longer.blue

The void her consciousness entered was far from unfamiliar to her. The silence of her inner self. There was nothing here. There never needed to be, or rather, there needed to not be. She understood the request from earlier, attempting to visualize herself, but it was kind of hard with the figure she sees and the one she feels conflicting. If she had something more absolute to help, something like a mir- Ahh. That's why. Looking into the glass, a figure started to take shape before her, bu5 it was shameful. It wasn't the cracks running up and down his body, it was the way it wasn't her body. The way this hideous creature, this thing looked at her like it was her fault he was here. It looked pitiful. She was pitiful. A voice far from where she was snapped her back to attention before she fell too far. She couldn't make out their words, but she could hear them. That was enough for her right now, not being alone. She reached out toward the shattered soul, and it presented itself to her, letting her do as she wished. Do what felt right. Her hands glided across its form as it started to shift and mold into a new shape, turning into something vibrant and- The sound of a knife cut right by her, and as she jumped in response, it was clear where the slice hit. A shard of glass was stuck in Marisa's hand before slowly, as if with a mind of its own, the blade carved up into her shoulder, creating a massive gash mimicking the one in the soul before her. The noise in her ears was louder, screaming something, but still too far away to tell. The figure before her reached its hand out back to her. It wasn't a request, but a question if she understood what she was doing. If she was willing to carve her new form. It didn't take Marisa very long to think. She's done waiting, willing to give what needed to be given, but as she reached to grab its hand, and seal her commitment, something intervened, yanking on her. No, no she couldn't give up after finally making it so close to the answer. She dove desperately for the outstretched hand of her mirrored soul, but the force that pulled her back was stronger. She didn't even realize she was screaming until it started to hurt, but as the mirrored soul took its hand back into itself, it disappeared, along with the void around her. Another blink, and she was back on the roof, just as before, but now a shattered mirror lay on the floor, a dull, biting pain lay in her arm, (oh she did do that, right), and Bridget stood between her and the mirror holding her, shaking. “Bridget?... What happened…?” Hearing the other's raspy, confused voice, Bridget finally took a chance to look down, her voice briefly caught in her mouth. “M-Marisa? Oh gods, are you alright? The second the ritual started, the mirror exploded toward you and-and the shards dove at you like missiles-” She had let Marisa go before hunting around scrambling back to a bag she must have brought up earlier just in case. Looking back toward the pain, muted with adrenaline, a line of red dripped down off of her, running up her arm and ending in a fragment of glass. Actually, the more she looked the more she noticed that there was more than one. “- and I don't even know if this is going to work because of your resistance so you might just need to heal naturally after we take the shards out and-” “The mirror's… broken?” The space upon the roof halts for just a second as the realization sets in, Marisa's raspy voice filled with the sound of defeat teetering over a ledge. “Yes, but that's not the biggest deal right now. You're openly bleeding! I had to stop the ritual so that we could treat-” “YOU stopped the ritual?” “I had to, hun! Look at yourself! Please just take a seat so I can-” “I'M NOT YOUR ‘HUN’!” Their eyes met, and it was the worst feeling in the world. “I’m not your ‘dear', or your ‘sweetie’ or any of that bullshit! What the hell do you mean you stopped the ritual?! I had it! WE had it! It was right there! I could have-” “NO! Listen to me, hu-... Marisa, please. I don't know what you saw inside of yourself but from where I was, you were literally carving yourself open! Full hand fisting the shard in your shoulder! If I had let that go on, you would have died! You're not immortal!” “Then make me immortal! You're immortal right?! FUCK, your whole COVEN is immortal!! If that's all I have to do to fix it then fine!” “It doesn't work like that!!” Marisa couldn't stop it anymore. She could feel the drops fall off her hand, tears mixed with blood, her vision blurring. “I don't care how it works!! This is the answer! We finally, FINALLY found the missing piece and suddenly YOU'RE pulling out?!” “Marisa, I promise there IS an answer, but not at the cost of your LIFE. Please, just let me treat your wounds… please…” In mention of her injuries, her left hand raised to the shard she dragged up her arm before she stopped, gears turning in her broken mind. She can't hold magic inside of her, which is why she uses her pendant made of soulglass. The shard in her arm is made of soulglass. Maybe it's still holding the ritual magic. Maybe she can try again. Bridget's eyes widen as she puts together Marisa's silence. “Marisa, don't-” She reaches for Marisa's arm and grabs it, but as she pulls her toward the chair, her patient warps away, just to the door, but in the half second that Bridget needed to realize what was going on, Marisa was already warping down the stairs, practically glitching out before she left the building. “MARISA!”