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[There’s no visual, but as you open this feed the first thing that can be heard is a low moan of a woman, obviously sounding relaxed, but also very pleasured.]

…Please, do that again.

So that was good? Do you want it a bit harder?

Yes, just a little bit harder, Rita…Maybe a little faster as well…

All right. Tell me if it's too much, okay? Now...how's...this? [There's a little grunt now.]

[Nothing is said, instead a squeak as she hits the right spot.] Yes, that’s wonderful. [Her voice is laced in pleasure, another low moan follows. ] Just a little more…!

[Rita sounds a bit breathless for her part.] Okay. Right here. Does that feel good?

Ah, yes! [A cry rings out, lingering on before Estelle sounds rather breathless as well…] That felt amazing. Should we switch now? [A creak of a bed can be heard.]

Yeah- [Rita sounds pretty eager! There's some more creaking, the rustling of sheets...] I mean, you were really into it...And you've done this way more than I have.

Well, I got a lot of practice back at the hot springs, so I think I’m rather good at it now. [She sure sounds proud of herself, and now the creaking ceases.]

I bet you'll be amazing, Estelle. [She makes a comfortable sigh.] Here, I'm ready for you.

[...and then audio shuts off]

[ooc: Just two friends giving each other back massages. :|b Red is Rita and pink is Estelle.]

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Why... why would you do that to yourself?

[All this reminds her of is when Yuri had cut himself to get her to automatically respond with a healing spell after she had doubts about herself and her power. That overly compassionate side takes her over as she starts chanting, a light rune surrounding her. Carla's tone and expression do nothing to deter the princess from the task she intended to complete if Carla would allow it.]

[There is almost certainly a sense of panic flooding her. She was possessive of her marks. All her bruises and her cuts, they were hers. They belonged, they proved that her body was her own, that it lived and bled. But... even further, she'd had her wounds sewn up by a doctor she was fond of. He had taken the time to sew her closed, and that care was--

Carla's hand goes out, covering the girl's mouth as she herds her back roughly. Estelle's back hits the bookshelves with a bump, texts rattling and blooming dust. Her fingertips pry at the princess' jaw, forcing it open and keeping it that way.]

I will snap your neck. I will snap your neck, right here. Do you hear me, little girl? [Her words are rapid, seething with narrowed eyes.] You don't control what I do. No one does.

[Her arm eases back for a moment, only to tense again, the bookshelf giving another complaint.]

Do you understand me?

Edited 2012-02-02 16:18 (UTC)

[Uncomfortably being pressed into the book shelf, she does her best to squirm out of her grip, however her small frame is all too easy for the enraged woman to keep her hold on her. Never before had she had that kind of reaction when trying to heal someone. Never. She’s been told not to heal a certain race of creatures, one that died by her power due to not listening, but it was fine on humans, right? Her power could heal humans. Squeaks escape her forced open mouth, tears welling up in her eyes due to the physical pain she was in. All she wanted to do was help her, that’s all she wanted to do!

And those threats against her life do nothing to calm her. She’s not afraid to die, she’s been all too willing to give it up, but this… it scares her. This woman is angered with her, and there’s nothing she can do to protest. That next thrust against the bookshelf only causes her to cry out a bit, but she won’t cry, she can’t cry.

…what does she do? She was told it was okay to heal people, that it was a part of her selfless compassion, but this... it makes her sound selfish, something else she had been told too. All she wants to do is help her...

Then... maybe by helping her, she shouldn't? It doesn't really make sense in her mind... but nothing does... all of her thoughts are muddled right now.]

[Carla has little interest in being helped. She has always believed in self-sufficiency. Some people had their gods and their codes of honor, but Carla had that. A deep creed to stand for herself, to represent nothing but her own values. Those too weak, either of body or heart or mind, to defend themselves deserved all misfortune that befell them.

And Carla herself has been so terribly weak. Her entire existence subsumed by a cruel and thoughtless man who would not let her body die in peace. He had owned her, every inch and every moment belonged to him, but she's reclaimed her body now. She has a life of her own, pulse and breath and power.

