alive and breathing in the desert sand [open]

[hauntedsavior]

Who: Anna Amarande and you!
What: July catchall
When: July, late month
Where: The beach where she died

Content Warnings: Nothing yet, will update as it becomes necessary

a. a long and bitter haunt by the callous words of gods

What Anna has been looking for, she thinks as she watches the waves roll in on the black sand, has changed so drastically even in the past few weeks. It started with vengeance, but the sword sticking up like a monolith behind her, vileblood seeping into the ground and poisoning everything around, she hasn't had the strength to pull it up yet. She'd think it were poetic if it weren't so fucking on the nose. Pity and self-loathing had had their time in the limelight, as well, and though Anna had never sought it out, she found both of them all the same. She's searching for peace, now, she thinks, peace in solitude and answers within the raging storm that Mariana has become within her own chest. There's no guarantee she'll find it; there's no guarantee she deserves it. But she can try.

She looks over her shoulder while she's perched on a rock overlooking the ocean. One leg is bent up while the other dangles, sways idly with each thought. People come, people go. Her decisions choose who remains in her life, and god fucking damn has she been making a lot of decisions lately. Leaving that blade where it is, she thinks, is the one that will end up mattering most; she can see it out of the corner of her eye as she breaks the silence.

"Did you cross the earth to be silent among the castle walls?" she asks quietly, her voice still low and scratchy. It feels like an appropriately dramatic way to address whoever's approaching her, whether they're invited or not. (She only made a point of inviting people she was pretty sure she was still on okay terms with. But that list is shrinking by the day, and the people she thought she was the most secure with, they're refusing to even speak with her except under duress.)

This is no solution, but maybe, as the wind whips at her hair and the salt fills her nose, she can get a little closer to one.

b. drowning cast in iron at the mercy of the undertow [wildcard]

((if you have anything that's not covered here then please hit me up here or on discord and we can get something going!!))

Comments

[onekindsoul]

[There's a lot of waves crashing around this month and wind is whipping around so Ruby misses whatever Anna happened to mumble as she approached the rock she was on. Which is why Anna gets a high pitched but still coherent yell in return.]

WHAT!?

[It's followed by a clump of wet black sand mud flying at the back of her head before Ruby starts trying to clamber up the rock.]

You had better not be planning on jumping into the ocean like the other nut jobs! I'm getting really tired of trying to pull people out of there.

for atreides

[hauntedsavior]

they were talking death and glory for the sake of all our mournful lives.

Before all of this, though, before the wind blowing her hair and the echoing of a battle that ruined whatever tenuous alliance anyone within House Atreides seemed to have had with each other, Anna stands at dusk on the selfsame beach that, not ten days earlier, had been her open grave. Over the ocean, the sun is dying in the sky, but the sickly orange of the Reckoning's moon rises on the other side of the town, refusing to let anyone truly find peace.

She stands as a woman who is not prepared for a fight. Her clothing is still stained with blood from the ritual, hanging loose and tattered off her body. She knows in her heart, or whatever it is that she truly has, that if Paul were to order her to walk into the water and not stop, it would spell the end of her. And for the murder of Falco Grice, she would deserve it.

A few paces ahead of her, the vileblood-coated blade that she had plunged into the earth from her talons still remains like it's begging to be ripped from the ground and used. Like it longs to rip into flesh and manifest the slow, agonizing death that Anna had been cheated from. She is making no move for it yet; her first priority is greeting her opponent.

"Annalise Lehmann of House Amarande responds to House Atreides' summons," she says. It's the only thing that seems appropriate.

[hauntedsavior]

[anna laughs, despite it all. the drama of everything cut through like a scarlet knife, and on the other end of it is ruby rose. it's incredible how she stays this resilient.]

