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these are the main tags i will be using but new ones may be created as i see fit!
@doktorwest said: if you wanted to die, why didn't you?
' 'CAUSE IT WOULDN'T'A BEEN THAT SIMPLE. ' of this, ash is certain; death had come calling for the others far too soon for it to have put them out of their misery. he leans back in his seat, dragging a hand down his face before he finally meets the doctor's inquisitive gaze. ' killing us wasn't the worst that those things— the deadites— could do to us, and they were hellbent on provin' it. ' he'd seen it himself, he'd felt it, that all-consuming terror as something slammed itself into his body, thrashing and clawing and violent as it fought not just to subdue him, but to consume him. he could not see beyond the thick fog that suffocated him, could not hear beyond that hideous laughter, could not feel beyond indescribable agony. it had delighted in his suffering, would've been pleased to cling to what shreds of him were left for as long as it could've, forcing him to endure and endure and endure. he doesn't know what would've happened had the sun stayed hidden, if its rays hadn't punched holes through the inky darkness that bound him.
ash tries not to think about it.
' to give up and let them kill me meant handing my soul over on a silver platter. no thanks! besides, ' he continues, voice becoming low and distant, ' one of us had to make it outta there. all that couldn't'a been for nothing. i just-- y'know, i never thought it'd be me. ' it's quiet, suddenly, too quiet; the air around him seems to stiffen at the admission. ash clears his throat a bit, tries to shrug it off with a wry smile. ' i mean, from the jump, i was a total coward. when shit hit the fan, i just froze. scotty, though . . . ' gaze drops to the mug in his hand, the abyss of stale coffee within reflecting his grief. ' yeah, scotty was an asshole, but if he had just listened instead of stormin' out like that . . . well. i really do think he would'a made it. ' guys like that are meant to. ' selfish bastard had what it took. all i had was luck. '
ANAKIN ROLLS INTO THE MEDBAY LIKE A STORM CLOUD: heavy and dark and silent, an eerie sort of calm about him despite bringing with him the threat of white-hot lightning. sterile medbay air is electrified, seeming to shift around him as he lurks in the doorway, simply watching with a vague indifference as medical droid neatly places a bacta patch to a cut above obi-wan's brow. something almost like guilt sinks to the pit of his stomach; after all, obi-wan had only endured this as means to buy anakin and ahsoka enough time to disarm the bombs scattered about the settlement. had he been quicker, then maybe—
you don't seem quite yourself.
the guilt goes flat when his former master finally meets his gaze, when anakin remembers why he came in the first place. dark eyes are unreadable as they rake over obi-wan, taking in every bruise and cut marring his face. ' i dont feel quite myself. ' he can't keep the mocking edge from his voice, indifference morphing into something sharper. a glare is shot at the medical droid, and it doesn't take long for it to clear out.
' ahsoka and i had a really interesting conversation just now, ' he starts, voice even and casual as he strolls further into the room. ' i'll spare you the details — i'm sure that you already know them. what i want to know, though, ' he stops just before obi-wan, looming over him, dark cloud blotting out florescent lighting, ' is why you thought it was acceptable — no, why you thought it was appropriate to go over my head and give my padawan sensitive information that i clearly didn't want her to have? '
@m3chaman said: i need you to say something motivational.
SHE LAUGHS. SHE LAUGHS HARD. ' yeah, right. ' cigarette raises to her lips, lighter flicking once, twice before it's lit. ' good one. i mean, can you fucking imagine? heya kids, it's invisigal, formerly known as invisibitch! i was once a hopeless criminal, but then i joined sdn's phoenix program and turned my life around! i'm proof that the system works or something! '
a beat of silence. ' . . . wait. ' as she tries to picture the tired face behind the monitor, it dawns on invisigal that her dispatcher isn't joking. ' you seriously want to send me to go talk to a bunch of kids? ' a middle school assembly? christ. she can think of about a million things that would be less of a waste of her time. ' need i remind you that you have a sick ass bat monster and a literal pop star at your disposal? '
' IT'S . . . HARD. ' newest survivor hesitates, blood-splattered sneaker kicking up loose leaves and twigs littering forest floor as they walk along the edge of the campfire. ' y'know. looking for someone who can't be found. '
"hard" is an understatement. it had been grueling. maddening. torturous. like her heart had been cut — no, ripped from her body. there was nothing in the world that could have healed that gaping wound; she'd sported it for months, bloody and unsightly, haunting greenville long after the official search had ended. she had stopped going to class. she had stopped airing all things wicked. there was only one thing on her mind:
lure the entity back, and use it to find mikaela.
' i knew exactly where she was. ' she's stopped walking now, staring past dwight and into the darkness. ' i knew exactly what took her, but no one believed me. shit, i was starting to feel crazy myself, until— ' until i saw it again. tendrils of fog beckoning her towards the movie theater. a familiar voice, warped as it was, calling to her from the shadows. sa... ble...
for the first time in months, her foolish heart had begun to beat again.
' pretty stupid, huh? ' sable kicks at the ground again, sending more leaves scuttling away. ' i knew it would take me and then we'd both be trapped, but— ' i couldn't keep living without her.
' I WISH I HAD KNOWN YOU BEFORE. ' it's a selfish sentiment, he knows, but there's a weight to it, a truth; a heavy melancholy lit up by the orange glow of eternal campfire as gaze flits from fair leader to dancing flames. it feels pathetic, like saying you saved my life here, i wish you could've saved it before. or maybe i could've saved you before. we could've saved each other.
there's no use in considering the what-ifs, but they can't help it. ' . . . i don't think you would've liked me very much before, though. ' a sideways glance, a wry smile. ' i was a mess. '
