Carrie / Agatha / Kynegetis (Alt-Canon)
Spoiler: What Love Is: A Brief Musical in Six PartsSpoiler: Chapter 1: All That GlittersCarrion Andrews has been a proud Selenite and follower of Ponera, Goddess of Envy, for six years. Ever since druids killed her parents, the Selenites took her in and showed her that the only way to survive is to become the fittest. When they told her it was time to make Vulpania pay, it was so easy to remind her that the enemy king was a druid. A druid with a big happy family...
That bastard. That absolute bastard. Every moment she thinks about King Tobias, Carrie is driven to greater rage. He gets to be a king and have a loving wife, a son, daughters... and here she is. Sure, she has a gorgeous girlfriend and heaps of power and prestige, but every scrap of it she had to fight and backstab and blackmail and extort for. And it is never enough, it never makes her any happier.
Some days she feels like she's trying to fill a bottomless pit with diamonds. But right now, straightening her tie and brushing ash from her suit, Carrie rides high on adrenaline and pride.
---
Agatha has always wanted to be a seamstress. Just a seamstress; it makes her happy and she does good work and it's all she's needed... but for the trappings of her society. Even tailoring in the City of Envy is to be part of a war with one's competitors. Even though she knows some very valuable... techniques, she's always wanted to stay just below the radar and work without having to worry too much.
And then she met a girl named Carrie. A girl with a taste for blood and a taste for suits and an eye for pretty girls with nice figures and dextrous hands. And so Agatha became attached to a beautiful rising star in Ponerian society...
Or shackled to one?
The door to their penthouse apartment opens and Carrie sweeps in, frock coat dramatically billowing behind her. Agatha charmed it to do that at her girlfriend's request, of course. Carrie seats herself in the plush lap of the other black-haired girl, amber eyes meeting icy blue as she kisses her. "Hiya, babe, brought you a little something from the battle." Atop the nice smooth fabric Aggie just ironed, she pours from her pocket a few fistfuls of the spoils of war. "Like it?"
Aggie sighs and prods at the gold and pearls. "Yes, but I'd like them better if they weren't mussing up the satin." She brushes the loot off to the side of her workspace, looking at the dress order for a moment. The man who ordered the dress wants it as an anniversary gift for his wife, a revival of a dress she had and loved as a young girl but lost in a fire. Design notes sit side-by-side with old pictures... would Carrie do that for her? It seems all she does these days is bring back whatever spoils she's collected and... tug her toward the bed like she's doing now.
Ah well.
---
Carrie looks over her shoulder from the balcony to the bed, eyes flicking over her girlfriend. Standing at the railing stark naked, she knows how many people want to kill her right now. She also knows that they won't, because they fear either what she'll do if they fail, or what backup plans she'll have even if she should be killed. That's easy. But Aggie? Aggie doesn't look happy, even though she has an enthusiastic lover constantly bringing her gifts.
"Aggs... what's wrong? Is it the gold, don't you like it? Do you want more? Do you want something else, like silver or platiinum? Girl, what's wrong?" She sighs.
Killed you some Vulpanians
No tricks at the wheel
I don't fear anyone
I won't even just pretend
Honey, we're Ponerians
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all Ponerians?
Here's a golden hairpin
Beat the owner in with a rock
Thought it'd please my woman
Why's your heart still bound with this lock?
Aren't we just Ponerians?
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all Ponerians?
Honey, we're Ponerians
Honey, I'd bring you the stars
Jade combs for your hair and
Sparkling gems from afar
Honey, we're Ponerians
Aren't we all Ponerians?
Aren't we all Ponerians?
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all Ponerians?
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all just Ponerians?
It's the state of the world
I'm afraid I can't help it
I'm afraid I can't
Aren't we all Ponerians?
I am a Ponerian
Turning back from the evening view of the City of Envy, Carrie sees Agatha facing away, laying on her side, probably asleep.
She makes a frustrated little sound and curls up beside her girlfriend, eyes sliding shut as she sates herself on dreams of glory over the Vulpanians...
Spoiler: Chapter 2: The Other SideKynegetis, Angela the Huntress, is understandably a hot item when it comes to Selenites. They all want a go at her, a chance to prove that they can defeat the totally badass daughter of the badass enemy leader, and maybe win her heart because they're super great and this is usually the point at which she has interrupted their train of thought by shanking them in the everything.
