"So here we are again, dear 'brothers'! Who has been slighted this time?!" Tigrea snaps at his audience. The dripping sarcasm does not go unnoticed and is marked by Laykah.
"We're here, dear 'brother'... to regroup, heal ourselves from the last attack from one that could have actually brought us togeth--"
"Slain's excursions into prostitution do not concern me!"
Slain watches intently, being the third but not last of the audience, he raised his brow with interest, utterly silent. Laykah glances over to him and nods sighing and sits back in his chair in an almost defeated fashion, raising his hands.
"It's indeed true, Slain. It fascinates us that Tigrea just attempted to either lie to us, or to himself, within seconds of our meeting. As if we do not actually hold factual knowledge that the three of us, have a heavy stake in each of our affairs." He smirked and looked at Tigrea, who's eyes flashed with rage, huffed and sneered at the comment, he turned his face and spit for the last act of defiance as he too, sat back in his chair, ceding Laykah's point.
"To whatever gods! Damnit. Are we to kill her?" Being overtly pragmatic. Slain winced, irritated at the notion.
"Come, come, now," Laykah tries to soften the blow. " did we ever even come close to considering such brutality with the previous two, Tigrea?"
Tigrea hisses and spits again. "It was worth a try, to find a quick solution to this, than the oncoming storm of internalized bullshit we'll have to weather." Slain glares, stoic. His raised brow, the only tell tale of emotion was gone. Laykah sighs.
"You really must calm yourself, brother. "
"Yes... brother. You must." Slain says softly.
"Ah but of course, the humorous one chimes in with but a," Tigrea feigns a gasp. " fucking joke. Tell me, brothers, how shall I channel recent events, mixed in with the anger you both know that I feel, in triplicate due to our current status!? I feel for ALL of us, simultaneously! A curse that's yet to be rectified, yet still the fucking source of amusement to us! So... Slain oh wise one... how shall I calm down from your recent entanglement with a razored Rose bush?! Or how about your input, Laykah? or Shall I ask your blue fuzzball for cryptic advice in place of your dismissive sarcasm!?" In the surrounding darkness, a creature slinked towards the table. The three watched it as a large, dark blue furred cat calmly jumped up to the round table they sat around and sat, gingerly at Laykah's left hand. It gazes at Tigrea and tilts its head, silently and keeps staring, without moving.
The cat continues to stare, the tension in the room increasing with each moment. It flicks its tail once and lays it gently back down on the table. It's whiskers twitch once and then the silence is broken by an unfamiliar voice. The cat, addresses Tigrea, in a hostile yet calm tone. "Did you say something?!"
"I Will fucking kill y--" Tigrea slams his nails into the table.
"Enough!" Slain lets his anger spill a bit. "As much as it would amuse me to watch you chase the pretty kitty around, Lancea, and as much as this delightful banter soothes superficially, I really am in no mood; As you you both painfully already know, dear brothers. We need to quell this emotional turmoil before one of us does something the rest will have to suffer for and endure. So if you could attempt to contribute in such a manner that progress is made, I'd greatly appreciate it." Slain places his hands gently on the table as he finishes.
"Do not call me that again, Slain."Tigrea hisses.
"As you wish." Slain nods in agreement and sighs.
"Well wasn't that fun? Shall I go fetch the wine in celebration of your agre--"
"Laink!" All three men yell into the cat's mind, whilst seemingly unreactive in their seats.
"Sighs, very well... I don't need my psychic powers to know how to read the the room. Scratch you later, pointy," The cat looks at Tigrea as he speaks. " I'm sure I'll still be hungry later. " Feeling his point was made he paws over to the edge of the table, and prepares to stretch before leaping down. Tigrea, watching him with no good will, suddenly his angry countenance melts away, as if he's discovered a solution to a puzzle. He smiles. Slain just watches this, unfazed. Laykah palms his face as Tigrea brings together his pointer finger and thumbnails together with his right hand and flicks a spark directly at the feline. The cat hisses loudly as his tail and hind paws spark and smoke briefly. In a scramble the cat runs into the darkness and the small embers on his fur are put out in the distance due to his speed. Slain chuckles at the sight of the embers and awaits his brothers to compose themselves.
"Huh... I thought he was psychic." Tigrea shrugs.
"I did tell him to run, should have listened, and Tigrea, if he shits in your cape, I'll hear none of it. Like children, I swear. "
"I'll skin him."
"Sure you will." Laykah looks over to Slain who grew impatient. "Brother, what ever shall we do with you? We've picked our romantic," he waves at himself and Tigrea, " demises long before you, what makes you think we'd be any good in helping you now with your queen? Evidently... you must leave her to the madness that drives her. What other choice have you got?"
"You think it so simple?" Slain straightens in his seat and prepares to disagree but Tigrea anticipates him.
"Yes! it IS that simple, brother. How many times has she forsaken us---You! Even You have lost count. It's broken us --"
"Tigrea" Laykah warns him of his tone and phrasing...
