my tears ricochet

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves
You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

It had been a while, and George was starting to worry.

Oh, he wasn't particularly worried that Ru had forgotten him. That, he could live with. No, he was more worried that he hadn't even received a rejection from her. Was she still alive, somewhere in the frigid north? Who could say? And so he'd packed his things, traveled to Halo, only to be directed to King's End (a strange place to find the Valkyrie, to be sure, given that he wasn't really aware of her history with the de facto ruler of the region). And at long last, here he was in King's End. More specifically, here he was at the House of Midnight. And though he had no qualms about entering a house of ill repute (although this one had quite a good reputation, as it turned out), it was not where he had expected to find Hotaru.

When he asked inside, someone fetched her from somewhere beyond the first floor of the brothel; he wasn't sure where she'd been or why, but he was beginning to suspect that that was none of his business anymore. Still, when she appeared, he gave his crooked smile and a wink, his tone friendly as he said, "You know, you're a hard woman to pin down, Hotaru."

But when they found themselves in a private room to talk, and things felt so horribly distant and uncomfortable, his face softened into one of understanding. Still, he wanted to hear what he suspected from her. "I never heard back from you," he said, hating how needy and pathetic that sounded, but wanting to open the floor for her rejection all the same.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
You turned into your worst fears

George

i've got this feeling, and i've got this shovel
between me and you you're in a lot of trouble

When she's fetched from her work carefully drying out and numbering the dream cacti spines she had harvested with Sunjata, the Valkyrie frowns and takes the container with her, assuming it will be something brief. Not many know to call on her here, which is curious unto itself - and she certainly doesn't expect to see George standing in the entryway, hovering near the receptionist's desk. Her heart drops to her feet for a brief moment.

Call her selfish, for she is, but Hotaru has forgotten most of the world around her since Sunjata came back into her life. Though she has done her fair share of rejecting men and women alike, George had truly done nothing to warrant it - aside from not being The Flood. It makes this unexpectedly difficult.

"Nobody can take you by surprise if they can't find you," is her rebuttal, witty as ever but conspicuously lackluster. "It appears you've defied the odds, however." As he often has.

Gesturing him into a room for the sake of privacy - though her skin prickles uncomfortably with the knowledge of how it might appear to anyone nearby - she sets the jar down on the entry table and pushes her hair back to give her hands something to do. Breaking someone's heart is easy when you don't care about how they feel, but for once Hotaru does. "So much happened at once..." she trails off, unsure where to even begin. Even looking at him is hard. Hard enough to prompt her to cross her arms in a habitually defensive motion, turning away to look out the magically-created balcony, doors opened wide with a warm ocean breeze billowing the linen curtains. Nearly an exact replica of her hotel room where she'd spoken with Sunjata that night after the bar opening.

because it's not murder if i bury you alive

HOTARU

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves
You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

Maybe it was selfish, but if she was selfish, then so was he, for even as he stood on the precipice of heartbreak, he longed to linger for just a few more moments in the hazy dream that was their relationship. But it was not to be: Hotaru crossed her arms and turned away, and in that moment, George knew that, whatever had happened, it had ended whatever they had been. He took a step closer, then hesitated, his gaze going to the jar on the entry table, his hand going to fiddle listlessly with the open container. He wasn't sure what was in it - spines, of some sort - but they were suddenly far more exciting than whatever conversation was sure to come next.

He could ask for explanations, but at the end of the day, it wouldn't ease the sting of rejection, and she didn't owe him anything. They'd made no vows to one another, no promises had gone unkept; had he not come to find her, perhaps she would have made it away with a clean break. So he simply sighed softly, a sad kind of sound for what might have been, and tried to think of something to say.

He started to speak, something to the effect of, "I just wanted to make sure you were alright," or perhaps "Are you happy?" or any number of other vague things to just make sure that whatever she had chosen was right for her; but then he felt a prick on a finger, and he looked down to find that one of the spines had shifted in the jar, stabbing delicately into the pad of his forefinger. Well, that was annoying. He put the jar down where he'd found it.

"Hotaru..." he started again, but there was something strange about the room, wasn't there? It was growing darker, ominous somehow, and he shifted uneasily, his hands going to the daggers he wore instinctively. When he looked back at Hotaru, it was no longer a woman he saw, but a monster: all sharp fangs and dripping blood, and for a moment he could only stare in horror.

