sranks | a necromancer and a priestess walk into a confessional

[It's something Amaya should realize, really. That Zvei has made all of these exceptions for her, and that he doesn't do this out of obligation. That'd imply he did anything out of obligation that wasn't strictly necessary to survive. She should know this by now, and maybe she should have some sort of reaction that isn't waiting for the other shoe to drop, metaphorically.

Amaya's breath catches for a moment when his hand goes back into her hair, and the Dragon keeps making a ruckus of her mind. Reminding her of every reason she can't merely accept this as it is; she was not made to want. She was not made to need. She was not made for soft gestures of kindness that she can't understand. Even back when Satsuki did something like this for her, taking her into those spindly yet warm arms of hers and letting Amaya bask in her warmth in such a similar manner, it had been something Amaya had only really accepted toward the end of their little week together, only a day before she...

Amaya seizes for a moment, forcing herself to relax as the dragon assaults her with the thought of that day. She should let him go. It's only a matter of time before she's standing over him while he's bloodstained, probably laughing and saying something inane like it's the most beautiful she's ever been while she simultaneously wants to tear his throat out and cry her heart out. She shuts her eyes, grip on his hand tightening.

It takes quite the long while for Amaya to come back into herself, her grip going between slightly crushing and firm but tense over and over again. She doesn't speak for a single moment, and she isn't sure if Zvei is going to want to check in with her. She doesn't want to talk, to think, to do anything, but if she lets control slip, she'll hurt him, and she...doesn't want to do that.

Amaya Sasaki may be a blighted, cursed, terrible woman who deserves the stones and horrible words thrown at her by the other nations, but just this one, she wants to keep someone safe. To keep them close by her side, and safe all the same.

It takes about a half an hour before Amaya's shaking and tenseness finally eases, the Dragon finally having enough and letting her head go back to normal...Amaya doesn't immediately speak up, either way. But...]

...I think...she's finally through...

[Amaya freezes up and Zvei pauses, waiting for her reaction. Her grip on his hand tightens, and he's not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. It frustrates him even on the best of days how difficult it can be to try to read others - this is something that most people seem to have an innate grasp of, and yet he simply doesn't understand without it being spelled out in tiny words for him. He can't even ask Amaya now what the problem is or how to help solve it - and she's one of the few people who accepts his lack of knowledge and understanding without complaint. Were this anyone else, they'd likely be disappointed that he isn't picking up on cues that most others would somehow innately understand.

It's almost akin to a puzzle - for most people, they have the missing pieces and can determine where they go with little issue. For Zvei, he's missing at least one key piece and can't complete the full picture. It's always been like this, for as long as he can remember. Does his past hold answers for why he's like this? Answers for how to do better, be better about this sort of thing? He needs to find out. He may not ultimately care much about most others, but for someone like Amaya, it frustrates him that he doesn't know how to help without asking, and that he can't properly solve the puzzle she's laid out clearly for him.

Eventually she begins to relax, though her grip on his hand is nearly painful. He says nothing about it and simply accepts it, because she's clearly fighting things through with the Dragon and he has no place in that internal struggle. So he waits, hand still against her hair, though he doesn't pull back any either.

Slowly, slowly, she wins her battle and the tenseness and shaking finally cease. Almost immediately he's playing with her hair again, a silent congratulations, maybe.]

How are you feeling after all that?

...Drained, truthfully. My head aches a little still, but at least she's stopped making a ruckus...

[Amaya eases into the hair playing easily, though, the emptiness that enters her far preferable to everything else right now as she moves to lace her fingers with his. A silent thanks, more than anything.]

Terribly sorry about that. But...thank you; having you here truly did help, I confess.

[...]

Did I hurt you?

I'm pleased I could help.

[It didn't exactly feel like enough at the time, but she has no reason to lie to him. If Amaya says he helped, then he helped. It really is that simple.

The question gets a soft chuckle from him, and Zvei sends a flicker of healing magic over both their hands.]

No, you didn't. But even if you had, you know I can heal it, and that I wouldn't hold it against you.

[...]

Though I also know that such a thing wouldn't matter and you'd still blame yourself...

[The healing magic sends a warm sensation through Amaya, easing some of that leftover pain in her head and at least giving her a bit of energy. She's more than thankful for that; she's always appreciated Zvei simply staying by, because in her eyes, that's more than enough when she offers him literally nothing--

But it's that last sentence that startles her a bit, and well...he's not wrong, but damn, dude--]

Of course I would. It's my job to maintain self control at all times; you know that well by now.

