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(closed) These violent delights have violent ends
WHO: Abby & Ellie
WHAT: Two girls one mission
WHEN: they least expect it (October)
WHERE: Wounded Coast
NOTES: Violence, mention of old trauma and past violence/torture/murder
WHAT: Two girls one mission
WHEN: they least expect it (October)
WHERE: Wounded Coast
NOTES: Violence, mention of old trauma and past violence/torture/murder
The Wounded Coast is colder than she thought it would be. There's a southerly blowing up off the top of the water that sets Abby's horse stamping in place, shifting restlessly when she tethers him up near the sparse tree-line. She presses her palm gratefully against his cheek, and offers him a bruised apple from her pocket; the later is the real treat. She leaves him munching, and descends down the track to the beach to get a better scope of the area, hands dropping to her hips as she breathes in.
Scouting wants people out to mark new enemy supply lines up the coast, and thinks they could run into a bit of hassle along the way. It's why she's here and working with somebody out of her usual division: she's the muscle, as per usual. She doesn't mind. Means she gets to do a bit of exploring by herself while she's at it, and it's nice to be away from the Gallows, out in the salt air.
Abby just hopes she hasn't been paired with somebody quiet, or boring, god fucking forbid. Guess she'll have to wait and see.
She's waiting on them to arrive, after managing to worm her way out of getting on the back of a griffon. Yeah it would have been faster, but some how Abby doesn't think it'd work out so good for her. She's trying to make a good first impression here. Sorry, Lev. She'll get back to facing her fears... later. Promise.
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Apparently, because it reacts to Abby's blows, but it still blasts her with magic, and Ellie's not sure how long she can stay standing under the onslaught.
She doesn't have time to consider it, though, as the Shades are nearly on her. Falling back on classic measures, Ellie pulls a molotov from her pack, quickly lights it, and smashes the bottle in the midst of them, splashing them all with burning grade alcohol. They set up a deafening shriek, twisting in the flames, and Ellie backs off, pulling back on her bowstring to aim another shot at the wraith. Again, strikes true, though this one doesn't come with a glittering golden tail.
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Another arrow comes sailing across the way, and hits the Wraith square in the middle. Fucking hell. Abby's close enough that it could have struck her, and it didn't; she strikes it again, and it fizzles out around her sword.
There's fire behind her. She heard the smash of glass, and hears the roar and lick of flames, the shrieks of the Shades in stereo around her. No time to worry about them when the Wraith is sagging in mid-air, the arrow almost caught in it. One more hit and it goes, and Abby reels backward, panting, her braid whipping around as she turns her attention back to the meat of the fight.
The fuck was that thing. Ghost? Whatever, "It's down!" she shouts, and takes a step backward to reassess.
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The shard in her hand gives a pulsing ache of pain, and Ellie ignores it as best she can, instead falling back on her knife, lashing out at the nearest of the demons. It bites deep, scores through a vital area, cracking whatever serves as bone in the snakelike body. Black blood splashes out across her face, and the lingering fire singes her arm.
They're all too close, and she doesn't know if Abby will get there in time to flank them. They've got her backed up to the cave wall, nearly surrounding her, and she'd used up the time she would've used to get away with taking another shot on that wraith.
Still, she's got a few tricks up her sleeve.
Ellie takes a deep breath, feels the buzz of the magic pull over her whole body and hide it from view -- and bolts for the opening between the two Shades.
It's chance, really. Total bullshit, but one of the creature's flailing, sinewy arms slams directly into her chest as she tries to duck under it. She doesn't register the pain, or the sudden impact, she just ends up on the slippery cave floor, gasping painfully for breath. Dark spots swim in front of her vision.
She has barely breath enough to scream when the demon begins to rain blows down onto her, hitting with bone-cracking force.
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Her break is short lived; Ellie is gone. Disappeared into the clump of demons that had been pressing her back against the wall. Abby takes a couple steps forward, scanning rapidly, remembers she can vanish, and surges ahead to attack the cluster while their backs are turned.
One of them takes the blade of her sword right through the center of its body. She stabs deep, snarling, twisting with both hands as hard as she can, and then Ellie pops back into existence so suddenly it startles her. She's prone and vulnerable, taking every blow with a ragged whump of breath, and Abby slams her shoulder up into the one responsible with a wordless shout.
She knocks it off course, giving Ellie just enough respite to grab her hand so she can yank her upward, and back into the fight with a pant of, "I got you," without thinking–
A direct parallel of the moment that Joel pulled her out of the snow.
