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Post by Octavian O'Connor on Feb 25, 2016 9:57:01 GMT
A half smile touched his lips, and he let out a breath. Frosted water vapor touching the air outside of his lips, and his head fell once again shaking. "Rules and laws that we follow and obey." He said with such absolute sadness. "Our greatest strength, and out most painful weakness. The rules that bind our lives, also bind our hearts." He sighed, his hands returning to his pockets. "You're right, in society my actions shall fall on you." He admitted with with no small amount of guilt. "But why?" He asked bringing his eyes up once again to look into hers. "Why must you take it to heart as yours? Why must you carry on their charade in your heart? Why must opinion matter more than truth?"
He understood her logic, her reasoning, every bit of her fury rage and frustration. He wouldn't shy away from any punishment, he'd even leave if she asked him too. He finally just nodded his head. "I'm sorry Amy, I love you." He just lowered his head once more shaking is slowly side to side. Amy O'Connor had been broken to Ventrue heel. The thought had never occurred to him, never once did he believe that she could believe an outright lie so fully. His shoulders fell, sagging under the weight of his newly found knowledge and the pain he must have caused her. For all his strength of heart and courage, for all his code of honor and etiquette. Octavian stood before Amy defeated, not because of inaction, but because of the immutable nature.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Feb 25, 2016 10:10:40 GMT
She watched as he shrunk away from her, as his shoulders fell in a way she had never before witnessed. For as long as she had known him, he had been a strong force of nature, a powerful individual indeed. He was the man that had inspired her once more, the only person that had been able to break through her frozen shield. Yet, as she watched, she came to realize that it was, in fact, she who had destroyed him. She felt the fracture within her chest, so sudden and powerful that her hand, instinctively, raised to grasp at her skin-tight shirt, separated from her only by chain-mail that had, until then, been silent. It felt as if she had been shot or stabbed.
She was left breathless for less than a second, but for her, it seemed to spread out indefinitely. Etonis's words echoed in her head: he had warned her. Out of pride and some misguided ideology of love and affection, she had ignored and dismissed him. As if she thought age was directly related to experience, she had trusted her own judgement. Just as the rules dictated she accept the actions already transpired and the ones yet to come, she was directly responsible for what had happened to her husband. She gasped audibly, and the amount of sound she had made in that single moment was terribly out of character and concerning.
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Post by Octavian O'Connor on Feb 25, 2016 10:36:44 GMT
Octavian heard chain-mail, then her gasp, and his world teetered on the brink of total destruction. Every aspect of him was about to shatter like fine china under a hammer. Octavian moved, faster than he had in a long time, and wrapped Amy up in his arms, blood already trickling from his eyes. His face burying itself against her delicate shoulder. He could feel chill, he knew chill, but in that moment, she went far beyond chill. Amy was glacial. "I'm sorry Amy. I'm sorry." He repeated over and over again.
Everything he built, everything he hoped he could do, not just for Amy, but for everyone was crashing down all around him. The people would be in far more danger than ever if his plan failed, Amy would be crushed, regardless of him being by her side. He'd caused Finn so much agony. He was the monster that Jude claimed he would become. Jude was right about a lot. Octavian could only hope and pray that he wasn't right about everything.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Feb 25, 2016 23:29:25 GMT
It took her far too long to realize that he had moved and was then holding her. His summer warmth tried to penetrate the icy chill her curse produced, but she felt it in the way a sleeping person may feel the hand of their lover: it was there, but removed. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around him in hopes of clinging to every remnant of heat she could, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get it to shatter the fog that had settled over her mind. Far too many people had warned her this would happen, and she had refused to listen.
Her fingers grasped at his clothing in utter desperation as her mind and her heart warred. Breathing took far too much effort, so after a short time, she simply stopped. Her arms burned excruciatingly, and she knew that there would be new, fresh scars marring her skin whenever she removed her gloves. The curse was making its constant way towards her heart.
"No," she whispered, breaking his pattern. "Please, Octavian... Please, don't apologize." It was his wife that spoke, the broken-hearted little girl that curled up in the library to read novels written for teenagers. She was scared, holding him in the darkness and knowing she was the reason it would eventually swallow her soul. His friend, that obnoxious blonde bastard, had been right all along. Eto had been right. Even Christian Sorel, her father so full of infinite wisdom, had been right. She had attempted to prove all of them wrong...
And she had failed.
"Please, Octavian," Amy murmured, moving to rest her face against his. "Go home. Get away from here. I will find the others and get them back to the safety of the city, but... Please. Let me try to keep you safe."
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Post by Octavian O'Connor on Feb 26, 2016 3:29:43 GMT
Octavian held her there, not willing to let go. This was his Amy, this was the woman he loved, the girl who loved their trips and his parents and everything else about their great unlife. He couldn't let her go, not to let her become the glacier that she felt she had to be. But her words struck him, they struck him home and he held her all the tighter for it. She still loved him, as he did her. Everything would work, everything would be okay. Amy was still Amy.
Slowly Octavian pulled away from his wife, from her frigid skin, his blood frozen down his cheeks and across his lips. "Promise you'll come home?" He asked, all the hope in the world surging back into him as his shoulders straightened, and the light returned to his red rimmed warm eyes. "Promise me you'll come back to me?" He asked, his voice was cracking, as it had been, but there was true hope, and warmth in his words. He knew they could work, they had been through worse.
Thankfully, Jude was wrong.
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Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Feb 26, 2016 3:39:49 GMT
It pained her to let him pull away, but she could see her frost beginning to form across his skin. While the cold couldn't kill him, she knew it must be uncomfortable for him. She forced herself not to cling to him, to pull him back against her. Even so, her hand whipped up and grasped at his shirt, a brief moment of her love shining through her training. She took a deep breath and let that go, too, as his words echoed across her mind.
Did he ever think, for even a moment, that she would not come home to him if she had the choice? A soft, barely perceptible smile softened her features as her head tilted, blue starting to return to her irises. "Of course," she murmured, leaning forward to drag her frozen lips across his cheek. "I'll always come home, as long as you are there, waiting for me."
Glancing over his shoulder, she could see Rumor sitting right beside the prone form of her Malkavian Primogen, still unconscious. The Gangrel looked absolutely terrified, staring out into the darkness like a child. Amy let out a soft breath. "Get them back to safety. I have to go find the others, and then I will come home."
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