toyska | catchall; gideon

[her lips twitch at that first part. trouble, sure, but gideon thinks things would be a lot easier if you could just solve everything with a sword fight.

she shifts, rubbing at her neck. rolling her shoulders, just restless as always.]

You're not all bad, if that's the case. [she says, finally.] I'm not going to argue with you about good or bad, because you know the shit you've done better than I do, and honestly it doesn't really fucking matter to me what morality card you can flash.

[he can be a bad person, that's fine. it has no bearing on how she cares.]

But keeping it out of a kid's life is at least a little noble. So you can suffer me saying that much. That's better than any of the fucks on the Ninth.

[the screen flickers again.]

[He smiles a little.]

I'm not sure it's all that straightforward anyway. [He'd said as much in the past, hadn't he? "Even good guys lie and manipulate at times... and bad guys have their own doubts and misgivings," he'd told the Traveler and their friends. There's a bit of dissonance there, when he applies such thoughts to himself--but he doesn't want to argue with her. He's too used to letting people think what they want about him, good or bad; and besides that, he's pretty sure they've only got one more week together. No sense in parting on a sour note.

He notices that screen flickering, though, and he drums his fingers on the floor. They're probably not getting out of here without sitting through whatever else is about to play, but...]

...Do you want me to look away, before it starts?

Nah, I never look away from anybody's, so I might as well suffer it.

[

You're in the dark.

It's hard to see, in here. You are in a dome of perpetual bone (the rhyme makes you laugh somewhere in the back of your mind) and you are under fucking siege, but the only thing you can really focus on is the parts of Harrowhark's face that you can see in the dim light the Sixth's dinky torch provides. It's mostly blood. Her face, you mean, it's just so bloody. It's coming out of her pores. And yet - you're proud. She's raised a solid wall of bone, six inches thick, and is holding it up to protect all three of you, and you're weirdly, wildly proud of her.

And also sick with terror, but not for yourself. For her, as she keels over.

You catch her. And you insist she take from you, but she refuses. No. Not ever again, she says, not after what happened to the Eighth, and you feel the frustration rise up in your throat because there's no way she can hold this for long, and you realize - that's her intention.

"I don't have to hold it forever," she says, spitting out a clot of blood.

You tell her that her plan - she holds the wall, and you and Camilla jump off the cliff behind you into the sea, all you have to do is survive the fall - you tell her that her plan is stupid, and so is she, and she grabs you by the front of your shirt and hisses at you, you promised. You promised to go back and take care of the Tomb, and you think, wildly, fuck the tomb, fuck that.

You tell Camilla to shut up, too.

And then you look down at your necromancer. She has the heavy-lidded expression of someone who was concentrating in the knowledge that when they stopped concentrating, they would abruptly fall asleep. You know that if she goes under, she won't wake up again. She lifts her hand - it trembles - and taps you on the cheek.

"Nav," she says, "have you really forgiven me?"

"Of course I have, you bozo," you say. And then it tumbles out.

"You know I don't give a damn about the Locked Tomb, right?" you say in a rush, like you have to get it all out. "You know I only care about you. I'm no good at this duty thing. I'm just me. I can't do this without you. And I'm not your real cavalier primary. I never could've been."

And here's the thing - she laughs. You're not sure you've ever heard her laugh. Ever, in all these years. It's softer than you imagined.

"Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House," she says, hoarsely, "you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer."

And - that's enough of that. You stand up so suddenly that you nearly knock yourself out, and you start pacing. You look at the small, cramped space around you. The dead leaves, the cracked flagstones, Camilla - who was nice enough to pretend like she wasn't paying attention to the two of you - the powdery grey drifts of bone. The iron spikes of the railings.

"Yeah, fuck it. I'm getting us out of here," you say, and you take a deep breath. You pull off your black robe, you strip your gloves, roll your sleeves up. You are calm. It's just your body that's frightened.

Harrow makes confused sounds at you, but you just shake your head. "Harrow, I can't keep my promise, because the entire point of me is you. You get that, right? That's what cavaliers sign up for. There is no me without you. One flesh, one end."

"Nav," she says, suspicious. "what are you doing?"

"The cruelest thing anyone has ever done to you in your whole life, believe me," you say. "You'll know what to do, and if you don't do it, what I'm about to do will be no use to anyone."

And you turn, and you ignore any protests of anything else, you just - think. One last time, you are Gideon Nav, and you are not afraid, not anymore.

"For the Ninth!"

And you fall forward onto the iron spikes.

and outside of this gideon just flops back on the ground because this is like the sixth time she's had to relive dying and it's dumb every time.]

[The way I got distracted after my gagtag and forgot to write a real response

ANYWAY. That was a gagtag but like. Listen.

Is this a serious, poignant moment? Yes. Is he sure that this is probably, in many ways, a traumatic thing for her to relive? Sure, of course. No one's seen his death on these screens, not even him, but he's sure he wouldn't love to see it. She deserves respect and, if not acknowledgment, then at least a moment of space like she gave him.

BUT LIKE, IT'S ALSO REALLY FUCKING GAY and he can't help turning to look at her with raised eyebrows]

[asdfajskdk the endless gagtag...

listen. it's fine. it's actually - well, it's a little traumatizing, she doesn't like watching it, but she most just gets uncomfortable when people see it. mostly because she gets this response, which is people being like holy shit are you stupid she's in love with you

she gives him a flat look.]

Shut the fuck up. [HE DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING]

[HELP

He lifts his hands]

I didn't say anything. [But he sounds fond, there's no getting around that.]

I can hear you thinking it.

Yeah? [There's the amusement, though it's light. He could probably prod her into admitting whatever it is she thinks he's thinking (probably "wow you're a disaster lesbian lol," which isn't exactly untrue) but he doesn't. Not for the moment, at least.

Instead, he leans back on his hands.]

Then you'd know I was thinking, it's a good death.

[you should see how akira responded this she didn't sleep for a week.

anyway, he says that, and she sighs.]

... It meant something. [she says, finally.] It's all I had to give her, at the time.

[I hope he burst into tears]

...Not that it's any of my business, but I don't think you've ever needed to give her anything. [Which is a sweet sentiment, yes--but it's also because he thinks Harrow already thinks of Gideon as hers anyway. (Still, he knows there's a difference when it's willingly offered.)] But dying to protect your loved ones... it's not a bad way to go.

[That's part of the reason he fights too, after all. You don't have to be afraid for the people you hold dear if you're strong enough to defeat anything that could hurt them. He wouldn't have minded going out that way.]

catchall; gideon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject