she sees hunter go still, though. and she knows how unpleasant it is, to have your personal traumas displayed for everyone. so she sits awkwardly, hands laced together, and looks at him.]
I'm sorry to have seen that. If you are like me, the painful ones repeat most frequently.
[oh. she looks at him very seriously when he says that, taking in his expression and the request.
and then, she bows her head to him, takes out a small piece of jagged glass, and cuts across her palm. there's a small amount of blood from the wound, but dips a finger in it.]
My House is known as the House of the Sewn Tongue. Throughout the centuries, we have been bidden to keep secrets small and secrets terrible, and we have done our duty. Even in the cold dark of the burial niche, until the tongue rots away, until the jawbone crumbles to dust, not a sound shall be heard of those secrets we are bound to protect.
[she takes her bloodied finger and draws the bare lines of the jawless skull over the paint already on her face.]
When I offer you my bond of silence, know that I speak as Harrowhark Nonagesimus, the Reverend Daughter of the House of the Ninth, and I stake my honour and vow that it shall remain unspoken of.
[this was so unnecessary. but she means well; she doesn't really trust people to keep her secrets so she offers something more serious than trust because she feels like he needs it.]
[Help. This is the single most extra thing everyone has ever done for him in his life, but it sure does the trick to snap him out of his MoodTM! He squawks in surprise, watching her with wide eyes as she goes ahead and does this whole thing. Silent all the way to the end.
And then, quietly:]
... Thanks. I mean it. [Very sorry to report, he sounds like he's choking back tears. Embarrassing! He sniffs and clears his throat, offering her a wobbly smile.] Is, uh, is your hand okay?
[it's just a minor cut on her hand man nbd. anyway, she'll politely look away from his tears but honestly, it makes her feel happy, a bit, that the insane shit she just said was taken for the gesture she meant it as.
anyway, he can get a fucked up memory of his own. and eli can get it too because i couldn't remember which filter was which.]
[See, the thing is, he would also do a blood pact if he thought it would make a friend feel better. This is a very sane and acceptable thing to do? Well, besides the part where she made her hand go owie and a pinkie swear would have probably been just as good for him.
The two-hundred dead children is a little less sane for him, though, and he sucks in a breath while rubbing at his face. Hope Eli enjoys the insanity of the locked tomb series, too.]
I'm... sorry. That I saw that. [Haltingly. It's a lot! He chews on his lower lip for a second, debating whether or not to acknowledge it, but.] It's... hard. To know you were only born because someone else died so you could exist.
[Being someone else's corpse, kind of, is not the relatable content he expected to see in the void today.]
[it's nice that someone understands how much it feels like she's never had any real choices. but she also feels like she can't allow herself to wallow in pity over it.]
And I am hardly the most victimized, in these circumstances. I am alive, and me, and quite powerful. I did not die a brutal death for someone else's plot.
[yeah, that would be rude. anyway - damn. sorry, but this cuts her to the core. she has to rub her eyes real quick for no reason. there is a sacred pact of not sharing each other's shit in effect right now.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Well, go ahead and play it already.
[hateful.]
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[Hm? The screen flickers to life.]
—con...traption...
[Trailing off, Hunter goes very, very still and very, very quiet for the duration of the memory.]
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she sees hunter go still, though. and she knows how unpleasant it is, to have your personal traumas displayed for everyone. so she sits awkwardly, hands laced together, and looks at him.]
I'm sorry to have seen that. If you are like me, the painful ones repeat most frequently.
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... It's fine. [It's not, but.] It's— You didn't choose this.
[He pauses, and then glances at her quickly before looking away.]
Harrowhark, that... thing... he said about me. Don't tell anyone else. Please.
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and then, she bows her head to him, takes out a small piece of jagged glass, and cuts across her palm. there's a small amount of blood from the wound, but dips a finger in it.]
My House is known as the House of the Sewn Tongue. Throughout the centuries, we have been bidden to keep secrets small and secrets terrible, and we have done our duty. Even in the cold dark of the burial niche, until the tongue rots away, until the jawbone crumbles to dust, not a sound shall be heard of those secrets we are bound to protect.
[she takes her bloodied finger and draws the bare lines of the jawless skull over the paint already on her face.]
When I offer you my bond of silence, know that I speak as Harrowhark Nonagesimus, the Reverend Daughter of the House of the Ninth, and I stake my honour and vow that it shall remain unspoken of.
[this was so unnecessary. but she means well; she doesn't really trust people to keep her secrets so she offers something more serious than trust because she feels like he needs it.]
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And then, quietly:]
... Thanks. I mean it. [Very sorry to report, he sounds like he's choking back tears. Embarrassing! He sniffs and clears his throat, offering her a wobbly smile.] Is, uh, is your hand okay?
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[it's just a minor cut on her hand man nbd. anyway, she'll politely look away from his tears but honestly, it makes her feel happy, a bit, that the insane shit she just said was taken for the gesture she meant it as.
anyway, he can get a fucked up memory of his own. and eli can get it too because i couldn't remember which filter was which.]
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The two-hundred dead children is a little less sane for him, though, and he sucks in a breath while rubbing at his face. Hope Eli enjoys the insanity of the locked tomb series, too.]
I'm... sorry. That I saw that. [Haltingly. It's a lot! He chews on his lower lip for a second, debating whether or not to acknowledge it, but.] It's... hard. To know you were only born because someone else died so you could exist.
[Being someone else's corpse, kind of, is not the relatable content he expected to see in the void today.]
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Yes. I wasn't consulted, yet I will always live with it.
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[No takebacksies on murder or coming out of the womb.]
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[it's nice that someone understands how much it feels like she's never had any real choices. but she also feels like she can't allow herself to wallow in pity over it.]
And I am hardly the most victimized, in these circumstances. I am alive, and me, and quite powerful. I did not die a brutal death for someone else's plot.
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Well... For what it's worth, despite everything else, I'm glad you're you.
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...Let's get out of here before it can do more.
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[FAREWELL, CURSED TV... May they never speak of this again.]