Every Mind, Every Will, and Every Vessel to Break (Half-Knit)

CW:

Contemplation/scheming of a murder of a part of one's self. Grim view of rotting corpses. Taunting by an abuser. Threads that sew into some cuties to tie their souls and soles together. Um... cleaning up of a corpse and mental roughness!

If I didn't feel like a hollowed out tree filled with naught of the fires of my own delusions laid there... I might need to try to avoid falling all to pieces at Xafra's question.

[I'd ask why. But I know why. And you know I know. So let's just... stop pretending. Alright? Skip right past to the end. Before we get to where we're going and it might be too late.] A twin babbles. Her intonements so... quiet and muffled and feeling far away and smothered by the screams that drown my thoughts.

Can they consent? Really? That's her question?

[Can... I know you can hear me. But I need you to answer me. Please.]

Always the same. Always always always and it would be endearing if it were nearly anyone else. But it's not. It's-

[Lynette?]

"Wait for just the right moment. Just the perfect sway. Like a dance." An old memory isn't whispering quietly. "Let them think they've bested you. Unraveled your schemes and filtered your dreams and have you on a leash. That's when you–"

[Sister?]

"Well..." The well-rooted nightmare that leads us through the tunnels that reek of corpses muses aloud. "More than you ever could. So that seems enough to me. Penance is useless if not paid, after all."

"That's..." Xafra shakes her head. "Nope. No penitents. They serve their sentence with you, I don't want them in my mind."

"We're not tying thoughts together. Just your souls to my Threads. Which... We can make that work. Even though most of me is tangled up inside most of them." The horror that strangled a young budding Divine giggles then, turns to walks backways while explaining. That... sad slave's body she wore melted away to start showing what she always looked like to the corpses kept down here. Teeth and shadows and endless threads spun like a birb's nest. Ready to catch all that wander past. "That's the cost. They wanted to hold my twin's leash, so they get that. Forever and always. And after they fall to pieces I stuck them in a Doll body to make sure they'd not lose their grip on me. Also the irony is sweet to taste when each one realizes it. Would be sad that I don't get to see my current Blossoms go through it. But... this is better. In every way."

After smothering the cackling of an old cunt's cruel perspectives on all of that. Another voice hisses and growls from within me. But I ignore her and the memories she bleeds. Wordless peopleless experiences of a blind creature's life amidst the Ashes a Fire that burns forever laid for His children.

Focus on each step and don't look around. Try to seal more of my overmuch sight from taking in the parts of this place and these people that walk over and through it.

Can see too much. Walking behind two Divines fully themselves. It's like... being led by a swell from the ocean chasing a storm which is following the dying of the last day's light. Also there are screaming corpses everywhere.

Elevar glances back then, gives me a... pointed look. Shouts something along the bond. Trying to get at least a part of my attention.

I don't favor her with even a look. Why would I? What would she even do with it? She's already agreed to this and that and all the most important parts. My answer won't change her mind. Or my actions to come.

So why pretend to be anything other than sullen and defeated in my schemes?

"And the fact that your blossoms get the same treatment as those original traitors make me doubt your... Impartiality. I am offering up more than I ever wanted simply letting others agree to this joining with you and I. Perhaps Divinity itself is a mistake better to be collared and leashed than allowed to roam freely." Xafra answers bitterly.

Sekrhús' many eyes and other perceptive parts blink in collective amusement to Xafra's words. Words curl like foul stench from her lips. Like vaporous poison from a disturbed toxic plant. "That's exactly what my first Penitent said! Once upon a weeping and furious wobbling Moon's night. Thought she had Sín's Blessings in making me and setting this new cruel weave to my task of binding one. But... It's so fascinating how opposite it really is. Divinity is like venom. Needs to be used or bled. Diluted. Endured in small doses. That's why you needed to scream pain unending the other day. Got too full and needed to release the buildup."

Augusta replies dryly to the cruel words, obviously wanting to end these talks before Xafra finds herself doing something else so incredibly… stupid. "Fascinating as this all is, I do have things to do, apocalypses to oversee and all that. Can we get a move on with the eternal torment?"

"Yes yes. Alright. But only because I get forever to enjoy this." The monster chuckles, turns, then... We're at the foot of the central corpse pile.

Or. Well. To them and us now it seems a room at the end of a long tunnel. A pathway to the bottom and middle.