"To whatever gods! You! You. She's broken you so often that only her returning with accusations of your abuse breaks the monotony of her repetitive abandonment! Come to think of it... why desire to be with a person that so intently believes the absolute worst of your existence?! And if you are so horrid to her, why does she return to you? She's mad. Being driven by mad beings. Mislead. Cede her madness. Let it be. Let her go and we'll find someone else----"
"FIND SOMEONE ELSE!? " Slain erupts landing on his feet. " It's that very arrogance that she quotes in our--MY actions! Neither She, nor anyone we've loved are so interchangeable, Tigrea."
"Then fuck finding someone else. That's NOT the point of this and we all know it. The point is to save you. You're destroying yourself . You've become murderous, Slain. You've killed. More so than even I ever expected you to. That darkness you've been pulled into... it chills even ME. You even tried to kill US, brother." Tigrea points at him from his folded hands. "You. Attempted. To. Murder. Us. " Laykah raises his hand to get Tigreas attention. "A moment brother, if you please." Tigrea nods and crosses his arms, listening. "Slain, whatever the potential of a cure existed within her, is long gone. You know this. She threw it away, knowingly and willingly. Without hesitation. I thought Tigrea was the one that struggled with hints." He smirks glancing at his brother who's now gesturing rudely at him for his remark. "Why do you still chase this?"
"Yes, please tell us why you chase that brutal pain? It is ALL she offers you, in some form of recompense for having misjudged you in the first place, her olive branch is to tell you that she didn't know any better and will now and forever be unsure if you were ever genuine toward her. Despite you having never given her reason to suspect otherwise. This incessant bullshit has torn you further apart than the " waves around the table exasperated " fucking blatantly obvious. "
Slain sits back down, almost disappearing into his chair. "Tigrea, Rivulecy did not create us, nor or is she responsible for curing us. It simply felt the closest thing to a cure, truly, deeply the closest we've ever felt to a cure. The most important part was... w- I was not looking for that. It just came to be."
Laykah takes his chance, "NO... for certain that she did not indeed create us. Hilariously enough for us, Slain. Despite only ever having one male and two female heirs, your parents are wholly the beginning of the curse that created all three of us. "
"This we've known and it helps us abysmally little at the moment. Terribly sorry to push the issue, but why do you desire to repeatedly seek out such turmoil? " Tigrea scratches at the top of the table with his nails, impatiently.
"I... I don't."
Laykah's jaw drops slightly... his fang leaves a faint glint. Tigrea sits up, attentively, silent and serious. "I do not seek it. I do not want it. The pain, ugh... the pain has all but killed that part of me. Not my choice, Tigrea, I assure you. Not in the killings that you mentioned. Though yes... I did kill and try to kill... a great many things. I tried to kill you both, though that isn't the first time."
"That's hardly the point, Slain" Laykah responds purposely letting his irritability out.
"I know, I know. I just wanted to make sure you both remember how both of your 'excursions into prostitution,' was it? Also led to my decreased concern for either of your well being, brothers. " Laykah glares at Tigrea and his brother shrugs.
"I'm not apologizing." Slain grins and tries to continue.
"It's fine, and aptly put, I believe. Whoring yourself out, physically, mentally or emotionally just for the mere promise of affection and care or time from someone who isn't ready to do so, but accepts your offers and stiffs you for the bill... well... You can't ignore that suffocating feeling of being used, eh?"
"That was a delicious description.... " Tigrea notes with a bad taste in his mouth.
"And all of it your fault, now shut up." Laykah barks. Slain watches and counts down in his head with a smirk.
"Haha. Yeah. Slain's taste in psychotic, sadistic women is clearly my doing."
"You really want to go there, sir 'Bleeding tastes better'? Laykah quips as Tigrea growls lowly to himself.
"I don't know, Laykah. Tell me, does blood taste better than that Electra complex?" Tigrea leans forward. Laykah punches the table lifting it a bit off the opposite end. Slain cracks his knuckles and sighs.
"And there it is. We've taken our swipes at one another. Shall we press on?" Slain stands. "I don't want it. I certainly don't need it. It pains me to say... that this has-- No. It doesn't pain me to say it. What pains me... is the overwhelming yearning to understand why. Why do such things to person? Why tear them apart every time they seem like their scabs are beginning to dry? Why make simple promises to reassure them of change...only to repeat the past once over? Why sabotage what you had, and claim it was destined to fail? Why hurt a person over and over? Why not leave them be like you claim to wish to? Why take the obvious freedom you have to abandon someone, only to return and hurt them again?"
"Why indeed, Slain." Laykah offers some solace. "You very well know that's not sanity. No kind person, no decent person. No human being who dares to claim "love" as their catalyst would ever consciously do such things."
"I've made mistakes--"
"So has God and nature! What is your point? That you deserve this? No wonder you continue to let her methodically rake your humanity across the coals. "
"No, I don't deserve this. That is why we're here, Laykah."
