Ap0calypse Arisen

The smile persists, even if its a bit weak. “I’ll do everything I can, you can trust me on that much. I don’t know where exactly that will land me, but…” She sighs, shakily so. Her stomach’s been twisting and her lungs feel like every breath stretches them so thin they’ll just collapse. But she can moan and sob and hurt later, when the work is done and all is taken care of.

It might be some time before that, though.

“I have to be quite honest with you Aradia, not just because you’re my sister, but because you deserve the truth.” Her gaze drops, taking a slow, deep breath before staring down at her hands, her bare ring finger. “I don’t have much to fear these days. A lot of things have been taken from me in the most sudden of ways, so sudden and without explanation that I’ve been struggling to fix it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to rectify it, really. It……. would be nice to have something to dedicate myself to. And you’re my family for Lord’s sake. I don’t see a better purpose to fight for than that.”

Her hand flexes, curls and stretches again, before she covers it with her other one. Looking back up with a more genuine grin this time. “I just hope your family will cooperate. I don’t blame them for not wanting anything to do with me right now. But It doesn’t matter, I’ll get through to them somehow. Is there anything only you would know that I could relay to them? Uh, that you’re comfortable with, of course.”

You are hit full force with a wave sadness when you watch her. She looks so lost and you wish you could change that. You reach out to touch her, comfort her, before you think better of it. You don’t think you can touch her anyways.

There is time for embraces if...when you are back. 

“I’d really rather not see you put yourself into harms way because of me... but you are, and I’m thankful for that. More than words can reliably express. I couldn’t ask for a better family.”

That is true for her and your family with the Crew, even if these two aspects of your family bonds may not mix too well. There’s plenty of time to dwell on that thought later as well. 

Her next question has you knit your brows in thought. Something only you know? Of course there’s official Crew business you know about but... They’d probably only get violent when someone wearing green brings that sort of thing up.

She mulls over her words, for about… the fifth time. Breathing slow and thoughtful, deliberate. Almost labored. “Your father is a good man. I’ve always liked him, regardless of faction and the woes that come with it.” She winces to herself. “I always forgave him, at least. Maybe not for his crimes against the others, but. He was your father. And… I never wanted to sever that connection.”

Another sigh. “But he’s also someone very… formidable. In the kindest of words. I wouldn’t wish to ever truly incur his wrath. Slick is outwardly angry, abrasive and sharp- but Droog… waits. Droog simmers and plots and… fuck.” Another moment of rubbing at her face. “This is so bad,” she whines. “I don’t agree with what’s transpired but I don’t want a bloody goddamn WAR over it either!”

She almost falls backwards, though remembers the books preventing such and simply huffs into the palm of her hands, craning her head back before hunching back over and beginning to type out a message.

“You’re my sister, Aradia. I never got to be a prominent part of your life, or shelter you from any storm. But. I want to do what I can, and I always will. I know Death might not fancy me too much for avoiding him, much as it’s not my choice. But I would hope he’d agree with me on this one. You don’t deserve this fate.”

She’s quiet for some time, fingers tapping away at something that needed be worded very… very carefully. And when she’s finally done, she looks back up to her sister with a sigh, and then a light, if forced, smile. “We’ll figure this out. I promise. In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to stay here. I don’t think Lord English will be visiting the manor for at least another millennia.”

“Trace is the one who started a war. Sure, there has been a feud. There has been bloodshed. But no one died. This though... There’s no doubt in my mind that they are already plotting for revenge, and it won’t be pretty. Dad won’t care for any consequences... So.”

You sigh heavily. You aren’t tired exactly, you aren’t sure if you can be anymore. Exhausted doesn’t quite fit the bill either. You don’t want war either. You do want for Trace to bleed, but you keep that to yourself. War though? There’s only going to be pain and suffering on both sides.

Granted, you really only care about your sister in this mansion, but this isn’t important.

“Here’s hoping he’s going to listen to you... But I do think so. Perhaps it will prevent a even bigger disaster.”

You smile at her, and you hope she can see it. It’s not the nice sisterly bonding you had been hoping for, but it’s something. Not everyone can say they can count on their relatives even in death, right?

“Understandably so,” Handy mutters from betwixt her fingers. “Death should be something that comes naturally, or when necessary. This is neither.” Not that it means much coming from a murderer, a demoness. But hypocrisy runs wild in this city anyhow.

The Handmaid stares lengthily at the ghostly apparition of her sister- dull, lifeless, devoid of the color and brightness she brought to a conversation. Before, It was palpable even through a screen- now the lack of it in person made her feel uneasy. “There are ways,” she finally surrenders the words she’d been chewing on. “They are not easy, and they are not without risk.” She swallows hard, and wonders if Aradia can feel the shift in her mood as the last few words trickle out, quiet and full of hurt. “I did it for my fiance once. When he was still here.”

