WHO: Ellie, Abby WHAT: Ellie and Abby finally cross paths. WHEN: Somewhere in between the world falling apart. WHERE: Some corner of Kirkwall's Lowtown. NOTES: VIOLENCE, probs some references to other violence/torture/death. It's on sight with them.
Abby dares to squeeze her eyes shut tight for half a second, pulling breath into her lungs as deep as she can to disperse the fear shivering through her. Mel's body is prone on the undersides of her eyelids, throat torn open by a knife.
Could have been her. Could still be her, if she doesn't get her shit together, but the fight is decidedly over, even though Abby doesn't know why. Weapons have been lowered. Arms are by their sides. Her shoulder is radiating pain, sick and hot, but clarifying. She concentrates on it, and tries to relax her jaw.
"Just got here." This is what she wanted, but it's so odd. To stand across from her, the both of them bleeding, and talk with level voices. "A month ago."
Ellie lets her breath escape slowly, and crouches down to pick up her knife. She wipes Abby's blood off of it, onto her breeches, then slides it back into the sheath, letting her cloak fall back into place. She flexes her left hand, shaking away the last of the jumping nerves, the ones that still want to tremble. Her whole body feels tight, too.
"Great," she says shortly, reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose, ignoring the pain that radiates through her face.
"Should've known the Fade would pull your ass through. Something always does."
The last part is almost a mutter, but she shakes her head, fixing Abby with a cool stare. They may have a tenuous truce between them, but she's still not inclined to tell her the whole story.
"Oh," Abby says, the word a borderline scoff, her gaze darting briefly toward where she sheathed and hid away her knife. Noting, where exactly it hangs on her belt, "Okay."
Magic. She knows how to do that, here. Abby might have called her on it if she hadn't seen that happen right in front of her, and she's already thinking back to that hit that fell so much harder than it should have. The golden glow of her irises, a light trail streaking across her vision.
So she really could have killed her, then. She was invisible just then, tucked away into thin air. She was right in front of Abby with a knife in her hand.
"You stopped." Not a question. She doesn't want an answer for it, only for it to be acknowledged.
They're both killers. Ellie marks the way Abby's eyes follow the knife, resting on the comfort of knowing that it's only one of several. She doesn't make that mistake anymore. She flexes her fingers again, her lips thinning out into a line as she gives her as steady a look as she can manage.
The adrenaline's still plain in both of them as they catch their breath, leaving this feeling even more surreal than it actually is. The fact that she's standing here, talking to her.
"So did you," she says, flatly. Almost accusatory.
Not just here and now, either. She stopped in the theater. Back in the lodge. And on the beach, whether she remembers that or not.
Not the beach, no. Not yet, but the rest of it is true and Abby weighs all of it for a moment with her mouth shut, shoulders pulled back despite her aches.
"I'm not here for you."
Has she ever been? Even in the theater Abby was initially there for Tommy, though that changed the moment she realised the truth of it– and then she walked away, despite that. She put it down, in much the same way the knife got dropped at her feet in the dirt. It felt good, to let it go. Felt good to leave her lying on her back in pieces, knowing she'd have to force herself to her feet to pick it all up again.
"Look," she says, her voice low. Whatever they've got left between them is still simmering. Abby can feel the heat prickling underneath of her skin, scorching hot. It keeps her at bay. "Why don't you back away from my shit, and I'll back away from yours?"
I'm not here for you, she says, and there's a prickling in the back of Ellie's mind- because that doesn't quite make sense, and it never has. Abby's intentions were always second to the violence, in their history together, and it doesn't quite occur to Ellie that her assumptions might not be completely right.
It doesn't, even now. Doesn't click. But there's a sense of something not lining up, not exactly. Easy enough to dismiss, but not as easy as the times before.
"Fine," she answers, straightening in kind, lifting her chin to meet Abby's eyes, her skin crawling.
"You stay out of my business, and I'll give you room."
Getting stared at kickstarts that clench in Abby's chest all over again; it's the flint, in her gaze. The gun gives a tremble in her hand but she stows it, easy, and slow, back into its holster.
Room. Like she can shove Abby away into a limited space and slam the door shut on her, maybe get her fingers caught in the process. Abby wants to snort in response. She wants to roll her eyes and say something withering like wow, am I supposed to thank you for that, but instead she opens her mouth and says:
The question freezes something in her, something horrible in the pit of her stomach that turns and rips things open. Ellie feels sick, has to make herself take a breath.
All of this, and Abby never even knew her fucking name.
Ellie wants to ask why the fuck it matters to her now, wants to break something. Instead the blood drips down her face, and she spits it out, onto the dirt between them, staring her down because if she lets this show that it fucks with her, she's not sure she'll make it back to the mage tower.
Odd, but now that she's said it out loud, the sound tickles something in Abby's brain. She knew that already, she's heard it before. Shouted in a moment of desperation, she thinks, or something along those lines; lost it, in a swath of freezing anger. Abby stares at her for a moment, trying to place it, then gives up.
"Okay."
Her next question hovers on her tongue for a long time before she dares to ask it, but– well, she's still clinging to hope, perhaps foolishly.
Ellie rests her hands on her hips, lets the question roll over her, and rocks back, looking at the ground. She knows what Abby's asking, and why. But it still aches.
