(no subject)

[athousandcurses]

Characters: Grainne and you!
Setting: Floor 3, Floor 55, Floor 86 and 1-17, April 3rd
Format: Either or!
Summary: After hiding during all the commotion, Grainne ventures out of her room for longer than a few hours and gets into trouble.
Warnings: Blood and slightly carnivorous plants, Irish cursing and some general NSFW in one thread (it's marked)

Floor Three

She had been in the Tower for weeks now, rarely venturing out of her room when everything shut down and she saw her true form for the first time. She had been warned, but it was still a shock to see the fluid inside her wire frame.

With her powers gone, she felt helpless and stayed out of the way, and it's a fair thing to say she had no idea what was going on. Hilda had disappeared before hearing any word from her, and it left Grainne with nothing but an empty spot in the pit of her stomach. She felt a sort of kinship to the Princess, having arrived at roughly the same time and knowing little to nothing about the place. She worried for her, but there again was nothing she could do without her Servant status. Grainne was no fighter and she could not even use the knife in her trunk properly to defend herself... her Noble Phantasm knife was inaccessible and did not require anything but getting shoved into a body to work.

If only she hadn't taken that advice to try to get her 'real' powers back. She would not be helpless now... and she did not think her powers are going to be returning any time soon, if ever.

Well, helpless in battle and certainly against the monsters that roam the place, but maybe not useless entirely. The few times she went out, she tried to make a stop each time to gather materials to hand stitch some clothes... even with so few months left, she should have a few pieces done in a day or two.

Today, she was out of her room for a reason other than food, grooming, or sewing. During her first life she had heard stories from bards and well traveled men of a place filled with all the knowledge of the world in it, and while she never got to visit that great place in life, the library held a certain allure to her. Exploring this floor a little, she stumbled on instruction manuals for something called "knitting" and "crochet"... the former of which looked an awful lot like nålebinding and something Grainne had excelled at in her first life.

Taking an entire stack of the books, she sat down at a table to read for a while. As she made progress through her stack, she tucked some into her bag for later.

---

Floor Fifty Five

After her stop in the library, Grainne got on with business. It hadn't just been a visit to the library she came out today. With how things have turned out, the reminders of the past in her trunk only get more painful each time she got inside it to choose a button, a thread color, or to retrieve a project. The smell of the pouch haunted her while she worked, clinging to the garments for hours on end. She could not bear it any longer, and had gathered the items given to her on her arrival into a bag she made for herself before she ventured out. It was time to move on, and she would; with a fierce determination.

She isn't sure how she found this floor, and in fact she couldn't really remember exploring here except for seeing the flames from the stair case on one of her initial walks about the Tower. She stood there in front of the incinerator, feeling the heat wash uncomfortably over her body, and for a moment she stared into the flames, reminded of other times in front of bonfires and celebrations during the holidays. Beltane would be soon... and she was sure nobody but her remembered. In a way, this could almost be considered a celebration. She has the fire and the smoke, and in a way what she had planned could be thought of as being purified of the past...

Shaking those thoughts off, she pulled out the pouch first, frowning at the decorated fabric. One of the first things she had made after she married, filled with flowers that grew around their home every year. It's only made of film, she told herself. Not even real. And neither were the memories it brought back. In it went, bursting into flames and disintegrating within moments. Next came the knife with the sheath, made and given to her by her sons as a present. This time a tug of sorrow pulled at her heart when it went inside, going almost as fast as the pouch did.

She hesitated at the carved comb though, holding it in her hand and running her fingers over the figures in the wood. Another memento of her first life, but one that came much later... the cranky old man had made it for her one winter, whiling away the time in front of the fire. She had been impressed by his skill, but age had dulled her eyes and she never realized how much work he had truly put into it. If this is anything like the original she once carried, that is...

She swallowed once, wrapping her fingers over it tightly. Perhaps it had been the only time of her life that had been true. Maybe not entirely happy or worry free, but comfortable, and filled with companionship and good people. Good years that someone could be proud of. Remembering them now, those years seem more precious...

Letting out a breath, she tucked the comb back into her bag and turned to leave.

