Robin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fallingdream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
wrfmlogs2012-07-21 08:44 pm
fallingdream) wrote in wrfmlogs2012-07-21 08:44 pm
twisted little star, dark and shining
Who: Medrau
What: Not brooding
Where: In the back of Song's mind
When: Sometime this week. It matters not.
Notes: Just that it's quite short.
Medrau did not brood. She liked to think she was above it. She sulked, yes, but it wasn't nearly the same thing. She was very good at sulking.
What she did now, in her little corner of Song's mind, didn't really qualify as sulking. It was, however, most certainly not brooding! She would fiercely deny any implications to the contrary.
She was not-brooding because she had become aware of a dire mistake. Oh, her attempts to mend herself and manipulate Song had played out perfectly. She'd gained access to the wards with her emotionally erratic vessel none-the-wiser. It was the steps taken to allow such meddling that had proven the mistake.
Until now, she had maintained her existence with a careful array of walls and empty spaces meant to separate her consciousness from Song's. This had worked fantastically, until Song went and tore out a good chunk of her Darkness without leaving Medrau an opening to take it back. She had, instead, chosen the more drastic (and perhaps insane) measure, and mended the gaping holes with corresponding pieces of Song. The problem was, those pieces were not pure Darkness. No where near, in fact. She'd taken Light into her being, and then even further twined the threads of her essence with Song's in order to manipulate the Refugee subconsciously. She had altered her own structure in order to gain that small measure of control.
In her desperation, she had actively refused to consider the dangers in such an act.
Now, she could no longer avoid them.
She was second-guessing herself.
"You're playing the game, Medrau," she said aloud, indulging in the private display of madness. "You're acting the part of the villain, full tilt, but do you even know where you're going? Song was embarrassed. You overcompensated, Medrau. Over-acted. Over dramatized. Whatever. You made a fool of yourself, and that's what they think of you. A fool. What are you, against the backdrop of their fallen enemies? You are pathetic, and cliche. Nothing new, to the Refugees. No concern at all, really. So where's your purpose? How. Can you. Amend. This?"
Her little void pocket rippled and pulsed, disturbed by her falter of conviction.
"By changing the game. By doing something greater. Something unexpected. If you can't be the enemy they need, then be the hero they don't want. It's so simple. Your plan doesn't even have to change. You know, Medrau.... You know it would have failed anyway. So. Let that be the key. Give them a surprise."
Bearing her teeth at the bright void, she flexed the many strands of Darkness that seeped into Song's consciousness. They twitched and teased like the fingertips of a puppeteer. She crafted suggestions, tiny ideas and worries built to nag and grow. She knew Song's workings better than her own, it seemed, and she also knew how to turn a weakness into an advantage.
What: Not brooding
Where: In the back of Song's mind
When: Sometime this week. It matters not.
Notes: Just that it's quite short.
Medrau did not brood. She liked to think she was above it. She sulked, yes, but it wasn't nearly the same thing. She was very good at sulking.
What she did now, in her little corner of Song's mind, didn't really qualify as sulking. It was, however, most certainly not brooding! She would fiercely deny any implications to the contrary.
She was not-brooding because she had become aware of a dire mistake. Oh, her attempts to mend herself and manipulate Song had played out perfectly. She'd gained access to the wards with her emotionally erratic vessel none-the-wiser. It was the steps taken to allow such meddling that had proven the mistake.
Until now, she had maintained her existence with a careful array of walls and empty spaces meant to separate her consciousness from Song's. This had worked fantastically, until Song went and tore out a good chunk of her Darkness without leaving Medrau an opening to take it back. She had, instead, chosen the more drastic (and perhaps insane) measure, and mended the gaping holes with corresponding pieces of Song. The problem was, those pieces were not pure Darkness. No where near, in fact. She'd taken Light into her being, and then even further twined the threads of her essence with Song's in order to manipulate the Refugee subconsciously. She had altered her own structure in order to gain that small measure of control.
In her desperation, she had actively refused to consider the dangers in such an act.
Now, she could no longer avoid them.
She was second-guessing herself.
"You're playing the game, Medrau," she said aloud, indulging in the private display of madness. "You're acting the part of the villain, full tilt, but do you even know where you're going? Song was embarrassed. You overcompensated, Medrau. Over-acted. Over dramatized. Whatever. You made a fool of yourself, and that's what they think of you. A fool. What are you, against the backdrop of their fallen enemies? You are pathetic, and cliche. Nothing new, to the Refugees. No concern at all, really. So where's your purpose? How. Can you. Amend. This?"
Her little void pocket rippled and pulsed, disturbed by her falter of conviction.
"By changing the game. By doing something greater. Something unexpected. If you can't be the enemy they need, then be the hero they don't want. It's so simple. Your plan doesn't even have to change. You know, Medrau.... You know it would have failed anyway. So. Let that be the key. Give them a surprise."
Bearing her teeth at the bright void, she flexed the many strands of Darkness that seeped into Song's consciousness. They twitched and teased like the fingertips of a puppeteer. She crafted suggestions, tiny ideas and worries built to nag and grow. She knew Song's workings better than her own, it seemed, and she also knew how to turn a weakness into an advantage.