And the creepy fanmail. Oh boy, they just keep finding new ways to get it to her, especially the followers of the god of pride... but this one's more unusual. Both in that a) it's from a follower of Envy's incarnation and b) it was delivered as a memory recording of the last moments of a Vulpanian soldier via his severed head.
The beginning indicates he was tied to a tree; a girl in a dove-grey suit and paisley tie, black hair blowing in the wind, steps back from her terrified captive. "Now be a good boy and stay there... cripes, I hope this works this time. Ahem... greetings, Kynegetis. See these dead people I arranged in the shape of your name? Yeah, that's for you, doll. I've seen your work and it's hard not to admire... in a "totally hate you" way. So I felt like you deserved a personal message. I want to say... oh, how do I put it?
Oh! Perhaps like this."
Come on down to the other side
Come with me through the gates of hell
Where I'll drag you from where you are
To where you belong
Come on down to the other side
Come with me through the gates of hell
Where I'll drag you from where you are
To where you belong
There's so much
To fear
Your last breaths
Are here
This ship is coming down
This ship is coming down
This ship is coming down
Coming down coming down
You
You are so precious
A diamond in the rough
And when you try to escape
I'll be holding on
And I can't sleep until this is done
You're in my head, you're in my soul
Come on down to the other side
Come with me through the gates of hell
Where I'll drag you from where you are
To where you belong
Come on down to the other side
Come with me through the gates of hell
Where I'll drag you from where you are
To where you belong
I'll
Take you completely
And everything you own
From the cover to the cover
The cover to the cover
Your lover (to your brother)
To your mother (to the others)
You... you are so precious
So won't you come my way?
Your life is falling apart
Under the waves
And I can't sleep until this is done
You're in my head, you're in my soul
Through the gates of hell
I know you
This ship is coming down
This ship is coming down
Coming down...
...Down to the other side
Come with me through the gates of hell
Where I'll drag you from where you are
To where you belong
Come on down to the other side
Come with me through the gates of hell
Where I'll drag you from where you are
To where you belong
"... So. Heh. You know where you'll find me, babe, and you know what I want. As for my girlfriend, perhaps she could use you somehow---you could model her dresses for her, or at least act as a hatrack. Don't leave me hangin', toots." She giggled, advancing on the 'cameraman' with a sizzling hum from her right hand, orange energy coalescing into a blade...
Kyne sighs.
"... Dad, tell me I can make an example of this one."
---
Agatha had gotten to see the woman's face when she tried on the dress in the mirror. The way her eyes lit up and then went straight to he husband... she looked happy, and it looked like the happiness came from her spouse. She had managed to maneuver them into staying just a little longer as she asked about their marriage, how long they'd been together. What seemed like innocent shop-talk hid a hunger, a jealousy, a yearning for what they had and she didn't.
It's not fair, she thinks as she watches them go. She cares about Carrie, she really does, and she wants her to be happy... but doesn't she deserve to be happy too? Carrie doesn't make her happy, she just tries to solve the problem with sex and trinkets like it's all she knows to do. And perhaps it is all she knows... but she can't leave Carrie because, damnably, she does love the girl. And yet, the way the Blightwalker warrior acts, it seems doubful that she cares as much---so how long would she put up with being told of her deficiencies before she dropped Agatha like a hot potato?
Trapped between a rock and a hard place with a girl who tries to substitute warmth with wealth.
Spoiler: 3. Astonishing Panorama of Your Last Breath - No Longer Numb?The orange energy from Carrie's hands sharpens into blades as she cuts down another Vulpanian soldier. Grinning, she starts to loot the body before it's even cold, the tenth one today...
She dives to the side a heartbeat before the knife hits the dirt, thus ensuring that's all it hits---rather than taking her right through the spine.
A lithe, slim redhead drops from a dead tree---Kynegetis the huntress.
"You called me. Here I am. Get dead."
Carrie grins as they start to circle each other. "Oh, what an honor... I'm afraid you're going to be the one in trouble, sweetheart." Waves of black pulse across her sclera as her canines seem, for a moment, sharp; sinuous tattoos flicker up her bare hands away up the sleeves of her frock coat. Stepping forward, her speed starts to rival Kyne's. A flurry of silver and orange flashes and hisses between them as they begin their deadly dance.
