he pushes through the branches, through the trees, it's obvious. the heat and light - a fire. enormous. the caravan in flames - reaching higher than the trees. the kind of fire that can only be made, certainly not an accident. that much seems obvious if she looks, under the caravan has been stuffed with dry grass and branches, bits of paper and anything else that seems likely to burn. a piece of wood shoved across the door to lock it into place.
in front of it, silhouetted, is lucien - a burning stick in his hand, watching the fire as if enthralled.
[ He doesn't stay where he's told, he follows Lucien, watches him burn this place down.
And he thinks.... "That's brave."
The thing is that this isn't entirely unfamiliar to him. It's not the first time he's run away from a family that treated him poorly. He was never as brave as this, Nero didn't even try to get anybody else out, he didn't burn down the place he was hurt- he just ran.
The freezing cold of the North, the snow burying you.
This wasn't where you thought you'd die.
Something presses against your neck, like its searching for a heartbeat. Your clothes are blood-soaked, and frozen to your torso. And suddenly there's a familiar feeling of somebody pumping magic into you, trying to keep you alive.
Your eyes don't open, but you know that voice anywhere. That's Bradley, "--, Nero."
It's a struggle to say what you need to, but you need to be responsible. The others need backup, "Help... the rest of the Eastern..." That's enough from you. You could die right here, you've done enough. Your body is giving out, even as Bradley keeps trying to heal you, keeps calling out to you.
You can't understand why he's trying so hard. Your eyes open, but it's hard to grasp for a reason to live, or to try to stay alive now.
His expression darkens, grabbing you by the front of your shirt. "…You bastard, what the hell do you think you’re--? You think you’re gonna get to die and get off that easy, huh? You fucking traitor, thinking you get to take the easy way out. How many people do you think- -of you?! The only person that gets to kill you is me! And until you’ve paid- -, you don’t get to die!"
The guilt pools deep in your gut. He's right. You're not allowed to die here, no matter how you feel about it.
Bradley deserves to end your life how he sees fit, after everything you've done to him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
IM SO SORRY DW ATE MY NOTIF SO BAD
The doll comes along. Lucien doesn't remember whether it was taken or not, so its fate is really up to Nero. ]
We're going. I've got a plan. Please just be quiet.
[ he's packing without waiting for an answer - whatever clothes he can hold in his arms and putting them in nero's. aldreda's. And then he's pulling her along, out the door and into the woods. they are always together. they're the younger two of the three. Elric is - well, was - a good five years older. always more responsible, watching out for them. but lucien was always willful, always acting more than his years, and lately he's had to do more of that - Sock Brother is obedient but only to exacting degrees. He can listen to commands, but is listless otherwise. As if he's not even there anymore. The witch-woman had a penchant for puppets, but not life.
there's a few wildflowers, less so, as they move in deeper - but the woods here have always been strange. magic-warped. he doesn't go very far, but once he think they're out of earshot he pushes him down by the shoulder to sit in the hollow of a tree. ]
Just. Stay here. Please. I'll be back as quick as I can, aye?
[ without waiting more than that, he lets go of her hand and takes off back towards the caravan. you can stay here, in the dark and the silence and the creaking of the trees. or if you're quiet you could follow.
If he does ...
he'll smell it before he sees it. smoke. and then hear it - crackling, the sound of wood starting to break. and burn.
as he pushes through the branches, through the trees, it's obvious. the heat and light - a fire. enormous. the caravan in flames - reaching higher than the trees. the kind of fire that can only be made, certainly not an accident. that much seems obvious if she looks, under the caravan has been stuffed with dry grass and branches, bits of paper and anything else that seems likely to burn. a piece of wood shoved across the door to lock it into place.
in front of it, silhouetted, is lucien - a burning stick in his hand, watching the fire as if enthralled.
no more little songs. no more farces.
as lucien turns to look back into the woods--
the memory ends. you're back. ]
IT'S OK
And he thinks.... "That's brave."
The thing is that this isn't entirely unfamiliar to him. It's not the first time he's run away from a family that treated him poorly. He was never as brave as this, Nero didn't even try to get anybody else out, he didn't burn down the place he was hurt- he just ran.
What he says, coming out of the memory is- ]
Sorry, I saw that.
no subject
... It's fine. No worse than any of the others.
no subject
[ Nero's memory has a temperature to it too.
The freezing cold of the North, the snow burying you.
This wasn't where you thought you'd die.
Something presses against your neck, like its searching for a heartbeat. Your clothes are blood-soaked, and frozen to your torso. And suddenly there's a familiar feeling of somebody pumping magic into you, trying to keep you alive.
Your eyes don't open, but you know that voice anywhere. That's Bradley, "--, Nero."
It's a struggle to say what you need to, but you need to be responsible. The others need backup, "Help... the rest of the Eastern..." That's enough from you. You could die right here, you've done enough. Your body is giving out, even as Bradley keeps trying to heal you, keeps calling out to you.
You can't understand why he's trying so hard. Your eyes open, but it's hard to grasp for a reason to live, or to try to stay alive now.
His expression darkens, grabbing you by the front of your shirt. "…You bastard, what the hell do you think you’re--? You think you’re gonna get to die and get off that easy, huh? You fucking traitor, thinking you get to take the easy way out. How many people do you think- -of you?! The only person that gets to kill you is me! And until you’ve paid- -, you don’t get to die!"
The guilt pools deep in your gut. He's right. You're not allowed to die here, no matter how you feel about it.
Bradley deserves to end your life how he sees fit, after everything you've done to him.
"I'm giving you magic. Take it. Don't fight it."
You barely manage to nod in response. ]
no subject
Long history with that one?
no subject
[Which is already too long.]