"Then listen to us... your noble search for understanding aside, it is a fools game. You play with madness brother. She's broken. She's broken and she's actually led you to believe that YOU are the one that broke her... while praising you for the help and support and supposed trivialities that you "taught her'. A compliment in one hand, concealing the sharpened misericords in the other. All the while not actually putting you out of your misery. Tigrea and myself have stood by watching this... and stood by as you almost killed us. Cede her madness. Leave her to her madness and grow stronger. To whatever gods! This curse has an end, even without her. Being close to a solution, does not mean the solution has been found. Rivulecy's mind is gone, and she's trying to take you with her. By whatever means. She doesn't care what she destroys along the way, as long as her constructed outward personality is not tarnished. Whatever does not fit her narrative is severed and forgotten. "
"And she's forgotten A LOT, dear brother." Tigrea acquiesces firmly." Leave her to her madness. Steel yourself before you kill us all. And don't forget, there's someone---"
"It would serve you well, Brother," Slain speaks loudly still standing. " to remember that yes... our solely given promise to remain here... of this world, lies upon that poor creature that we have failed over and over again to perform our duty while in her service. And our Service... will never be fulfilled. Not in any lifetime. She is the sole driving force behind all that the three of us ever do. We were not tricked. We were not deceived or sold or pressured into this service. We happily and willingly chose it. Forever it shall be so...But brother... let that be the once and final time you reference Featherhair, as a secondary, or tertiary variable. She is OURS. We belong to her. She is our reason. She is our air. Everything we do... we do thinking of her. "
"Well, not everyth--"
"To whatever gods, Tigrea! Not fucking now!"Laykah growls.
"Fine, I won't raise that topic again." Tigrea rises and walks around his chair, placing his hand on either side and holding it, almost expecting to use it as a shield.
Silence take over the hall, the three figures lie in wait to see what the others has to offer. Slain begins to hear whispers. He searches the room, for a tell, a giveaway that one of his brothers is attempting another ill timed jest. Nothing. They scan stone like at one another. Slain closing his eyes tries to focus on the whispers. They grow louder. Now he hears the words softly gliding across his mind. Leave her to her madness. Leave her to her madness. Cede her madness. Broken. Broken. She's mad. The demons that broke her will take you with them. Cede her madness. The whirlwind picks up in his head... his brothers are gone. He's alone. "So---so , it isn't-- isn't y-you...." Slain trips on his own words, mirroring his movements. The whirlwind now a hurricane in his mind blows to and thro. The words getting louder, harsher. Echoes of pleading tearing at his chest and mind.
Leave her to her---Cede--- Broken
Leave her madness. Your madness.
Leave it! Abandon your madness!
Your madness will break you!
She needs you! "I need you!"
I'll kill you! "I'll kill of you!"
"I'll kill myself." Kill this madness!
"I hate everything!"
I hate her! I can't stand it!
"She threw me away!"
They all threw me away!
"That's all they ever do." They leave.
They leave. "They leave." They leave.
They leave. "They leave." They leave.
They abandon you... they forsake us.
They leave. Leave. Leave. Leave.
Leave her... Leaver her... Madness.
Leave her madness. Leaver her to--
Leave her to her madness!
The madness is yours!
"The madness is hers!"
Slain kneels holding his ears in hopes of stopping the horrid onslaught between them. His brothers now standing at his side, watch him. Uneasy, hoping for the best... Laykah's nails growing alongside his anxiety... Tigrea, gripping the hilt of his sword with disdain... both preparing for the worst. It wouldn't be the first time, but to whatever gods do they wish it was the last. They gaze down at their agonizing Kin, not sure what to do. What could be done? This is why they are here. This. What ever comes of this, they'll deal with as before. Like always. This would not be their undoing, and what a pathetic ending if it was. After all, Pride does have it's place. As does death.
"The madness is hers!" Slain yells, and gasps for air as he rises up to his feet with a stumble. His eyes held shut, his hands pressing into his skull. He sighs... getting his feel for where he is once again... He notes the breeze in the hall where he summoned his brothers to meet. He feels the torches around the room have gone out in his momentary departure. He feels his bother's hands firmly on his shoulders, from steadying him as he rose. What he most takes note of is the merciful silence that now graces his body. The voices are gone, a feint echo. He lowers his hands slowly, his eyes still shut. Exhausted let himself fall forward, resting his palms on the table edge, catching himself. He opens his eyes, glittering silver... and eases his brothers. "There won't be any violence tonight, dear brothers. You may rest your weapons. Perhaps, there won't be further violence either. Not at least... pertaining to this. Ever again."
Tigrea snorts, having unsheathed this sword as he watched Slain's abrupt movements, unhands the hilt of his sword... the scabbard materializes over the glass blade as he steps around the table. Laykah, eased his nails as he folded his hands behind his back as he too, stepped away from his brother alongside the table.
"What ever do you mean? We were just worried about you. " Laykah exclaims.
"To whatever gods! I was ready to take your head. Tut tut, on the lying Laykah, it is so unlike you."Tigrea says plainly.
