open ☾ When people run in circles, it's...

[pplrunincircles]

[OOC: edging towards insanity. ;_; I know it's hard to tag and might be until she snaps out of it for anyone that decides to thread w/ her. Since I know it's confusing, there's only demon blood and it's on her hands and shirt and specks on her face.]

a mad world

I am an angel of death. You only see me before you die.An angel of death walks down a

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;___________;

[thelightofgrace]

He sees her and he almost doesn't recognize her.

It takes him a second in the low light, but even if he doesn't recognize her right off the bat, he recognizes the look in her eyes. He's seen it on himself, during that time when he's been forced to look in the mirror and seen nothing but emptiness looking back at him. There are two years, lodged somewhere in his not-too-distant memory where there was never anything but emptiness staring back at him, and now, seeing the same look on Elizabeth's face scares him, just a little.

She's so young. So much younger than he is, and yet living in this damn city has shown her just as much. She didn't have to go to war or go away to find the brunt of her Calling, she found it right here in Chicago, and because of that, she's going to lose her mind so much sooner than she needed to.

It isn't fair. Life isn't fair, but this ... this seems a bit extreme, even for life.

He catches her before she gets too far past him, hoping she'll at least recognize her own name. "Elizabeth?"

FWAH Charlie ;__;

[pplrunincircles]

She turns at the sound of the voice. There's a part of her that recognizes the name- her name. It's her name. It's not just a name. There's a bigger part of her that recognizes person. Someone that could be dying soon, and she turns at the sound.

She looks up, meeting his gaze. There's a pause, a hesitation because there's seeing a person as a person and trying to look into their eyes and find their-- see their death. The latter makes it impossible to recognize anyone.

"You're... not going to die."

Not this week.

"Not yet."

But everyone dies eventually.

i ... couldn't not.

[thelightofgrace]

Everyone does die eventually. With a Calling like theirs, it's more apparent than most that everyone dies. You can't just live in the world and pretend that it won't find you eventually, because it stares you in the face every day. There's no denying death.

"No," he shakes his head. "No, I'm not. And neither are you, darlin'."

He could see it. He wonders if she remembers, that he's just like her, and he can tell.

i love it ;_;

[pplrunincircles]

Elizabeth hasn't recognized him yet, barely recognized herself in the mess going on in her head. She closes her eyes and then opens them again when he says that. It hits her hard and it breaks through the angel exterior, the angel that wants to look for the dead.

Something about the darling. Something about the fact he knows too. Knows that she won't be dying but angels don't-- they do. An angel of death is not immune to death. It clicks like... gears.

"...Charlie?" And her voice sounds more like her own, lost and pained as it may be. "I don't know how-- where did you come from?"

[thelightofgrace]

"I think the more important question is where did you," he murmurs softly, before starting to guide her over towards where he had parked his car. "C'mon. I'll take you home, alright? We'll get you cleaned up."

He doesn't want to startle her too much. Coming out of something like this is never easy, and he just wants her to take it nice and easy.

[pplrunincircles]

"I don't... remember," Elizabeth says, and she knows that there was death. She helped someone die. It's clear by the blood on her that someone died, and she must have helped them, but she doesn't know where they were or how long she was just walking.

Some part of her wants to resist. The rest of her knows she shouldn't, she shouldn't or it's all over. She follows him to his car. "Okay." Pause. Tears burn at her eyes, but she stares ahead. "Charlie, did it-- did it ever get like this for you?"

[thelightofgrace]

He nods, but he waits until they're both in the car before he actually speaks. It was a conversation that is better for somewhere private -- or as private as a car on a Chicago street can be.

"Three years ago, when I was in Iraq," he says softly. "There was so much death, all the time. IUDs, snipers, suicide bombers -- it never stopped. And then my best friend was shot by insurgents. I had seen it about a week before, but ... " It still hurt just as much. It still overloaded him just as much. " ... Next thing I remember, I'm in a VA hospital, not far from the town where I grew up. Said I had had some kind of mental break, from the stress. I didn't speak to anyone for about a year. Doctors called it 'catatonic.'"

[pplrunincircles]

It helps a little to be in a car and not out on the sidewalk where she knows people will be. They may walk by and they may be dying. If they're dying, she'll have to follow them. Have to.

In the silence of the car, it is easier for her to focus on him, much as her mind is having trouble focusing at all. She is quiet and she listens, tears filling her eyes, hearing his story. "I'm so sorry, Charlie."

It's quiet but sincere even in the haze that's in her mind. She is so sorry. "I know it's right. I know what we do is good, and I believe no one should die alone. I just-" She shakes her head sliding her hands over her face. "I don't want that to happen to you again, but it will and it will happen to me over and over until there's--" No coming back. Death makes sense.

The rest doesn't to her.

[thelightofgrace]

He honestly doesn't know what to tell her, because it's the part of the story that he hates as well. There's no pretty end for an angel of death. There's only that -- death, and whether or not they can manage to have it happen peacefully or not.

He doesn't find the words easily, but he knows that he needs to say something.

"Everything's got consequences, darlin', and not all of them are pretty." There is a pause as he tries to figure out where his brain is going with this, but instead he decides to just let the words fall and hope they help. He was raised to be a guardian, after all, even if he wasn't. He should be able to say something. "I know it's not ... pretty, what we do. And I know that this is scary. But ... we have a purpose. We do good. And sometimes we need to take comfort in that and hope the rest works itself out." There's another pause. "Make sure that the in between is good too. Make sure that it's worth it."

[pplrunincircles]

Elizabeth doesn't know if she's looking for anything in specific to hear. It's more that she has always embraced this first without ever understanding the whole of it, and then even after she didn't.

Sometimes someone needs to shout out against it. They need to scream and tear things apart and say it is NOT okay. It is not okay that this happens.

She looks up at him, sliding her hands from her face. Tears have slipped down her cheeks. "I know," Elizabeth says, and she breathes in. "I know. It's good that we do this, and I-- I needed the reminder. I have always-- always been happy and proud of my purpose, and I've tried to live. Really live, you know? I think I did. Knowing death so well, you know how... important life is. I think that's important too."

She slides her hand over the tears on her face. "Thank you. For taking care of me tonight."

[thelightofgrace]

"It's my pleasure," he says with a small smile as he turns to start the car. "And if you ever need to talk to anyone, Elizabeth -- I'm here, alright? You're not going through this alone."

Angels of Death, for all their difficult Callings, are never alone. That much is always certain.

[pplrunincircles]

Elizabeth looks down, hair falling in front of her face but she nods in response. "Okay," she says, and it's hoarse but she understands. "Thank you. You can take me... back to the Con-- the Tower. I don't remember where I live but I-- I can contact Josef from there and he'd... get me."

They are never alone. No one in this city is. It is why as much as this city has provided more deaths than she can count anymore for her to save, it is still her city, her home, because no one is alone. And she sees that with friends like Charlie and with people all over.

She sees that far more frequently than she sees death. And that's something.

[thelightofgrace]

He nods slowly as he pulls out into the street and starts the slow drive back to the Kashtta. "Alright," he nods. "One trip to the tower it is."

He'll be quiet for the rest of the drive, and keep to himself. Sometimes silence helps just as much as the words do.