God, she needs to get out of here. To be anywhere else, to not be pinned down by those fucking eyes.
"Yeah."
A muscle works in her jaw. She doesn't want to help her. But somehow, for once, it isn't fucking about her. Or even them. She wishes she knew, really, if he made it.
She's glad Ellie averted her gaze before she answered. Means she misses the way Abby's expression crumples into something hurt and anxious, her head lifting as she turns it to look away from her completely. It shouldn't be a surprise, she knows that Lev isn't here. If he was, she would have found him already. She's been asking around, discretely. No leads.
Hearing it again, but from her, makes it worse. Makes it real.
"'Kay." She's chewing the inside of her cheek, and can't quite muster herself to say thank you. If she could, Ellie probably wouldn't want to hear it from her anyway.
It's time to go. Abby's got everything she wants out of her. The rest she can find out by digging around, especially now that she has a name. She exhales lowly, and turns on her heel without a word to leave. Time to find a place, and patch herself up.
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faderift2021-08-09 10:00 pm
no subject
Could have been her. Could still be her, if she doesn't get her shit together, but the fight is decidedly over, even though Abby doesn't know why. Weapons have been lowered. Arms are by their sides. Her shoulder is radiating pain, sick and hot, but clarifying. She concentrates on it, and tries to relax her jaw.
"Just got here." This is what she wanted, but it's so odd. To stand across from her, the both of them bleeding, and talk with level voices. "A month ago."
A pause. Then, "How did you do that."
no subject
"Great," she says shortly, reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose, ignoring the pain that radiates through her face.
"Should've known the Fade would pull your ass through. Something always does."
The last part is almost a mutter, but she shakes her head, fixing Abby with a cool stare. They may have a tenuous truce between them, but she's still not inclined to tell her the whole story.
"Magic."
no subject
Magic. She knows how to do that, here. Abby might have called her on it if she hadn't seen that happen right in front of her, and she's already thinking back to that hit that fell so much harder than it should have. The golden glow of her irises, a light trail streaking across her vision.
So she really could have killed her, then. She was invisible just then, tucked away into thin air. She was right in front of Abby with a knife in her hand.
"You stopped." Not a question. She doesn't want an answer for it, only for it to be acknowledged.
no subject
The adrenaline's still plain in both of them as they catch their breath, leaving this feeling even more surreal than it actually is. The fact that she's standing here, talking to her.
"So did you," she says, flatly. Almost accusatory.
Not just here and now, either. She stopped in the theater. Back in the lodge. And on the beach, whether she remembers that or not.
no subject
"I'm not here for you."
Has she ever been? Even in the theater Abby was initially there for Tommy, though that changed the moment she realised the truth of it– and then she walked away, despite that. She put it down, in much the same way the knife got dropped at her feet in the dirt. It felt good, to let it go. Felt good to leave her lying on her back in pieces, knowing she'd have to force herself to her feet to pick it all up again.
"Look," she says, her voice low. Whatever they've got left between them is still simmering. Abby can feel the heat prickling underneath of her skin, scorching hot. It keeps her at bay. "Why don't you back away from my shit, and I'll back away from yours?"
no subject
It doesn't, even now. Doesn't click. But there's a sense of something not lining up, not exactly. Easy enough to dismiss, but not as easy as the times before.
"Fine," she answers, straightening in kind, lifting her chin to meet Abby's eyes, her skin crawling.
"You stay out of my business, and I'll give you room."
no subject
Room. Like she can shove Abby away into a limited space and slam the door shut on her, maybe get her fingers caught in the process. Abby wants to snort in response. She wants to roll her eyes and say something withering like wow, am I supposed to thank you for that, but instead she opens her mouth and says:
"... What's your name?"
no subject
All of this, and Abby never even knew her fucking name.
Ellie wants to ask why the fuck it matters to her now, wants to break something. Instead the blood drips down her face, and she spits it out, onto the dirt between them, staring her down because if she lets this show that it fucks with her, she's not sure she'll make it back to the mage tower.
"Ellie."
no subject
Odd, but now that she's said it out loud, the sound tickles something in Abby's brain. She knew that already, she's heard it before. Shouted in a moment of desperation, she thinks, or something along those lines; lost it, in a swath of freezing anger. Abby stares at her for a moment, trying to place it, then gives up.
"Okay."
Her next question hovers on her tongue for a long time before she dares to ask it, but– well, she's still clinging to hope, perhaps foolishly.
"Are we the only two here?"
no subject
God, she needs to get out of here. To be anywhere else, to not be pinned down by those fucking eyes.
"Yeah."
A muscle works in her jaw. She doesn't want to help her. But somehow, for once, it isn't fucking about her. Or even them. She wishes she knew, really, if he made it.
"If I see the kid, I'll point him your way."
no subject
Hearing it again, but from her, makes it worse. Makes it real.
"'Kay." She's chewing the inside of her cheek, and can't quite muster herself to say thank you. If she could, Ellie probably wouldn't want to hear it from her anyway.
It's time to go. Abby's got everything she wants out of her. The rest she can find out by digging around, especially now that she has a name. She exhales lowly, and turns on her heel without a word to leave. Time to find a place, and patch herself up.