Her other free hand rises to paw at her face, scrubbing away her expression and the tug of tears welling up in her eyes. A deep breath, and she’s better, sitting up straight and composed once more. “I don’t know if I can bring you back by those same methods though. You’re here, in spirit. I would hope that means half of the process is done but… I’m not so certain. The bubbles are far different than anything you or I deal with by our caste’s nature alone.”

She shifts, procuring a phone from her thigh highs and fiddling with it in her hands a moment. “Do you want me to let him know, at least? That you’re here? That you want to talk?” A quick huff, almost a sigh. “I like to think that we’re still on good terms. Maybe he’ll be willing.”

“Your...Fiance?” Your words are quiet, more to yourself than for her ears.

You feel like you should know about that perhaps, but you can’t quite place it. Considering the nature of this conversation though, it’s obviously not a happy memory for her. You decide not to ask.  

Aradia can’t see it (or maybe she can, the afterlife is pretty nifty) but the Handmaid runs through quite a few different faces of consideration, confusion, frustration. “He wouldn’t,” she attempts to convince herself out loud. “Why WOULD he? That’s so stupid, he’d be causing a war.”

She lets loose a weary sigh, pushing up off the ground and rising to her feet… only to plop back down on her bed to face her sister. Looking her up and down as if someone kicked her puppy into the sun. Or, y’know, stabbed her only true flesh and blood. Same thing really. And that’s without knowing how bad the scene at the funeral home was.

“You know,” Handy begins, threading her fingers together in her lap only to nervously wring them. “I always knew this day would come. We out of all the castes aren’t meant for a long life and, despite my exception, I… well, as you said. This is simply how it is. I guess I’m just not used to it being so personal of nature.”

Her mouth purses, scrunches and twists with the rest of her face as she wrestled with the right words. “Aradia. How do you want me to go about this? I know we do this so often but it doesn’t make it easier. What if your family isn’t ready to hear? What if-” she huffs, brow furrowing. “What if they aren’t willing to listen to me? If what you say is true the last thing they may want to see right now is green.”

“Because he is stupid. Because he wanted my father to suffer, no matter what. I don’t have any deeper insight into his thought process than anyone else, but that would be my guesses on it.”

You can see her alright, more clearly than everything else that is. Everything appears to be shrouded in a thick fog but it’s much easier to see your sister. Is that why ghosts seek you out? Perhaps. You don’t care to explore this train of thought any further right now. 

“It’s funny you know. I thought I‘d be okay with this, exactly because of that. We aren’t meant to live long.” You laugh, but there’s no humor there. “I knew my time would run out. But this? I am not okay with this.”

You know she can’t return the dead though. But just talking to your family would be enough for now.

“Oh, they know. They know I’m dead. They know you can talk to the dead. I’m sure dad would be willing to hear you out. Though I suppose...Contacting him in person wouldn’t be the best idea at this point in time.”

You sigh heavily. 

Of course you knew it would happen one day, everybody dies. And you knew your time was even more limited than everyone else’s. And yet... You find yourself hating this. A lot.

It wasn’t your time. Death himself told you as much. That in itself should be reassuring but instead you are growing more and more restless by the minute. No amount of board games and delicious tea could ease this feeling. 

But you know there’s one who person who just might. One other person in this city unfortunate to hear the voices of the recently deceased. Your sister. The handmaid. If nothing else she should be able to help you to talk to your family. 

Finding her isn’t a hard task at all, even if the Felt mansion is the last place you’d want to be in. Thankfully, it’s not like anyone else is going to notice you. No one except for your sister. 

You aren’t sure how to start this conversation so you just go with the first thing that pops up in your head. Your voice sounds so calm, it surprises you. You thought you would be bubbling with anger instead.

[pvt]

its 0kay

i mean its really n0t 0kay but theres n0thing i can d0 

s0 it has t0 be 0kay i supp0se 0_0

i just h0pe dad is d0ing alright

and the 0thers 0f c0urse but

he f0und my b0dy after all

[pvt]

thats me

unf0rtunately i appear t0 be rather... dead at this p0int in time

its funny isnt it? i th0ught id be 0kay with dying

but it turns 0ut im very very n0t 0kay with it

ir0nic

d0 y0u think dave w0uld get a kick 0ut 0f that? pr0bably n0t 

n0t his brand 0f hum0r 0r ir0ny f0r that matter

well

at the very least i can say death makes excellent tea s0 theres that

im n0t quite as f0nd 0f the b0ard games but what can y0u d0?

n0thing apparently