---

Floor Eighty-Six


This floor looked like an innocent enough meadow to Grainne when she first stepped on to explore. If it was one less traveled than the one in the lower Tower, it would be a nice place to sit and relax for her, without getting interrupted every five minutes. Her first thought had been she could do some sewing or something with yarn here, and in fact she got so absorbed for a moment she hadn't seen the mushrooms half hidden by grass as they were.

It was a foolish mistake and she would have immediately left if she saw them, but as it was, it was too late as she had already intruded into a ring, and paid the price. For some reason, the Queen had seen fit to spare her life, and terrified as she was Grainne wasn't going to question it, but the Fair One might as well have killed her because this was much, much worse...

Not far from the staircase and covered in vines, Grainne laid pinned to the ground, too scared to call out and prevented from struggling by the thick thorns that coated every inch of the vines. She already had deep scratches all along the length of her body, and holes torn in her clothes and blood soiling the cloth. She knew she had to escape or she would die here, stripped of her powers as she was. Why did she even think that exploring is a good idea?

---

Room 1-17


Grainne sat on her bed, looking at her clothes in despair and tears stung her eyes. If her powers were working, she would have healed by now, but a thousand thorns had done their damage and she ached, and was sore. The brief shower she took to sooth them hadn't worked, but at least it washed off the blood. With her clothes damaged, she wore her white bodysuit and coat, as that seemed to have suffered the least.

Still, she had thread and there was no reason she couldn't get the blood out. Getting blood out of clothing seemed to be her lot in her first life, it shouldn't be a problem. Holding up her white summer dress, she made a note of how many places she would have to mend, and then let it drop to the floor, feeling exhausted.


Workshop April 12th


With her new roommates, Grainne has been seeking out alternative places to sit and work quietly. Today it's the workshop, mercifully empty for the moment, and a good opportunity to try and fix the comb that had broken over a week ago.

Looking at the comb hurt, reminding her of every terrible detail of that day. Not what it should remind her of. That by itself made her angry and resentful. That is why she was trying to glue the broken teeth back to the body, and not doing too good of a job with it. The comb was so delicately carved it made re-affixing the teeth difficult, and then the glue was slow drying, so whenever she thought it would work, they sagged and slowly fell off.

Comments

floor 3

[fionnuisce]

[Recent days had left Waver both exhausted and slightly overwhelmed--there was a lot of information for him to process before he breathed so much as a word to anyone other than Diarmuid. It was practically a given this would lead to an infiltration, so he'd need to await Aria's report as well. This was not exactly the social revolution he had always hoped for back at the Clock Tower; no, this was much more pressuring. If this failed, Waver was aware they could just lose the only solid chance he knew of to restore their homeworlds.]

[For now, he just needed to step back and breathe. Concentrate on something else for a few hours before he drove himself out of his mind making sure every last detail was in place. There would be time enough for that, even if time was the most pressing of their limited resources.]

...Do you mind if I sit here?

[As far as distractions went, Waver was aware he could do worse than a hardcover book in his hand and a Servant he knew he'd need to speak to anyway.]

[athousandcurses]

[Grainne almost drops the book she's rifling through, definitely not expecting that voice, much less him asking to sit.

After a moment letting her heart calm down, she shakes her head wordlessly. No, she doesn't mind... though she figures wishing he actually doesn't want to talk is probably too much to ask for.]

[fionnuisce]

[Waver was at the very least quiet, waiting a moment before speaking in what must have been as few words as possible.]

I got your message. I can assure you it'll be taken care of to the best of my ability.

[athousandcurses]

[Closing the book, she sets it back on the stack and rests her hands in her lap for a moment.]

Thank you.

[What more can she say?]

[fionnuisce]

[That was the real question on both sides; while Waver had recognized the two of them had a lot to discuss, he had failed to consider where to start or what to say.]

I think it likely we, er...started off on something of a sour note when last we met. Now that the initial shock and resulting mess has been largely put aside to my knowledge, perhaps we could attempt to find a more reasonable starting point?

