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In Which Rose Is Between A Rock And A Hard Place
She had managed to squeeze herself into a crevice; she stood there, hardly able to breathe, feeling the grazes on her skin from the cold rock, not breathing or blinking or hardly anything in the hopes that if she didn't, the prowling cyclops in the corridor would not get her.
Not just any cyclops, of course. Never just any cyclops.
Polyphemus -
- no, she tried to argue with herself. You're seeing things. He's dead, you know he's dead. Jonas killed him a long while ago. You're seeing things, you're seeing things, you're -
Little fool, the voice inside her head said, and she stood even more stock-still with fear. The voice was familiar and it was pitying and it was not at all kind. Still the little fool after all this time. I always said you were unworthy of me.
Not now, Rose begged mentally. I don't need you. Not now.
So what do you propose to do, h'n? Sit here and shiver it to death?
Blinky watched the howling pace of the cyclops as it passed by the crack, again and again, sniffing; the sight of it was not so good, but eventually it would smell Rose's fear, all heavy-palpable like plant rot. The bloodied shape of it did not register within the Grimorum of Ages' crimson eye.
Whatever it was, it was sapping Rose more and more every time it passed. I want to die. I want to get out of this place. It feels like a coffin in here. Oh, Goddess, I want to die. Let me die.
You wretch. You've never had the decency to want to die. You sit in your little house in this filthy gods-damned city with your vegetable bakes pretending that you were never who you were. You never died. You gave yourself up to the hand that robbed the cradle like a virgin captured in battle rather than die. You put yourself past the enemy rather than die. Pathetic, pathetic little coward. Manlike in your crawling.
Diana, go away!
I hope you do die here, like a rat. A fitting ending for you. Pah!
A little sob caught in her throat, more from excessive and unnatural fear than from the voice in her head's harsh words; those were familiar, and the Citadel was not. Everything here smelt like death. Part of her was a wild animal, wanting to break out of the walls and dive down to the icy chasm deep below, just to make the low thudding in her head stop.
The cyclops paused; his head turned to the crack as he sniffed hideously. Deeply demoralized as he stuck one clawed hand into the crack to scrabble at her, Rose screamed -
- and Blinky flew up like an avenging book-angel to sucker on to his face, an inevitable vaccuum drawing from him to the cyclops' one eye. The Grimorum of Ages flicked through time; the Eye remembered a life ago when it had been broken by Odysseus' fire-sharpened stick, and burst open once more as Blinky fell to the floor, only just missing the hail of blackened goo and hot blood.
Now, you little fool!
Rose shouted incoherently, words she hadn't spoken in years, and pushed herself out the hole. Warmth ran up her body, like her veins had just been toasted, sizzling through her fingertips; she and Diana Joined, all silk and pearls and butterfly wings and the moon that floated frosty over the mountains, and rained white-cold death to the vision that had already died.
Who disappeared. He had never been anything more than an illusion. Rose was Rose again as she slithered to the floor, pearls bouncing like bits of hard hail, pulling Blinky to her as she pressed her back against the wall. She was too tired. She hadn't expended that kind of energy in years; it brought all of it back, all the old pain, like a lump in her throat.
She was very tired now. She was going to sit here, she decided, and if she died she died. No more voices, no more illusions, just the mind-numbing fatigue.
Em, where are you?
</center>In Which Rose Is Between A Rock And A Hard Place
She had managed to squeeze herself into a crevice; she stood there, hardly able to breathe, feeling the grazes on her skin from the cold rock, not breathing or blinking or hardly anything in the hopes that if she didn't, the prowling cyclops in the corridor would not get her.
Not just any cyclops, of course. Never just any cyclops.
Polyphemus -
- no, she tried to argue with herself. You're seeing things. He's dead, you know he's dead. Jonas killed him a long while ago. You're seeing things, you're seeing things, you're -
Little fool, the voice inside her head said, and she stood even more stock-still with fear. The voice was familiar and it was pitying and it was not at all kind. Still the little fool after all this time. I always said you were unworthy of me.
Not now, Rose begged mentally. I don't need you. Not now.
So what do you propose to do, h'n? Sit here and shiver it to death?
Blinky watched the howling pace of the cyclops as it passed by the crack, again and again, sniffing; the sight of it was not so good, but eventually it would smell Rose's fear, all heavy-palpable like plant rot. The bloodied shape of it did not register within the Grimorum of Ages' crimson eye.
Whatever it was, it was sapping Rose more and more every time it passed. I want to die. I want to get out of this place. It feels like a coffin in here. Oh, Goddess, I want to die. Let me die.
You wretch. You've never had the decency to want to die. You sit in your little house in this filthy gods-damned city with your vegetable bakes pretending that you were never who you were. You never died. You gave yourself up to the hand that robbed the cradle like a virgin captured in battle rather than die. You put yourself past the enemy rather than die. Pathetic, pathetic little coward. Manlike in your crawling.
Diana, go away!
I hope you do die here, like a rat. A fitting ending for you. Pah!
A little sob caught in her throat, more from excessive and unnatural fear than from the voice in her head's harsh words; those were familiar, and the Citadel was not. Everything here smelt like death. Part of her was a wild animal, wanting to break out of the walls and dive down to the icy chasm deep below, just to make the low thudding in her head stop.
The cyclops paused; his head turned to the crack as he sniffed hideously. Deeply demoralized as he stuck one clawed hand into the crack to scrabble at her, Rose screamed -
- and Blinky flew up like an avenging book-angel to sucker on to his face, an inevitable vaccuum drawing from him to the cyclops' one eye. The Grimorum of Ages flicked through time; the Eye remembered a life ago when it had been broken by Odysseus' fire-sharpened stick, and burst open once more as Blinky fell to the floor, only just missing the hail of blackened goo and hot blood.
Now, you little fool!
Rose shouted incoherently, words she hadn't spoken in years, and pushed herself out the hole. Warmth ran up her body, like her veins had just been toasted, sizzling through her fingertips; she and Diana Joined, all silk and pearls and butterfly wings and the moon that floated frosty over the mountains, and rained white-cold death to the vision that had already died.
Who disappeared. He had never been anything more than an illusion. Rose was Rose again as she slithered to the floor, pearls bouncing like bits of hard hail, pulling Blinky to her as she pressed her back against the wall. She was too tired. She hadn't expended that kind of energy in years; it brought all of it back, all the old pain, like a lump in her throat.
She was very tired now. She was going to sit here, she decided, and if she died she died. No more voices, no more illusions, just the mind-numbing fatigue.
Em, where are you?
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