And when he snapped out of it, he drew his blades.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
You turned into your worst fears

George

i've got this feeling, and i've got this shovel
between me and you you're in a lot of trouble

In all fairness, Hotaru had not been looking to make a clean getaway. Perhaps it's even crueler of a confession, but Hotaru simply had not thought of George since that night she asked Sunjata to kiss her in the fields beyond the House of Midnight. What was worse? To have someone run from you, or to be so insignificant as to be forgotten entirely?

Whatever he thinks of saying, it doesn't prompt her to turn - not until he says her name. Even then she hesitates, summoning her courage and the persona she will require to sever this neatly. Turning with a sharp inhale to try and get the words to come swiftly so they might both retreat from this awkward moment, it's punched right back out of her when she turns and sees George standing there, daggers drawn and face wild with - anger? Terror? Hotaru has never seen either on his face, and is too concerned with the sudden appearance of weaponry to linger there.

"George?" It's a cautious thing, but there's something sharp and forbidding beneath it. A warning that she never thought she'd have to issue to him. "Put the daggers away." A command this time, arms unfolding and hands rising, palms open in a deescalating stance.

because it's not murder if i bury you alive

HOTARU

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves
You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

Where was Hotaru? Was she somewhere beyond the dripping fangs and sharpened claws and glowing eyes?

Whatever Hotaru said, George didn't hear it. What he heard was garbled, warbling, grating - a cacophony of sounds like nails on a chalkboard, noises that didn't make any logical sense other than to set his nerves on fire. Suddenly nervous, for it had been some time since he'd had to fight anything outside of sparring with friends or, occasionally, reminding the other thieves what he was capable of, he only gripped the daggers more tightly. "Get away," he growled, determination entering his gaze to mingle with the horror that lingered there.

He stalked to one side, his eyes never leaving the creature that he couldn't recognize as Hotaru. He hoped that by circling behind it, he could find Hotaru and get her to safety; as such, he took a deep breath and lunged towards the monster, dagger outstretched, more concerned with moving the monster away from where he thought Hotaru was than killing it.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
You turned into your worst fears

George

i've got this feeling, and i've got this shovel
between me and you you're in a lot of trouble

His sudden ferocity doesn't match the pallor of his skin, but she can't find any other reasoning for his behavior. Not even the spines are disturbed on the entry table, which her eyes immediately fly to. Frowning, she considers still attempting to utilize her healing magic - but her distraction is all the opening he needs to lunge for her, dagger swiping and cutting horizontally across her extended forearm. Staggering backward with a shout of surprise that turns into a hiss of pain, she claps her hand instinctively over the wound to exert pressure and skirts further away from him - closer to the door.

"What the fuck, George!" It's the snarl of a wounded animal, but not yet a cornered one. She doesn't want to hurt him; something about this seems wrong. No matter how easily she could disarm him, it would come at the cost of hurting him, and part of her recoils at the idea of him hating her. Still, she waves her hand and sparks the intrinsic static electricity on his body into a pointed shock, hoping to snap him out of it.

because it's not murder if i bury you alive

HOTARU

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves
You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

It was with the ferocity of a cornered beast that he watched the monster, knowing that in this situation, it wouldn't be enough to simply run, as he might have done had he been alone. Somewhere behind the creature, he could hear Hotaru shouting, and though he couldn't hear what she was saying, she sounded like she was in pain. He had to get to her. He had to save her.

So he lunged, and felt a sick pleasure when his blade raked across the monster's skin. But to his surprise, as the creature skittered away from his attack, he found no sign of Hotaru. Somehow, her voice - in his drugged mind, now turned to frantic screams - was still coming from behind the monster. So it had her, somehow. Magic? He wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he had to get her back.

Then, suddenly, his entire body convulsed with a zap of electricity that felt far worse to him in his deranged state than it might have otherwise, and when the moment passed, he saw lightning flickering over the monster's skin. So it was magic, then. Well, it was a danger, whatever it was. To him, to Hotaru, to the whole damned brothel.

Maybe he could chase it out.

He lunged again, again aiming more to maim than to kill, hoping to get the creature to flee somewhere more open, where George could fight without fear of being cornered in a small, private room.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
You turned into your worst fears

George

i've got this feeling, and i've got this shovel
between me and you you're in a lot of trouble

Whatever is going on inside his head, her magic doesn't bring him back - and now is when Hotaru begins to doubt. Had she been wrong about him all this time? Had something sinister been hiding beneath those boyish smiles and endearingly honest words? Had she been wrong again? Merely a fool believing in love - her eternal Achilles heel - only to be betrayed time and time again? In his blue eyes and golden hair she sees Thranduil, and it makes her sick to her stomach.

