poly_chromatic | [accidental video]

Entry tags:

godchild - riffael raffit

[accidental video]

[There's been a scuffle, and the room is in shambles-- broken glasses, furniture strewn about, curtains torn. The Device lies forgotten, sees everything around without its owner's knowledge for the moment.

This is not a room that usually appears in the City, not a building that should be here: it's a little part of England, surely achingly familiar to a certain Earl Hargreaves and those close to him, uprooted and set into the outskirts of the City. The room is empty, at first glance, save for the sound of heavy breathing nearby, movement. Something falls and shatters, and suddenly a blur of motion--

It's Riff, but two of him, one attacking while the other--injured and bloody--scrambles to get away. The latter manages to land a strike, a heavy candelabra slamming against the side of the former Riff's head. He's down for only a second or two, and when the other runs, he draws his revolver.

A door slamming, a gunshot-- both have gone from view, but, after several moments, the Device is picked up. The picture blurs and wobbles, and suddenly it's

voice only

and Riff sounds slightly out of breath, barely checked anger in his low voice.]

It appears today's curse has thought it would be amusing to create a doppelganger of myself, and an utterly insane one, at that. Please pay it no mind.

[And that's that. The device turns off, and he has every mind to follow this 'double' out and put an end to him-- perhaps once and for all.]

((OOC: RIFFAEL VS. RIFF. Sorry for the confusion and the lateness but, basically--

Riff, though injured, has managed to escape. Riffael will be trying to kill him before he can say anything or meet anyone but that just means OPEN TO ACTION! :D Feel free to run into either of them. Riff will be answering with this journal, while Riffael will be answering with

judaskiss ))

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[You know Cain is running there just as soon as he sees what's going on. Running, full-tilt.]

[He needs to get away. Unsure by what miracle he's got his own body--a curse, apparently--Riff lurches more than runs toward the thick mass of trees on the outskirts of the City.

He hasn't got a Device, but perhaps if he can lay low a little longer, take care of the injuries a little, he'll be able to make it back to the Opera House and find Cain before midnight...

The thought of Cain hurts, making his chest tighten. It's terrible to be trapped, knowing, seeing, unable to warn the one person most important to him that he's in danger every day.]

[The place he saw, the room--there's nowhere like it in the City. Even his own rooms at the Opera Abandoned are a pale reflection of that place. That was a room from his world, from his home.

So he knows, then, where this room isn't. And he keeps running, out beyond the edges of town.]

[He won't find anyone in the new building at the edge of the City. Riffael has gone in search of the factor that could betray him, and Riff--

He leans against a tree to catch his breath, shallow and labored, one arm curled around his broken ribs. Blood mats his pale hair on one side from a blow that's still making his head spin, and he wonders if this is far enough, if he can just rest for a little while longer.

Something stops him, makes him force his body to stand on its own again, and Riff heads back suddenly.

Cain. He's close. He knows. It doesn't matter how, or even if it's delirium settling in. Cain is looking for him, nearby.]

[Yes, very nearby. He's been cutting for sign as best he can the whole way, watching for blood or footprints or for any mark that might mean Riff is nearby. If there's anyone he can recognize from miles out, it's Riff.

And he does see him--perhaps not from miles out, but still at a distance, standing (unsteadily) and wounded (undoubtedly).

He runs.]

Lord Cain--

[The name escapes his lips in a breath of relief, far before Cain is anywhere close enough to actually hear it. He stops finally, panting, and leans against a tree to wait for him.

But he's smiling, the worry over other issues disappearing briefly just at the sight of him. Riff reaches out a hand when he gets close, warmth in his eyes, of the sort Riffael can never manage no matter how good his acting is.]

Riff...

[And that's all he can manage in that moment. He clings instead, as best he can, trying not to pain him more than he must already be pained. He clings and he stares.]

[He's got three broken ribs, but the pain is worth it. Riff sets his forehead against Cain's hair, effectively hiding his silent wince as well as gathering him closer.]

You are being deceived, My Lord. [he admits finally, very soft, regretful. He wishes he were stronger, able to break free without waiting for a lucky curse.]

Yes, I know. There's a curse today. I saw you fighting yourself. Riff--even if there is a curse, you're truly hurt. You need a doctor.

That man-- [His voice is cold suddenly, harsh, and the hatred in it is something Cain has probably never heard before from him.]

--is not me.

[He takes a breath, calming down again, pulling back just enough to see Cain's face.]

Lord Cain, your father... He's done something to me. The curse has nullified it for today, but you mustn't- you cannot trust me after today.

Riff--no, you're cursed. My father saw Aunt Augusta here, you say I can't trust you after today. It's all a curse, Riff. It's just that. That's all it can possibly be.

How--

[And he falls silent for a moment. When he speaks, it's little more than a whisper.]