It should be enough, but it isn't. It isn't enough and the sting of her wounds can fill the empty places for a little while. It's her only consolation, and it does nothing to soothe her wounded pride after those years of captivity. It does nothing to soothe her disgust for herself and for her love for her captor.]

Go cry somewhere else.

[Her voice is cold as she eases back.]

[She doesn’t know what to do when she hears that cold voice. Crying out for help is useless because no one will help her and she knows she’s hardly the victim in this situation. It’s just her life’s calling, to heal others and be thanked for it, this one instance is making her question it once more. Her power is all she knew she was good for for a majority of her life while she was locked away from the castle, raised to be a tool for the Empire.

But right now, she feels helpless, not really sure what choice to make in this situation. Choices… she was getting so good at making them for herself, but right now, she wants someone to make this one for her as either consequence could end up being bad. She’s still now, no longer squirming, but controlling herself so she wouldn’t cry despite the wetness in her eyes. Her breathing is uneven, a sign of how scared she is despite that stoic expression she’s trying to keep for Carla.]

[What a frustrating little girl. So obviously poisoned by altruism, the worst possible disease by Carla's worldview. But there was still this strange streak of stubbornness. Carla didn't want that stomped out, there was potential there.

Carla herself was dead. She had been shot years ago. She is living now on cursed time, there is no potential in her. There is no future, no hopes, no dreams, no wishes. There is nowhere to go. She knows the value of potential.

Honestly, for a moment Carla isn't sure what to do either. There is still anger trembling in the pit of her stomach, fear, but it's gone cold, just a lingering ache. She sighs.]

Come on.

[They've made enough of a scene here, Carla turns to find somewhere else to sit while she figures it out.]

[Seeing that initial anger wear off, Estelle feels relieved and it’s obvious. That hatred wasn’t enough to kill her off, and because of that Estelle knows she was right to see Carla as a good person, that there was good in there. A strange girl who can’t see evil despite all the corruption she’s seen in this world, unless it’s flat out shown to her.]

Okay…

[Her voice is soft, silent, but she does as Carla asks, doing her best to ignore the books strewn on the floor. She’d go and pick those up later. Her concern for the other woman far surpasses the state of the library. But she knows now not to heal her, at least not until she gets an explanation as to why she reacted the way she did.

She won’t run. She won’t be scared. This is going to be their secret. No one else will know what happened in here.]

[Carla goes looking for a place to sit, and when she finds a small table beneath a window, she takes one of the two chairs. She does so in silence, sitting back in the chair until she feels her tense back give a pop. She says nothing at all at first, but then she reaches up to the metal clasp on her bandages, unhooking it from the fabric so she can unwind it.

She had already said it was self-inflicted, and that is what it looks like. A scratched up throat, some marks already mostly healed, some scabbed over, some sewn closed. She doesn't put the bandages on the table, keeps them in her hand in the hopes that it might keep the sand from them.]

[It takes every ounce of energy not to react to those wounds as she sits down at the empty chair. Holding herself back from healing Carla is like trying not to breathe. It hurts to see those wounds that with one simple chant would be gone. Her hands go to grab the skirt of her dress if only to stop herself from clasping them together, which would lead her to unthinkingly cast a spell.

But nothing will stop her curiosity...]

Why... did you hurt yourself?

[There is no judgement in her voice at all, simply a tone of a naive young woman. One who clearly has not seen all these different sides of people.]

[This isn't entirely about Carla's throat. It's about a question Carla had refused to answer the last time they met.]

I spent two years as someone's possession.

[As someone’s possession. To her, possession is a synonym for ‘tool’. She wants to say that she sympathizes, empathizes even, however it’s not in her room to speak. Never has she inflicted self-harm despite pleas to be killed. She’s not really sure what to say. “What was it like?” It’s hardly a good experience, she knows this. But perhaps their experiences were different…

She’s curious, but there are no questions that come to her. She wants to know, but… part of her wonders if she already knows. Still, she remembers their conversation about her being ‘caged’.]

Were you considered a tool?

[She looks down at her own hand, her blastia still on her wrist, that elegant shape that holds the stone which helps give her power. She didn’t need it for the task at hand, but it’s always a nice thing to have in case she needs to fight. For without it, she’d simply be a frail princess who can heal.]