And apparently where her oldest and most central Threads are. The Beast Below's most vulnerable bits. The places one would need to strike at if they were to attempt to end the nightmare that is her and it and this place and all the suffering yet to be cultivated.

"And no Dolls this time." Sekrhús chirps happily, swirling forward and into the place. Lays across a long blanket of... huh. Same radiance as Xafra's. Must be the hair woven cloak she gifted her.

Laid atop the slab where the first corpse once was. Now home to only the dust her bones left.

And torn Threads above. The parts that once entwined about the twin she was made to strangle. Now dangling and sputtering and so very... vulnerable.

Also dangerous. Cracked and Riven Moon. I can't believe our sister agreed to let those touch any part of her.

Wish so very much they'd taken the other offers and not... not Xafra's foolishly brilliant scheme. Something that could actually rot this horrid place and creature into something better.

Sekrhús purrs while taking in the room we enter. Focus split between the threads and the Divine's that mean to tie themselves to her. "So. Bindings first. Then I'll pay for the event. Sound agreeable?"

Still even have this handy chunk of Lunargent. Would be so easy to take a strike at this creature. Twist one of our Einwandfrei into something much stronger than before and see just how much damage I could do.

Wouldn't work. Of course. Probably wouldn't even annoy it. But would leave Xafra more than a little disappointed, but honestly… Would I be anything other than the Blossom Lynette that never was if I didn't strive to disappoint everyone that loves me?

A corpse that I'm anchored it growls at that thought.

Xafra takes a seat on the ground beside the blanket and speaks. "Did you know that back under the Third Conclave they had very specific laws about prisoners? Nowadays the Groves each make their own specific rules, from my understanding, but back then it was unified. Back then, it was not seen as a crime or sin to attempt to escape lawful confinement. Instead it was seen as a base human instinct to seek freedom, and was not punished aside from resumption of imprisonment. Just a thought I feel it important to share with all those present."

Not a surprising thing for her to consider a good mark of an culture long fallen to mulch. But... Flawed.

And I can use that.

The horrid spawn of a Witch's pride giggles while settling down beside Xafra. Those Threads starting to spin and sputter and thrash down toward them.

Golden and woven with iridescent Will made Real. Cracks in the Dreams that are to make way for the nightmares wished for.

[That's... Xafra. Is this really the time for–]

"Only one Thread for each vessel involved." I state aloud, cutting her off. Spinning up a rough schema made of Miasma pretending to be Physis. Mirroring what my eyes allow me to understand of this. "Leaves extra for later use, and avoids either of you getting strangled. Each contains a multitude of smaller pieces that can be entwined with Geists or Dolls agreeing to being involved in the Weave."

Augusta sits on the other side of the beast, "Alright. Let's get this woven."

Watch as the Threads slither and wind around her chosen niece. Offer advice and guidance as my twin kneels and talks over the nature of the thing they mean to make. Even ask a few pointed questions and ideas to make this nonsense safer.

But most importantly, I make sure it's tilted to ensure Xafra isn't the fulcrum of this. That the first here to find herself strangled and broken and drowning by the shared Strife, Guilt, and Agony won't be the youngest of these three. Expect some arguments but...

"It's only logical, as there will be no more Blossoms because you are both taking that place." Elevar presses before any objections can be made. "The one with the most experience with her Ontological weight should be the one to handle the brunt of this. This weave will give Sekrhús access to the Driftdream and Labyrinth. While you both will have the ability to influence the Estate. Not all at once. But over time. It will be a tugging match. But one of knowledge. You both will have to learn to translate what you feel and find into things you can shift."

"That's fine with me. I'm going to brace for turbulence. Ready when y'all are." Xafra says quietly as she curls forward in on herself.

"Good luck. Stay safe. And... Mind the corpses. Don't follow errant lights or familiar voices but Elevar's. If a hand finds yours don't let go though, it's probably another you falling behind and needs help moving forward." I offer gently. The same advise I gave to Nadine when I thought she might Tumble through these same Threads.

The same advice I'm not sure I'd follow now.

Rise and step back as the cracks in the world slither out and around Sekrhús' wrists and around limbs that look like hands. Fingers entwine through her two claimed aunts.

Augusta is the first to scream, a brief strangled thing that swiftly turns into a cackling howl. Xafra in contrast moans in pain and starts to hyperventilate.

