mental link // S72

[servitor]

DIASPEIREIN To scatter, spread about.	MELIORISM The belief that the world gets better.
ORIFLAMME A symbol or standard that inspires confidence, devotion, or courage.	VANGUARD The troops moving at the head of an army.

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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[servitor]

[And, like always, he's there, a level of calm and steadiness radiating in the link. He excuses himself from the guards he's been making friends with to really focus on Annie.]

( You rang? )

[sistershoggoth]

[ She grits her teeth. This isn't the kind of thing she usually takes the Nyx. Noctis has the background with it, her feelings about shit, but she and Noctis also just had a weird dream share that has left her feeling too vulnerable to him right now. She needs some balance, and so there's this fucker. ]

( The kid soldiers make me want to fucking die. )

[ A thesis to the pain she's feeling at the moment. A bunch of shit stirred up into a swirling potion and she could just drink drink drink all day. ]

[servitor]

( What happened? )

[He can't push her into telling her specifics, he knows that much. He can't make her unload whatever she's feeling. His best tactic? Ask, and let her steer the conversation.

Maintain an evenness to his tone and the link. There's a chaos, there's always a chaos with Annie, but it's moving in a way he can't discern, nor does he immediately recognize besides some kind of pain.]

[sistershoggoth]

( Was trying to cheer up Asuka and just-- )

[ She's chafing inside her cloak and hood and wants to rip off and scream and shout. Do something with what's boiling in her, but here she is, grinding her teeth like a beast and trying to put together words that feel safe enough to expose. ]

( Want to tell them that shit is okay and there's room to make mistakes and be themselves and-- )

[ There isn't. There isn't room for any of that. Just like there never has been. It's not about Asuka's childhood, it's the childhood Annie has never had and has now spent years trying to foster in others, only to be brought here. Hive mind child soldier factory. ]

( One of them's already killed themselves. )

[ Not just one. Never just one. Her head fills up with their faces, girl after girl after girl. ]

( How many more do we just fucking sit back and watch fucking break-- )

[ As her cussing grows more repetitive, it's clear she's losing the ability to pull the thoughts together. ]

[servitor]

[He can feel her struggling. He can feel the itching and the growing anger that he's trying to ward off stubbornly by becoming as cool as a river, steady as a rock.

He can feel the gnawing and the biting and the growling that threatens to take hold. The faces swarm his mind, one by one by one and somewhere in there is the face of his own sister, young and smiling with a thin beaded headband low across her forehead.

It throws him off, enough for him to have to physically stop.]

( Can you make it to the apartments? )

[sistershoggoth]

The fuck am I going to--

[ It starts to come out of her mouth, out loud, her strained voice trying to rise into shouting but she somehow manages to swallow it all back down. Under her hood she screws her eyes shut, bites her lip. ]

( Fuckin' hate this. )

[ Her mind and body eating themselves because she has to keep everything repressed inside. She has to get rid of it. It has to come out.

She's just standing stock still now, staring at the ground with her hands balled into fists. ]

[servitor]

( I know you do, and I'm coming to you. Don't even argue. )

[Because if she tried he'd shut her down and still find her anyway. He doesn't bother asking for formality and courtesy. they're far past that. Nyx just follows the link, his instinct, all of his purple and black robes trailing and kicking up dust in his rapid wake. If he could warp, he would, but he's just as stuck as everyone else.

And when he does find her...]

We're going far out where they can't see or hear us.

[Because he feels that need to scream too now. He just has managed to keep his emotions in check down to both an art and a science.]

[sistershoggoth]

[ She's breathing heavily under the cover of the robes, but she nods, because that's all she can think of to do: just get the fuck out of here. Yeah, every once in a while it was quiet enough in the tents to roll around with Shepard for a bit, but there was no real privacy. There was no really getting away from this. She grabs him by the hand and pulls. She feels like if she doesn't have his hand in hers she can't focus, she won't make it before she just loses her fucking mind.

But she's always doing that. Grabbing on and anchoring into her brood so that she doesn't just float away, or spread herself out too far and damage everyone, herself included. She still feels like the boys got a raw fucking deal with her, but that's not what's on her mind right now.

All the matter is getting far enough away from everything so she can rip this fucking cloak off and smash her fists into something. Maybe even him, whatever. She'll take whatever she can get. ]

[servitor]

[And so he leads, on and on, past tents, past guards, to an area close enough to not cause suspicion, far enough that most wouldn't really venture out for any reason.

The focus it takes for him to remain composed is immense. Annie's rage is bleeding into him, in a way that he feels like he's reaching out, bleeding, searching, curling into weird shapes that are so beyond foreign to him. There's an animalistic snarl, electricity crackling and jumping across fur and claws.]

( I think we're good. )

[His speech is clipped as to not snap. Still, he doesn't let go of her, until she decides to let go of him.]

[sistershoggoth]

[ The only reason she breaks physical contact is to rip off her costume. Throwing the whole mess into a heap and stomping on it a few times. Beneath the costume, she actually looks like a military woman for once. Her clothes fit, simple and utilitarian, and the sleeveless top actually shows how muscular she really is, something usually hidden by her ill-fitting trash wear.

She stands there slouched over for a moment, breathing hard, shoulders contracting and expanding up and down before she looks over her shoulder at him. Her brows are pinched and her mouth is a hard line.

She shouldn't. She shouldn't take it out on him. What kind of way was that to treat a friend, an ally, a broodmate. She tenses her jaw. He's alight with it too now, and she can't quite decide whether its her fault, like a fucking infection, or if he was just handling it better until she came and lit the paper. She wants to say something, maybe somehow give him fucking fair warning like he doesn't have the sense to understand her by now--

But she can't just say nothing. ]

Whoever starts bleeding first loses.