But she won't realise that until later. The adrenaline is enough to keep the thought at bay.
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Blood's spilled across her face, down over one eye, turning everything a horrific shade of red. She gropes for her knife, wraps her fingers around it, but leverage is shit from below -- and the second Abby slams bodily into the Shade, sending it careening into the cave wall, Ellie takes a gasping, wheezing breath of relief.
She reaches up and clasps Abby's forearm without thought, relying on her strength to help her get to her feet, head spinning. But there's no time to think on her hurts, or on Abby's gruff, familiar words. The sound of her voice so tapping into something well-worn, the steps of a dance burned into muscle memory.
"Look out," Ellie chokes, bringing her knife up as the Shade pushes away from the wall, shaking itself, singed and screaming, to come back at them.
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Surface level. She's fine, but she left her fucking sword in the back of the other Shade. At least it's having an odd time moving around because of it, trying and failing to spin around and face them properly.
"Fuck," she grits out, and kicks the one that clawed her, hard enough to send it backwards and colliding with the third.
They're not out of the woods yet. "Go," she seethes, thinking of the accuracy of Ellie's arrows as she whips around to seize the handle of her sword and wrench it out, much to the howling displeasure of its host.
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Abby kicks the thing back into the third shade, where it hits the wall with a sickening crunch, and Ellie scoops up one of the heavy, glasslike cave rocks on the slippery floor. With a motion that involves her whole body, she spikes it directly into the hulking creature's skull. The impact crunches it against the wall again, and it seems that the combined blows between her and Abby were enough.
It drops, green tendrils of light sucking at the edges of it, drawing it back into the Fade Rift.
"Got you, fucker!" Ellie growls, and moves back, whipping out her bow, backing up to get enough room to flank the one Abby's tangling with.
Two left.
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The blow goes wide and misses completely, but that's fine. It makes the Shade back up at any rate, and Ellie is already rushing backward out of the corner of Abby's eye, finding her range. They'll pick the other two off easily like this.
Abby had no idea how skilled with the bow she was. Like Lev, the way she finds her target, exhales, and hits it precisely, viciously.
"Come on!" She bellows at the Shade eyeing her up, lunging falsely at it just to make it duck, and weave. This gives her an opening; she takes it, and plunges her blade into its shoulder, ripping as far down as she can at an angle.
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Ellie expects to be afraid of her. To be terrified of the woman who crushed someone she loved with that strength, who had nearly squeezed the life right out of her, too- but she doesn't.
It's far better to stand behind her.
Abby's blow rips the Shade right open, and Ellie doesn't have to see the streaks and cracks of sickly green light to know it's done for. Instead she pulls back, lets another arrow fly, and staggers the shade that's moved to flank her, interrupting what could've been another blow.
She pulls back another arrow, fighting dizziness, muscles screaming with adrenaline, and shoots.
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She needn't have worried. An arrow finds its mark with a dull thock, and then a second one shortly after. One two, just like that. The third Shade wails, and fades, and it's suddenly quiet save for the surge of the Rift, and Abby panting like crazy. She reaches down, and finds her sword.
"... I dunno about this thing."
Later, Jone is going to tell her she has no finesse for wielding a weapon like this, and she'll be right.
She glares and grits her teeth when her shard stings and itches, nagging at her to: "Better close it before it decides we're ready for round two."
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She gives Abby's throat a look-over, then makes a satisfied sound. Superficial, no medical attention needed.
"Yeah. You swung that thing like a baseball bat."
Of course, Abby's so strong it didn't ultimately matter, but she's probably going to shatter the fuck out of a sword that way. But Ellie doesn't say so. Instead she reaches up to wipe the wetness on her face, and wobbles slightly on the spot as the pain starts to edge in through the adrenaline.
... fuck.
"Right," she says, and heads toward the Rift. "Put up your hand, and just... concentrate. Like you're pulling it shut."
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Ellie is looking at her. Inspecting her neck, she realises, resisting the urge to cover it with her hand. Instead, she looks right back at her. She took a beating back there, and she's still on her feet, moving like nothing aches. It will later, of course. Abby hopes they're well clear of this place by then.
She follows Ellie, arm at her side, and glances to her to copy her movements. The first time she ever did this, the shard did it for her. She remembers, vaguely. The tug, and shift of her hand into place.