Krahe and Infection are already spinning up melodies of comfort and stability. Elevar nearly panics. But knows not to let the wash of that ruin what she can be to those she loves. Takes up the spare hands and lets them squeeze as tight as they need. Offers soft words of comfort and encouragement as the Weave takes root and begins to bind them together.

Cracked and Riven Moon. It's in moments like this I wish any part of me was something like the woman she made herself into instead of... well...

Rise, step foreword, and get to work.

What she and the Estate saw her worse self as. What the Sun-Blessed corpse below thought she needed to be to protect her stolen child and little Sikkina.

Quicker than my twin or her Pack can realize, I lash out with precise cuts of Miasma shaping itself as Nomos with a spot of memory to make the changes stick. Only a little of the Matriarch's Tone needed. And none of that spoken. Just... laced into the Threads as they knit into the Divine.

"Wh... What did you just...?"

"They're going to feel like you did the morning after your first reweaving session. Like Xafra was when the first Garrote was gone. Will fall right on their faces if you don't keep them sitting for a bit." I offer instead, kneel to give both these fool Divines a kiss on their foreheads, then turn to leave.

Still have that spiteful promise to keep before these Pits change more than this Frame can navigate.

Krahe and Infection, Moon and Madthing and Dirt bless them, move to stop me. But their songs and focus need to be on their Xafra. So a soft, yet firm, "Tend to your Pack Sister." in a Matriarch's Tone does the trick. And songs of <Negation> to nullify that could risk hurting Xafra.

So out I go with the sounds of my twin shouting behind as she realizes what I mean to do now that everyone is occupied.

But... Moonshite. Can't use my Blitzköder down here. Was how the beast caught me before. Else I'd have zipped down, done the deed, and mayhaps even zipped back out before anyone was wise to it but her.

No. This place is like a Fold between the Roots twisted like a rope and turned inside out. To try that would end up with this Frame... well, I'm not sure. I never found the few small bits I sent off.

So, on foot it is. Stalking the halls like some... grakler lost in a Matron's basement with the only lead the whimpering memories of the corpse I hunt. Quick as I can but not overmuch. Else I'd take a wrong turn and end up needing to backtrack.

Takes... so much longer than I'd like. Know the Weave between the three isn't done, and have a good idea of when it will be, but needing to avoid taking too long. Else my commands wear off and a Pack Sister realises it's safe to give chase. Or another gets called and manages to actually find me down here.

Both less than high chances. But... little miracles do abound these days. And tragedy is what I seek at the moment as I dredge through these halls of bitter rotting corpses and blighted half-alive things.

Thankfully all recoil at my passing. Terrified of the surrogate Blossom who rose to serve the one that eats them.

But to my surprise I do hear another speaking. Adaline's voice rings out from around a corner. "So what kind of mess do you think the girls are up to this time? Like, aside from the whole stringing their Wairua together."

Ah. Cracked and Riven Moon. It was her wife she called and not our first Doll. Partially grateful for that. Verbess would track better and listen to me less, while Schatzi would break my resolve in trying to explain this. But also is more like to help if I got the words right. Thus threatening more painful Division this Pack would rather not endure.

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"Honestly?" Come the voice of... Prevoriis?

The whimpering within me stills. Chortles... oddly. Still afraid and suffering but also tugged from the muddle she's been drowning in to be surprised by that. I think.

"First guess is they're deeper in the mulching pile than we are. Wouldn't be back here myself if..." A loud... crunch, follows. And it seems to echo louder than it should. Carries of waft of smell and... Wait. Did... did they just end a corpse? Fully? That's... fascinating. Death is starting to hold sway down here it seems. "I'd had options. But helping these little sisters find the end they've been denied ain't so bad. Like pissing all over a bad dream you couldn't wake up from. "

Hesitate and squeeze the Lunargent tighter as I consider the options.

Can't outrun Adaline and track reliably. Could physically and magically restrain her. Could take too much time though. Even if I'm assuming Prevoriis will be an easy one to deal with after. But also... No. no Tone for her. Sneak past? No. Passages are too thin and twisty. Could try waiting. Hoping they move past and around. Or…

"Probably. Elevar is worried about Lynette though. Should see what we can do to assist her before we collect our wayward goddesses."

Hope for a heartbeat that bodes well for me. That whatever Elevar was able to get across over the bond was muffled and confusing.