This girl's got a head like an atom bomb
Hang you from the walls, show that I'm number one
And I've been waiting so long
To get it on
Girl, I'm 19, but I'm still 12-gauge
Wanna hang your daddy's corpse in a cage
I've already written your last page
It's the latest rage
Violence for the people
We always eat the hand that bleeds
Violence for the people
Give the kids what they need
I'll kill your gods, kill your gods,
Your family
I've been purified by the sinner gods
Burning through your dross like a revelation
Let the jaws engulf you
Like a puppet head
Violence for the people
We always eat the hand that bleeds
Violence for the people
Give the kids what they need
I'll kill your gods, kill your gods,
Your family
This is what you should fear
I am what you should fear
Violence for the people
We always eat the hand that bleeds
Violence for the people
Give the kids what they need
I'll kill your gods, kill your gods,
Your family
Violence for the people
We always eat the hand that bleeds
Violence for the people
Give the kids what they need
I'll kill your gods, your family
kill your gods, your family
kill your gods, your family
---
The two stare at each other, each exhausted, panting, and nicked here and there. Kyne glowers at this overconfident mortal, this prettied-up popinjay who thinks herself equal to the Huntress. But Carrie can't take her eyes off Kyne for different reasons---somehow, her lithe, sinuous body captivates her; her fiery red hair, her piercing eyes, just draw her in.
She's so engrossed that when Kyne gets up and starts to back away, she only blurts out, "W-where are you going?"
Kyne stares at her like she'd just asked to borrow her car for a few days. "... Both sides are pulling back. I am leaving, and so should you, idiot."
"Oh... yeah, I guess they are. Um..." Carrie blinks; where's her usual rapier wit? "... Bye then." NO THAT WAS STUPID STUPID DUMB. She gets up and starts to back away, hoping the flush of exertion covers the sudden blush in her cheeks. What's wrong with her?
---
Carrie comes home and Agatha is ready for posturing and lust and all the things Carrie does when she comes home with her pockets full of loot and her kill-count increased by a few handfuls.
Carrie puts a handful of brooches and pendants and medals on the side of the work table, throwing her clothes on the bed with an uncommon lack of... energy. Not just fatigue---being physically worn has never stopped Carrie's antics---but something deeper.
"Hi babe, 'm gonna take a shower..." She stumbles over to kiss Agatha's cheek, then walks into the bathroom. The pattering hiss of the showerhead starts up, the roll of the sliding glass door...
Confused, Agatha walks through the bathroom door Carrie never bothered to close. "Hon? You okay? You seem really out of it..."
"'m okay." Even at her most laconic, Carrie tends to be more polysyllabic than that...
"... Well, I'm coming in with you, alright?" Agatha listens closely for the response.
"'Kay."
Unnerved, Agatha undresses and steps in behind her lover. Something's just... really, really not right.
Hello? Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me
Is there anyone home?
Come on now
I know you're feeling down
Let me ease your pain
And get you on your feet again
Sweetie, you need to let me help you first
Won't you let me in?
Won't you show me where it hurts?
There is no pain, it's just confusion
And you are hazy 'bove the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was out there, I had a feeling
My heart felt just like a balloon
Now I have that feeling even still
I can't explain, I barely understand
This is not how I am
I have become no longer numb
Carrie, don't tell me this is some trick
It's just that you---(AAAAAAAAAHHHH!)
That you sound a little sick
Can you stand up?
Sounds like your body's working, good
Though your face has yet to show
Why won't you just let me know?
There is no pain, it's just confusion
And you are hazy 'bove the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was out there
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
And I have become
No longer numb.
---
Carrie lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Agatha's barely gotten a peep out of her all evening, just mumbles and uncomfortable silence. The seamstress nestles in under Carrie's arm, an action that would at least earn her a half-joking eyeroll for being 'clingy'.
Carrie doesn't react at all. Her thoughts are full of Kynegetis and the strange fluttering her heart does around her.
