a killer come to call, beyza

[Beyza]

She hears his words, and later she’ll wonder if they are like the elements they represent - if she and Jamie cannot exist without each other or with each other either. Now, though, it’s hard to focus on what he says when they are mixed with the rasping, laboured breaths that punctuate his sentences. When he responds to her offer to alleviate the pain, and she understands the feeling of not knowing whether something is real or not. “The more I learn about myself, the less certain I am real.” She tilts her head and there’s a smile there. “So maybe I’m not the best measurement for that.” Her story, the things she can do, does not fit with what else she sees in the world. The only thing that calms that sense of otherness is all the oddities she has surrounded herself with and run into - Anaxarete and her darkness, Liv turning into a lion after visiting the mountain, Celina with her crocodile smile, and of course the boy made of shadows standing before her now. He doesn’t agree but he doesn’t tell her off either so it feels more or less like a win. Whether or not it was in his mind did not seem to matter - either way it was affecting him, making him uncomfortable in his own body, and that seemed enough to warrant a little bit of help. She takes a small step forward, her gaze focused on him - hoping the smile that lingers isn’t totally lost in her marble eyes. “But let’s see if we can find out about your pain.” And when she exhales, her breath ushers forward a grey, shimmering fog (the surprise at seeing something not white from her powers almost shocks her enough for it to fade right then and there). If he will allow it to touch him, it will feel warm and soothing on his aching limbs - seeping into his muscles and relaxing them, feeding them strength. She watches carefully for his reaction, never breaking focus, ready to recoil at the slightest sign he was unhappy. beyza

artwork by kharthian