That she'll just... go. Find her wife. Only realize things after I've finished my work.

But it's only then that I realize my mistake. That while I am probably like an oddly shaped shadow pressing against a wall. Difficult to spot even with her enhanced multitude of eyes. This Frame is still unable to stop some sort of... odd refractions or echoes of the Sun-Scorched bitch I hunt from bubbling out when those I love are nearby.

And it's not till I remember at the last second to adjust my sight to start trying to look for the odd little wretched things, that one has slithered up to the corner of the path and poked it's head around.

Lets out a few happy snorts and chirps of greeting to what it smells.

And while I could try and work around that. Stay hidden or such. Look an embarassed fool. I decide instead to go with an option that at least makes me feel a little less that.

Strut forward like I planned this entire encounter and step into the hallway. Glance over to find the two hesitating between steps at the sight of me. Nod head back the way I came. "That way will take you to your wife, Xafra, and the central mess."

Then just... continue on. Confident as a birb on a stroll across a sleeping grakler's back.

"Sure. Think I'm going to come help you first. though. With whatever nonsense you're getting up to now." Adaline says with a smile.

Don't look back. Don't show worry. Don't let whatever little apparently 'cute' wiggly thing that slithers along beside her distract me.

"Would rather handle this alone, if I'm being honest." I reply, finding the trail and continuing my hunt. "Only have so much time to get this done. A small season of opportunity before everything changes."

After that she'll fall into Xafra's protections. And me... I'm not sure what state I'll be in. If I'll even still be around once certain Threads are cut.

Hear them both move to follow as I set a brisk pase. Even the strange Prevoriis trails behind Adaline.

"Someone's gotta pick you up and carry you home when you're done. You don't need to say anything. I'm not going to stop you, simply clean up after the mess of one of my loves again." Adaline says softly.

I pause, glance back. Debate not getting into the weeds of this but... No. Sweet gerl deserves to understand why I won't let her do this. No more lies or half truths. She, of all of them, has earned that from me.

"Witch Adaline Nāvahīna. There won't... be anything left to carry. Not even ashes or glimmerslush. That's the point. Xafra bargained for me, yes. But this Frame isn't mine. It's the prisoner of the Estate. And I mean for it to end here too. What's left of me will be the threads that should survive inside your wife. A gerl that will need your help walking after the Beast unravels our bindings to it. A gerl who is worth your affections. Not..."

Know I'm saying to much. But I can't stop the words. The truth. No more than I can hold back the little wretched things that slither up to snuggle and weep pathetic whimpering noises while curling around Adaline's ankles. Nuzzling her with wordless cries I refuse to indulge.

"...This. This thing. This role. This disgusting compromise. A refracted mimic of the dead self Elevar hated more than the old cunt. If I'm to face my Thirdbrewn's hatching and our Firstbrewn's first Name day it will be as... Not... Not as this. This echo of the Beast's past. A Garrote woven to strangle the twin she loves. And the disgusting Denizen that used our Beloved Father's gifted magic to make us into this is going to end today. And we don't want you to see or smell or witness a second more the thing we are now. Please. We... We don't want you to see how we have rotted. How much it broke and ruined us. Please... Pack Sister to a Divine. Doll who silences despair with words. Keeper of iron and bound beloved to our twin. Please. Leave these corpses to end so something better can sprout in better soil."

Adaline shakes her head. "No. If you are going to do this, fine. But I will bear witness. Someone has to. Ashes of my Bones, Xafra gave you the opening to pull something like this. Even made it clear that she wouldn't blame you. But I'm a stubborn bitch and I wouldn't be able to continue if I left you to be alone at the end."

Seethe at that. At how weak and pathetic we feel. How we couldn't help but beg and mewl instead of snapping up a weave to stick her to a wall like some unruly snek.

Wish we had the time or resolve to do that now.

Wish we had more words for her. But none remain. So I turn and continue on without. Trying to ignore the two that follow behind.

Am actually at least a touch relieved to find the place I seek just around the next few corners. Might explain why we fell all to pieces.

But only a touch. It's a grim sight, especially with this Frame's acute senses.

A pile of corpses. Of all shapes and sizes. But mostly human. With the Sun-Scorched laid overtop. And... so many threads. An endless cacophony that scream as they are sewn through not just the rotting stinking corpse of Girra's lost daughter, but also the entire mulched set. Even allowing some strange ashen plants to take root and sprout from the mess.