Spoiler: 4. What Love Is - Nobody HomeEach time she's seen Kyne again, Carrie has felt so strange. It's throwing her off her game; she's not bringing home quite as much loot for Aggie as usual, and that's probably why her girlfriend has seemed even more dissatisfied lately. Carrie resents and loathes the Huntress for doing this to her, however she's done it. She's tried killing extra Vulpanians to get back at her, but it doesn't feel as fun any more.
And now she has her again, another one-on-one. Kyne is beyond words now, already moving to strike, and Carrie's glad of it---she doesn't know what to say other than the strange mess bubbling up inside, this confused collage of emotions...
And suddenly, between knife parries and lunges, she starts to let it out, the words riding on the breaths between strikes. Something changes on the Huntress's face and Carrie brightens, thinking something she said has clicked and she's finally going to get some sort of answer that makes things make sense, and---
Foot meets girl.Girl leaves ground. Girl meets tree trunk, reunites with ground.
Kyne hunkers down a couple yards away, looking at Carrie with more than her usual disgust. Before she looked at her like she wanted to kill her. Now she looks at her like... like... trash? A stain on the carpet?
"... You just came on to me. You just tried to come on to me in battle, and you weren't doing it just to annoy me---trust me, I know that well enough." She shakes her head, sighing. "I really don't get you... how can a person understand the whole relationship thing even more poorly than I do? You threaten my family, you kill my people, you mock me and bug me and strut and brag and now you turn around and suddenly you're pouring out your feelings to me?" She strides over, reaches down... and takes Carrie's pocket square.
"I have a lot of trouble dealing with people and my feelings about them. It's hard for me to express what I want a lot of the time, even when I understand what I want, which is rare enough... but I still think that someday, I will find someone. I will raise a child with them, maybe more than one, and I'll try to teach my child or children to be good people. They'll achieve more in one day of growing and learning than I have in a year of fighting. But you? You don't seem to have the slightest inkling how this sort of thing works. What were you going to do if I had responded positively to your clumsy little overture?"
"I---"
"Elope with me? Convert me to the ways of glorious Ponera? Join the Vulpanians? Were you planning to bring a picnic basket next time so we could find a quiet spot on the battlefield and hold hands when nobody's looking?" Kyne tosses the soiled handkerchief back at Carrie, who cringes. "What's wrong with you? How broken do you have to be not to realize that your... your little crush, or whatever, means nothing?"
Turning and starting to walk away, Kyne sighs. "I can't even feel sorry for you. It just makes me sick."
---
Carrie watches her walk away, tears rolling down her cheeks. It's not the rejection that hurts---she's realized now that all she felt there was... lust? Idle infatuation? The hurt comes from what the rebuke made her realize.
No kindness for a puppet
And no warmth from a hunter,
Cold and shivering, showered in gold and bangles.
What I wouldn't give for
A way to turn back time now
Instead all I see is me, not seeing you
Aching for love
I've done everything wrong, my dear
And I'm sorry,
I'm sorry
I let you
down.
No freedom for a soldier
And no disobeying orders,
Bruises on a broken neck from strangulation.
Pain sears through my body
Reminding me of my failure
Is living like this better than fatal exsanguination?
I've done everything wrong, my dear
And I'm sorry,
I'm sorry
'bout the love I left you without.
Yeah, I'm sorry I let you down,
I'm sorry I'll skip town,
but what good is sorry going to do now?
If I could die for how I've hurt you
And you'd find somebody else
The best I can hope for,
I hope to high hell,
I should have never hurt you like myself
Cold and shivering, showered in gold and bangles.
I've done everything wrong, my dear
And I'm sorry,
I'm sorry
I let you
down.
I've gone over the edge, my dear
And if I've a right to regret, it's
That I never loved you til now.
---
Agatha turns as she sees Carrie coming in. "Sweetheart, you okay? You look really---" That's all she can get out before the other girl runs to the smaller guest bathroom, locking the door behind her.
"... Carrie?" Agatha knocks at the door, baffled and more than a little scared. "What's wrong? What happened?" All she gets in response is the sound of sniffling, which increases to weeping, which increases to sobbing.
Dinner comes and goes, Carrie's plate of chicken curry sitting under saran wrap in the fridge. Agatha's almost entirely sure she's heard Carrie retching in there. But she can't force the door or pick the lock.
