Chapter purgatory: Idren/Ida's 101 (Patreon)

(a/n: hello! This is the chapter of Idren/Ida's 101 that was removed from the demo, now available to you! I can't wait to rewrite this and place it back into the game. It has some solid bones, but needs a touch more depth, and, of course, the last missing scenes. The chapter is the first step on an allies or enemies path with Id-- the choices you make here decide whether on not they'll trust you with some sensitive info. HEHE.)

The platform descends into a shaft of craggy rock, different from the structured bricks that serve as the Hedge’s foundation. The air grows mustier the further you go, like the walls are sweating with the moisture trapped below ground. You watch the gleaming stone as you pass, no gates or barriers hindering your view. A deep black, streaked with veins of lapis lazuli that glitters in the dim light. The ultramarine color is so intense that it seems to glow with its own radiance, like a starry sky trapped within the earth. 

Your curiosity finally conquers; the wall smooth to your inquisitive touch, cool and slick with the moisture that clings to its surface. It makes you wonder more than once, if this truly is the best place for a library.

The lift seems to go on forever, gliding ever deeper into the earth with a quiet and eerie grace. The only sound is the soft hum of the lift, the only light from the glowing banner reflecting off the dark, wet rock. 

When it finally stops, it does so with a small, airy bounce as it settles, as if there's still miles of empty space beneath and the lift was set to continue deeper before deciding differently. You cast a wary glance upward before you step off the platform, the light that marks surface level so infinitely far away that it's nothing but a pinprick, a twinkling star. You turn your eyes away when you start swaying in your spot, wondering just how far into the earth you have descended.

*page_break You look toward the cascading depth of the archives.

Awe blooms in your chest as you take in the catacomb before you. High vaults of carved rock extend seemingly endlessly, curving over high bookshelves in ongoing rows. The moisture is gone, replaced with cool, brisk air that brings an unexpected freshness. There is none of the murkiness you were expecting, no cavernous dark with dripping stalactites. 

Instead, a pristine Grand Archive unfurls before you as you start to walk deeper, marble pillars soaring dizzyingly high above you. 

Long networks of shelves branch out in every direction, interrupted at regular intervals with seating areas, furnished with both couches and desks in rich, carved wood and plush leather, placed close enough together to facilitate hushed conversation. Free floating flames are kept in baubles that float above the tables, pooling warm light in the intimate reading nooks.

The archive seems unoccupied apart from the occasional sharp sound of a clearing throat, or the scratch of a turning page. There could be hundreds of people here, and it would still feel desolate. 

Faint suggestions of whispers reach you in some passages, floating on warm currents of air that radiate from gated fireplaces. You continue walking, the sound of each footfall bouncing off the walls like a drumbeat, resounding through the space, amplifying until it feels like a constant assault on your ears. 

*page_break You turn a corner.

As you approach another seating area, the muffled sounds of hushed voices intensify. The orange light of gathered baubles spills out from the wide space between two towering shelves. A sign above bears an intricate inscription of [i]Anatomia Humana[/i], with a subheader etched beneath, [i]Metamorphoses Novus[/i]. 

The thudding of your own heart now drowns out the sound of your footsteps as you slow your stride to a cautious creep, approaching the source of the whispers while inching forward as quietly as possible. Another hushed murmur reaches you, and your body is instantly engulfed with a pulsing wave of anger. 

“No luck this time either.” $!{idren} says, shutting a book with a defeated clap. 

You knew you could encounter ${id_him} here, and yet you went as if driven by something... Something you'd rather not contemplate. 

You grip the edge of the shelf, cloaking yourself further in the shaft of shadow provided by the tower of wooden craftsmanship, the carved patterns imprinting on the skin of your hands. You force yourself to calm.

*choice

    #Eavesdrop.

        *goto eavesdrop

    #I’ll make my presence known.

        *goto imhere

    #That ${id_bastard}… [i]I’ll kill ${id_him}.[/i]

        *goto idfightfight

*label eavesdrop

Your eyes glide over the edge of the shelf you hide behind, finding $!{idren} and Lyselin sitting across from each other in a corner. $!{idren}’s frame lingers almost entirely in shadows, sprawled on a plush futon, and Lyselin's familiar ${le_skin} complexion is gently illuminated by the faint glow of a nearby lantern. Your quickened breath seems to echo off the shelves around you, your heart hammering in your chest in a flutter that you are incapable of distinguishing as either nervousness or anger, or... 

You involuntarily flinch and your breath stalls as $!{idren} rises from ${id_his} futon. You tuck yourself closer to the shelf, pressing your palms against the wood to swiftly be able to push away, if you are discovered. Your eyes glide over the edge again.

$!{idren} looks agitated, as always, pacing back and forth as ${id_he} speaks. $!{id_he} has an air of desperation to ${id_his} movements, ${id_his} voice choppy with restless tension. 

"I've looked everywhere and still can't find a way to get it back. It's been decades, and we’re no closer to a solution than we were when we started." 

Lyselin sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "I know it's hard, $!{idren}. But we have made incredible progress. We only got the armor working not even a day ago! Maybe it is time for you to just… enjoy that, for a while."

$!{idren} snorts. "What? And just give up? [i]Settle?[/i] That's not an option. I'm not going to just settle."

"I'm not saying give up," Lyselin says softly. "But you can't keep obsessing over this. The armor works, no? Only yesterday did you revel in being able to read on your own again--

“Now you won’t read for me anymore,”

“--and how you said warmth felt--”

“Lys, this is an entirely different--”

“--and don’t think I missed your moping after visiting $!{pcname}. What happened there?”

$!{idren} violently shakes ${id_his} head, dismissing Lyselin with a grim chop of ${id_his} fist to the table. $!{id_he} leans over it, crowding Lyselin with the bulk of ${id_his} armor.  "No. I can't take time off. Not now. Not when I'm this close."

Lyselin sighs. "${idren}. I know you don’t want to talk about this--”

“And yet you insist.”

She laughs then, amusement muffling her next words. “You are so easy to see through, yet so hard to reach.”

“And maybe, I prefer it that way.”

