HEADCANON / UNTIL I BLEED OUT ( TIMELINE & SALVATION )
When Liltotto devoured PePe, severing the loathsome ties that bound her fate to his own, she deflated with a sigh of profound relief as her body collapsed into the rubble. Even in pieces, his Schrift would compel her to act in his service. A disgusting thing, Love could be.
It hurts, she thought. There was little she feared in this world, with nothing to lose and everything to gain. But she had a recurring nightmare still —or perhaps, an amalgam of memories and dreams, lodged in her brain like a clot of blood, rotting her from the inside; suffocating beneath a mountain of corpses at the bottom of a great pit, choking on their blood, her own hand (scarred and bruised, her fingers twisted and broken) reaching between limb and bone and flesh for another hand to grab hold of, despite knowing there was no one to reach back. Even so, her fingers extended outward, the harsh sun beating down on her skin. Waiting, waiting, waiting.
Maybe her vivid nightmare was a warning all along, as she lay mangled and bleeding, buried in crumbling stone and broken edifices to their so-called God; their now-called Betrayer. It hurts so much, she thought, her brain throbbing in the confines of her skull. How long had it been, she wondered, since she last cried? The tears came unbidden, without ceremony, as if she’d been holding them back all this time; her body waiting for the most opportune moment of exhaustion to break through the fortification of her self restraint.
Is this what happened to you? Considering her circumstances, a bleeding heap of meat cast into ruin, she couldn’t bear to picture her parents sharing a similar fate. Did you die together, at least? I would hope so, but this world is cruel. Maybe I’m crueler still, Mother... Father... I can’t meet you again. Not just yet. I’m not finished here. —I’ve forgotten what your faces look like, after all this time. Will you forgive me for being such a terrible daughter? Will you forgive me for making things so hard on myself? Somehow, I think I already know your answer, or maybe it’s just my own selfishness. I know yours is an answer that will never come. Don’t hate me, please. I just wanted to do what I thought was right. It was a childish wish, but it was all I ever wanted.
No sooner had Auswählen struck, smothering her weakened, writhing figure with its oppressive force; cold sweat beaded upon the sickly pallor of her skin, and had she been any less tenacious, she may have passed out from exhaustion. Take what you want, she sneered, gritting her teeth as blood poured from her nose, her mouth. This strength is mine before it’s yours, Yhwach. If you fashion yourself a God, then what does it make me, who shaped myself into this? Every band of muscle, every plane of hardened flesh, every jagged scar, every bead of sweat, and every ounce of endurance was created by me. I was The Power long before you designated me a Schrift, and you will not take this from me. —Even if you cast me into the deepest pit of Hell, I’ll crawl my way out. The flames would rather protect than harm me anways.
Through the rheumy film of blood and tears blurring her vision, she stared at her own severed hand. Fingers immobilized, deathly pale, blood slowing to an ooze as it trickled from the wound where it was severed from her body. Mottled hues of purple and brown colored the lifeless flesh, a final souvenir from Liltotto’s gnashing teeth. —Thank you, Lil. You’ll never understand how much you saved me. Sorry, Gigi. It’s my fault you got into this mess. You’re going to haunt me no matter what, but I hope it’s only as a memory. You deserve to live.
“And Bazz-B...” her lips parted, giving way to the hoarseness of her worn voice. If she could clench her fists, she would. The phantom pain lingered in the empty spaces where her hands were meant to be, the raw edges of her wounds stinging. “I’ll keep... my promise... just... you wait... and see. I always... keep..... my promises.”
Smiling weakly in spite of herself, her lips parted to reveal teeth dyed in crimson. I’m so stupid, she thought, realizing the way her hand seemed to reach for herself from afar. Her tears burned hot, blurring her vision, or maybe she was just so cold in comparison. I can pull myself out.
Blood bubbled in her throat as she choked upon it, cold steel plunging through her flesh, severing her windpipe. Her vision grew dark before she could begin to wonder who it was at the other end of the blade, driving its edge into her lifeless body.