Memories I really would rather not have scream as I stand here now. Of the rushed work that was done to ensure we were ready in time to bind ourselves through Elevar.

Needed that. Apparently. To help translate and frame the thoughts of the broken thing that was, into the refracted twin that we became.

Drift closer, trying to... to take it all in. Squeezing the stolen Lunargent ever tighter. Attempting to ignore the little ashen creatures that bubble up around and out of this Frame's endless reserves of Miasma.

Expected to simply toss an altered Weave to destroy the entire mess, this Frame, and every corpse within a fourth of a Grovespan. But... Can't. Not with Adaline and Augusta's odd new Revenant here.

Need precision. Just like Elevar did when she killed the old Cunt.

So I trudge forward and begin to climb to the top of the pile. Stopping to squat just before the broken dead central corpse

Memories are so... so loud. Feel nearly drowned by them. Suffocated in the misery that is all she knows.

Reach out and place a hand on her soft head.

Start to nudge this Frame to absorb as many readings as it can for her and this pile. Physical and otherwise. Make sure this Weave will be as precise as possible.

And... am forced to watch as the little ashen manifestations slither and crawl up through the ashen garden my Frame likes to melt into. After only a few snorts and huffs, deciding to settle themselves around and atop to nuzzle her. Whimpering the soft sounds of creatures close to dying kin they can offer so little to.

Don't hesitate. No. Of course not. I just have to be certain the spell is perfect. Even though I can feel the that Xafra and Augusta and Sekrhús are pulling from their work. Probably groggy from the euphoria brought by a lack of wretched pain and the sudden sense of weightlessness. My work to force that Weave to also lessen the bite of their Names being noticed in pointed ways.

All part of my selfish scheme to trip them up if this takes too long. Make sure the madness that comes with Divinity tilts into softer shapes for them so my daughters will live in a better world.

Even now. This hesitation. It's in hopes Adaline will rethink her choices and leave. Not because the screaming old memories are starting to break my resolve.

Absolutely also has nothing to do with the fact that I...

This will free her. My... Our daughter. And this mewling corpse knows that. Knows that my burning all of her and this away will release that silly bumbling sweet Doll from so much suffering.

But Xafra's words cut through me, and leave a question rotting at the center of my thoughts.

What if she remembers, and misses, this part of us? What if her first words upon speaking to that part that survives... is a question.

Where is her mother?

What if she knows just how false I am?

I'm not hesitating because that thought terrifies me. Not double checking the spell and my Frame's reports on this corpse piles exact parameters due to a single infectious fear.

"There's no rush, you know? Xafra's made it clear that she will help those that wish an end reach it." Adaline mentions offhandedly as she leans against a wall.

Dig nails into the soft flesh of this pathetic weak thing's flat ugly head. In anger and frustration and also because it was... the...

Oh. Of course. It was the one thing about humans she liked. How they could sometimes be lured into gifting her a good scrunch that digs out the ashen gunk that tends to get lodged in the bristles of the fur there.

"The longer I take, the more of this leaks and stains me. The more that will remain after." I growl at the memory. But don't stop the motion. Might as well, after all. She'll be dead soon. "Or the Beast might decide to step in and give Xafra her due amidst my doddling. Which would be... endlessly frustrating. Getting this far and not having the Will remaining to end things in a timely fashion. To commit to my choices. To be the vicious bitch who steals motherhood from others."

"Been a long while since I hated myself as much as you do now, so I can't say I fully understand but... I get it. Do what you feel you must." Adaline muses.

"Brew a child with Elevar and you'll taste the edges of it." I offer softly, adjusting to sit more comfortably. "Otherwise you becoming one of our little one's favorite aunts will also gift you some echo when they get hurt. She... We failed to protect our little one. Are the reason she's tasted nothing but misery and abuse for decades." Glance back to Adaline, then voice the odd question we find bubbling inside. "Do you ever miss the flesh that was burned away? Wish you could have kept her? Walked the long Root Way's path with the person you felt die upon your instillation?"

She nods. "I feel incredibly jealous of Presephona for that. She lost very little and gained everything she wanted. I... He was a sad lonely man. Pathetic in a lot of ways. But I do miss him, knowing I'm not more than an echo of who he wished he could be."

