[Closed] This steel hand will never reach you

[zothiquekey]

Who: Sebastian Moran (zothiquekey ), Mary Clarissa Christie (murderiwrote ), and Charlotte Brontë (lilyheart ).
What: Moran prepares to leave through the Gate of Fog, when two unwelcome guests join her.
When: Day 64, morning.
Where: The Gate of Fog.
Rating: PG
 
She knew better than to blindly trust the word of gods, all of whom seemed to take pleasure in their troubles and suffering: nothing more than macabre spectators who enjoyed bringing destruction, inciting panic, feeding chaos. She had done her best to warn the golden-eyed girl, and to ensure that her friend would watch over her in her place, considering her role to be complete. As it was her duty to protect Objective A, she would not allow her to chase whatever flight of fancy she chose to pursue, not without first having confirmed that the promise of home was not a trap. If all went smoothly, she would no longer dwell in this city with its trickery and illusions, anticipating the icy streets of 1905, London once again. If.

What laid beyond the gates could easily be worse than heads combusting, or a vision of M betraying her. This place had made her as vulnerable as the next person, the black stitches sewn neatly into her side serving as a visceral reminder of that. However, now was not a time for cowardice. If she could find her master, then any harm would have been well worth it. For M's sake, she was prepared to do anything.

Possessing no personal items of her own, it had made leaving the welcome hall simple. It was early enough that she could see no others around, and it was still dark enough that no one would be awake. Mary Clarissa would be sleeping safely in her bed, at this hour. Her gun tucked securely at her side, Moran approached the gates in measured strides.

Comments

[zothiquekey]

Her emotion circuit was grating, gnashing quietly as both girls refused to conceed; little could be done to get between the two, and she had no desire to accept the role of peacemaker for petty arguments. If they weren't going to reach an agreement, then she could wait no longer. It was better for Mary to stay in this foreign world, relatively safe and sheltered, rather than—

Memories rushed back to her: A young lady's final words before her gruesome death, televised to all. A crazed stranger, wearing the mask of someone so very dear to her, blades concealed up their sleeve.

—Rather than facing any possible punishments. "Games" of the gods. Without another word, she turned away as they continued to exchange words, stiffly walking closer—and then through the Gate, the white fog swallowing her up. If either of them bothered to look where she had once stood, they would find she had simply vanished.

[murderiwrote]

Firm in her decision, Mary could only stayed quiet as her best friend pleaded with her. It hurt to see her friend in that much pain, but it hurt even more to know that she could have made it all go away if she were to simply comply to Charlie's request. As she was about to try to convince both of the woman again, Mary finally noticed that Moran was nowhere in sight, presumably already going through the gate. Instead of chasing her immediately, the girl walked toward her best friend, hugging her and trying to comfort her the best she can.

"I promise I will. We'll all definitely return home together."

Releasing her from the hug, Mary tried to keep up her smile, hoping to convince Charlie to wait for them in Asgard. It wasn't the safest city; she knew that much after the all the things she had witnessed. But even so, its relative comfort was better than risking taking her best friend through the gate. The gods might have promised them home, but who knew what was truly beyond it?

"But that's why I can't let her go alone. She... Moran needs to return with us, too. So please, wait for me here, all right? I will come back to you no matter what."

And without another word, Mary ran straight ahead into the gate, hoping to catch Moran in time.