I'm not going anywhere, Ruby. I've spent enough time running. [she shifts a little so she can at least be looking at ruby.] I have to live in the world that I made for myself.

a(yyy)

[grice]

[ with how sand gives away beneath great weight, it's honestly a little difficult to realize something as large as falco was approaching from anna's far left and slightly behind the view over her shoulder. the winds mask the blow and chafing of feathers. he'd been out earlier, to stretch his wings and the rest of his limbs, his back, his neck— at least to feel like he wasn't cramped in this vessel. food was being taken care of, thank goodness. maybe a walk, for once, wasn't a bad idea. it's been days, almost two weeks now that nothing has changed, both in his stature as well as mentality. good, in a way, still worrying in others.

but surely, they'll find a way to fix it.

keen eyesight meant he could see much of anything at a long distance, and anna's frame on top of a lone rock by the farthest shore wasn't hard. he could even see how her leg kicks back and forth, casual, but with her sights someplace far away. with danger at mostly a minimum, he decides to come to her, slow and crawling the way bats or wyverns with arms for wings do. her poetry is met with brief silence; he still keeps distance, as not to startle her, but as a response that there is someone there with her— he clacks his beak. ]

[hauntedsavior]

Falco.

[she says it like it's a surprise, like she hadn't been anticipating him. maybe it's just because this is the first she's actually seen him since it had happened and she feels his presence like a stake through her heart. she turns around entirely on the rock, sliding her legs beneath her as she does.]

It's good to see you again. [god help her, she means it.] How has it been... you know, getting better?

[she winces as she asks it, realizing that it's a terrible thing to ask someone she'd murdered, but she can't take her words back either.]

A

[slayerskiss]

[She looks back at Anna. There's a million things she could say - a million ways she could feel about this woman. From judgement to contempt to compassion to faith (ha). She hadn't expected it, really, but she'd heard what happened.

It's been a few days since she returned from the dead. She's not sure how long it's been since Anna's returned, but Faith can't even say the experience was horrible. She spent a while in the ocean, it felt like a few weeks. Maybe longer. It was peaceful in a way that being alive is not.

There's a new nasty scar on the side of her neck, where an ugly black rot crawls up her skin. It's not far off where Reaper shot her. She'd thought of covering it up before meeting Anna's summons, but no, she'll wear it. It's better to wear the shame of her defeat than let it infect her.

She looks at Anna as she speaks, something measured - almost evaluating in her eyes, and she speaks up, her own voice husky and tired.]

The fuck are you on about, Cap?

[She's not exactly great with metaphors... despite being a metaphor herself.]

[hauntedsavior]

[she recognizes the voice just before placing faith's appearance. it's hard to tell whose side she's on anymore, or if there's even a side to take. but that, after all, is why she invited faith to join her here. whoever gave her that scar, that rot, must wish that they were clean enough to kill the way john can. her own chest aches thinking about it.]

It's a song lyric. 's called "Metatron". [she shakes her head slowly.] It's from back home. Your crew might not be ready for it yet, but your kids are gonna love it. [and more stupid jokes, more references all the way down to try to avoid confronting what happened. but she knows she can't avoid it forever.]

What the fuck happened out there, Faith? On the boat, with... with everything? [because she's been... out of it. she's been in a state of shock, and she's been dead, and she just doesn't know the answers.]

I can figure from how you're not trying to kill me right now that we're probably still on the same side. But I've been dead fucking wrong about that before.

cw for past abuse/smoking

[slayerskiss]

The day I have kids is the day someone should just finish me off and spare 'em the misery. [She's from 2000, Anna, please. She does light up a cigarette, though. It's how her mother coped with stress when she wasn't beating her, maybe she was onto something.

She scoffs at that, somewhere between baffled and the slightest bit offended. It's not unfounded, to be worried that Faith is here to kill her. It's not even unfair now that Faith's spilled her fair share of blood.

Still, there is something that grates her about the way she frames it as something of "sides" and not mutual mistakes, like it's a war and not a senseless free for all.]

What fuckin' sides even are there?

The way I hear it, plenty of us left that boat and started making the worst kinds of mistakes. You and me included. [She crosses her arms, shakes her head.] But no. I'm not going to kill you. I'm about sick of killing.

[She clicks her tongue after inhaling the smoke into her lungs and breathing it out.]

I don't know what the fuck happened on that boat. Nothing good. Not for anyone.

[hauntedsavior]

[when anna smells that familiar smoke, her chest aches for a different reason. she's been so sick coming back that she hasn't wanted to risk it yet, but she's fucking dying for some nicotine right now to take the edge off. she still doesn't trust herself yet, though, so she refrains; the cigarettes continue to weigh down her pocket.]

I don't know what sides there are either anymore. In the moment it all felt so fucking simple, you know? Here's me, the person people call a hero, and here's John Gaius, the person people call a villain, and here's the fight between good and evil that needs to happen.