Shake my head. "No. Not an echo. Especially when you consider how much she was blossoming with Elevar. It's... a shout. Or like one painter passing a half-drawn idea to another. I'm not Lynette. Not even for the reasons Xafra spotted at the start. But because that gerl was gone by the time I was being shaped. There wasn't a perfect copy of her inside Elevar. Simply... loud memories and ideas and more than a lot of unkind perceptions. And your start was all the brightest shapes a gerl was etching into this future. Like the plants that grow from corpses. You're not an echo. You're... new. But with some of the former gerl's flavors and tastes inherited. The person you sprouted from would probably idolize everything about you. Even knowing how bad things got. Especially then. I think."

"Sure. But you're the you I've grown to care about. The version of you that Xafra loves. The Lynette that your little snek doll depends on. What will be left when you're done isn't the same person, and we will mourn you."

Look back to the weird ashen creature I still scratch and scrunch the flat dead but nearly happily purring head of.

But certainly what would sprout would be better? Isn't that what it means to be half-knit? Cutting away the old rotten bits that were the source of the mistakes as one would tend to an infected limb?

Or... Or is this exactly what would ruin me? Leave what's left hobbled and unable to tend to her family?

Think on that for a long few heartbeats, then make a choice. Or at least the first steps of one.

"Thank you, Adaline. For everything. Send the new bonded trio my way when their feet can carry them. Augusta will know the spot."

Then Weave with a crack of Will and Miasma shaping itself into the Ousia for the spell.

"Wurzelriss." I cast, and twist to take all of myself away. Depositing all of this... absolute mess into the same Chamber where I last snared the Goddess of Death with the help of our oldest friend. Then crack it open to dump us into the Workshop proper.

So. First steps first. Pull the heart of the corpse pile into our lap, cracking this Frame to have more than enough arms for the task, and get to the work of cutting away the excess bits she's rooted into but aren't actually a part of either of us.

Then... Well, cleaning. But not too much pruning away of the things that's sprouted from the decaying flesh. Just the dirt and pus and muck.

Like Schatzi did for me. When she first saw me twisted from Elevar. But slower. More... trying to separate the anatomy of her from the grime.

Such an odd thing. Almost an amalgam of crab and worm and... mole? Not sure. Forever Fire did always love to spark the inspirations into the flesh. Or dip us in the Sleepy but sweet Dirt's special mud. Draw out new shapes and dredge up new species from old.

Not sure how long I sit here. Frame split into about a dozen refractions that all try to clean up and tend to this Sun-Scorched corpse.

Eventually, Augusta, Xafra, and Sekrhús all step together out of the body using Augusta's dreadfully fascinating technique.

"You're braver than me, Lynette." Death murmurs.

A few fractals of the set I have tending to the work glance upwards to quirk heads in curiosity. "Oh? In what way?"

She gestures at my work. "Couldn't do that myself. Too much like looking backwards. Would hurt more than I'm willing to accept."

Focus again on the corpse. And the memories that still scream and howl endlessly. The recollections and experiences I've cleaned and sorted while tending to the flesh and form.

Organized and tried to salvage the mess. It's not perfect, and most are like... a piece of shattered and tossed about pottery. All sharp edges and prickly nonsense that only sometimes fits together. She was a sweet creature for the most part. As much as any weird crab Sun-Blessed. But had her flaws and bad temperaments like anyone else.

"Ah, well. It was either going to be myself, no one, or Xafra. And one of those three has gotten quite good at trying to clean up such messes from her work in the Threaded Archives." I shrug and lean back. Letting the Frame shift back into a singular form that holds the corpse on her lap. Look between the two Divine and the little monster they've lashed themselves to. Letting my sight absorb all the changes and shifted parts. Both that they intended and expected, but especially the bits they didn't. Trace eyes over the fascinating way the weave dips inward and through the Driftdream and then loops through the wretched monster to knit under Death's toes to start knitting into the Labyrinth's foundations. "Speaking of which... I take it things have settled into place? All loose strands tucked neatly away? No fraying edges?"

"The weave is good, I'm still fraying but... Surprisingly less than I was before." Xafra offers.