[The callout hurts a bit, but he isn't wrong, though she keeps her grip on his hand.]

...Thank you. For your patience, and your willingness to let me be a mess around you. While I know not if I can offer anything in return, I...appreciate this. All of it, immensely.

Your presence truly does have a way of granting me peace, however brief.

You sell yourself short, miss Amaya. You don't have to offer me anything in return - your presence is more than enough, I assure you.

[She likely doesn't think it's enough, but it is. It always has been. Zvei hums a bit as he plays with her hair.]

I'm pleased, truly. Knowing that I can help in some way means quite a bit to me, you know! I can only imagine how difficult it is to deal with her.

[But Amaya isn't alone anymore, and that does have to count for something, right?]

[A statement like that flies in the face of everything she knows. The idea that what he offers is unconditional, that she doesn't have to offer anything in return...it hits her oddly, admittedly. She's always believed she has to provide some kind of value to someone. That's just the way she was raised; always to provide to the people, to give everything of herself to them, and if she has nothing to offer--]

...It's as if there's someone, constantly, within your mind that you cannot shut up for the life of you that spells all of your biggest insecurities out. Who can control your very nerves, your thoughts, and even consume you near entirely to make your body act like a marionette.

Believe me; you would hate it beyond compare.

[...]

...I do apologize that it is such a struggle, to accept that I do not need to provide some sort of value to you, in order for you to stay. It is...something I am not accustom to; that unconditionalness is truly something so foreign, but I...

I would not want this any other way, with you.

[What Amaya describes is indeed something he would hate. Zvei doesn't hate much, but anyone or anything getting in the way of his freedom always irritates him. He's been blessed to have such freedom within his line of work, after all. Someone controlling him like a puppet on a string sounds truly awful.]

You don't need to apologize. But perhaps it would help for me to word it like this: you do provide value to me, something that most other people don't, and that's why I offer you so much in turn. You're a fascinating woman, miss Amaya. I have always liked the unknown and unexplained, and it feels as though there's always more to learn about you. No matter how much I uncover, there's always greater mysteries to see and solve - you are truly one of a kind.

Though framing it as though you're something of a curiosity feels a bit silly, doesn't it?

[It's certainly true, but that also diminishes how much she means to him. If she were only a curiosity, he wouldn't go so far out of his way for her. But she likely knows that already, doesn't she?]

...If it is, then it is nothing I mind, I assure you.

[...Just ignore that her face is in fact heating up a little, though thankfully he can't likely see that. Maybe feel it, but hm. Her face is definitely getting warm.]

I would have thought that you would have grown incredibly bored of me by now, if anything. Curiosity...you have always stated that it has been your driving force, and I would have thought that my morose nature would have driven someone as cheerful as you far away.

I...rather like that you can find new things about me. [...Can she pull him in to be a little closer, she wants to--] And I...think I truly do like what you offer to me, too.

A friendship that does not feel so...performative, forced.

[Thankfully for Amaya, he can't see it so she's safe! For now!!]

Isn't that half the fun, though? You're so drastically different from anything I've known and experienced - that's always going to be fascinating, no matter how "morose" you might be. If anything, I find it charming~

[Amaya is cute and he likes her, so!! Anyway, he allows that, settling against her easily and moving to wind his arms around her to keep her there.]

I'm pleased I can offer you that. It's... nice. Better than "nice", even.

[But finding any sort of emotional way to describe it is hard, so that'll have to do for now.]

I would think it draining, more than anything. But I...do not mind that. There are very few who would want to be around me without changing who I am, fundamentally as a person.

[...]

I...think that it is nice for me, too. The thought produces an emptiness in me that is vast, and overwhelming--I wonder what I would be feeling, if I did not have this curse upon my heart? Elation? Joy, perhaps?

I know not, at least with certainty. But I would not want to share this feeling with anyone else.

[She squeezes his hand, gentler this time. Her free hand seems to gently, if shakily climb up, and though it pauses as always...

Well. She's going to return that hairplaying, just a bit, with some of her own.]

[Zvei waits patiently for her to decide what it is she wants to do, and when her hand finds its way into his hair, he leans into it with a soft hum.]

I'm pleased that I can provide such a feeling to you, even if it isn't something that you can derive any sort of joy from. Emptiness is better than the usual, I'd assume.

[Where a positive feeling would go, were she capable of feeling it. What is it like, he wonders. At least he can feel such positive things, even if they never last for very long.]

a necromancer and a priestess walk into a confessional

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