[she's not admitting more quite yet, but the way she phrased that description of John, that wasn't just to sound poetic.]

But I'm still sitting out here waiting for someone to try it anyway. I'm not gonna fight back. They can kill me as many times as they want if it'll make them feel better. [sigh.]

You don't walk away from killing a kid without people wanting your head on a plate. Even if someone already turned your heart into ground beef.

[slayerskiss]

[The only reaction she shows is to the last part, and even then it's just a brief rise of her eyebrows. A flicker of surprise. Way to start off, Captain "Never-Killed" Amarande. She doesn't say that. It's not fair.]

It always feels simple in the moment. [She shifts, unsure what to do with her body.]

Willow and I killed a lot of people. At the time I didn't really see it as much different from what I usually do. [She breathes out, smoke trailing out of her mouth. It reminds her of how the bullets left her as she laid there dying.] Then Willow went too far and I killed her too.

Got rewarded by the Reckoning for every single one too. [She smiles, thin and bitter. They were all wrong. They were all horrific. They were all justice in it's coldest and cruelest variety.] Reckoning's a real bitch. That's my take-away.

You under the impression dying will help make up for it, or are you just hopin' it'll make you feel better?

[hauntedsavior]

[anna just breathes out into the wind. yeah. yeah, the reckoning really is a fucking lot. that's the problem with blindly worshipping vengeance, isn't it? you always think it's what you want until you get it, and then... well. good going indeed, captain.]

Nothing's gonna make me feel better except time, I think. [it's surprisingly mature, possibly, but she draws her lips tight as she looks out over the ocean.] I lost pretty much everything the second I thought I could go to the Reckoning to solve my problems. The second I thought, "Hey, this god of vengeance whose dick I've been sucking for the past year can help me get what I want." [stupid. all of it, always. there was never any other way this could've played out.]

But if anyone else thinks killing me will make them feel better, then what right do I have to tell them it won't? Might as well just let them do it and wash back up another week later.

1/2

[slayerskiss]

[She looks at Anna, really looks at her, a measured empathy to her. She understands, really, she does. Of course vengeance won't do any good. Of course it won't do any good for the person giving it, but maybe you deserve it.

Maybe she deserved the way that her knife twisted in her stomach as Jessica went about torturing her with all the vicious hate of the witch she loved so much increased tenfold.

It's easy, thinking that way. Like you're a martyr, like in death you're important, still a hero in some way, repentant in your condemnation.

She reaches out for Anna...]

2/2

[slayerskiss]

[And slaps her on the head. It's not hard enough to be exceedingly painful. Just enough to be a jolt to her (literal) system, robot body or no. Her look fades into a glare, and she sighs in exasperation.]

That's for saying stupid shit.

[She shakes her head, taking another tug of her cigarette, a large one this time. It almost burns half the damn thing off before she exhales.]

You think you wouldn't hurt people that way? Ange? That girl of yours? Your friends? Get a fuckin' grip.

[She softens some, though.]

It's always simple that way. Dying or suffering for your "sins" like it'll somehow make it okay. It won't. It'll just hurt everyone in the way for something that won't bring anyone any satisfaction, least of all the killer. Or you. [I know what you want, Faith. And I'm not going to make it easy for you.

She isn't great at being a comforting presence, in general, but she's learnt this lesson enough at least. Hopefully.]

[hauntedsavior]

[anna shoots her hand up to her head and whips around on her rock to glare at faith, but gives her time to explain herself instead of immediately calling her a bitch. probably because anna knows she deserved this for being a drama queen herself.]

Obviously I don't think it's actually gonna make anyone feel better, Faith! I'm fucking tired of vengeance. You think it's what you wanted this whole time and then you get it and you just feel empty and hollow inside, and you still have to deal with the aftermath of all of it, too. That's the part no one warns you about. [she's lying; she's been warned about this nearly every step of the way by people way smarter than she ever feels like she'll be. she goes quiet to compensate for the shake in her lungs. she'd love to talk about something that isn't her; normal people ask about other people, don't they? but she can't break out of her own head just yet.]

And Kainé fucking left me because of this, so jot that down.