"I'm glad to hear it. Should make things more stable when you shift Strife into something gentler, and tug at the possessive aspect in the other Name. Both will still hurt like a toe bit by a grumpy frong at winter's end. But... not overmuch so. Nothing like what you two just went through." I nod, letting out a sigh of relief that nothing twisted wrongways. Then moving to rise. Holding the big lumpy Sun-Scorched corpse close to my chest, my arms wrapped under her middle set of legs so the long tail thing won't drag too much. "But... it seams it's my season for a bit of agony and mentally debilitating pain. Yes?"

"If you wish? My offer was genuine. She can be brought into the Driftdream and you can slowly access parts of her when you want to."

"Oh, that's definitely something I mean to take advantage of. But your method would involve... cutting her tangle of threads from mine. Then offering the chance to knit them together later. She... I'd rather not risk her tearing or breaking more than she already has. No. I'd rather her threads pass through me and be settled... probably at the edges of Krahe's section of your Driftdream? Your Sister's budding memories of can be a loom for them to work together at. And with her still anchored to me, she'll be able to interact with our daughters as she heals." I explain. "It's not perfect. But I think it's the best way."

"Sounds like a nightmare of a time. How can we help?" Augusta asks.

"Don't let any of her slip through your fingers after I'm finished." The Beast Roused and Tethered purrs. Her settled form cracking and splitting as she steps closer to me. "Everything you can do will come after my pruning is finished."

Turn my full regard on her. Fighting down the spite of fear at the sharp edges that I spot between the shapes she bears. "This Frame. I advise you gift it to them, as your new and last Blossoms. It doesn't know how to be anything but a vessel."

And the idea of having to rebuild something like this from nothing is... well it will take at least a forever to achieve without the tools and supplies I pilfered from the Estate. Much less the clumsy Miasma I refined.

She hesitates. Then nods. "Done. They can shove you back in there if they want."

Glance to Xafra and Augusta. "Make sure no one does something stupid before I'm awake again? Otherwise... One of you needs to go find Elevar. This will unbind her from the Estate and it's going to be... horrid. For her. As for me? Distractions will be nice after you catch the threads this bitch is going to hand you. There are memories in my twin that'll be unbound once I'm on the other side."

"Adaline and Verbess are with Elevar now, and Augusta will head back there in a moment." Xafra says with a leading look at her sister.

"Yeah. Sounds like another joy." Augusta answers with faint amusement.

[Elevar. we're about to start unbinding. Not sure when this will strike your end but you might wish to brace.] I offer to my twin.

[Okay. I... You'll fall into my body fully afterwards, yes?]

[Of course. Unless Xafra stuffs my threads elseways.]

[Good. I'll be here. Always.]

"Good. Perfect. Excellent, even." I huff and turn my glare back to Sekrhús. "Alright. Let's sta–"

Darkness.

Right. No hesitation. Cunt's an ambush predator to the last. And... First step is to unbind me from the Frame.

Then... well, it's like a shift. Being pulled taught. Spine's bits stretched to their limits. Not that I have those. But that's the best analogy I have for the sensation.

Then will be the separation. Won't hurt me like it will Elevar. But won't... be... comfortable. Either...?

Oh no. That hurts more than it should. Moonshite. Forgot how entwined I am with both Elevar and the dead Sun-Scorched. Too tangled.

Feels worse than almost all other memories. If nothing else because there is nothing salacious to endure here. Just... letting a wretched monster cut us apart and spit us out.

At least next thing I know it's nothing but unfairly sweet sorts holding us close.

One body held between her wife and Doll as she babbles spitting curses in more languages than she rightfully knows.

The other in the arms of a Divine as she explains... something. To me? Us? Get to see the glowing nonsense threads gripped in one hand while the nightmare's end steps away from us. Realize... those are me. And Xafra is working to rebind me into the Frame. I think. Not sure. Everything inside me is still screaming.

But also very quiet.

Why is that...? Oh. Right. The Estate is always so loud to those tied to it

"You know, this is a lot more gerl than I expected, but that tracks. She's always been impressive." Xafra jokes to Sekrhús.

"Just hope you can handle all of her, she's going to be quite a mouthful." The nightmare ended chortles. "What with all other distractions but you and any spirits she might obsess over being all she has."

No Threaded Archives, no endless projects to keep this place dormant and appeased, no... no Garrotes twisting about my throat and... Oh.

Still can't speak yet. Not with lips. Xafra doesn't understand this Frame well enough and I'm not together and able to help.