No.

[It's as simple as that.]

A useless doll.

[Why had Barbet resurrected her? Because she was beautiful. He had 'fixed' her after the bullet, there is little more than a dent in her forehead now. He had done everything he could to keep her perfect, keep her from rotting away. That was all she was when he did not think of her as a burden.]

[As someone’s possession but as a useless doll. Dolls she played with were once she played dress up with and had pretend tea parties with. They were her friends during her lonely childhood. Still, it hardly makes sense. Again, that sense of wanting to pry comes up once more, but she’s not sure if she wants to, if she’s allowed to. Should she talk about herself? Well, she really doesn’t want to… but should she?

No… She’s not proud of those times. She’s only proud of her friends and her ability to help them, proud of who she associates herself with…]

…why? Did the person you... um... ['Belonged to'] If that person didn't need you for anything, then why?

[Still, nothing can stave off her curiosity. If Carla chooses not to respond, she would understand.]

[There is a reason for this. Carla wants her to understand exactly why she doesn't want Estelle using those goddamn healing spells on her.]

He was selfish. And he wouldn't let me go after I died.

[That is a confession that does not come easily to Carla. She has not said it to anyone else, even those she is closest to and others who try to help her. Doctor Chase suspects, she knows that, but there's no one else.]

[She doesn’t appear to be surprised in the least hearing this. To raise the dead is something she knows of, a forbidden magic that has been used. One of her companions had died once before, being revived with the use of their world’s technology. Still, she was able to heal him and his injuries. Alexei was selfish too, reviving those who he thought would be of use to him, as tools. But this is different, very much so different…]

Did he have feelings for you?

[Love, a strong emotion she’s read of, one she feels a little as well. However, she can tell this is meant to be a secret, what she was just told. To the best of her ability, she will keep someone else’s secret. She can’t keep her own worth a darn, but for someone else, she would make sure it was safe with her.]

Not that he shared with me. The only time he loved me was when he could be the artist and I could be the work.

[Her identity as a human, as anything resembling an equal? All that had been absent from his care for her.]

He didn't care what was inside, as long as he could make its face beautiful.

[This is not exactly true, but Carla has never realized that.]

[To be revived because she was thought to be beautiful… A gift or a curse? She never spoke with Raven much about what it was like to be revived from the dead, but by the end of their journey, he seemed to be content with just living once more… but to be called a ‘piece of work’. She just falls silent, not really knowing what to ask, not even sure if her curiosity is there anymore as her hands loosen themselves from her dress. That impulse to heal is all but gone.]

I’m sorry…

[For what? She doesn’t know. Just that she felt an apology was needed right now. Maybe it was for trying to heal her when she didn't want to be...]

[Carla generally disdains apologies, but right now, she is willing to accept it. She doesn't say anything to acknowledge, however, just sits forward slightly to begin winding her neck back up.

Her voice is not angry as she murmurs,]

My body is my own, to do what I want with.

[That is the rule she is setting in front of Estelle.]

I understand.

[Her voice is strong when she says it, noting that Carla is someone she is not allowed to heal. Perhaps it would be best to compare her to the Entelexeia, with that comparison in mind, she believes it will stop her from even thinking of casting such a spell. Standing up from her seat as the other woman wraps her bandages around her neck, she scoots the chair back in waiting patiently for her to finish her task.]

[She remains seated a little longer, just taking a deep breath and tucking away the last of the panic and anger that had blossomed from her.]

I'm going to get back to work.

[She stands, brushes particles of sand from jeans.]

[With that response, Estelle gives her a short bow, showing her respect for Carla and her decision. It's not her right to even think of stepping in on a choice she made.]

Have a good day, Carla, and thank you.

[She smiles for her despite all that had occurred. She knows she's not a bad person at all. If she was, her life would have been taken, at least that's how she thinks of it. And off she walks from the library. She already has some books at home to read and it would be best to leave her be for now.]

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[audio]

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i feel like a monster 8'|

Hee hee, don't. I love it. ♥

-gathers up princess.-

-cuddles and loves-

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