The Rift sputters when she locks onto it, the energy building, crackling into a fever. She thinks of it like a door she wants to close, and it works, the hum of power in her hand seething in her skin until she pulls downward, and the Rift bursts into nothingness.
She didn't need to look at Ellie during it to know she was doing something similar. Turns out, they work well together.
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But the Rift, between the two of them, starts to knit itself together, the edges of reality mending until it comes together, closes with a flashbang of sound and a concussion of the air. Ellie staggers on the spot, catching her breath, and sighs with relief when the pain in her hand finally ebbs away.
"Nailed it," she says under her breath, and slings her bow across her back, heading over to the scorched cave floor to sift through the monster parts. The wraith left some weird, glowy residue on the floor, so she scoops it into a bag, careful not to touch it with her bare hands.
"... thanks," she says, a little awkwardly, while she ties up the bag. She doesn't look up. "For the save."
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Ellie isn't looking at her, she's fucking with her bag or something. Abby feels a little awkward too.
"Don't mention it."
Seriously, don't. But at the same time– "Here."
She's got first aid supplies in here, always does. She doubts that Ellie doesn't, but she still roots around in her bag and produces what she's got. She sort of chucks it in Ellie's direction because apparently it's too much to give it to her nicely. "Got some elfroot in there, if you need it."
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Ellie catches the pack with one hand, glad she doesn't fumble it, as weird as she feels. Might be a minor concussion from her head bouncing off of the rock floor. Or off the demon's fist. She's not sure. But she digs out a familiar vial, double-checks the tag on it, and pops the cork to swallow the potion.
It still feels crazy; not quite like Derrica's magic, but like a weird diluted echo of it. She feels clearer, more focused, and the hurt ebbs considerably.
Ellie nods, replaces the glass, and tosses it back underhanded.
"How's your neck?"
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It's stilted, careful interaction. Abby remains alert while Ellie doctors herself, just in case something else in the cave decides to take advantage of their brief repose. Maybe the dramatic Rift closure scared everything away... she won't complain.
She catches the pack by her fingertips, and stows it back into her bag without a word.
"Don't think there'd be any supply lines in here," she says, finally. Steering them back toward the mission seems the safest thing to do. It will keep her from lingering on the fight they just had, anyway. "What with the Rift. We should get back." Get you to the infirmary: something else she won't say out loud but probably implies in the way she glances Ellie over, one brow raised.
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"Yeah. Something would've come up by now," she agrees, and starts heading back out through the cave, towards the light. She walks straight enough, but she's been hurt enough times to know she needs to have herself looked at. It's nothing life-threatening, and she could probably push through if she had to, but they can afford to be responsible.
"They'll be glad we closed the Rift," she adds, then fall silent, pulling her glove back into place as they step out and into the light.
"Barely missed a fucking artery," Ellie says suddenly, matter of fact as she looks over Abby's neck.
"An inch over and you'd have bled out."
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"I can write up the report." Something else settled now, meaning they don't have to follow up with each other later.
Oh, fuck, they took different modes of transport here. Ellie can't fly the griffon back alone in her condition, and Abby isn't about to do it for her.
They'll have to share the horse.
She's stuck on that unwanted realisation when Ellie suddenly speaks up.
"What?" She touches her neck reflexively. Comes away red again. Damnit, "Yeah, probably." Is Ellie trying to freak her out, or something? She rolls her eyes. "You wish. I've had worse."
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She's busy coming to the same conclusion about the horse. She figures she could strap herself down to Artichoke and he'd get them both home, but flying with a head injury will probably be even more miserable, so she discounts the idea. They've done enough today for her to suck it up. Maybe if she aggressively tells herself she doesn't care, it'll actually be true.
"Yeah," she says softly, glancing at Abby. Unbidden, she remembers her at the beach. Stark and skeletal and sunken, with her eyes huge in their sockets, dark smudged shadows and short filthy hair. It's startling how different she is now.
"You have."
It leaves a curious, cold, distant expression on Ellie's face. The remembering.
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It gives Abby a shiver. She disguises the movement of her hands as concern for her wounds, lifting the neck of her shirt to press the underneath of the scratchy material against the blood, wipe it away.
"Right."
The theater.
And yet, for some reason, that look feels very far away from it.
"... Come on," she adds brusquely, electing to ignore it. As if Ellie would explain even if she asked, "Let your griffon know we'll meet it back at the Gallows. We'll take Broomstick."
Uh, that's the horse. Obviously.