Enough to fumble her dodge as he lunges for her, the small room working against her as she knocks into the low coffee table when she tries to evade - and this time the dagger digs far deeper into her side between her lowest rib and her hip, making her shout with real pain this time. "Fuck! Stop!" Shoving George backward with both hands, she shoves past him and lunges for the door, throwing it open, mind racing.

Where should she go? She can't use her more powerful magics indoors without risking the House of Midnight, and though she knows Sunjata would rather she be safe, the idea of burning another precious construct of his keeps her powers firmly locked down. "Get Sunjata!" she shouts at the bouncer, the full force of queenly regality coming down like a hammer that sends him running for the stairs. Hotaru prays the Flood is up there, but he hadn't been when she'd been summoned and -

From behind she can hear George pursuing her, and Hotaru curses colorfully and runs for the entry door, spinning halfway to keep eye contact with the thief. If he diverts from his path, maybe there's a different reason for his behavior. But if he pursues only her...then maybe she can't deny it any longer.

because it's not murder if i bury you alive

HOTARU

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves
You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

This time, his dagger cut deeper, and he pursued the monster with a kind of grim satisfaction. So far gone into the delusion was he that he didn't notice the bouncer run for help, or the horrified looks of the House of Midnight's patrons - looks that were directed at him, not at the creature he was trying so hard to protect them from.

The world was dark and eerie, twisted and unraveling in a way that didn't seem quite right, but didn't seem quite wrong, either. He had the sudden desire to laugh and cry and shout all at once, and for a moment, he wondered if he was losing his mind. But now was not the time for such nonsense, not when the monster had Hotaru, somehow, somewhere beyond its dark, shadowy form.

So he pressed on, following Hotaru out the entry door and into the world beyond. "Let her go!" he snarled as he pursued the monster, lunging forward as though to try and tackle the creature to the ground.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
You turned into your worst fears

George

i've got this feeling, and i've got this shovel
between me and you you're in a lot of trouble

She flies down the front steps and down onto the grass, immediately turning left to head further towards the snow-covered fields of Meadowreach. Farther from the House of Midnight and the road that leads to it. Just as she begins to shift - for she'll never be able to outrun him in human form given their height difference - George tackles her from behind, and Hotaru goes down hard beneath his bulk.

Normally this wouldn't be so hard to bear given she's much stronger than he is, but the weight of him on top of her and the fall itself lands straight on her wound, and the pain overtakes her in a blinding flash that makes her shriek wordlessly into the snow.

Immediately struggling, she elbows George hard from beneath, managing to turn onto her back as snow begins to soak through her clothes - crimson staining its pristine surface during the scuffle, surely making it look worse than it is. And considering how terrible this entire situation is already going, that must be impressive.

Hands electrified, she reaches for George's shoulders, face set in a feline snarl - only to falter as she looks into his eyes, second-guessing herself at the last minute. This is the same man who showed up with a picnic basket and a wishing stone to her front door, who had taken all her hangups and inquiries with grace. She can't do it - she can't -

Her hesitation is her downfall once again, one of George's hands clamping down over her throat until her head sinks backward into the snow, choking the air firmly from her lungs with the pressure of hard fingers over her carotid. Without having prepped for air, the Valkyrie panics, eyes already swimming - where was the dagger? He's going to kill me, she thinks, and in her terror she opens the bond as wide as she can, like a searchlight cast out over the snow. SUNNY!

because it's not murder if i bury you alive

HOTARU

don't try to follow me, i would hold you down if i could make you the enemy,

Suddenly, the air grows more frantic. It already had a touch of it, Sunjata breaking up a fight that had started over an occupied room. His adrenaline rushes a surprising amount for such a small thing to do, something he’s had to do numerous times for any other ridiculous reason. But the bouncer that comes to him is frantic for another reason, and the second Sunjata hears Hotaru’s name, everything blots out. Hotaru… help… is all that makes it through his mind before he’s switching places with the bouncer, commanding that he deal with finishing this altercation when he shifts to his bat shift, darting down the stairs and out through the entryway to go faster than his long legs could take him.

He shifts back into himself, feet landing on the ground as his body takes on half man half dragon, leathery wings outstretched and slit pupils scouting the dark, snowy world outside the warm doors of the House of Midnight, following the scent he knows deep in his heart to be Hotaru’s while it sits uncomfortably alongside the stark stench of iron. His heart lurches in his throat, his dragon shift taking the reins as he snarls, as he bolts toward the sound, toward Hotaru, toward being that protector now that he has a chance.

