Once you landed on the soft sand you fluttered your wings and looked at your opponent. Better to not misunderstand somebody from his kind. He was different from the Eridan from your timeline and you were fully aware that his possibly the strongest among his kind.
You tossed your dice, depending as usual on luck and luck only. Because you were Vriska Serket - and you had all the luck, all of it. And that's why even the most impossible outcome was possible for you.
You rolled circle 8s on the Octet, activating 'Ancestral Awakening'. As expected your outfit changed, to such that was similiar to your ancestor's, allowing you to move faster than normally. Within a flash of light a sword made out the same material as your dice showed up in your hand and a cerulean-aura surrounded your body, giving you an exponential power boost. The tension you felt stood in the way and distracted you from the fight. It was way worse than the time you stood up against Bec Noir. But this time, it was different. You felt mellow as you had no reason to fight; he did nothing wrong that will get you mad nor he killed anyone dear to you that revenge pushed you into the fight. 'A training' wasn't a good enough excuse for you to try too hard either way.
The seadweller could kill you easily if he only wished to, however any hit you've received from him hurt far more than usual, the pain still left even when the wounds healed slowly. The situation seemed bad, you couldn't strike him even once and the anger that filled you wasn't in the same level as it was sweeps ago when you faced the black beast in your timeline.
It wasn't any different from any battle, he only messed with you until you will break like a little toy.
It lasted for a while until you've became tired, the pain in your ribs and bones all was unbearable, your wings were ripped badly, you lost any will to fight on and both of your weapons - the sword and the dice were thrown away and far from your reach.
You knelt down, feeling ashamed and more pathetic than ever - the train of karma finally hit you.
Admitting your own loss was never like you. You briefly tried to stand up one more time, just one more time and last chance.
Your name is Vriska Serket and you are 20 sweeps old.
Your name is Vriska Serket and you're pretty much dead.
You are too busy to try and make it up for what you've done in the past as you never managed to prove yourself an actual hero, even with the given chance to you. You could only hope that any familiar faces that you'd stumble upon would accept your small apology.
Time in the dream bubbles was weird, you could barely remember how old you were and never knew when it was actually night time or day time - your sleeping schedule was a one big mess and you slept whenever you felt tired.
You usually wandered around the same place in hope to find him or even her. Tavros, Terezi, either way will do. You wanted to apologize - you were ought to do that or else you'd never 'clean' yourself off of the guilt feelings you felt. There was no use no matter how many times you've tried so far and you lost count on those times long ago.
You dragged your feet over to your hive until noticing a familiar scent which wasn't the pleasant.
The smell of fresh blood.
At first the smell startled you. Is somebody you know over there? What if those are some trolls you've killed at some point and they want revenge? Oh well, you had powers of God and you were already dead. It wasn't that big of a deal. In fact, the smell attracted you.
You rushed to your hive and followed the smell -- downstairs. It wasn't Tavros, nor Terezi and not an army of bloodlusting trolls who wanted you even more dead. It was her, your lusus and she greeted you with a usual groan. A sound you've almost missed if you weren't so terrified by it when you were young.
There was an awkward moment of silence and you took hesitated steps towards the big spider. Was it really she? Or was your bubble simply fitting whatever is in your head? You had no idea and didn't that to bother your mind too much.
One of your hands reached over to stroke one of her fangs. She was clean, she was not hurt and bleeding like when you had to kill her to spare her from pain nor she was devouring anyone alive. The smell of blood was only your imagination as it seems.
You petted her a little, hand reaching whenever it only could. You were so small compared to her, no matter how much you grew up.
The lusus let out a faint soft growl but she didn't protest the physical contact like she always did when you were alive sweeps ago. She even looked like she supported it. And despite all the lesson she ever taught you until you were 6, you couldn't be strong and act like an emotionless bitch now. You broke in front of her, hoping she will accept you, hoping to find a place where you could get a comfort from a "monster" which was almost like you.
You rested your head on her fang and sighed softly, unable to find the proper words to say to her. There was too much and even so, you managed to sort out what words she deserves to hear. You didn't have to apologize for killing her as it was only for her own sake, to spare on her and save her from pain.
And the fact that you missed her? Well, you still doubted about that. You always acted like you hate her and understood whatever she tried to teach you too late. Too late to say,
This was absolutely ridiculous! The argument pulled both of them into a rather awkward situation. At the moment there was a dead silence in the green room.
Mindfang kept herself busy by looking at one of the clocks in front of her as Doc Scratch kept himself occupied with a book.
A hour passed, so she could tell. Her eyes followed the arms of the clock as if they were the most interesting thing she has ever seen but it was a hard task. Her eyelids became heavier with any moment and she had to pinch herself to not fall asleep.
It was like a contest. And the loser will be the first one to break the silence or knock out.
That was a point where she almost lost but, no, she would let the silence to continue for a bit longer than expected, despite how much she wanted to talk.
Mindfang silently got up from the couch and cleared her throat, testing if it will draw the other one's attention but -- nothing! She pretty much expected it actually so there was no place for surprises.
The next thing she did was to take a seat right beside him, peeking over to see whatever he read. Well, now he was more aware of her presence and it bothered him. But not too much so he didn't make any remark even if he did plan on asking whatever was she doing.
