[ He sighs at that, shrinking back slightly. Molly doesn't really know how to deal with this, and he absently rubs his chest. Right where the claive had turn him open. ]
It seems like the Historian is here to put the Storyteller in timeout, so I'm not sure who else might.
[ Molly rubs his face, pacing with that restless irritation and fear that makes his tail swish with wide swoops. ]
This is just time correcting itself, just like it was always going to do.
(Yasha simply stares at him, her gaze dropping to the agitated swishing of his tail. The fact that he sees this as time simply correcting itself by erasing him... it doesn't sit well. Feels like a spike in her throat. Yasha swallows, uncomfortably.)
It's okay. I can find somebody. I'm going to find somebody.
[ He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to fix this with jokes and smiles. He's so stupidly scared, and Molly doesn't know how much of it is for himself and how much is for them. ]
(Zuala was killed and she didn't have a chance of saving her from that; while there's the slightest chance of hope for Molly, she's going to grasp for it.
And yet, she can't quite look at him.)
... Don't you want to come back? With Beau, and Kiri and I. Everybody misses you, it... it isn't just me.
[ He turns to look at her, regretting saying that immediately. ]
I mean... fuck. We don't know if it's possible, and if it is... what would happen. I could wake up in my grave a million miles away from you guys. I could... not be me.
[ He sighs, pushing back his hair from his face. The red stones he wears as jewelry together with the twine click together a little bit, a reminder of how much he's been through here. How much longer he's known them all than before. ]
None of it is worth risking your chance to go home, either. It's like they said. My story is over.
(He's terrified and he hadn't meant to tell her. Yasha would be hypocritical to call Molly out for keeping secrets, but– they're MollyandYasha, and he's always spoken candidly to her about pretty much everything. It's something that she loves about him. It's a behaviour he had taught her to display in return, however slowly. Honestly, she's still learning.)
We don't know that. It could be fine, or... I'll find you, again. I am good at finding you.
(He's a magnetic personality; Yasha's a compass point. The way that he looks at her breaks her heart.)
... Your story wasn't long enough. Neither was ours.
[ They are MollyandYasha. She's part of his soul in so many ways. They found eachother in the circus, they spent most of their time together when she wasn't out with the storm. "Where are Molly and Yasha" was more common than asking for them in singular. (Unless he was in trouble.)
Gods, this hurts. He's a hypocrite and a liar to his best girl. ]
You always find me. You even found me here, in some weird time pocket or a broken land that shouldn't exist. That should prove well to find me if there's a next life.
[ Molly reaches out and touches her cheek gently. His hand is shaking, even if he tries to play it off as nothing. ]
I was never really a main character in my own story, love. It was short, but I have no regrets other than leaving you alone.
(She can't believe she's losing him like this, so simply, too quickly. Yasha has always regretted not being at the fight with Lorenzo to stop him from delivering his killing blow, and that she had to learn of Molly's death in retrospect. But now she's here, standing in front of Molly and seeing the hypothetical glaive position itself directly above his heart and she still can't do anything to stop it. He's going to die, again, and she'll be back to wandering, listening and waiting for thunder to tell her what to do next.
She wants to grab his hand and hold it against her face but she doesn't, for fear of pulling him in closer and never letting go. She has her pride, after all, but oh. It's hard to keep to it in the face of this.)
... Please, (she tries, and her voice lowers, half-stoppered by the lump in her throat,) don't go. You... have to let me try to save you.
[ He's trying so hard to not break down, but her words are so heartbroken. He knows what that means. He knows she's already lost Zuala. She couldn't save her.
She couldn't save him. There's too much loss. (His lashes are wet.)]
Yasha. [ He says, softly. ] I'm sorry.
[ Molly leans up on his tippy-toes and kisses her forehead. ]
We'll ask who we can, but... you promised me you would go home if you could. Just remember that.
(Yasha closes her eyes, her head jerking minutely as he kisses her forehead. It feels like he means to mollify her. She can't find comfort in it, and folds her arms across her chest as he leans back again, walling herself off. Protecting her heart.
Because she did promise that, she remembers it. Is it so bad that she only wants to find a way for him to come home too?)
... Okay.
(She needs to leave, she feels itchy with it. The Historian hadn't told her exactly when they would dissolve this world for good but they had used the word 'soon', and she doesn't want to run out of time before she works out a way to fix this. Though, from the way Molly has reacted, Yasha now has the distinct idea that the only person she is doing this for is herself, and she doesn't know how to feel about that at all.
Her expression must be brewing like a storm.)
