If you wanted to, though. [She shrugs. Her heart twists and Camille just smiles.] Offer's open.
[It would hurt like hell, but she'd listen. Scarper off to nooks and crannies unseen like a roach.]
...Honestly? I want to disappear. [The next words give her pause. Her mouth quirks, working around the taste of them] I can't decide if I should wait for help with it or not.
[ He's quiet to that. And then after a moment, he raises a hand to his temple like he's developed a headache, lowering his head. His voice is almost a whisper. ]
Oh... you'll break a heart, love, you will. Is that your honesty? Go around saying those words out loud and somebody just might take you up on them. Do you really mean it?
[He calls her "love", now. All the dears and darlings from Astarion are one thing, flippant familiarities meant to keep a distance. Daan sticks to "Ms.", uses her last name just as often as her first. It reminds her of Curry, in a way. Less fatherly, but the same earnest reach towards her drowning body. As if a nickname could pull you off the edge.
Camille's face crumples and she has to look away. Regain herself before she tries again.]
What else am I supposed to do, Daan? I don't want to hurt anyone.
Oh, no, no. I can't go about making decisions for you. I don't intervene that way. I can only ask you, and you can only ask of me.
Does the darkness seem that welcoming now? Or maybe. Just maybe, though we both already knew it -- we're both children of darkness, and we're right where we belong and always have been. There's no way out of it from here, old girl. You learn to love it eventually, or you drown. And maybe you delude yourself into thinking it loves you back, but you'll never know. It doesn't speak. That's the peculiar way of things. You want reprieve. You want love. You want release.
[It's the most she's heard out of him in one go that isn't an outline for a strip check. It's the maddest he's ever sounded.
The most sense anyone's made.]
I don't want to be a goddamn child of darkness, not if it means I'm putting another sword through some kid's heart. I thought I wasn't my family, Daan. Or was that all bullshit Saturday night?
[She's at his side in an instant, holding him at the shoulders, desperate, leaking tears.]
No no no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like...I don't want to be like them, I don't want to quit, I don't, I really don't, I just...I just....
[ He freezes, tense. His eye is distant and hazed, unfocused, but the grab of his shoulders and the call of his name seems to snap him out of something. ]
[There he is. She inhales on a rocky breath, moving one hand to the side of jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. The tears still come and her voice is pitchy, riding on a vapour thin breeze.]
It's me. I'm here. I'll hang on. Okay? I'll hang on for you.
[She can't let him slip. She can't let him follow her down the slope, not like this.
Camille presses her lips to his forehead, fervent. Almost feverish. Sealed with a kiss.]
[ Let me tell you the whiplash between this and another thread I'm in right now is absolutely crazy, I'm going insane.
Anyway he's disoriented and harrowed, and his initial reaction is to almost shrink just a little bit if he weren't frozen in place as he feels the kiss pressed past his fringe, the promise that most certainly shouldn't be made. He puts a hand with its barely concealed tremble on her upper arm -- but it stays there, fingers pressing into her sleeve. ]
[ Thank you there will be none. Anwyay imagine his pain came back right now and he just passed out. It'd be funny, but no he doesn't. He only accepts back the crutch in his hands, still looking at it like he's just stumbled out of a reverie, like he's been doused in gasoline. ]
[ I should've given you my Journalist mem while memshare week was still there... it would've been really good right around now lol touches the ground. He's just quiet for a moment, considering. ]
I hope you get a positive answer.
[ Meanwhile if you avoid being dead by the end of this week I will be AMAZED. I'll welcome it but I will be amazed. ]
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[ Control. He shifts his weight where he stands. ]
What do you want to do?
Cw: talk of death/suicide
[It would hurt like hell, but she'd listen. Scarper off to nooks and crannies unseen like a roach.]
...Honestly? I want to disappear. [The next words give her pause. Her mouth quirks, working around the taste of them] I can't decide if I should wait for help with it or not.
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Oh... you'll break a heart, love, you will. Is that your honesty? Go around saying those words out loud and somebody just might take you up on them. Do you really mean it?
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Camille's face crumples and she has to look away. Regain herself before she tries again.]
What else am I supposed to do, Daan? I don't want to hurt anyone.
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Does the darkness seem that welcoming now? Or maybe. Just maybe, though we both already knew it -- we're both children of darkness, and we're right where we belong and always have been. There's no way out of it from here, old girl. You learn to love it eventually, or you drown. And maybe you delude yourself into thinking it loves you back, but you'll never know. It doesn't speak. That's the peculiar way of things. You want reprieve. You want love. You want release.
Isn't that it?
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[It's the most she's heard out of him in one go that isn't an outline for a strip check. It's the maddest he's ever sounded.
The most sense anyone's made.]
I don't want to be a goddamn child of darkness, not if it means I'm putting another sword through some kid's heart. I thought I wasn't my family, Daan. Or was that all bullshit Saturday night?
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There's no escaping it. It's in your blood. Quit while you're early. What do you think? Is it really your answer?
Fellow to fellow. I'll give you whatever you want.
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[She's at his side in an instant, holding him at the shoulders, desperate, leaking tears.]
No no no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like...I don't want to be like them, I don't want to quit, I don't, I really don't, I just...I just....
[Don't know what to do.]
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[ He freezes, tense. His eye is distant and hazed, unfocused, but the grab of his shoulders and the call of his name seems to snap him out of something. ]
...Ah... Ms. Preak -- Camille?
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It's me. I'm here. I'll hang on. Okay? I'll hang on for you.
[She can't let him slip. She can't let him follow her down the slope, not like this.
Camille presses her lips to his forehead, fervent. Almost feverish. Sealed with a kiss.]
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Anyway he's disoriented and harrowed, and his initial reaction is to almost shrink just a little bit if he weren't frozen in place as he feels the kiss pressed past his fringe, the promise that most certainly shouldn't be made. He puts a hand with its barely concealed tremble on her upper arm -- but it stays there, fingers pressing into her sleeve. ]
Oh... oh? A-alright.
...Good.
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Camille swallows. Nods. Looking him direct in the eyes.
Then her gaze shifts. With a wince:]
I'll just...sorry.
[She loosens her grip to collect his fallen crutch, propping it back up for him, ears burning hot with shame.]
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Thanks.
We're alright?
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Thankfully Daan doesn't hit a 11 on the pain scale out of nowhere. Camille can (not) sleep slightly easier tonight.]
We're all right. [She nods in the affirmative, brushing his shoulders again. Stifling the thick lumps stacking in her throat. A semblance of calm.]
We'll be all right.
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[ Returning to his usual sort of dullness, albeit sprinkled with a distinct discomfort and awkwardness for whatever that just happened. ]
You're in a precarious situation... not that I need to tell you that.
...
So, be careful.
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[There's the distant stare that she knows and loves. Camille smiles grimly.]
I'll keep my head down. I messaged the overseers, see if we can't figure out a solution. Something.
It'll be okay.
[Does either one of them believe it?]
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I hope you get a positive answer.
[ Meanwhile if you avoid being dead by the end of this week I will be AMAZED. I'll welcome it but I will be amazed. ]
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Thanks...
[Maybe it's best to leave that all as is for now. There's nowhere good to go from here.]
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