She rolled her head on her shoulders and her cerulean-painted lips formed a smile. A bitter one.
"Please, tell me a story.", she politely requested with a soft tone, completely ignoring the fight from before as if nothing ever happened. She understood it was silly and didn't even want to overthink what was it all about. It didn't matter.
Her request, admittedly, surprised him. And the argue to tease her a bit about it was so great but, he could see that she didn't have the spirits for that nor he wanted to provoke her again - even if it might be amusing. And at the very least her request was told in a decently acceptable manner.
As he began to tell another long story she'd slowly lean against him, resting her head a little on his shoulder, drifting to the land of dreams and slumber.
It was rude, however, he didn't disturb her sleep.
He saw through her movements and elegantly kept up with her, even though her steps were faster than the normal tempo. It was as if she wished to compete him.
How immature.
She should have realized that long time ago but no, she was way too much stubborn to accept things the way they are.
Stomp.
Both of them ceased dancing suddenly.
Unfortunately he slowed down and the woman took adventage of this. Her red-shoe rested on the back of his own white one. Obviously that she planned to stomp on his foot all along, why her movements were so rushy to start with.
A smile smeared upon the cerulean lips of the female and she tilted her head to the side, breathing heavily. Moving so fast for quite a long while managed to drain a lot of her power but she was pleased that she 'won' the contest.
"I told you to keep up with me."
She removed her hand from his shoulder and yanked her hand from his. Scratch merely stood there and sighed silently.
What a bothersome lady.
Once she removed her foot from his he replied to her,
"So I did. You can not blame me if your leg slipped there, miss Spinneret."
She frowned at his remark. She could have argued with him day and night with having the smallest chance of winning. The only times she felt good was when she managed to surprise that man. However, even those times didn't last for too long.
Mindfang crossed her arms upon her chest, giving the other a bitter and disgusted expression.
"No, you slowed do-" "My deepest apologies for interrupting you in the middle of your speech but you were the one who rushed to start with. And you know it very well yourself, young lady."
After pointing it out he crossed his arms behind his back, his gaze stayed fixed at her, awaiting for the expected outcome. As Scratch knew, saying it would annoy her. Most of things he usually say do the same effect.
And certainly, she was annoyed. This man got on her nerves in any way possible.
He was so calm and collected, no matter what she did to him, no matter how she treated him, nothing.
She heard that another protege of his got punished endlessly due to her behaviour. Why doesn't he punish her too? There was no use for whatever she did and it wasn't the first time she tried.
Visiting at the manor turned her almost into a regular guest, and that was the way she was always being treated in. Just another guest, nothing more than that.
But it wasn't enough for her and she craved for something she could never get from him.
More attention.
A different sort of relationship.
Scratch was clearly not interested in this sort of suggestion. Each time that she'd bring up this topic he'd find creative ways to shake her off. And he knew that her proud nature won't let go off of the topic so easily.
She had her eyes on him. She wanted him. And she didn't plan on giving up and stopping until he'd return those black feelings.
Pitiful that such thing will never occur.
Unlike the men she played with before he was different. Much different.
Usually anyone would have given in with her beauty and charm but in other cases of resistance it wasn't a problem to put them under a spell of manipulation. And because it was so easy to charm them, she got bored with them rather quickly.
Sticking up to only one made things interesting. She believed that somebody like him would make a fair optional kismesis.
But no. The other, didn't have any wish to fill a quadrant. He even wasn't a troll but a servant.
Lord English came first, and then came the latter.
Developing any sort of emotions would only make his job more difficult, why he avoided getting too attached to anyone.
There was a rather awkward silence until she broke it,
"I hate you."
"I know."
"Why won't you hate me too? Do I have to dominate chaos all over the place so you would feel the same way?"
"That will be necessary because I hate you too, platonically."
Reason why you shouldn't raise your hopes up when you speak to somebody of his kind - he will break them down like a twig a moment after.
Mindfang grit her teeth, one of her eye twitched. Really? God darn he was an annoying bastard.
"I believe the conversation is ove-"
"No. I'm not done yet."
He quirked an eyebrow and looked at her, wondering whatever she had to add. He knew that she spineless and sometimes, admittedly, she could surprise him.
"Yes?"
He waited, patiently. Like he would normally do.
Mindfang stepped towards him, her heels making faint noises that got mixed along with the sound of ticking clocks around them.
Once she faced him, she looked directly into his eyes, searching aimlessly for some emotion; be it hatred or... anything. Anything will do.
Spending a few more moments gazing at him without saying anything her lips ghosted upon his but no, she didn't kiss him.
She rested her head upon one of his shoulders.
She hated him for plenty of reasons. One of them was that he made her feel somewhat warm and yet, cold. Like a child she would hope for a comfort from this man in front of her. Although per usual, she wouldn't get anything of this sort.
Maybe that was her punishment.
Not getting any sort of remarkable attention.
Correct, she was mad and she looked pathetic. She was tired of everything.
With her last powers she'd throw a lame, weak punch into his chest.
He didn't stop her, knowing that this will have no effect on him but would help her slightly to ease her emotions.