[grice]

[ with his presence made known, falco crawls a little closer, dwarfing the rock and android beside him once he sits on his feet and folds his wings, with his hands resting over his front. it's been easier to get perle to translate rather than trying to sign, especially now when he's figured it out better— much better. the little pygmy falcon omen is easily missed once she materializes on top of his head the mess of his hair. she speaks, but with his words.

it's better of her to ask than to not care. ]

Nothing's really changed yet. Um— But I can move, and think clearly? That's good. [ which is certainly away from the danger he was afraid of posing. he's just . . . still large. ] Have you rested?

A (Late Month, obviously)

[threelayers]

Neopolitan looked like absolutely nothing was wrong. Her clothes were as meticulous and garrish as ever, showing not a stitch out of place. Every step she made on the beach was without a limp, but by now Anna might recognize that she walked just slow enough that the 'slink' in her step was clearly guarding against a stumble that would let on. It was all a fake, just for the cameras.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked at the question, holding a hand out in a sort of 'well obviously' gesture that took in her person. Because of course she was going to be silent among those castle walls. Walking up closer, she reached out to rest a hand on Anna's shoulder, glancing at her and letting a little worry show in her face. She wasn't going to ask the dumb question that came to her mind. Obviously, her friend wasn't alright.

But she'd let her start the talking. It seemed best.

[hauntedsavior]

[things already seem better than they were immediately after both of them had recovered. she thinks, briefly, of eren when she realizes just how small she is next to falco. and she thinks of the things she'd remembered seeing eren do, especially during the october of monstrosity. and she thanks whatever god is listening that falco is as kind as he is; were he any more vicious, she might never have made it to john. (wouldn't that have been a mercy?)]

I've spent the last week or so resting. Ever since I came back. Not a lot else to do when you come back with nothing but bronchitis and an empty house. [she doesn't want to make this about kainé, though. she's talked about her enough, no matter how deep her love still flows. instead, she extends one hand out gently, trying to touch falco's wing while she speaks.]

I am so sorry. I'm sorry I was so far gone that you couldn't save me. I know you were trying so hard, and I'm sorry that I just couldn't hear what you were saying.

[slayerskiss]

[Thinking that was clearly the delusion and naivety of someone who's never had to kill someone before. Even Buffy, tearfully claiming they're more than killers - that they're not above the law or better than anyone else, even she knew that revenge wouldn't make her happy. Because her burden was to enact revenge, again and again, until it broke her and killed her too.] I could've warned you, you know.

So don't let it happen, 'cuz then the cycle just goes on. You don't think there's anyone left who'd kill to avenge you if someone came and killed you for a crime you already died for? [She flicks the cigarette into the ocean that spat them all out. As a last fuck you to it. It gets spat back out onto the bank furiously.

She does give Anna an empathetic look at the news that Kaine left her, though.] I'm sorry about that. [Heartbreak is heartbreak.]

If it makes you feel any better, I kissed a girl I think I'm sweet on and then I killed her seconds later. [Would it make her feel better??? No. But Faith still thinks that was a fucking wild thing that happened.] So. At least you didn't do that, I guess.

[hauntedsavior]

"You think you're so clever," she said, laughing just a little. "Good to see you out here."

She wasn't a fool, though. She could tell something had happened, and if NP was letting her see it, even just a little bit, then Anna knew it had to be on purpose. But she wouldn't say anything about it. Other people had afforded her enough grace that she could give it to others as well.

"Doing better than I was when I'd just come back," she said, "But I've been worse, too. It's been complicated. Think I'm... I don't know. Think I'm learning that the Reckoning isn't all she's cracked up to be. Her and everything she stands for."

[grice]

[ he's as soft as feathers could be, and absolutely warm too, like holding a hand out to a kindling fire. falco does not shy away from the touch, especially not when he started the proximity. he will be careful with his own limbs, though, keeping them to himself— or else he'd force her hand away if he decided to stretch. at most, he performs an easy, subtle lean to fill her palms with golden tufts. ]

I'm sorry for what happened to you, Miss Anna. [ he cannot fathom the amount of anger that still rings clear in her message to the atreides group chat. what happened there, on the boat. ] You were so angry. I know that we don't see when we're angry. Even less as beasts.

[ but he has always . . . tried to put a gentle, reminding hand on gabi's shoulder when we would shudder, sob, scream with a rifle in her hands. he had always attempted to to set it down from the sights she would lock on— that effort extends when he sees it in others. ]

Please— don't think my choice was your fault.