Floor Fifty Five

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid spots Grainne as he is passing by the floor during one of his patrols. Immediately, he is both curious and concerned as to why she is lingering so near the incinerator. His first thought is to just straight out ask her what is going on, but his own doubts and worries silence his voice. Things have gone so badly each time they have met no matter how hard he has tried, and he doesn't have to have been married to her to know that she will be angry that he left her room like he did after promising to stay. Would explaining it was the illness influencing his thoughts help any? There really is no way to know and that dilemma is pushed from Diarmuid's mind for the moment when he realizes what she is doing.

Why is she burning all of her things? It is true they aren't real, but they should still give her some comfort, shouldn't they? Yes...it's her right in the end to do it, but Diarmuid can't help but almost reach out to stop her anyway when the pouch then the knife go into the fire. The comb...

...she saves and he doesn't recognize it. What does that mean and why is something suddenly squeezing so painfully in his chest?]

Something you got after my death I take it?

[The words come out just as she starts to turn around so it's debatable what will startle her more--the fact that he is standing there watching or the fact that he has spoken...]

[athousandcurses]

[For a silent, startled moment, Grainne is cursing that she couldn't sense his presence. Just how long has he been standing there? Why wouldn't he say anything? A brief second where she's tempted to just ignore him and his question passes, but...

Letting out a soft breath, she lowers her gazes.]

Yes. A long time after.

[Without volunteering any explanation or further info, she starts to walk by him.]

[oathshackledbird]

[The knowledge that she values something she got after he died more than she values those things from him and the children causes a chill to settle into Diarmuid that even the heat of the incinerator can't erase. However, before he can think long on this, she starts to leave and that...that he can't let happen.

He starts to reach out to grab her arm, but something keeps him from making contact. She obviously wants nothing more to do with him. Does he really have any right to stop her?]

Aren't you tired of running Grainne? You know as well as I do that we need to talk. To really talk without illness, shock, and assumption clouding our minds...

[athousandcurses]

[She steps back, avoiding his grasp almost automatically, but she stops as he wanted anyway.

Turning angry eyes on him, Grainne stares, a thousand things she wants to say turning around in her mind and not any of them pleasant. As tempting as giving in to that side of her is, she tears away and presses her lips together for a moment.]

We do not need to talk. Everything that could be said has been said and I was within my rights to break the marriage. I gave you back everything I could that is yours. Now leave me be.

[oathshackledbird]

Why?

[Diarmuid isn't sure what it is about her reaction that makes him so angry, but the sudden chill he was feeling is replaced by a wave of heat perhaps even stronger than what is coming from the floor. He turns, back to the incinerator, so he can look at her more directly. His hands curl into fists at his side and, though his voice is calm, the same heat he is feeling burn through him is burning in his eyes.]

Tell me why you lied to me about hating me and then I will let you go forever, because it looks like you do hate me despite what you said at our first meeting. The fact that you seem to value nothing from your time with me and the children and are so willing to throw it away is proof of that.

Room 1-17

[lorule]

After the little trip outside the tower, Hilda had taken a few days to recover. But only a few days. The deadline was growing ever closer and she needed to speak with what few allies she had in the tower. About what she had seen and found outside, about what to do. The network was unreliable for communications, or so she had been said. But thankfully she didn't need it when she could speak through telepathy.

Even over two weeks after having switched the collar fluid, her barriers were still weak and she still didn't have access to her teleportation powers. But at the very least, her telepathic abilities had been restored to their full potential. Needless to say, she had no idea what had just happened to Grainne or what state she was in. It took her some time to establish a link. But as soon as this was done, she tried speaking--

"Lady Grainne?" The voice would resonate as if it came out of nowhere, speaking directly in the mind. "Can you hear me?"

[athousandcurses]

Grainne sat up on her bed, snapped out of her exhaustion by sheer surprise. It was Hilda's voice, but it shouldn't be possible because of how human she is right now...

"Lady Hilda?" She asks, standing up and moving to the door to peer outside in case she had merely stood outside the door. "Where are you? How are you speaking to me?"

[lorule]

Peering outside would reveal nothing aside from any eventual passersby. Yet Hilda's voice remained as clear as if she was standing next to Grainne.

"Did I startle you? I am sorry." Her voice abruptly grew lower before going back to normal, probably as a side-effect of her power still being unstable "I am speaking to you by means of telepathy. I am currently in the dormitory floors and was hoping we could meet soon."

