Endgame: This is the Way the World Ends - MACHINE ROOM

[animusmods]

Characters: open to those staying in the machine room
Setting: machine room
Format: any
Summary: The time has come to make decisions about what will happen after everything is over.
Warnings: psychological horror (eventually)

Comments

[athousandcurses]

I take very badly to people pulling my hair.

[A small smile appears on her face.]

My geis spell is only one of a number of things I can do with it.

[bowandblade]

I would think so, unless you are the most inept Caster to ever be summoned.

[Really, he wasn't controlled for that long. If he had felt particularly murderous, she would be standing in a different wireframe body right about now.]

[athousandcurses]

The how and why of my summoning and the details of my powers were beyond my control. Never the less...

[She turns slightly to better see him, a cold look on her face.]

A persistent drop of water can still kill a man.

[bowandblade]

[He smirks as she turns, a hand reaching up to grasp her chin despite the expression on her face.]

Yes, yes. And so can a bubble of air. Or a tiny pebble.

Boring deaths.

[athousandcurses]

Less so than stabbing someone with a blade.

[It's a quick counter, and she pulls her chin away.]

I have seen too much of that in life.

[bowandblade]

[And here comes that persistence, as he's right back there again, hand ready to grasp her chin.]

Yet you will fight rather than sit and wait for the end.

[athousandcurses]

[She would turn away to look into the dark room, but this time she doesn't avoid him. Her expression softens a little.]

I go in place of the children who can not.

[bowandblade]

Because you now speak for the children.

[Briefly, his eyes flit in the direction of Zo. There was one child who was going, one way or another.

He adjusts his grip to run his thumb across the edge of her lower lip, once more displeased by the sight of their wireframe bodies. Simply looking at Grainne was like looking through layers of plastic.]

[athousandcurses]

[That prompts her to break his hold, turning her head away.]

No. I wouldn't speak for them.

[For some reason, she looks distinctly uncomfortable with his closeness now.]

[bowandblade]

[He clucks his tongue once, but doesn't pursue again; he's already shifting his feet to walk away.]

So be it. Say your farewells.