I will stand by you forever; you can take my breath away
It’s… beyond weird to be conscious during surgery. She can feel the intrusions, of course, the finger blades and the spray of fluid, and though there isn’t any pain her sensors register the damage. Still, the Wraith is immovable under the Remedy’s scalpels, as if she’d knelt under the Overseer’s knife many times before. It’s finally wrenched from her body and handed over without any fanfare, which causes the demigod to look up and answer Jata’s statement flatly, “Ronin carved it out. And then it exploded.”
She’d forgotten about that. Flashing Sunjata an apologetic look, the Wraith begins the self-heal while turning to the Huntsman and nods, wordless, because she, too, can be petty and has nothing to say to him.
Her preparation, however, it interrupted - and Gods is the choice of a lifetime laid out before the two women. Wessex tries to imagine what might come in the wake of Remi’s death - Ronin and Noah, charging into the Grounds. Deimos with them, maybe. Hotaru upset. Their neighbor, less of a threat now, and the Old Gods’ powerhouse crippled. They’d both read the book, they know what Remi can do, the Relics he has and - and the war on his heels of his death. But they could scatter to the winds for a season, if need be, couldn’t they?
Wessex had always said she’d make the hard decisions when they came to her, and so she does so now, keeping her eyes on the larger picture instead of this small battle. Only if it's permanent, if Isla agrees, she decides, before turning her supplications to Isla. Isla? He can trap us with a single touch and we’d never even know he’s there. Before we ever get a chance to fight! Nate and I can barely take Ronin, we can't handle both of them, we can't, we can't we CAN'T- please, Isla - Had anyone ever heard the Wraith beg? She does so now, unabashedly, the timbre and tone of her mental voice cracking in earnest. She has to convince the Remedy, she simply has to, there isn't another option. Please. For Azrael. So they get a chance to rebuild the world. And Cameron and Ophelia and Cal and - and all our lives.
She’d forgotten about that. Flashing Sunjata an apologetic look, the Wraith begins the self-heal while turning to the Huntsman and nods, wordless, because she, too, can be petty and has nothing to say to him.
Her preparation, however, it interrupted - and Gods is the choice of a lifetime laid out before the two women. Wessex tries to imagine what might come in the wake of Remi’s death - Ronin and Noah, charging into the Grounds. Deimos with them, maybe. Hotaru upset. Their neighbor, less of a threat now, and the Old Gods’ powerhouse crippled. They’d both read the book, they know what Remi can do, the Relics he has and - and the war on his heels of his death. But they could scatter to the winds for a season, if need be, couldn’t they?
Wessex had always said she’d make the hard decisions when they came to her, and so she does so now, keeping her eyes on the larger picture instead of this small battle. Only if it's permanent, if Isla agrees, she decides, before turning her supplications to Isla. Isla? He can trap us with a single touch and we’d never even know he’s there. Before we ever get a chance to fight! Nate and I can barely take Ronin, we can't handle both of them, we can't, we can't we CAN'T- please, Isla - Had anyone ever heard the Wraith beg? She does so now, unabashedly, the timbre and tone of her mental voice cracking in earnest. She has to convince the Remedy, she simply has to, there isn't another option. Please. For Azrael. So they get a chance to rebuild the world. And Cameron and Ophelia and Cal and - and all our lives.
WESSEX