[athousandcurses]

"Telepathy..." Grainne mutters under her breath. That explains a lot, and it eases her a little since it isn't her going crazy, either. "Yes, I am there too. Where are you? My room is on the... first one. Seventeen. There is nobody else here, if you wanted privacy."

Of course, it might look a little crazy with her talking to herself like this, but considering the strange things in this place she couldn't really care less.

[lorule]

"Thank you. I am on the upper floor, I shall be there shortly." And indeed it took her only a few minutes to get there. And as soon she got there, she saw that something was terribly wrong with Grainne and rushed to her side.

"L-- What happened to you?"

floor 86

[puppy_lancer]

[Lancer is leading Liath Macha out for a spin when he catches sight of the abnormal vines spouting from floor 86, and the figure of the woman almost buried in them. He rides Liath Macha over on the floor, making the horse stop before she can run into the vine.]

Hey, what happened? Are you alright?

[Without even checking to see who the woman is, He rushes over to try and clear away some of the vines.]

[athousandcurses]

[Freedom from the vines are something of a relief, even though the wounds they left stung fiercely. Grainne turns her head slightly, trying to see the would-be rescuer. At least she recognizes his voice.]

I stepped into their home by accident... I did not know they were there. Is that you, Lord Hound?

[puppy_lancer]

Their?

[He frowns and tries to remember what creatures made their home here.]

You mean the fairies?

[He yanks up another chunk of vine and tosses it away.]

No need to be so formal--

[He gets a closer look at Grainne's face.]

L-lady Grainne?

[Ever since he learned she was his sister-in-law, he felt awkward about flirting with her when they first met.]

[athousandcurses]

I am very lucky they only left me like this, I suppose...

[Grainne blinks gray eyes through the vines, trying to shifting her head. The pain makes her stop, though.]

It is me, but if I can't be formal, neither can you.

[puppy_lancer]

...It's not as silly as getting animals ears and a tail.

[He quickly shakes his head.]

Hey, you're my older brother's wife. I need to respect you, don't I?

...And on that note, sorry about...the first time we met.

Workshop April 12th

[oathshackledbird]

[It's been a while since Diarmuid has been a regular visitor to the workshop. Once Waver made his swords for him, he had less reason to be there and had been training several people, so his attention had been elsewhere. However, after Rick's death, he finds himself needing something to distract him. What better time to work on the shattered harp that Grainne returned to him?

Of course, Grainne is the last person he expects to see there when he arrives at the workshop like he has for the last few days. Diarmuid almost walks out again, the whole mess in the ballroom still fresh in his mind. Still, when he sees how frustrated she is at what she is working on, he can't help but pause.

It's his fault that the comb is broken in the first place.]

They aren't strong enough to stay on their own with just glue, are they? Have you tried strengthening them with some metal pins?

[athousandcurses]

[His voice startles her, jumping slightly. It isn't enough to drop the comb, but it does disturb her latest attempt at replacing a tooth.

She's really starting to wish all of her powers were back... she had gotten too absorbed in her repairs to notice. So much for leaving it to fate.]

No...

[The response is automatic, as she starts gathering her things together and placing them in her bag to leave. If he needs the workshop, she wasn't going to stay and bother him.]

[oathshackledbird]

Don't leave. If my presence bothers you so much, I will come back to work at a different time.

[Diarmuid sets his things to the side for a moment, selecting several metal pins that look like they will fit into the teeth of the comb. He then sets them near where she is working.]

Use them. Work one into the base of each broken tooth, glue it and then slide the other part over the top. It will take some work to get the sizes right, but once fitted and glued, it will be stronger than it was before.

[That done, he gathers his things back into his arms and turns to leave the floor.]

[athousandcurses]

[Grainne turns around in her seat to look after him, frowning. She almost lets him go, knowing it will be better for both of them. But if that is true, why did he even talk to her?]

Why... why are you helping me?

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid pauses, but doesn't turn back to her.]

I've made mistakes and hurt you. Isn't that reason enough?

Besides, you went to so much effort to send me that picture. I will never be able to thank you enough for that.