It's a dangerous useful. Like walking a tightrope, or ...well, grabbing a bomb. You walk the edge of corruption just enough that you're more. More everything. In a way, it's like Shimmer. You let it leak in just enough to turn yourself into a weapon, and then you turn it back on the bullshit that's fuckin' with you, only you gotta keep a tight lid on it, and know your limits, and still have enough you left to get your ass somewhere that can get it out of you.
Or have a system in place that'll take you out no questions asked if you're not yourself anymore. I'm thinking of making a better system for that than what I've got.
[vileblood: the bane of getting drunk.]
I know a gal that can make duplicates of herself when she fights, they're illusions, but you're saying what you've got is you being able to split ...you? [a vague idea of the concept, but not the variation in sharons.]
I'm all for dangerous useful but... corruption seems more dangerous than useful. [ she's seen what can happen when corruption turns into beasthood and how beasts destroy. too often, they're put down. and rarely are they ever recognizable. ] It'd be shit if you lost yourself to it.
[ sharon means that. she doesn't want to see vi lose herself. she doesn't think jinx would handle it well and it would certainly break sansa's heart. ]
Yeah, I can split me. My soul. But... it's not something I think I'll ever do again. The pain it requires... The pain it causes... [ she swallows back a lump in her throat, eyes down on the empty glass in her hand. she'll never be able to forget that pain. and she'd done it twice. ] You don't ever forget. You feel it forever. Like a scar.
But that's why I exist the way I am. I'm Sharon Da Silva because I created Sharon Da Silva. I'm... [ she laughs bitterly here and refills both their glasses again, a little sloppier this time around, splashing some on the table. ] I'm my own mother.
I was one person. And then I was two people. And then I was three people. And now I'm one again. A royally fucked up whole with all the memories and experiences of my other pieces.
[it's enough to hold her attention past surface level, even in this state - it's enough to get her to think. no, not good thoughts, but things that are well outside of what she's been doing, what's been done to her and hers, or even what's happening with her sister.
that circles around the edges of it - the idea of a fragmented self, but this is - a lot more than that. it's beyond voices, beyond even hallucinations, perhaps. you feel it forever, like a scar.
she knows a little about that, but the gravitas is enough to make her reconsider the depth of that knowledge. push comes to shove? she'd bet sharon might just know more. and that's ...terrible, honestly.
a shudder runs through her at this - and as it goes it takes some of the sick in her eyes with it.]
I...
[her mind can't wrap around i'm my own mother as much as she wants (maybe doesn't) it to, and that's evident by her expression - but the last part she has no trouble understanding. her own trauma is enough - the idea of that in triplicate? that's just too much.]
Shit, Sharon. I don't know whether to pour you another right here, or switch you to over to water.
[ she snorts under her breath, the ghost of that previous bitter laugh. suddenly, she feels selfish for having told vi, knowing the other woman is dealing with a lot at the moment; still reeling from the tower, from corruption, from the death on her hands no matter how important it was to commit. ]
Don't worry, last glass for me. [ she lifts it up to her lips and sips it this time around, no longer trying to down it like a dying man, and tries to smile but it's strained and wrong. painted on. a smile that doesn't reach the eyes. ]
...I probably shouldn't have dropped that shit on you right now.
...I got into a contest with Johnny and a coupla other guys, and let's just say I was the last one standing. Well, until I tried to keep up with D. Huge mistake.
So I can get there, but it takes a lot. Forty shots, give or take a few.
[she just ends up reconsidering her motives half the time - vileblood: it gives her a lot of time to do so. not a bad thing, she's just really got to commit to getting smashed.]
It sucks that you had to get pushed that far. [it doesn't sound like a thing she'd just done for the hell of it. splitting a soul. fragmenting a self? she thinks of her sister again and sighs softly.]
Don't get into a drinking contest with Vi or D. Noted. [ she goes with a combo of easy-going and amused. forty fucking shots. she finishes her last shot with a wrinkle of her nose. ]
Yeah, it does. [ she agrees with a nod, her amusement fading like chalk drawings in the rain. ] Nothing quite like being burned alive to push you over the edge.
[why is she surprised when she hears this? her eyes whirl with recently spent colormurk as if they can't decide to shed it or keep it - but it just bleeds back into the grey blue and muddies them a little before it fades.]
I don't even know how to follow that. What the fuck, is probably a solid choice, but it doesn't feel like enough.
[she knows what she'd do if this were powder, or jinx, or so many other people - but sharon's a prickly one sometimes - she's good at keeping people at a distance - and vi gets it, but she sighs and tries anyway. not a hug, but a reach for a hand if she can, just that and no words. pure disgust, horror on her face before the wince comes.]
[ She tenses when Vi reaches out across the table towards her but allows the older woman to take her hand, easing some when they touch. She gives Vi's hand a squeeze as if she were offering the other woman comfort rather than taking it herself. Already, she's regretting letting herself drink so much and talk. She's kept most of her past wrapped up tight because she knows how it sounds; knows how awful it is. She's used to it, other people aren't. ]
Nah, what the fuck works pretty well. I'd also have taken goddamn and no fucking way. [ She gives Vi a grin but it's tight-lipped. Another attempt to offer the other woman some hint of comfort or ease in the face of something so heavy. ] I look pretty good for a burn victim, huh? [ A humorless attempt at a joke.