She sits down in front of the door, starting to work on a small dragon plushie. Beside her is a bottle of vodka.
"You know, hon... there are couples out there that talk. They have fun, they laugh, and---get this---they hold each other. When one has a problem, the other comes and helps. What's stopping us from being those couples, Carrie, is this door between us... or, I guess, whatever's always been between us, and the door is just a concrete reminder of that." She sips her vodka and sighs.
I've got a little black book with my designs in
An apartment with lots of gold crap in
I want to be held and you just bring me more things
I've got elastic bands holding my heart in
Got those swollen-eye blues
Got thirteen kinds of crap you've brought me to choose from
I've got electric light
And babe, I've got insight
I've got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There'll be nobody home
I've got the obligatory gentle curves
And I've got the inevitable sweet-nothing words
All bottled up with no one to whisper them to
I've got rings to adorn my fingers
I've got a silver spoon on a chain
I've got a pile of gewgaws to prop up my mortal remains
I've got piercing blue eyes
I've got a strong urge to fly
But I've got no one to fly with
Ooooh Babe when I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home
There's just a pair of your war boots
And our flower has dying roots...
---
Carrie opens the door a crack. She sees Agatha passed out on the floor, empty vodka bottle beside her and near-finished plushie in her hands. Smiling weakly, the swollen-eyed girl notices how even drunk and conked out, Agatha is still so lovely...
Cradling her in her arms like a glass doll, she painstakingly tucks her into bed. A few minutes later, a small dragon plushie joins Agatha, and Carrie sits down at the desk to write.
Spoiler: 5. Goodbye Cruel World - Wish You Were Here - Goodbye (Reprise)Agatha dreams of waking next to a tearstained Carrie, holding her tightly, calling her an idiot and never, ever letting her go.
Agatha wakes next to a note on Carrie's pillow, her mouth tasting of vodka and an amateurishly-finished plush toy in her arms.
Sighing, she pulls the letter over and opens it. Maybe Carrie's still in the bathroom being a melodramatic idiot...
Agatha bolts out of bed, scrambling to dress as she realizes what's going on in the mind of the idiot she can't manage to stop loving."Dear Agatha,
Enclosed is an official document stating that in the case of my death, all my possession and titles will pass to you.
I hope they, and being associated with one who died fighting the forces of the Black Fox, will help you find a girlfriend for real this time, not just a girl who leaves you shivering and unheld in a pile of stolen trinkets.
This is the only way I can see to atone.
I'm so sorry."
---
Goodbye cruel world
I'm leaving you today
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye all you people
There's nothing you can say
To make me change
My mind
Goodbye.
Carrie turns slowly, knowing Kyne will be behind her. She gives a weak smile, sighing. "It's a nice morning."
The redhead stares flatly back. "What are you up to now? Another proposal? Or are you going to beg for forgiveness?"
"No," the suited girl shakes her head, "though I am going to apologize for... that. But also I want to thank you---"
"Oh, don't you start, you---"
"---for helping me realize how badly I was letting someone down and the only way I could do right by her. Which... right now, is to fight you and die."
Kyne blinks, idly twirling a knife. "Oh, and exactly why should I even give you that much?"
Carrie steps forward, shrugging. "Not for me, but... if you could do it for someone I've been hurting for far too long, maybe?" She forms the orange blades from the Blightwalker energy of her hands, smiling weakly again. "Or whatever reason works for you."
"... If you try to throw this fight, if you just let me kill you, I'm going to leave you here. Keep me engaged with a decent effort and maybe I'll be too focused to care about all the reasons I should just let you rot."
Carrie smiles a little more, nodding. "That's all I needed to hear. Thank you, Huntress."
---
Agatha has never really been cut out for battle. Oh, she's fit and she can take care of herself, but her talents have mostly been sartorial. Nevertheless, she did learn a thing or two about other uses for needles...
A big Vulpanian lunges for the running girl, black bun coming undone to let her hair stream behind her. She ducks under his axe, plunging a needle into a spot between shoulder and neck, and his arm goes numb and limp. She doesn't pay him any more attention, just running. A boy who can't be any more than 17 shakily starts to get in her way, hands gripping his spearhaft with white knuckles. "H... Halt, Selenite scum! I---"
She keeps running past him. He starts to run after her, baffled. "I said stop!"