“You sound like someone I used to know. It’s not like you are burying yourself in work now, that--”

“Do not go there, Lys. I can’t--” $!{idren} pauses and looks away. "I can't."

You watch as Lyselin places a frail hand over $!{idren}'s gleaming armor. Your heart thunders in your ears, racing the tempo of $!{idren}'s nervously tapping foot. Your gaze flicks back to Lys as she parts her lips to speak again, hesitation making her voice thin.

“Have you even tried just [i]talking[/i] to ${him}?”

$!{idren} laughs now, but it is a hollow, bitter sound. “I’m not going to do that again. We always end up fighting.”

“Mhm. And that is not entirely ${his} fault, is it?

$!{idren} gives a gruff grunt in response, engrossing ${id_himself} in one of the thick tomes still splayed on the table. 

“But this isn’t just about you and ${him},” Lyselin says, her voice casually flipping to another tone, still trying to breach ${id_his} impenetrable shield. “This is about getting your body back. Getting your [i]blood[/i] back. Getting answers that have been owed to us for centuries. You have to put aside your differences for this. And who knows, during the mission, maybe you’ll get a moment to weather out that rank animosity between you.”

$!{idren} is silent for a moment, and you can tell that ${id_he} is considering it. You aren’t even aware of how your stomach seizes with tensed muscles as you wait for ${id_his} answer. Somewhere in the darkest depths of your agonized soul, a match struck off, flicking a flame over deposits of hope you never thought to possess. Your mind spins wild stories of how your reunion could go, how well you could land a punch, or how easy it would be to let bygones be bygones, inviting something new—

*page_break

"No," ${id_he} says with finality, and the match snuffs out into ephemeral darkness. "Drop it."

"$!{idren}…" Lyselin says, her voice pleading.

"[i]No[/i],” ${id_his} voice firm now, unyielding. "We’ll find another way."

You step back, your heart stuttering from adrenaline. Somewhere cloaked within the fog of war between the two of you, you had been hoping that $!{idren} would at least [i]consider[/i] talking to you, but it seemed like ${id_he} has completely shut you out of the equation. [i]So be it.[/i] You shift the weight on your feet, about to turn and leave when you hear Lyselin’s voice again.

“You have to tell ${him} how you feel.”

[i]Feel?[/i] 

“Why are you pushing me on this?” $!{idren} hisses, ${id_his} voice rising in defiance.

“I have no choice,” Lyselins raised whisper fires back. “I have to draw the line somewhere. You’re a mess, $!{idren}. You have to tell ${him} how you feel, or let it go. You can’t keep it inside anymore. So much time has passed, and ${leith}--”

Your vision swirls, and you lick your lips to bring moisture into your dry mouth. Your heart is so loud, so loud that you are surprised the books don't fall of the shelves from the thunder of it.

“Don’t bring ${le_him} into this.” $!{idren} groans, and you can't help but agree. 

“$!{leith} wanted more for you. Both of you. $!{le_he} would have locked you in a room until you spoke and solved this festering mess between you.”

*if (ilpoly=true) 

    You nearly jump out of your skin when something heavy lands on the bookshelf you are hiding against. You want to click your tongue, reprimand ${idren} for always resorting to violence when ${id_he} can't express ${id_his} emotions. But you won't. You stay silent, waiting for the conversation to start again, sweat beading on your palms.

    "I know," $!{idren} whispers, and there is no mistaking the grief in ${id_his} voice. It shears through your heart. When you hear the clink and clang of ${id_his} receding footsteps, you dare a peek beyond your cover. $!{idren} is slumped against the table, ${id_his} mask resting against the surface. You duck back against the shelf as ${id_he} starts speaking again. 

    "It feels like ${he} stole that grief from me. $!{he} got to mope in the privacy of their home, while I was the new lab-rat of Oakwerths scientist. $!{he} left me for dead! Not even a second glance over ${his} shoulder, not even…"

    "You did try to murder him."

    "Don't you think I know that!" $!{idren} lashes out, and your gut drops at a thousand miles an hour. You know the feeling of that betrayal very intimately, too. "I didn't mean it. I— there was nothing left. I felt… I felt cornered. Thrashing like an animal. I couldn't say—" $!{idren} grows quiet.

    "Couldn't say what?" Lyselins voice is thick with grief now, too. It is silent for a long time, until $!{idren} rasps out,

    "That I loved ${him}. That I [i]love[/i] ${him}. That we could grieve together, if only—"

    "If only?" 

    "If only he [i]saw[/i] me. Saw what ${he}… what this did to me."

*else

    "Well, ${le_he} is not here to fix this mess, Lyselin," $!{idren} snaps. "Neither are you!" 

    "That is unfair. Don't say that."

    "You are the one trying to mend what is broken beyond repair! You know I have tried to— tried to kill ${him}. I wasn't there for ${him}, ${he} wasn't there for me… Not you, not $!{leith}, no one can fix this. Leave it alone."

    "I'm—" Lyselins voice is soft, cajoling. "I just want you to find the pieces of you that were lost. And $!{pcname} was a core piece. You know that as well as I."

    $!{idren} growls, and thuds ${id_his} fist against the table. "I'm [i]tired[/i] of everyone trying to fix me. I'm not broken, I'm just...lost."

    "So why do you ignore the signposts that could lead you home?"

*page_break

Your insides churn with a nauseating mixture of grief and anger as your unsettling past lingers in the air like a noxious cloud. The words spoken beyond your hiding spot strike at the very core of your being, tearing open wounds that you thought had long since patched, however shoddily. You strain to hear more, desperate for answers to questions you never wanted to ask. Your breaths come in shallow puffs, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal that stabs at your heart.

You press your back against the cold, unyielding wall of the bookshelf, your fists clenching so tightly that your nails dig into your palms. The pain is a welcome distraction. You can feel your jaw tightening, the muscles in your face contorting with the effort to hold back the roar that threatens to escape.

The urge to burst into the room and confront the source of your pain is overwhelming, but you know that it would only lead to more heartache. You are paralyzed, trapped by the grief that weighs heavy on your soul. The thought of facing them, of pretending that everything is done and dusted, is almost too much to bear.