Listen. She hates feeling this vulnerable, okay. ]
[why does talking always come with regret? more often than not this seems to be a thing, a theme, and here it is happening even if it isn't directly at trench's bidding (not being dropped int a boat has its upsides) it's still the situation that's driving it, the corruption, the trauma. maybe the pthumerians didn't directly engineer this, but they sure didn't course correct for zealots.
though, it sounds like sharon's got her own homeworld issues that might be ...no, they are arguably just as bad. shit. (goddamn and no way also work here.) but the joke works, because it's a go-to coping mechanism for vi, too. it takes her a moment to return her own strained, slightly awkward smile.]
Goddamn right you do. No way would I have guessed. Better than pretty good. [...] I hope they look like the shittiest shit that ever shit. You fucked 'em up, right?
[ her lips twitch when vi says better than pretty good, a silent show of gratitude and affection. she does look pretty good, thank you for noticing. at the question, she nods firmly. ]
You have no idea. Some of them are just puddles, others experienced what they put me through. [ the ones that didn't really matter, the ones that followed, just got relatively quick deaths. the ones that hurt her the most, though, she made sure they suffered. she will never forget the way christabella begged or the amount of satisfaction she got from it. ] Fire seemed only fitting for most of them.
no subject
Or have a system in place that'll take you out no questions asked if you're not yourself anymore. I'm thinking of making a better system for that than what I've got.
[vileblood: the bane of getting drunk.]
I know a gal that can make duplicates of herself when she fights, they're illusions, but you're saying what you've got is you being able to split ...you? [a vague idea of the concept, but not the variation in sharons.]
no subject
[ sharon means that. she doesn't want to see vi lose herself. she doesn't think jinx would handle it well and it would certainly break sansa's heart. ]
Yeah, I can split me. My soul. But... it's not something I think I'll ever do again. The pain it requires... The pain it causes... [ she swallows back a lump in her throat, eyes down on the empty glass in her hand. she'll never be able to forget that pain. and she'd done it twice. ] You don't ever forget. You feel it forever. Like a scar.
But that's why I exist the way I am. I'm Sharon Da Silva because I created Sharon Da Silva. I'm... [ she laughs bitterly here and refills both their glasses again, a little sloppier this time around, splashing some on the table. ] I'm my own mother.
I was one person. And then I was two people. And then I was three people. And now I'm one again. A royally fucked up whole with all the memories and experiences of my other pieces.
no subject
that circles around the edges of it - the idea of a fragmented self, but this is - a lot more than that. it's beyond voices, beyond even hallucinations, perhaps. you feel it forever, like a scar.
she knows a little about that, but the gravitas is enough to make her reconsider the depth of that knowledge. push comes to shove? she'd bet sharon might just know more. and that's ...terrible, honestly.
a shudder runs through her at this - and as it goes it takes some of the sick in her eyes with it.]
I...
[her mind can't wrap around i'm my own mother as much as she wants (maybe doesn't) it to, and that's evident by her expression - but the last part she has no trouble understanding. her own trauma is enough - the idea of that in triplicate? that's just too much.]
Shit, Sharon. I don't know whether to pour you another right here, or switch you to over to water.
[big sister button has been activated.]
no subject
Don't worry, last glass for me. [ she lifts it up to her lips and sips it this time around, no longer trying to down it like a dying man, and tries to smile but it's strained and wrong. painted on. a smile that doesn't reach the eyes. ]
...I probably shouldn't have dropped that shit on you right now.
no subject
I'm the one that asked how it worked, so that kinda makes me the shit-dropper if you think about it.
This could be my last. I mean, I'm still sober, because this shit's a poison.
[of course she drinks some after that.]
no subject
So, what, you can't get drunk?
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...I got into a contest with Johnny and a coupla other guys, and let's just say I was the last one standing. Well, until I tried to keep up with D. Huge mistake.
So I can get there, but it takes a lot. Forty shots, give or take a few.
[she just ends up reconsidering her motives half the time - vileblood: it gives her a lot of time to do so. not a bad thing, she's just really got to commit to getting smashed.]
It sucks that you had to get pushed that far. [it doesn't sound like a thing she'd just done for the hell of it. splitting a soul. fragmenting a self? she thinks of her sister again and sighs softly.]
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Yeah, it does. [ she agrees with a nod, her amusement fading like chalk drawings in the rain. ] Nothing quite like being burned alive to push you over the edge.
no subject
I don't even know how to follow that. What the fuck, is probably a solid choice, but it doesn't feel like enough.
[she knows what she'd do if this were powder, or jinx, or so many other people - but sharon's a prickly one sometimes - she's good at keeping people at a distance - and vi gets it, but she sighs and tries anyway. not a hug, but a reach for a hand if she can, just that and no words. pure disgust, horror on her face before the wince comes.]
no subject
Nah, what the fuck works pretty well. I'd also have taken goddamn and no fucking way. [ She gives Vi a grin but it's tight-lipped. Another attempt to offer the other woman some hint of comfort or ease in the face of something so heavy. ] I look pretty good for a burn victim, huh? [ A humorless attempt at a joke.
Listen. She hates feeling this vulnerable, okay. ]
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though, it sounds like sharon's got her own homeworld issues that might be ...no, they are arguably just as bad. shit. (goddamn and no way also work here.) but the joke works, because it's a go-to coping mechanism for vi, too. it takes her a moment to return her own strained, slightly awkward smile.]
Goddamn right you do. No way would I have guessed. Better than pretty good. [...] I hope they look like the shittiest shit that ever shit. You fucked 'em up, right?
no subject
You have no idea. Some of them are just puddles, others experienced what they put me through. [ the ones that didn't really matter, the ones that followed, just got relatively quick deaths. the ones that hurt her the most, though, she made sure they suffered. she will never forget the way christabella begged or the amount of satisfaction she got from it. ] Fire seemed only fitting for most of them.