She didn't tell me many things about herself. I gathered her life was full of pain and shame, neither of which she should have felt.
I was pleased by her company every time.
[When she uncaps the pen and twists her wrist to write her elegant and simple phrase upon the paper, Solomon will be able to see the edge of the braid there.
[Without quite fully looking up, more out of the corner of her eye.
They both can keep buttoning up those brief shatters as long as they'd like, but this is rather something she's wanted to ask anyway. She'll put it this way to save them both a little dignity (even if she'd happily throw that away, too, for the right result).]
It's only pretending to be a pen, after all. Isn't that what was said?
Yes, and little to show for it, and no way for one of the two of us to scoop it up.
[The wrist with the bracelet lifts slightly; she turns it so the delicate skin on her inner arm faces outward.]
A gift from the past... "Something old," from Annette, who gave it to me when she said she didn't have many things to part with. Many people might have found it a bit unsettling, but I was always the odd child out, myself.
He holds it strangely, held away from the both. For the briefest flicker, the pen vanishes, replaced by the pommel of a dagger, entirely made of iridescent diamond.
It's kept still long enough for her, and her alone, to see, before the blade vanishes into just a pen again.]
[How one of these things led to the next is a smidge interesting and stringy… Solomon has an air about him, but it’s a little difficult to conjure up a reason for such a brutal beat down that would also get noticed as needing its very own self-defense. Couldn’t he use anything else, for that first part? She’ll get to that later.]
And who here has the power to forge such a contract and ensure it will be executed?
[She saw what happened to Noelle's clone, too, and after they discussed the flames from last week's execution, Cantarella's gaze has been keenly pointed towards every working of the place that she can see.]
[At that, he simply smiles, before bending down slightly and pushing his jacket away from the nape of his neck. The demonic sigil is one that's been there since their first trial.]
That would be from our Dramaturge themselves, and myself.
The bond isn't unfamiliar to me. I can confirm it's in place.
[Oh, isn't that interesting... But dissecting what makes it different from the other sigils might need to be left for another day.]
When you're in certain businesses, you calculate deals based on those loopholes and advantageous positions. So I can understand keeping some cards in your vest.
Believe me, I tried. And I made the best decision I believed I could at the time. But who knows what will change.
...
In its most basic: Sika has been bound to their word that they will keep as many of us healthy and alive to the other side of this as is possible. Should they stray from their word, or directly attempt to take the life of a Troupe member even under Father's control, they will be bound, and only my weapon will set them free.
What services have been requested from me in return will also not force me to kill a Troupe member at any point.
What a relief to hear you needn't offer up the one sacrifice you were adamant you didn't want to make.
[She's being a bit precise there; though the first time they'd discussed the pen, Solomon had waved off the idea of himself becoming the sacrifice...Cantarella suspects that he might also need to put some certain amount of himself into his sigils.]
Was Sika Madu forthcoming at all, about what "the other side of this" really entails? We were given a story to play out at the very beginning, but stories are built off of something true, right?
Of course not. There isn't much I can do to help if I'm dead before my time. If and when I die, I would rather it be because I had no other choice, not because it was the easy choice.
[Arrogant and stubborn as he is, even when it comes to life. But he treats it with levity in his tone, as though to talk about it doesn't hold much weight at all.]
Whatever their plan is for escape, they've kept it locked up tight. But they've told much about their motivations.
[His smile sharpens, just slightly.]
They wish to destroy Heaven, and Father along with it. And they wish to resurrect their children, no matter the cost.
[Sentinel above, he can really be a bit insufferable, albeit in a way that she imagines hides the hurt.
Her eyebrows twitch, then knit, as if she is trying to view a piece of art in a gallery from several angles.]
And I take it this agreement you drew up with them is an attempt to factor us out from that cost? Perhaps knowing what would happen once we get to that point would be too advantageous... and not included in your terms.
[If he ignores all the hurt and buries it deep inside then no one ever has to see it!!!! win win]
As much I'd like to say I was that forward thinking, my pact was drawn far before they ever provided me with an honest answer from their lips.
Letting them get too far into their plans without something in place would let the chance slip by me altogether. So what lines I drew, I drew in the knowledge that they could be, among many things, a demon. And a demon that desires something deeply in their being can't be trusted in the way you trust a person.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I was pleased by her company every time.
[When she uncaps the pen and twists her wrist to write her elegant and simple phrase upon the paper, Solomon will be able to see the edge of the braid there.
Annette wanted to be free.]
no subject
[As she writes, his other pen is withdrawn from his coat. A testing against his finger, then against the paper.