Your mind races, searching for a way out of this unbearable situation. But even as you plot your escape, a small part of you longs to step forward, to face the truth and confront the pain head-on. It's a dangerous impulse, but you can't help the yearning that tugs at your heart.

The ache of lost love fills every fiber of your being, and you can't help but wonder if you will ever find peace. The conversation is still ongoing even as your loud thoughts drown it out. You snap into reality when you catch them talking about you again.

“I’m trying to help you,” Lyselin says quietly. “And I know you still care about $!{pcname}.”

“That’s not true.” It comes out tight and strained, a croak. “That is not--”

"No?"

"We're done here." $!{idren} rises out of ${id_his} seat, the loud whine of the furniture announcing ${id_his} departure.

*fake_choice

    #I need to leave. Now!

        *goto ideaves_leave

    #I take a breath and walk in there, regretting it instantly.

        *goto ideaves_stay

*label ideaves_leave

As silently as your feet will carry you, you rush past two more aisles of bookshelves before ducking into a secluded corner. Pulling a book from the shelf, you use it to shield your face as you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. The sound of $!{idren}'s angry footsteps echoes through the aisle, ${id_his} bootheels crisp as gunshots against hardness of the marble floor. They grow louder and then softer as ${id_he} passes by. Once you are sure of ${id_his} departure, you peek out and watch ${idren}'s form receding.

"You'd think ${id_he} would at least the spare us the sound of ${id_his} dismissal, no?" 

You startle and swivel your head to the right, where Lyselin sits in her high-backed wheelchair beside you. She looks up at you with a brow quirked in inquiry. Your stomach drops.

"Oh, yes. I knew you were there, sweetling."

Your mouth forms around words you can't bring yourself to say.

"Not that it brought any more clarity. Ha," she snorts without glee. "You two will be the death of me."

*fake_choice

    #"Me too," I say, turning my gaze back to where ${idren} is a small speck of motion.

        "Then it is long past due to talk about it, no?" Lyselin sighs and rolls into the nook. She pats the empty chair by the crackling fireplace, before she assumes her place beside it. "Indulge me, please. Come, sit."

    #"...you think ${id_he} knows too?"

        "$!{idren} hardly sees past ${id_his} own nose. Or mask? You know what I mean." Lyselin sighs and rolls into the nook. She pats the empty chair by the crackling fireplace, before she assumes her place beside it. "Let's talk. Come, sit."

    #"Why didn't you say anything?"

        "This is not my problem to solve," Lyselin sighs and rolls into the nook. She pats the empty chair by the crackling fireplace, inviting you to sit. "As much as I would like to. You two are both stubborn as mules. Come, sit."

You find yourself unwilling to leave, and curious about what she has to say. So you take your seat, the leather creaking as you sink into it. 

*page_break "How did you know?"

Lyselin taps a finger to her nose. "A lady never kisses and tells." 

She smiles at you, but you look away, aiming your gaze at the floating embers from the dying fire, following the poker's stabs when Lyselin agitates it into a dancing flame.

*if (lyselin_friend=true)

    "I've missed you." You blurt it out, your voice rough as it tumbles through the swollen canal of your throat.

    "I've always been here." She says, and looks at you not with pity, nor anger, but something that hurts even deeper. Empathy. "Waiting is no matter for us. I only wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself for so long. Things could have been… Simpler."

    You open your mouth to speak, but it is too tightened with emotion, tightly pursed against the kind of reflection you fear.

    "But that doesn't mean it was easy, I know." Lys says, and rubs at her temples. "We did what we thought best."

    You don't dare answer; it is stuck in your throat. Silence weighs between you, a large, living thing. Whenever you spare glances her way, your stomach contracts, feeding you images of $!{leith}, laughing; ${le_his} lips so similar to Lyselins. The slope of her nose, too, seems to catch shadow just the way $!{leith}'s did. 

*if (lyselin_friend=false)

    Silence weighs between you, a large, living thing. Whenever you spare glances her way, your stomach contracts, feeding you images of $!{leith}, laughing; ${le_his} lips so similar to Lyselins. The slope of her nose, too, seems to catch shadow just the way $!{leith}'s did. 

"Why did you come down here?" Lyselin finally asks, her hands in her lap.

*fake_choice

    #"I was...visited. I needed to speak to someone about it. [[i]Tell Lyselin about Lena[/i]]

        *ending

    #"I just wanted to get out of my quarters." [[i]Keep Lena a secret[/i]]

        *ending

*goto collectionpoint

*label ideaves_stay

You turn the corner of the towering bookshelf, placing yourself at the exit, your arms a leaden weight at your sides. Your fingers twitch.

"You…" $!{idren} snarls, and shoots towards you; ${id_his} whole body leaning over ${id_his} legs as if ${id_he} can't reach you fast enough. $!{id_he} winds up ${id_his} fist in a damning punch, and you barely have time to duck before it swings at your face. 

"You follow me like a stray dog?!" $!{idren} shouts, and swings another punch. You escape this one too, with a shove to ${id_his} chest, and as ${id_his} body slams against the bookshelf you were hiding behind, you backtrack to build some space between you. Adrenaline pumps out into your veins, fuzzing your vision.

*fake_choice

    #"A dog. A [i]dog[/i], $!{idren}? Is that all you have?! Come at me, coward." 

        *goto ideavesfight

    #I raise my hands. "Stop it, will you! I was only walking past."

        $!{idren}'s face bores into you with a fiery intensity, though the void of ${id_his} mask tells you nothing. 

        "Don't lie to me." $!{id_he} growls, taking a step closer. "If you were just walking past, why were you hiding behind that bookshelf?" ${id_he} snarls, lashing ${id_his} arm out to point to the shelves behind you.

        Your heart races as you try to come up with an excuse, but the words catch in your throat. The cold radiating from ${id_his} body crackles like thin ice, breaking atop a spring river. 

        You swallow. You save face by shrugging, trying to look casual. "I wasn't hiding. I just happened to be there."

        ${idren} steps towards you, and you step back. "I don't believe you," ${id_he} growls.