How can I not trust you?

[He leans back again, tries to catch his breath. His eyes close, and he tries to figure out how to explain it when it makes little sense to him. Even he isn't sure who the other man really is-- It can't be him. That warped version of his past, the one he can see in that man's mind, it isn't his. It's a construct. That man is a construct, forced into him by the Cardmaster, some sort of spy meant to hurt Cain and masquerade as him, but there is no truth to him.

He opens his eyes finally, fingers stroking Cain's hair gently.]

Answer me honestly, please. [he requests softly, because maybe Cain is right and maybe he's just insane, and the pain is making him dizzy.]

Can you tell me, honestly, that you have sensed no difference in me these last several weeks? Lord Cain?

[Cain's eyes search his face. This can't be. This cannot be.]

You...disappear so often anymore. I had thought you...were ill again.

[Coded language. Cain had some notion before of this other self, of this monster inside Riff. But he had put those thoughts aside, supposed that it was all minded and healed and taken care of. Wasn't that was all those awful agreements with that monstrous doctor had been about before? Hadn't all that done any good? Wasn't he better? Hadn't he--?]

My father wants you. And you're ill again. And you're more ill than ever before. And he's the one who's done it.

He's made me a prisoner in my own mind. [His hands are shaking. He forces them to stop, fingers tightening in Cain's hair.]

I watched my own hands killing those people. Lord Cain, the murders, with those notes from Shakespeare just to have a laugh-- His idea of a joke, out of boredom. [He swallows, trying to gather his thoughts.]

Nothing you say is protected from your father. He visits with Delilah often, and he is growing tired of pretending. Whatever it is Alexis Hargreaves has created in my mind, I am not certain even he can control it.

You murdered those people, Riff? That was you on the Network? That was him on the Network?

['M.O.C.' 'Master of Cards.' The pieces begin to fall into place.]

What can we do, Riff? What can be done? I won't lose you again, Riff. I've lost you too many times. I won't lose you again, not to him. If I lose you, I'll kill myself.

[He winces, this time not from the physical pain, and the memory of what he did to those poor people-- not him, but his hands, his body-- It hurts far more than any of the injuries.

Hearing Cain threaten his own life is even worse.

Riff leans down--he's slumped anyway, almost to Cain's height--to press his forehead to his master's.]

Please, Lord Cain, please don't speak that way...

[But he doesn't know what to do either. He's tried. He tries every day.]

[It flickers through his mind that perhaps he shouldn't even trust Riff now. But...his eyes are as they should be. His face is as it should be. There's no hard, false glitter to his eyes. The wrongness of the past weeks is all the more clear in the face of the right. And Cain has been lying to himself more and more of late.]

What can we do, Riff? What can we do?

[His voice is barely a whisper.]

You must not let me- him near you any longer.

He'll suspect something, won't he? And what if he manages to hurt you? Because of that, because I'll know You're in the same body, aren't you?

[This sounds like nonsense and yet...it's the only thing that makes sense.]

Yes. [he answers carefully, unsure.]

But I have no control over my body.

Still, he cannot hurt me anymore than I can hurt him. Not without a curse such as this to give him a separate entity that can be attacked.

He used the curse to his advantage.

[He presses in close, but gently as he can.]

Do you know how hard it will be for me to avoid someone with a face just like yours, with a voice just like yours, and who acts just like you?

[About as hard as it is for him to watch through eyes no longer his as that monster does whatever it pleases with his body, plots against everything he needs to protect.]

It is nothing more than an act.

[He hesitates, thoughtful, straining to come up with some way to fix this because he can't go back, he can't be trapped again--]

Perhaps he can be killed, during a period of separation like this.

I know he was trying to kill me.

Perhaps he could. And I would kill him, Riff.

But what about you? What happens when the curse ends? Will he be revived as though nothing had changed or will you come back to me with no heartbeat? Or will he come back with no heartbeat?

I do not know, My Lord...

I don't want to lose you again, Riff.

And I don't want to hurt you. [Burying his face in Cain's hair. His chest hurts, and it has nothing to do with the broken ribs.]

You won't. You never will and you never could. He might try something, but he isn't you.

You need a doctor, Riff.

I am unlikely to have this body after midnight. [he points out quietly. he can do without a doctor until then, and he'd much rather spend this time with Cain-- and not getting killed by the other.]

There is a certain doctor, however, who may know a way to reverse what has been done to me. [The coldness in his tone makes it very obvious exactly who he's talking about.]

I know. I know.

[It pains Cain just as much to acknowledge all this. But he knows it's true.]

I'm so sorry, Lord Cain...

[for being too weak to break free, for putting him through this, for being unable to stay-- for everything]

You've nothing to apologise for, Riff. This is all my father's doing.

[Clinging harder now.]

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[accidental video]

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