It's brief, the moment of surprise when he sees it doesn't work.]
no subject
They both can keep buttoning up those brief shatters as long as they'd like, but this is rather something she's wanted to ask anyway. She'll put it this way to save them both a little dignity (even if she'd happily throw that away, too, for the right result).]
It's only pretending to be a pen, after all. Isn't that what was said?
no subject
He shrugs, apparently too tired to play dumb for her.]
It's not as though I can go telling the truth about it in front of everyone. I'd have a target on my head faster than I could allow.
[...]
Tell me about your bracelet, and I will tell you of this in kind. Please.
no subject
[The wrist with the bracelet lifts slightly; she turns it so the delicate skin on her inner arm faces outward.]
A gift from the past... "Something old," from Annette, who gave it to me when she said she didn't have many things to part with. Many people might have found it a bit unsettling, but I was always the odd child out, myself.
no subject
...She must have had great faith in you, to leave something like that in your care.
no subject
[Not good enough care, perhaps, since she wasn't able to shield her in the end...but Annette won't be written off as simply some sacrifice, either.]
no subject
[As for the pen?
Well. Showing is better, at times, then telling.
He holds it strangely, held away from the both. For the briefest flicker, the pen vanishes, replaced by the pommel of a dagger, entirely made of iridescent diamond.
It's kept still long enough for her, and her alone, to see, before the blade vanishes into just a pen again.]
no subject
Any blade can have any extravagant sheath...But I would say its splendor is defined by its purpose. [Hypothetically, at least, she would say this.
Cantarella has never much believed blades had any significant level of importance above their wielders.]
no subject
It originally wasn't meant to be like this, but someone decided to rearrange my face ever so kindly.
[He flicks the pen between his fingers idly.]
Regardless. Its purpose is only for two things. My own self defense... and to break the bonds that will bind Sika Madu, should they disobey.
no subject
The ones we’ve seen before, our first night?
[After Don.]
no subject
[He sounds irritated about it, but he'd long since put that path out of his mind.]
These will come from elsewhere.
A pact.
no subject
[She saw what happened to Noelle's clone, too, and after they discussed the flames from last week's execution, Cantarella's gaze has been keenly pointed towards every working of the place that she can see.]
no subject
That would be from our Dramaturge themselves, and myself.
The bond isn't unfamiliar to me. I can confirm it's in place.
no subject
[Not that she has memorized each and every one of his sigils, but...come on. She does watch.]
Before I ask how all this is supposed to work... Have you heard anything since you made this agreement that might change how you use your pact?
no subject
Nothing concrete. But no agreement is without its loopholes. And while I understand Sika... I cannot trust them.
I can explain to you the basics. But there are certain things I may need to keep to myself.
no subject
When you're in certain businesses, you calculate deals based on those loopholes and advantageous positions. So I can understand keeping some cards in your vest.
no subject
...
In its most basic: Sika has been bound to their word that they will keep as many of us healthy and alive to the other side of this as is possible. Should they stray from their word, or directly attempt to take the life of a Troupe member even under Father's control, they will be bound, and only my weapon will set them free.
What services have been requested from me in return will also not force me to kill a Troupe member at any point.
no subject
[She's being a bit precise there; though the first time they'd discussed the pen, Solomon had waved off the idea of himself becoming the sacrifice...Cantarella suspects that he might also need to put some certain amount of himself into his sigils.]
Was Sika Madu forthcoming at all, about what "the other side of this" really entails? We were given a story to play out at the very beginning, but stories are built off of something true, right?
no subject
[Arrogant and stubborn as he is, even when it comes to life. But he treats it with levity in his tone, as though to talk about it doesn't hold much weight at all.]
Whatever their plan is for escape, they've kept it locked up tight. But they've told much about their motivations.
[His smile sharpens, just slightly.]
They wish to destroy Heaven, and Father along with it. And they wish to resurrect their children, no matter the cost.
no subject
Her eyebrows twitch, then knit, as if she is trying to view a piece of art in a gallery from several angles.]
And I take it this agreement you drew up with them is an attempt to factor us out from that cost? Perhaps knowing what would happen once we get to that point would be too advantageous... and not included in your terms.
no subject
As much I'd like to say I was that forward thinking, my pact was drawn far before they ever provided me with an honest answer from their lips.
Letting them get too far into their plans without something in place would let the chance slip by me altogether. So what lines I drew, I drew in the knowledge that they could be, among many things, a demon. And a demon that desires something deeply in their being can't be trusted in the way you trust a person.