she died. she's contemplating it as they sit: the cold stone beneath her, wet with her blood. the bruises across her skin from fighting off orin. the broken bones, the empty veins. life seeping out, quite literally, at bhaal's request. she died, and all she could think about as she did-- not the pain, but the absence of it. that was the end, and she felt… content. she had no plans of getting back up, nor did she feel inclined to keep on going. she would regret a few things, certainly, but anyone with half a life would have those.
instead of hoping for survival, she counted down the few breaths she was taking, hoping to stumble upon the last one.
then came the mouthful of air, the burning throat… well, that had brought more panic. peaceful oblivion given up for? what? she was angry, angry for being saved and angry that the gods would still fight over broken bones. withers had explained, since then, that talos' creature could not die: the destructive energy within her needed her body, or it would annihilate everything else.
it is fitting, she thinks, for her to be a prisoner of time. there would be no peace. not for her, at least. in some ways, she supposes she deserves such a punishment, though withers doesn't consider it one.
@mis-timed (gale) said : i never had the courage to ask you if you'd kiss me.
she is lost in her thought, but such a statement is enough to bring her back. glowing blue eyes rise from the ground to meet gale's. "you thought it best to wait until i died, uh?", she asks as she playfully pushes her shoulder against his. the world is ending, and she will see the other side of it whether she wants to or not. but him… he could die tomorrow, or overmorrow, and she would be left thinking of this moment.
she moves swiftly, tipping on her knees in front of him so they are both the same height; him sitting, her with her back at the fire they lit some time ago. she grins, a predator who hopes to find a willing prey, as she lets her fingertips retrace the energy coursing through his veins. the blue lines of it, from his eye to the open v of his tunic. there, she presses her hand down. his heart is beating fast, and she is wonderfully happy for it, though you will not catch her admit to such a thing.
"can i? kiss you? it was on my list of regrets, i'd love to cross it off.", she says. she isn't sure she has ever been this polite; certainly hasn't been with past bedmates. but this is important; this is something she intends to keep.