She skids to a halt, grabbing his sleeve to stop him with her. "Selenite girl in a suit, long black hair, not carrying any weapons. Have you seen her?" She snaps at him, making the teen recoil.
"W-why should I t---"
"GIRL. SUIT. WHERE?"
Cringing, the boy numbly points; the woman lets go of his sleeve, pushes him away, and runs in the direction he pointed. "Sh-she's fightin' the Huntress, I heard! You're gonna get yourself killed!"
Aggie doesn't care. If the boy had told her the Black Fox himself had been in that direction, she wouldn't have cared. The whole Vulpanian army couldn't stop her from reaching Carrie, her melodramatic idiot of a lover.
So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell
blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
Did you think you could sell
The spoils of your war
Buy comfort for me?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a grave?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
---
Agatha finds them behind a low rise in the landscape. Flecks of blood dot the grass all around, shreds of pinstripe grey like fallen petals on the green.
The Huntress lays on her back, chest heaving, eyes closed, still gripping a knife. A few yards away... Carrie. She's cut up worse than her foe, blood all over her, but she's breathing as she lays on her side.
Aggie falls to her knees, panting and drenched in sweat, touching Carrie's hair with a shaky hand. "You... you idiot. Even when you realize how bad you messed up, you still wouldn't know love if it stabbed you in the stomach..."
Slowly, painfully, muscles burning, she hauls Carrie onto her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Reaching into Carrie's shirt, she yanks off the chain bearing two little pendants---one Selenite, one Ponerian. Then she doffs her own, throwing them at the Huntress. They land on her bare arm, and the redheaded girl jerks. She levers herself up on on elbow, looking at them.
Agatha doesn't look at her, just trudging away. "Good job, Huntress. You killed two Selenites here today, even if one of them was just a seamstress... and the other was just stupid."
Goodbye cruel war
We're leaving you today
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye all you schemers
There's nothing you can say
To make me change
My mind
Goodbye.
Spoiler: 6. Wedding Rings and Laughs
[One Year Later]
Agatha's always been a bit curvier than scrawny Carrie, not just from having a less active job. That might make it a bit of a task for her to be carried in the arms of her more thin lover, though offset by the latter being in pretty good shape from her frequent battles.
But add to that the fact that Carrie now has trouble walking without a cane, the loss of her left eye, and a general decrease in the constant activity that kept her so toned... it's a pretty heavy ordeal.
As she is carried in over the threshold of the mountain cottage, wearing the dress she designed and made herself, she can't think of a single complaint to make about Carrie's performance. And riddled with scars or not, her bride looks wonderful in a tux.
She's grateful, for Carrie's sake, that their bedroom is on the ground floor---even she's not so dewy-eyed as to believe the injured girl wouldn't have trouble on the stairs, carrying a whole person and caneless. As she's laid down on the bed, she adjusts a scarf that's been draped around her neck all morning. It's of novice quality, knitted rather clumsily, and the "WILL YOU MARRY ME" on one side is barely amateur-level. Certainly less skillful than even the hastily-fixed knits and purls on the other side that read "YES STUPID".
Carrie falls to her knees, a little shaky as she rests her head against her prone bride's shoulder. Down the length of her arm her single amber eye travels, stopping on the ring on her finger. Double shifts and overtime at her security job bought that; she couldn't give Agatha some ring she took off a foe. She'd wanted to leave all of their loot behind, in fact.
Agatha had called her devotion to starting with a clean slate admirable and noble and all that, and then reminded her that this whole "starting a new life" thing required money and savings, and that it was better to leave the spoils of war all behind with someone else who would give them money for it.
Climbing up next to the seamstress, Carrie drapes an arm around her and closes her eye.
The Selenite is on the grass
The Selenite is on the grass
Forgetting schemes for wedding rings and laughs
They cannot stray us from the path
Vulpanians are in the hall
Vulpanians are in the hall
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if their heads explode with dark forbodings too
We'll be here on the dark side of the moon
The Selenites aren't in my head
Vulpanians aren't in my head
You braved the blade, we make the change
We rearranged us to be sane
We lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head; it's you, not me
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
We'll be here on the dark side of the moon
This is a story written from an old idea FF reminded me about.