#funneled web

continued from here with @kochou-gakure:

A snarling purr rumbled from Betsy at hearing his ascension to their words. At the back of her mind, something about this felt all too familiar. The reckless desire for bloodshed, not caring who she hurt to get what she wanted… It must have been one of those lifetimes Kurt had told her about. And yet it felt so easy to slip back into that unknown mold. A bit comfortable, if she had to be honest. What she couldn’t be sure of was whether she enjoyed it or not. “Ạ ͓le̖sso̠ṇ t̩o̗ ̣țe̢s̮t̹ ̹hi͙s m̪e̩m̞o̺ry̻,̭ ̮th͜ȩn.” Betsy finally released her grip on him, allowed him to fall to his feet, and headed to the nearest window. There, she spied the dropped food, the smell of it reminding her just how hungry she was. She was going to have to find something to satisfy her cravings. “A̻ ̣l̦e̖ss͢o̺n̖ ̨a̼n̘d ͖a̤ ̫f̥e̬a̞st͙.” With that she stepped out of the window and allowed herself to fall, expecting him to follow.

R̗̾e̅ͅm̮̏e͉̽m͝ͅb̠̚ẻ̘r̬͘ ̺̽y͙͝ǫ̍u͎͆r̺̕s̤̋é̫ĺ̡f̭̍,̜̏ ̤̎K͈͠u̩͋r̺̆t̍͢ ̑͟D̰̑a̞̿ȑ̥k̟̍h̘̅o̮̅l̠̅m͇̏ẽ̙.̮̐

Kurt bit back a verbal response, but the creature still laughed inside his mind anyhow, knowing that he found the name to be grating, but not something he could now deny in her presence. Betsy released Kurt and he didn’t feel like he had the strength to stand, but the creature caught them both easily. He could feel the power through it and how it longed to test their limits. When she spoke to him, he didn’t feel like he could do anything to help her, but he still felt himself follow her towards the window.  Once Betsy disappeared out the window, Kurt’s exhaustion was second in importance to him. “We need to follow her.” “I͓͋ ̩̕t̡̀h̗̑o̭͛ű͢g̺̈h̝̄t̜̀ ̝͂y͋͟o͓͋u̯̕ ̻̄w̕͟ë̹́ŕ̝ȇ̟ ͕͛ť̲o͔͑ǒ̧ ̄͜ṫ͜i̼̍ȑ̪e̞̎d̮͑.͎̍,” a sarcastic voice purred back to him. 

continued from here with @kochou-gakure:

Betsy’s hand reached for his own, and black ichor found it first, curling and forming around his wrist and squeezing it painfully tight. “Śuch͛ sentim͌ēn̑tali̐ty. W͡e͒ré ̕w̑e͛ ̈́m̅i̚st̔akėn̄ i̾n ͝tḧi͝n̑kiňg̐ yòu͂ ͌v̚i̛abl͝e͂?” The mask reformed itself over Betsy’s face, though her other clawed hand ran itself through Kurt’s hair. The symbiote wasn’t going to give her the chance to respond to his offer of comfort. We̔ ̂ẃil̆l̒ ̅h̄u̿n͘t they demanded, the words curling into Kurt’s ears and mind. Ẁe͋ ̛wīl̀l̓ h̓ūnt an͆d̄ ̆ẏo͊u͆ ̀will̈ ̿abide. ̐Or ̓d̒o̒ ͑y̑o̅ű ̓w͌a̓n̄t̕ ͝yo͗ǔȓ sc͗hàtz tô ̐b̛e tŕulẙ alo͂n͝e͛? The purple across her skin began to ripple as she stood to her feet, Kurt still in her grasp and pulling him up with her. D͗o͛n’t̋ ma͘ǩe us ̎take ̅o̊u̽r ̉g̾i̋fts ͂b͠a͝c͛k.

Kurt felt Betsy’s creature curled around him and pain started to scream through his arm, but he knew he should not give it the benefit of making his pain known. He bit back his pain and listened more as it spoke to him.

Kurt didn’t fear the clawed hand that ran through his hair. “Not mistaken,” he assured it. "̻͌Mor̙͊e͓̍ ͙͝h͈̋er̚͢è̙ t͢͠han̹͞ ̗̾s̓͜ent̺͘i̹̾me̮͋n̩͂ts͔͆,"̥͊ he felt himself say, though he didn’t think the words. He thought he should find it assuring, but he didn’t.

“He͙͊ ̟͛ḵ̈n̡̅ows p͈̌ai̼̎ǹ͢.̯͒ ̟̋H̩͝e̥̚ k̟͒ň͉ow͇͝s h̝͗ŏ̤w ̻̀t͍́o̡̕ e̬͒mb͍̀rã̗c͕̀e ̯̐i̟̒t.͙̊ “

Kurt started to breath faster now, his own words alarming him and cutting through his haze faster than Betsy’s misaligned threats. “She will not be alone,” he told it, still feeling too weak to do more than move where it took him.