        "Believe what you want," you say, trying to sound nonchalant. "I wasn't—"

        $!{idren} steps even closer, studying you intently. After a moment, ${id_he} seems to decide something, and ${id_he} steps back. "Fine," ${id_he} says, then turns to leave. Before ${id_he} goes, ${id_he} tosses the next words over ${id_his} shoulders with the kind of dispassionate air you know precedes a lie. 

        "Stay the fuck away from me."

        $!{idren} stalks away from you, ${id_his} ink swirling around ${id_him} like hissing, agitated serpents. $!{id_he} turns and disappears through the arch of rattled shelves, ${id_his} footsteps echoing down the hall, crisp as gunshots.

        *page_break

        *goto lystalk

*label ideavesfight

You lower yourself, breathing through your nose; a bull, ready to launch. $!{idren} steps away from the shelves, rattled books falling from where ${id_his} form landed with dull smacks against the carpeted floor. $!{id_he} dusts off ${id_his} chest, as if your touch left some unwanted residue. $!{id_he} laughs.

"You think you're so clever, so impenetrable, don't you? I could kill you so easily now, but you know why I won't?" 

You don't get a chance to reply before ${id_he} continues, seething, slowly creeping towards you with silent, stalking steps. "All of this, this whole farce, is for you, and you are too numb to even recognize it. You have grown too bitter— too disturbed to see, too damaged to feel. Hate me, if it makes the grief easier to bear. But don't take out your petty grievances on me. Don't. Blame. Me." $!{id_his} voice drops to a dangerous whisper, as $!{id_he} comes to a stop just inches away from you.  "One day, you will see what you have done to me. You will feel my pain and regret the day you turned your back on me. You can act all you want, but I know you still feel, within that rotten husk you still puppet as a body. I will [i]find[/i] it. And when I do, I will use it to break you, to make you feel everything you have been running away from for so long.  And—"

*if (ilpoly=true)

    "You think I'm the one who's numb?" You interrupt, your voice quivering with a mixture of anger and pain. "You're the one who destroyed everything we had, everything we built together. You think you can blame me for your own mistakes?"

    You take a step forward, closing the distance between you and ${id_him}. "You talk about my petty grievances, but what about yours? You couldn't handle the fact that I was closer to ${le_him} than you, that I didn't [i]need[/i] you to grieve. So you turned on me, just like you turn on everyone who threatens your fragile ego."

    $!{idren} visibly flinches at your words, but ${id_his} body still reverberates with anger. "You have no idea what I've been through," ${id_he} spits.

    "Neither do you," you reply. "You have no idea what I've been through since the day I left. But unlike you, I didn't let it turn me into a monster."

    "Debatable." 

    Silence hangs heavy between you, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, ${id_he} speaks again, ${id_his} voice low and dangerous. "And yet, here you are. Still chasing after me. Still trying to prove something, even though you know deep down you can [i]never[/i] win it back."

    You stare at ${id_him}, knowing that ${id_he}'s right. You can never win this game, this endless cycle of pain and bitterness. But you refuse to let ${id_him} see your weakness.

    "And yet, here you are," you say, your voice steady. "Still trying to control me, still trying to make me feel something through your stupid mind-games. But you know what? I won't give you the satisfaction. I won't let you break me again. [i]Never[/i] again."

*else

    You step forward, into the searing cold that radiates from ${idren}'s body. 

    *if (height="short")

        Your chin tilts defiantly as your eyes narrow, $!{idren} pressing ${id_himself} so close you can almost feel that something living squirms inside the armor ${id_he} wears. $!{id_he} looms above you, head tilted to swallow your stare in the void of ${id_his} face, wisps lashing out from behind ${id_his} mask. You sneer. "And?"

    *if (height = "average")

        You meet ${id_him} at eye-level, your ${eyes} stare boring into the void that makes up ${id_his} face. You take a step closer still, advancing though your stature is such a close match; perhaps because of it. You press together, simmering, the tip of your nose caressed by the agitated wisps that leak from out behind ${id_his} mask. "And?"

    *if (height = "tall")

        You step into ${id_him}, the bulk of your body enveloping ${id_him} in a wall of warm flesh, your eyes stern as you regard ${id_him} from your looming position. You catch the signs of ${id_him} squirming beneath you, challenging your stance though all ${id_he} wants is to cower. [i]That's right.[/i] Your voice seeps out from clenched teeth. "And?"

$!{id_he} doesn't answer, instead swings at you, but you dodge this time, your body moving with swift grace. You retaliate with a punch of your own, swatted away like a fly by $!{idren}'s quick reflex, and you are yanked close again by the grip ${id_he} caught on your wrist. $!{id_he} catches you in the gut and knocks the wind out of you; you double over, gasping for air, and ${id_he} looms over you.

"You want to fight, is that it?" ${id_he} sneers. "Fine. Let's fight. May the strongest prevail."

Lyselin tries to intervene, but $!{idren} swats her away with a dismissive flick of ${id_his} wrist, ${id_his} attention solely focused on you. The ink of ${id_his} body spreads outwards in waves, creeping out from behind ${id_his} mask and hood like an omen, drifting over the back of your hand; ${id_he} still holds it against ${id_his} chest. There is no heartbeat there, only the icy heat of ${id_his} fury that burns against your skin, too much to bear. 

You try to stand, but ${id_he} kicks you in the knee, sending you back down to the ground. $!{id_he} twists your arm behind your back, causing you to cry out in pain, cut short by the humiliation that forces your mouth shut.

"Still think you can take me?" $!{id_he} taunts, digging ${id_his} knee into your spine. "You're weak, and you always have been."

Lyselin watches you wide-eyed from the table, her jaw slacking. When $!{idren}'s armor creaks, and your shoulder, your spine, your [i]heart[/i] aches with ${id_his} renewed effort, she reacts and shoots out of her chair with a pained gasp. Her palms slap against the table. "Enough! [i]This[/i] is home ground. You two have to share it. $!{idren}, last I remember you [i]wanted[/i] $!{pcname} here. Act like it."

*fake_choice

    #I grit out, "[i]Get off me.[/i]"

        $!{idren} shoves you away and turns, directing ${id_his} ire at Lyselin, ${id_his} chest heaving with trembling anger. "This is not about sharing space," ${id_he} growls. "This is about ${his} betrayal."