[hauntedsavior]

[anna watches that extremely poetic display of discarding a cigarette while letting faith talk, and she doesn't say anything until faith is done.]

That's a crime of passion if I've ever heard one. [she doesn't know what else to say to that. she's not even sure if she knows who willow is, or if willow was even the person in question. but she also knows that she doesn't know what a crime of passion is, and that it probably doesn't apply here. right now it's all just... fucked up and jumbled together in her head as she tries to work her way through all this.]

I wouldn't have listened if you tried to warn me. I think I had to do this to understand what it really felt like. To know the ways it leaves you... I don't know. Aching in your chest. There's no warning that can replace that. [her fingers twitch. she's still resisting the urge to smoke up. time to change the subject. she taps those twitching fingers to her neck instead and looks at faith carefully.] Do you still remember what happened with you? Did you turn into a beast in the end, too?

[hauntedsavior]

[how could she, is the first thought she has when she realizes just what it is to touch these feathers. how could she do anything to take something like this from the world? she's monstrous.]

I was so angry. I didn't need the Reckoning to transform me. [she looks into the middle distance with an unreadable emotion on her face.] I was already a beast. You were just trying to put me down before anybody else could get hurt.

[she's not blaming herself for what falco chose to do. she's blaming herself for not being strong enough to see past the rage. she's blaming herself for failing. what happened to the person who protected others?]

I don't know if you have a reason to believe me, but... there won't be a second time. I won't do this again.

[grice]

[ luckily, falco doesn’t have to dislodge himself to move his head— the perks of being bird-themed. a small extension and look down, tilt included, was enough to meet her far away gaze and peer into them. ]

I believe you. [ he has more than one reason to. the first was his own heart, the second was a voice so teeming with remorse, and the third . . . the look on her face, and in her eyes. there’s nothing more to convince him of. ] I especially didn’t want you to get hurt. The feeling, after—

[ he knows what overwhelming guilt could do to a person. ]

Let me help you through it.

[slayerskiss]

[She laughs a little, not maliciously, just miserably. The idea that it would ever feel different to that...

Well, maybe Faith can understand. It feels amazing to kill monsters. And the rush of power she got from killing people felt orgasmic at the time. But afterwards, when she's scrubbing blood off of her jacket or out of her fingernails, and she looks in the mirror and hates what she sees...] Could've warned you about that too. The not listening, I mean.

I didn't. [She thinks it's a miracle she's never been a beast, she's felt halfway there on multiple occasions.] Willow and I killed Maul and his brother, as revenge for what he did to Willow, then Sayo tried to stop us - reason with us, I guess - and I unloaded on her about what she did to Ange, and what she was doing to Ange even still. And then I killed her.

Then Willow caught sight of Johnny and decided to kill him for giggles, and I guess it was then when I realized it wasn't actually about protecting the people she loves or avenging the ways she's been hurt. It was about the same thing it's always about.

Power.

Tried to tell Johnny to get out of there while Willow tore me apart, failed 'cuz apparently he had similar ideas to me, he got torn apart in my place while I was stuck bleeding on the pavement.

Then I - Gideon and I, kind of, Oz was there too - We killed her. [She watches Anna's expression, like she's waiting for the moment Anna decides she's a disgusting murderer and turns her back on her.] Then Sayo's girlfriend came and gave torturing me to death a go. Got the torture part right, but she's not great at murder.

Busy summer, I gotta say.

[terriblepurpose]

Paul was kneeling on the beach facing the buried blade as Anna approached, his expression obscured by the thin black scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face even in this heat. He unfolds to his feet as she comes closer, watching her impassively, without a flicker of feeling.

"Atreides recognizes Amarande," he says, flatly. In contrast to her ragged, worn demeanor, Paul looks ready for a battle. He looks ready for a war, a weapon sheathed in matte black, two knives holstered at his hips and nothing in his dark green eyes.

His anger pulses inside, beneath his icy surface. It flares at her temerity to attempt to mimic a formality she cannot possibly understand, at her dull, sad look, at her guilt draped over her like a torn banner. He wants her to be sorry for what she's done. He loathes that she dares to be, after all her fierce and bloody bluster.

"You came," he says, and not any of the rest.