removeimpurity | Fifth Incision [Action, Video]

[Action]

[She could remember the keep, the struggle between herself and the guards -- trying to fight her way free from a situation that was growing increasingly futile. She had a mission to complete, and she was so far from the objective--]

[--and then there was darkness. Cold, uncaring darkness. And within that darkness, she heard voices: Pitiful woman. Unable to defend herself. So analytical and careful. Where has that caution gotten you, mm?]

[More and more of them chime in, until the darkness was filled with malevolent, hissing voices. All of them pointing out her flaws -- all of them pointing out that she had died, that her greatest of all fears had come to pass and it was over in the blink of an eye --]

[Death is inevitable, and harboring such fears is pointless, came one last voice. All fears are pointless, don't you think? Causing such worry and despair...]

[Syre didn't know how long she had been unconscious -- No, not unconscious, her brain reminded her, Dead, you had died -- but light of the sun roused her from what felt like an extended, nightmare-filled sleep.]

[She sits up, feels the back of her head, makes sure that she doesn't have anything protruding from her skull or otherwise disfiguring her, then rises to her feet. She lets her head stop spinning before she takes a look at her surroundings.]

[The first thing that she notices is that the Malnosso -- in what Syre can only think of as a twisted sense of convenience -- had placed her on the roof of Community Building 3, which makes the task of returning to her home a trivial one.]

[The second realization is one that is a little more irritating to bear -- there were far more people in the village than she remembered previously. Were they invaders? She didn't spot any of the Third Party among them...]

[Regardless, standing on the roof would get her nowhere. Calmly, she turned away from the view, and made her way down to her room.]

[Video]

[The video feed from Syre's journal is askew, as though the book had been thrown aside. There are two pairs of legs in frame -- and hushed voices speak about being 'fortunate to have found an empty place' and 'someone else's stuff still here' as they throw Syre's things to the floor.]

[It is around this time that a set of footsteps -- easily heard by both the journal and the looters -- draws nearer. Then, Syre's voice:]

What in the names of... [Her question trails off, and the two people in frame back up. Syre's legs come into view.]

What are you doing in my home?!

[The two thieves start stammering pitifully, uttering things like 'the apartment was empty when we arrived' and 'we didn't know you would come back', and Syre seems to turn. From just out of frame, there's the sound of a sword being drawn, and moments later, the sheathe of Syre's rapier is thrown toward the journal.]

Out! Both of you! I've no qualms about running you through if need be! [The two looters stumble over themselves as they run past her, dropping whatever they had picked up.]

[There's an sound of anger from Syre as she puts her rapier down; moments later, she bends to pick up both its sheathe and her journal, regarding the feed with a look of undiluted rage. Pardon her short temper at the moment -- she's just come back to life and now this happened, so she's understandably very annoyed.]

Why are all of these people here, and why were they in my apartment?!

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Or so we hope. [He'll go ahead and sit down and once tea is poured for both, he'll take a sip to be polite.]

But on to what we were discussing. I'll be blunt. Were you the one who took care of the security room?

[That Leonhardt knows someone else handled. When he arrived the guard was taken out and monitors smashed. He doubts anyone not out to deal with the Count would have done it, so the likely suspect is Syre since she so mysteriously had vanished and didn't return for a week.]

[...she knew the question would come up sooner or later. She's glad he decided to be straight-to-the-point on it.]

[Syre sits down, takes a sip of her own tea, and is silent for a moment before she answers.]

I am. Not that it did me any good in the long run.

[No point in skirting around it now. It's one thing to avoid the topic on the journals, another to do so in person.]

The mission was still successful. Your aid in the security room did help since I am not as good with those sorts of electronic devices. The type I am familiar with are vastly different.

[He would have done it differently, but still, it saved him some time and effort. So he may as well show appreciation for that.]

[A simple nod. There's a feeling of ease, knowing that the whole thing still went well.]

[Even if she had to die for it.]

I would have been far less crude had I my abilities during the mission. But then, a lot of things would have been better if it weren't for the lack of powers.

[She's silent again, her expression faintly troubled.]

...does anyone else know? [About the mission. About her death.]

It would have been far easier if we had our powers, but if what was said about the Count was correct, we may have had a very hard time dealing with his powers.

[He thinks on how to respond to that last question. Because really, he mostly figured it out by knowing about the secret mission and knowing that their numbers were down by one. He has no idea if any noticed he went missing for a good deal of time before rejoining the group.]

I figured it out because I knew of the real reason and keep an eye on details. I doubt the others did and a good lie should work if you prefer to keep your involvement to yourself. I won't be telling stories.

...that is also true, I suppose.

[Leonhardt's words give her some small amount of comfort. She nods again, as though confirming something.]

If and when the topic comes, I won't hesitate to explain what went on. But until then, silence is the best choice in the matter.

[She drinks from her cup again, looking a little more at ease. Then, moments later, she speaks again.]

It's odd. [...] I always thought death would be more... permanent.

I doubt the topic will come up. No one knows enough to ask and telling it openly is likely to cause problems. [Because seriously, too many of the villagers are overly good people who don't understand that some people do need to die for the good of all.]

And nothing is permanent here, not even death. I died here as well and came back a week later as well. In a few months you'll even be able to get John to give you back what was lost.

...better for me, then. Less to worry about.

Nothing is permanent, hm...?

[It's what she's been working toward most of her life.]

[She no longer has to fear death -- she would only come back a week later. Combined with what she knows about her own body, her own limits... She could possibly...]

[She smiles, faintly.]

A few months doesn't seem all that long. I'm sure I can wait. [...] Besides... I don't even know what it is that I lost.

Edited (HTML fail. OTL) 2012-08-28 03:01 (UTC)

Death sure isn't unless you get sacrificed by a cultist. That's why we had to deliver him alive to ensure he would not return today.

[But the fact that she doesn't know the penalty yet is interesting. That means it likely is a memory or skill. Something that wouldn't be too harsh of a loss at least.]

It depends on what the loss ends up being. If you do not know yet, it must be something more subtle, perhaps a memory or skill. That makes it easy to pretend to others that nothing happened.

Mm. Those damnable cultists have a use after all.

[Syre thinks a moment, analyzing her faculties. As far as she knows, her short-term memory hasn't suffered any.]

[Her alchemy, limited as it was at present, was still... Well, present. That she knew for certain, as she could feel it, faintly, running through her body like a current.]

[What, then, was she missing...?]

... Well, whatever it is, it'll make itself apparent soon enough, I gather.

It will. It actually took me nearly two weeks to find out what mine was. I do hope yours is as easy to work around as mine was.

[And in his case, it was a loss of an ability to cook, nothing big deal when there are places to get food and he has housemates, but frustrating because Leonhardt isn't the most trusting of people and likes doing things himself.]

I hope so, too. Though I hope it doesn't take nearly as long for me to realize what it is.

[Jokingly, she adds:] Or, that I realize what it is in the midst of a situation that requires it.