As far as he’s concerned, this stranger intends to kill her, and he refuses to lose someone else. He cannot fathom it. The only thing in his mind is to protect what’s his, to take the blows for her that he can, if he needs to. He must protect her, it’s the only way. The final nail in the coffin is the Sunny?! That shrieks through the bond, one that tears at that heartbroken void that keeps him empty, keeps him thinking that there’s something he could’ve done...

But he can do something about it this time. He will do something about it.

In fact, he arrives in a flurry of talons and plated scales and horns and sharp teeth and slit pupils and grabs George by the collar, hauling him off of her to toss him to the ground and pin him in turn, a sharp and guttural, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growls, sharp and deep and possessive over his treasure, his lover, his.

the flood

i would  let   you     d    o    w    n

totally sniped from odd ilu

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves
You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

Oh, for fuck's sake, there was another one?

Just when he thought he'd cornered the first monster, tackling it into the snow, pinning it to the ground, very nearly able to finish it off, he was grabbed from behind, tossed to the ground, and pinned beneath a hulking figure, larger by far than the first monster, but no less terrifying: all sharp teeth and talons, horns and glowing eyes, looking like something out of George's worst nightmares.

Somewhere around him, he thought he heard screams, and he struggled against the monster pinning him to the ground, desperate and wild in his attempt to find whoever was in trouble. Was it even Hotaru? Was it more than Hotaru? "Get off," he snarled, writhing beneath the winged creature that held him to the ground. Looking not unlike a captured animal, George looked frantically around, looking for the other monster. Where had it gone? Had it escaped? Was it waiting nearby for this one to finish him off?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
You turned into your worst fears

George

i've got this feeling, and i've got this shovel
between me and you you're in a lot of trouble

Hotaru knows she could kill George in the crush of her hand, but for once her heart - normally so iced and dismissive - holds back the blow that might save her. Already she has allowed him to get the upper hand too many times, weakening her out of sentimentality in a way no other foe would normally be allowed. It shatters her heart more with each passing moment, reinforcing old fears and demons Hotaru never thought would see the light of day again. Tingal's sneering face as he snapped her leg to keep her from running, Thranduil cooing venomous sweet words into her ears as she was poisoned, they both merge with George's blurred features as he shoves her by her neck into the snow.

She could never stand up against them, why would anything have changed now?

Why would she have changed?

Useless, soft-hearted Hotaru.

But this time, she isn't alone.

George is ripped off her so violently she hacks and coughs as air swiftly returns to her lungs, throat already purpling from George's grip. He didn't hold back at all, she realizes. Whatever is wrong with him - whether he truly is just a terrible man beneath it all, or something more complex is at play - there can be no more hesitation moving forward.

Rolling onto her uninjured side in a slow, painful motion, her heart flips in her chest to see Sunjata half-shifted and furious with George beneath his grip, magnificent and terrifying in the weak moonlight. Relief and terror stain her side of the bond which remains flayed open like a gaping wound, bleeding fear and confusion with every beat of her racing heart. He's here, he came, she's safe.

Getting to her knees, she stumbles towards them, unsure who she should be stopping at this point but knowing she needs to be by Sunjata's side. Only to immediately stagger and hit one knee, gripping the stab wound in her side with a hurt noise. He asked for me - he attacked me in the rooms - she tries to share, thoughts scattering beneath the encroaching shock. "George, stop," she growls, voice thick with pain, wondering if Sunjata even knows who it is beneath his hands. Trying to give the thief one last chance to prove her wrong.

because it's not murder if i bury you alive

HOTARU

don't try to follow me, i would hold you down if i could make you the enemy,

He doesn’t know who it is he’s ripped off of her, nor does he care in this moment. He rips the other man off, pins him to the ground, baring teeth the second the man tells him to get off. He won’t; not when the acrid scent of Hotaru’s blood invaded his senses, not when he knows that she’s hurt and this man had been the cause. So as she explains, as the name George fills the air, he can’t help the slightly deep growl that leaves him, courtesy of his dragon shift.

His taloned hands move quickly, stripping the stranger-not-stranger (purely based off of Hotaru’s and his conversations previously) of his weaponry — daggers flying into the moonlit snow, until he determines there’s close to nothing left for the man to use to try and fight him with.

But there’s the arrogance there too — of being Frey’s demigod, of having the power and strength to restrain him additionally if need be, though it doesn’t seem like he needs additional help. Do you know why? He sends to Hotaru silently before that deep voice airs again, a growled “What. Are. You. Doing?” Comes the clipped reiteration, hands holding George down but at an arms length, as if uncertain given their familiarity, but wanting an answer regardless.

Who would come into his space, his home seeking a fight?

the flood

i would  let   you     d    o    w    n

totally sniped from odd ilu