        You raise an eyebrow, amused, even as you rub at the offending pain in your shoulder. "Betrayal? That's a strong word, considering the way you treated me."

        ${idren} leans closer, wisps of mist whipping against ${id_his} form. "[i]You[/i] abandoned us when we needed you the most. [i]You[/i] left us to fend for ourselves."

        "That's not what happened," you reply, your voice deceptively steady. "I had to leave. You know that. You made sure of that."

        Lyselin clears her throat, cutting through the tension once more. "I don't know what happened between the lines of your story, but you need to find a way to coexist. We have more important things to worry about than your personal issues."

        $!{idren}'s face flicks frighteningly fast to Lyselin. "[i]Et tu[/i]?"

        Lyselin's gaze doesn't waver, but a frown etches into place between her brows. It guts you to see, the lines so familiar you can barely distinguish them from love once lost. A breath shudders from your lips.

        "Fine," $!{idren} finally says through gritted teeth, an ephemeral growl. $!{id_he} turns back to you. "But don't think this is over."

        You shrug nonchalantly. "I wouldn't dream of it."

        $!{idren} stalks away from you, ${id_his} ink swirling around ${id_him} like hissing, agitated serpents. $!{id_he} turns and disappears through the arch of rattled shelves, ${id_his} footsteps echoing down the hall, crisp as gunshots. 

        *goto lystalk

    #"This is between us!" I roar at her, before I turn to leave. 

        $!{idren} shoves you away and turns, directing ${id_his} ire at Lyselin, ${id_his} chest heaving with trembling anger. "This is not about anything," ${id_he} growls, "but ${his} betrayal."

        "Betrayal?" You roar at $!{idren}'s back, fury reigniting like struck flint. "You think you are the innocent in this?"

        $!{idren} doesn't reply, doesn't acknowledge either of you. $!{id_he} storms away, ${id_his} ink swirling around ${id_him} like hissing, agitated serpents. $!{id_he} doesn't stop, doesn't spare you a glance as id_he turns and disappears past the arch of rattled shelves, ${id_his} footsteps echoing down the hall, crisp as gunshots. 

        Lyselin's eyes narrow, and she pushes away from the table to take a unsteady step towards you. "No, ${id_he}'s not. But you are not the only person who matters here." She places a hand on your arm, the touch surprisingly gentle. "I know you're hurting, but you can't just take it out on everyone around you. We're here for you, but you need to let us help."

        You jerk your arm out of her grasp, the anger still boiling under your skin. "I don't need your help," you spit out. "I can handle myself."

        Lyselin's expression softens, and she sighs heavily. "You don't have to face this alone."

        You shake your head, not wanting to hear any more of her platitudes. Without another word, you turn and storm out of the room, humiliation still simmering in your veins. You make sure to walk the opposite direction of where $!{idren} left.

        *ending

    #I turn to $!{idren}, trying to diffuse the situation. "You wanted me here? Why, target practice?"

        $!{id_he} mutters, facing away from you. "Something like that."

        *ending

    *if (lyselin_friend=true)

        #"I'm sorry to meet you like this, Lys."

            "Don't worry about that," she says, her face weighed down by sorrow. "I'm happy you are here. It must be a tremendous adjustment."

            "You could say that." You offer her a weak smile.

            *if (id_hurt >0)

                $!{idren} stalks away from you, ${id_his} ink swirling around ${id_him} like hissing, agitated serpents. You watch as ${id_he} turns to step towards you, but then decides differently. $!{id_he} turns and disappears through the arch of rattled shelves, ${id_his} footsteps echoing down the hall, crisp as gunshots. 

            *else

                "Well," Lyselin rolls her wheelchair out, preparing to leave. "I think you two have enough to discuss without me here. I'll see you around, $!{pcname}.

                *ending

*comment lys leaves you to it, and you discuss, unless id_hurt, he leaves.

*comment END

*goto collectionpoint

*label lystalk

"This is not my problem to solve," Lyselin clicks her tongue and rolls to the setting by the fire. She pats the empty chair by the crackling fireplace, inviting you to sit. "As much as I would like to. You two are both stubborn as mules. Come, sit."

You take your seat, the leather creaking as you sink into the well worn comfort of it.

*page_break "$!{id_he} brings out the worst in me."

"Like you do to ${id_him}. I can't imagine a world without it anymore." She snorts, smiles at you, but you look away: aiming your gaze at the floating embers from the dying fire, following the poker's stabs when Lyselin agitates it into a dancing flame. 

*if (lyselin_friend=true)

    "I've missed you." You blurt it out, your voice rough as it tumbles through the swollen canal of your throat.

    "I've always been here." She says, and looks at you not with pity, nor anger, but something that hurts even deeper. Empathy. "Waiting is no matter for us. I only wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself for so long. Things could have been… Simpler."

    You open your mouth to speak, but it is too tightened with emotion, tightly pursed against the kind of reflection you fear.

    "But that doesn't mean it was easy, I know." Lys says, and rubs at her temples. "We did what we thought best."

*if (lyselin_friend=false)

    "How… How are you?"

    "I'm…" She clears her throat. "I am well enough." 

The atmosphere around you, the uncomfortable monumental archive that towers above and beyond you, makes you feel so infinitely small in comparison. This whole ordeal fits like ill-fitting clothes you have been forced to wear. With heavy breath, you lean back into the chair and stare at the ceiling. A familiar emotion stirs in you, that awful nagging of unfairness scratching on your insides like nails on a chalkboard.

"Why did you come down here?" Lyselin finally asks, her hands in her lap.

*fake_choice

    #"I was...visited. I needed to speak to someone about it. [[i]Tell Lyselin about Lena[/i]]

        *ending

    #I just wanted to get out of my quarters. [[i]Keep Lena a secret[/i]]

        *ending

*label imhere

You step into the space, announcing your presence with a fiery hot glare. 

"$!{idren}." You growl, and then look to ${id_his} company, who is

*if (lyselin_friend = true)

    none other than Lyselin. Your heart cinches. For a second, when you meet her eyes, all you see is $!{leith}, staring back at you with a familiar ${le_eyes} gaze. 