Reach for the bond. Find it... still a mess. But workable. Pass Xafra some instructions on what bits to weave where. Mark which Threads are to be shoves through me and toward her Driftdream. Some ideas of how to untangle what can be tended to now.

But mostly... Distractions. Can't think about the things the Garrote's kept sealed and cut away. Especially without all the filters and nets I'd laid to keep an old cunt's vicious memories well enough quiet.

Finally am able to speak something to Xafra. But it's... gibberish? Moonshite. Frame handled translation work.

[Sinking dirt isn't safe for those without the webbed toes to ignore it. And the warm ashes are fastly cooling.] I intone instead. Trying to communicate to her, and then sigh. As I realize even the bond is a mess on my end.

Still to bound to the Sun-Scorched. And Elevar's mind is still drowned in her own recovery. Can't find the... the Cracked and Riven words. Am forced to wait with my thoughts that are going to point elseways. NOT think about... about...

About all the new little cruel memories bubbling up. Ones always cut away by the Garrote. Experiences I do not recognize but know the Lynette that was did not survive.

"My darling niece, would you walk with me in dreams? I need the Geists to support my dear one through this turbulence and it seems only right that you get to meet them as well." Xafra ask Sekrhús, seeming to pick up part of my meaning.

"Yes." She replies, eyes sparking in excitement.

And then... well I expected it to feel like a gentle falling along the bond. Like always. But of course not.

Of course it feels opposite in all the worse ways.

The Sun-Scorched is... basically acting as I've read some big gangling sneks in the deepest jungles might do. No longer held carefully like I was trying to do. But... well. Constricting me. Each claw not just gripping but buried deep in flesh and clutching bone. Even seems to have burrowed through me like she might have ash.

Or a corpse she was eating.

"Ashes made more of Moonshite's cracked poison than scorched forest." I hiss as I lean heavily into whomever is helping me stand. Xafra, yes, but there is more than her here trying to hold us upright. Trying to get some idea of how to handle this.

Glad for the distraction, though. Would rather this than regard the memories of my twin and her wife's last days.

"Agreed." I hear the Beast allowed into the softest place giggle from far away. Voice... oddly less nightmarish than normal. Still horrid. But... contained? Forced into a shade of itself that has less edges. "But I like it. The agony suits you!"

Nearly spit venom at the old disgusting nightmare. But... no. Need to focus.

Need... Wait. There is a Geist that knows well and intimatly what it is to strain against a flood of a living memories you can barely fathom but need to treat gently.

[Sometimes the Fire above needs to sleep, so He leaves little hungry niblings behind to burn the forest above so we get to swim through Warm Ashes.] I intone to Nadine, hoping she'll understand.

"I think she needs help digesting the input, spread it out more and reduce it to smaller pieces?" Nadine asks, looking closely at me for a response.

Wobble a free hand in a 'mayhaps' gesture, then reach up and lay a hand over her face. [Cold Marrow Warmed Again.] We weave.

Releasing her from her Bloodprice Oath in regards to our private talks the other day. Hoping memories returned will help at least a little more of all this make sense.

[Sister's Burrow is warm and rich with bones.] I huff while pulling back. Trying to keep the needs simple. Easier to convey.

Need to get into Krahe's part of things here in the Driftdream. Away from Sekrhús. Get help pulling this clingy Sun-Blessed off and through me to lay roots here. Then... then deal with organizing myself later.

Nadine blinks and then laughs "Blistering Ashes. Yes. Xafra, bring her over to Krahe's region. She needs space from your niece and to plant her otherself. I've got my memories back and can understand her more."

Nod and let out a sigh of relief. Make sure to nudge the self that won't let go to reach out with an overlong limb to grab her by the collar. Drag Nadine along while Xafra moves us in that direction.

Elevar finds us half-way there, alongside the Pack Sister who will need to host us for a while. Helps lift some of the weight off me. Lifts the tail and lower half of the Sun-Scorched.

Krahe's slice of the Driftdream is... fractured. Much like she still is. But stable. Well rooted. And impossible to understand for more than a few heartbeats of watching any one place.

Perfect for a gaggle trying to carefully pull the rotted claws out of my threads.

Hopefully a good place to help reassemble some of her shattered memories into coherent things while pointedly ignoring the bubbling mess of new recollections I've just inherited.

Or... well. Mayhaps I can find the softer bits about Elevar and Adaline's best memories together to focus on instead.

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