I can ask. You... stay here. I'll come back. (Just like always.)
[ He can see it all, the way she walls up, the way she wants to distance herself. How hurt she is, in many different ways.
It cracks something inside him again and he wants to lash out, to yell and hiss and scream at her so she hates him and leaves him here. The saner part of him could never do that, because he loves her so much.
(Yeah, this isn't great for anybody involved, huh. Yasha shifts her weight to her other foot, then relents the tight fold of her arms so she can lean forward and push a kiss to his cheek before she turns and leaves. Because even though though she feels so helpless and angry and uncertain and hurt, she still loves him, and she won't ever leave him without reminding him of that. Even with the briefest of gestures.
Anyway. She's going to find Beau, because she really needs somebody to be on her side about this right now if she's going to figure out what to do next.)
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no subject
It seems like the Historian is here to put the Storyteller in timeout, so I'm not sure who else might.
[ Molly rubs his face, pacing with that restless irritation and fear that makes his tail swish with wide swoops. ]
This is just time correcting itself, just like it was always going to do.
no subject
It's okay. I can find somebody. I'm going to find somebody.
no subject
[ He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to fix this with jokes and smiles. He's so stupidly scared, and Molly doesn't know how much of it is for himself and how much is for them. ]
Don't risk this, darling. You're going home.
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(Zuala was killed and she didn't have a chance of saving her from that; while there's the slightest chance of hope for Molly, she's going to grasp for it.
And yet, she can't quite look at him.)
... Don't you want to come back? With Beau, and Kiri and I. Everybody misses you, it... it isn't just me.
no subject
[ He turns to look at her, regretting saying that immediately. ]
I mean... fuck. We don't know if it's possible, and if it is... what would happen. I could wake up in my grave a million miles away from you guys. I could... not be me.
[ He sighs, pushing back his hair from his face. The red stones he wears as jewelry together with the twine click together a little bit, a reminder of how much he's been through here. How much longer he's known them all than before. ]
None of it is worth risking your chance to go home, either. It's like they said. My story is over.
no subject
We don't know that. It could be fine, or... I'll find you, again. I am good at finding you.
(He's a magnetic personality; Yasha's a compass point. The way that he looks at her breaks her heart.)
... Your story wasn't long enough. Neither was ours.
no subject
Gods, this hurts. He's a hypocrite and a liar to his best girl. ]
You always find me. You even found me here, in some weird time pocket or a broken land that shouldn't exist. That should prove well to find me if there's a next life.
[ Molly reaches out and touches her cheek gently. His hand is shaking, even if he tries to play it off as nothing. ]
I was never really a main character in my own story, love. It was short, but I have no regrets other than leaving you alone.
no subject
(She can't believe she's losing him like this, so simply, too quickly. Yasha has always regretted not being at the fight with Lorenzo to stop him from delivering his killing blow, and that she had to learn of Molly's death in retrospect. But now she's here, standing in front of Molly and seeing the hypothetical glaive position itself directly above his heart and she still can't do anything to stop it. He's going to die, again, and she'll be back to wandering, listening and waiting for thunder to tell her what to do next.
She wants to grab his hand and hold it against her face but she doesn't, for fear of pulling him in closer and never letting go. She has her pride, after all, but oh. It's hard to keep to it in the face of this.)
... Please, (she tries, and her voice lowers, half-stoppered by the lump in her throat,) don't go. You... have to let me try to save you.
no subject
She couldn't save him. There's too much loss. (His lashes are wet.)]
Yasha. [ He says, softly. ] I'm sorry.
[ Molly leans up on his tippy-toes and kisses her forehead. ]
We'll ask who we can, but... you promised me you would go home if you could. Just remember that.
no subject
Because she did promise that, she remembers it. Is it so bad that she only wants to find a way for him to come home too?)
... Okay.
(She needs to leave, she feels itchy with it. The Historian hadn't told her exactly when they would dissolve this world for good but they had used the word 'soon', and she doesn't want to run out of time before she works out a way to fix this. Though, from the way Molly has reacted, Yasha now has the distinct idea that the only person she is doing this for is herself, and she doesn't know how to feel about that at all.
Her expression must be brewing like a storm.)
I can ask. You... stay here. I'll come back. (Just like always.)
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It cracks something inside him again and he wants to lash out, to yell and hiss and scream at her so she hates him and leaves him here. The saner part of him could never do that, because he loves her so much.
Instead he just... stand there. Lost. ]
...alright.
no subject
Anyway. She's going to find Beau, because she really needs somebody to be on her side about this right now if she's going to figure out what to do next.)