*else

    a woman of small stature that you can't quite place, but recognize. It dawns on you an instant later, when the familiarity of ${le_eyes} eyes meet yours. $!{leith}'s sister. [i]Lyselin[/i].

"Lyselin." You nod at her, and she tilts her head at you; a small smile quickly subdued. She seems happy with your choice to reveal yourself. 

You drop the thought quickly as $!{idren}'s throat begins to rumble with an unpleasant, warning growl, more animalistic than human. On the table, the tray of candles rattle with the sound.

"[i]What[/i] do you want?" 

*fake_choice

    #"I had a... visit. I wanted to talk to you about it."

        *ending

    #"To go back home. But I'm stuck here with you, so we might as well get this over with. I have something I want to talk to you about."

        *ending

    #I shrug. "Nothing. Just like hearing you growl, I suppose. Sounds like a purring kitten."

        *goto lystalk

    #I take a step further in, towards $!{idren}. "Uncomfortable, sweetheart?"

        *ending

    *if (lyselin_friend = true)

        #"I am here for Lys. Not you. Do you mind?"

            *goto lystalk

*comment END

*goto collectionpoint

*label idfightfight

You launch yourself into the nook head over heels, a growl of murder cascading from your throat as you throw yourself on $!{idren}'s form, before ${id_he} has a chance to dissipate out of ${id_his} armor.  

Your body molds to ${id_his} as you both tumble to the floor, an uncharacteristic squawk of surprise coming from $!{idren}, and another, angrier one as your fist lands on ${id_his} cheek. It knocks ${id_his} mask off kilter, allowing the ink of ${id_his} body to seep out in a billowing mass, before it swoops back in like a sharp inhale. 

$!{id_he} rolls atop of you with infuriating efficiency, making you squirm and writhe under the rigid shape of ${id_his} armor.

You feel ${id_his} weight pressing you down, ${id_his} hands wrapping around your throat as ${id_he} snarls,  

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You want to kill me?" 

*page_break $!{id_he} squeezes.

$!{id_his} grip tightens, and you struggle to breathe as you try to pry ${id_his} fingers away. $!{id_he} only tightens ${id_his} hold. You feel the fury radiating from ${id_him} like a tangible force, as suffocating as ${id_his} squeezing hands.

Your desperate last breath fogs ${id_his} mask as ${id_he} slowly leans in. "There are no bounds to your idiocy, is there?"

You bare your teeth.

Drool pools at the corner of your gasping mouth, your eyes straining in their sockets. With a desperate effort, you manage to swing at ${id_his} face again, connecting with ${id_his} jaw. $!{id_he} grunts in pain, but his grip on your throat only gets tighter. 

*if (id_hurt > 0) 

    "Not this time, sweetheart." The calm, icy tone of ${id_his} voice manages to paralyze you with fear as you choke on your own rage. $!{id_he} leans in, makes a show of watching you struggle. 

    "[i]Die[/i]." $!{id_he} snarls.

*fake_choice

    #I struggle frantically beneath ${id_him}, worming out of ${id_his} grip.

        Your leg comes up with mighty fury, denting the solid steel that wraps around $!{idren}'s waist. You gulp down air as ${id_his} grip loosens; strangled off as soon as $!{idren} finds ${id_his} balance yet again, ${id_his} hands guided back to the sore grooves of your throat like they belong there. 

        The room seems to warp and twist around you. Books clap to the floor and the shelves rattle as $!{idren}'s anger boils over. The ink of ${id_his} body spreads outwards in pulsating waves, creeping out from behind ${id_his} mask and hood like an omen. The icy heat of ${id_his} fury burns against your skin, too much to bear.

        "Listen to me, you scrambling mess of a ${man}, [i]I[/i] decide how this goes. Not you."  $!{id_he} sighs, and then draws a breath with such leisure it makes your lungs blaze with envy. 

        "For all the good you did me, you gave me something I am truly grateful for," ${id_he} leans in close, ${id_his} hands crushing the very mortal flesh around your airway, folding your trachea and cinching your veins shut until you feel nothing put pressure, and pain. Blinding pain.  "The upper hand." 

        [i]Squeeze[/i]. Your awareness dissolves into a bleeding tapestry of your surroundings. You mouth forms words you don't know the meaning of, the sound distorted and false, a shout over endless sea. 

        "Doesn't feel so good, wrapped around your throat, does it?" ${id_he} laughs a humorless, scathing laugh that seeps like blood from ${id_his} chest. $!{id_his} fingers dig in deeper, ${id_his} head tilting inquisitively. "You would never beat me. Ever. But I can't say I don't enjoy seeing you try."

        $!{id_his} face, where ${id_his} mouth is supposed to be, drops down to your cheek, hissing into your already pounding eardrum. "Now go. Leave us as weak as you came."

    #I knee ${id_him} in the back, punch at ${id_his} throat, anything, anything to free myself.

        Your knee snaps up in a swift kick, smashing into the solid steel plate that encases $!{idren}'s waist. $!{id_his} grip doesn't loosen, instead tightening around your neck until it is everything you feel.

        You struggle, thrashing and flailing, knocking the closest chair to the floor as the room spins around you. The sound of your own heartbeat thunders in your ears, drowning out everything else.

        "You're weak," $!{idren} growls, the ink of ${id_his} mist spreading outwards like black veins, pulsing with ${id_his} anger. $!{id_his} hands squeeze tighter, the pressure making you whine with the urgency to breathe. You close your eyes.

        But you're not done yet. With a fierce surge of strength, you wrap your hands around ${id_his} waist and hurl ${id_him} off of you, wrenching yourself free from ${id_his} grasp. Twisting away, you scramble to your feet and immediately drop your center of gravity, bringing your guard up. $!{idren} snarls, lunging at you with another roar, but you dodge the blow and lash out with your own fists.

        The two of you dance around each other in a flurry of punches and kicks, trading blows with reckless abandon. Books and lanterns topple around you as you fight, the sound of splintering wood and crashing objects adding to the chaos.

        "I decide how this goes!" $!{idren} roars, lunges again; but you're ready. With a swift side step, you focus on landing your next blow, on taking down the insidious thorn from your past once and for all.

        You don't waste a moment, knowing that ${id_he} won't transport away in the middle of an attack: you launch yourself at ${id_his} leaping form and pin ${id_him} down with all your weight, wrapping your hands around ${id_his} metal throat. Your muscles scream against the resistance of ${id_his} armor, your choking grip doing nothing to the hard shape. $!{id_he} laughs bitterly as you snarl and squeeze harder. $!{idren} puffs out of existence, your head plummeting to the floor as ${id_he} throws you off balance. You catch yourself, rolling over, only to witness $!{idren} reemerging into ${id_his} armor, piece by piece, until ${id_he} is entirely enveloping you, ensnaring you to the cold, hard floor. 

        You tumble over together, rolling and thrashing, snarling and seething as you both struggle to gain the upper hand; $!{idren} flitting in and out of ${id_his} armor, you catching ${id_his} form with your fists every instance ${id_he} reappears. 

        Fists fly as the two of you continue to trade blows, each hit landing with a sickening thud. Someone is screaming, and a surge builds around you. You can feel your body growing weaker with each passing second, but you refuse to give up. 

        You know that if you can just land one more blow, you'll be able to end this. You scramble away, to build some distance, some perspective.

        Like a huffing bull, you gather a final burst of strength and charge at $!{idren}, weaving through ${id_his} punches with ease. Once close, you manage to kick $!{idren}'s feet from under ${id_him} and scramble to sit on ${id_his} chest, your hands ripping at ${id_his} mask, trying to grasp at ${id_his} shape, strangle it, kill it. You rip and tear until your fingers bleed, punching $!{idren} in the mask repeatedly. A whir of maddening victory courses through you as $!{idren} takes your beating. You stop as $!{idren} lays still, unmoving under your frantic hands. 

        "Enough." $!{id_he} whispers. "I'm starting to enjoy this too much." ${idren} seeps out of ${id_his} armor slowly, and whirls upwards, binding ${id_himself} together; ${id_his} hands first, wrapped around your throat once more. You go down, and the rest of ${id_him} materializes just as slow, wrapping around your body like a boa constrictor.

        "You were never going to win," ${idren} hisses, ${id_his} mask still off kilter, twisted into a painting of fury. $!{id_his} grip tightens, cutting off your air supply one last time. You struggle against ${his} hold, but it's no use. $!{idren} is too strong.

        The room seems to warp and twist around you. Books clap to the floor and the shelves rattle as $!{idren}'s anger boils over. The ink of ${id_his} body spreads outwards in pulsating waves, creeping out from behind ${id_his} mask and hood like an omen. The icy heat of ${id_his} fury burns against your skin, too much to bear.

    #So be it. The fight leaves me. I close my eyes, ready for death.

        $!{idren}'s hands immediately leave your throat to wrap around the fabric of your collar instead. 

        "Oh, no, you don't. [i]Coward[/i]. Look at me." $!{idren} hisses, using ${id_his} leverage on your clothes to lift you up and slam you against the hard floor. The pain is sharp as a glowing knife's edge, reverberating through your skull like the beat of a blacksmith's hammer.

        You groan. Another slam. 

        "LOOK AT ME!" 

        Your eyes spring open, and you are sure your skull is bleeding from the hot, sticky wetness you feel spreading from your scalp. 

        The room seems to warp and twist around you. Books clap to the floor and the shelves rattle as $!{idren}'s anger boils over. The ink of ${id_his} body spreads outwards in pulsating waves, creeping out from behind ${id_his} mask and hood like an omen. The icy heat of ${id_his} fury burns against your skin, too much to bear.

        Your mouth forms words that you don't know the meaning of, your voice babbling in quiet murmurs. $!{idren} leans close. You see ${id_him} speaking, but don't hear what ${id_he} says until ${id_he} shakes you again, and by then, it is but the faint remnants of ${id_his} rage that reaches you. 

        "Look at the monster you made of me, $!{pcname}. Face me." $!{id_he} whispers, ${id_his} voice human; trembling with sorrow. Yet, ${id_he} growls again. 

        "Mercy me. See [i]me[/i], $!{pcname}."

        Though your conscious teeters at the edge of the endless abyss, you turn your hooded eyes to where ${id_his} would be, and it may be a trick of the light, or your weakened constitution; you swear that you can see $!{idren}, like ${id_he} once was. Just a flicker, but more than enough. 

        *if (ilpoly=true)

            Your hand lifts weakly from your side, to softly land at ${id_his} cheek. A tear rolls from the side of your eye.

            "[i]I've always seen you, $!{idren}. Always seen you.[/i]" 

        With a roar, ${id_he} wraps ${id_his} hands around your sore throat again, squeezing with renewed effort. You give in to the serendipitous calm that washes over you; letting $!{idren} win. It is what you deserve. It is what you [i]crave[/i]. No roads that need to be wandered, no forgiveness to be bargained for. No room for that last apology, only the wheeze of your last exhale as you surrender.

        A faint smile blooms on your lips, and to your surprise, $!{idren} wails with pain. $!{id_his} grasp seems tighter now, but it barely matters. 

    #I grit out, gurgling for enough breath to speak. "$!{idren}, please..."

        Your eyes bore into the space where ${id_his} should be. The pleading gleam from your gathering tears flows over, and rolls down your cheek. Your hands wrap around $!{idren}'s, soft as a summer breeze; a lovers caress.

        "Please," you utter, but you don't know what you are asking for; for ${id_him} to stop, or continue.

        "[i]Coward[/i]." $!{idren} snarls in rage, shaking you by the throat like a prey ${id_he}'s intent to kill. Your hands clasp around ${id_his} fingers, trapped by ${id_his} relentless grip. $!{id_he} squeezes even harder.

        The room seems to warp and twist around you. Books clap to the floor and the shelves rattle as $!{idren}'s anger boils over. The ink of ${id_his} body spreads outwards in pulsating waves, creeping out from behind ${id_his} mask and hood like an omen. The icy heat of ${id_his} fury burns against your skin, too much to bear.

    #I snarl at ${id_him}, my eyes boring into the lifeless mask ${id_he} wears. "Finish it."

        $!{idren}'s hands immediately leave your throat to wrap around the fabric of your collar instead. You whirl a punch at ${id_his} head as you gasp for breath, connecting with the edge of ${id_his} mask. You throw your head to the side, clench your eyes shut, as the mist of ${id_him} lashes out at your face like a puff of steam.

        "Oh, no, you don't. [i]Coward[/i]. Look at me." $!{idren} snarls, using ${id_his} leverage on your clothes to lift you up and slam you against the hard floor. The pain is sharp as a glowing knife's edge, reverberating through your skull like the beat of a blacksmith's hammer. 

        You groan. Another slam. 

        "LOOK AT ME!" 

        Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you are sure your skull is bleeding from the hot, sticky wetness you feel spreading from your scalp. Still, you try to focus your gaze on the furious burden on your chest.

        The room seems to warp and twist around you. Books clap to the floor and the shelves rattle as $!{idren}'s anger boils over. The ink of ${id_his} body spreads outwards in pulsating waves, creeping out from behind ${id_his} askew mask like an omen. The icy heat of ${id_his} fury burns against your skin, too much to bear. 

        "Can't you even face what you made of me! $!{pcname}! Face. Me. [i]SEE ME[/i]!"

        As you turn to face ${id_him}, ${id_his} hands wrap around your throat again, soft as a lovers caress; trembling like leaves in a summers breeze. Your eyes stare intently on the mess of ${id_him}, from ${id_his} heaving chest to the whipping lashes of mist that lap the air around ${id_him}. 

        "You're the coward," you wheeze. "Finish this, ${id_bastard}. Do what you must— what you brought me here to do." 

        To your surprise, $!{idren} wails with a guttural, painful roar. $!{id_his} hands wrap tighter still, cutting your air supply once and for all.

*page_break "Stop it, both of you!" 

"Stay out of this, Lys," $!{idren} snarls over ${id_his} shoulder, ${id_his} ink swirling around ${id_him} in a dark cloud. "$!{he} wanted this."

You glance up to see Lyselin, struggling to hold her weight as she tries to get out of her seat. $!{idren}'s hands tighten even more, and you are not sure anymore, if the encroaching darkness that slowly swallows all light around you is the mist growing outward from ${idren}'s form, or your own vision failing due to your slowly fading pulse. 

Your body kicks against the floor without your heed, your heart slamming against your ribs like a desperate prisoner, harder still as your life seeps from every crack of your broken ego. $!{idren} leans in and purrs against your ear, just loud enough to drown out the ringing that is announcing your swiftly approaching death.

"You're a waste of energy. Go now. [i]Leave[/i]."

When you gurgle and hiss in response, the sound far less threatening than what you intended, ${id_he} laughs, and it is laced with madness.

"Still think you can take me?" $!{id_he} taunts, ${id_his} fingers like a brand against your throat. "You're weak, and you always have been."

Lyselin watches you wide-eyed from the table, her jaw slacking. When $!{idren}'s armor creaks, and you wobble on the tightrope of consciousness, she reacts and shoots out of her chair with a pained gasp. Her palms slap against the table. 

"Enough! [i]This[/i] is home ground. You two have to share it. $!{idren}, last I remember you [i]wanted[/i] $!{pcname} here. Act like it."

*page_break  Still, ${id_he} doesn't let go.

The world around you blurs and twists, colors and shapes melding together in a sickening kaleidoscope. Yearning for breath, your body convulses violently. 

And then, with a sudden jolt, ${id_he} shoves you away from ${id_him}. The impact sends shockwaves through your body, leaving you bruised and battered. Scrambling backwards, your lungs greedily expand as you inhale. The room spins around you, and for a moment, you feel as though you might vomit.

$!{idren} stalks away from you, ${id_his} ink swirling around ${id_him} like hissing, agitated serpents. You watch as ${id_he} turns to step towards you, but then decides differently. $!{id_he} turns and disappears through the arch of rattled shelves, ${id_his} footsteps echoing down the hall, crisp as gunshots. 

*page_break

Years could have passed as you stand there, gasping for breath from your battered lungs, fixated on the swaying floor beneath your feet. Every emotion that you have been avoiding for the last two centuries slam into you with unrelenting force, without a hint of remorse or hesitation. The growing, oppressive silence that presses down on you feels like an anvil on your back, threatening to crush you with its weight. 

The mechanical whir of a wheelchair cuts through the inertia as Lyselin rushes to your side, her touch light and gentle as she beckons for your attention.

"Are you… okay?" She asks, concern etched on her face. The scent of her perfume, a soft floral fragrance with hints of fig and smoke wafts over you, soothing your frazzled nerves.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "I'm fine," you hack, bracing over bent knees.

With a trembling hand, you trace the ghost of ${id_his} touch on your skin, the memory of his anger burned in your mind like a scar. You look up, and ${id_his} presence still lingers like a phantom ache. Gods damn it. You face Lyselin.

"What were you thinking? She hisses, but her face is not twisted in anger, only despair.

*fake_choice

    #"$!{id_he} had it coming."

        She shakes her head. "It would seem so. Can't say that you barging in here like a charging bull helped your position in any way. You know how ${id_he} is.

        "Why do I always have to be the bigger person?" 

        "Because ${id_he} is too volatile! Too—"

        "Too what?"

        *goto lystalk

    #"You seem awfully chipper for just having witnessed another murder attempt."

        "Who, me?" Lyselin balks. "What am I supposed to do, with you just barging in here?"

        You grunt. 

        "Maybe you two should, you know, try talking to each other like normal people. Ever thought of that?"

        "It is not possible." 

        "Not when you won't try."

        You don't answer.

        *goto lystalk

    #"I wasn't thinking."

        A smack is heard as Lyselin's hand falls against her forehead. "It would seem so."

        You grunt, still rubbing at your sore throat.

        Can't say that you barging in here like a charging bull helped your position in any way. You know how ${id_he} is.

        "Why do I always have to be the bigger person?" 

        "Because ${id_he} is too volatile! Too—"

        "Too what?"

        *goto lystalk

*comment END

*comment END ALL

*label collectionpoint

go to bed idiot (an: yes, that is actually the content beneath that label, lol)