giftedthom | (no subject)

::Sleeta sounds amused and annoyed at the same time::

Denying it won't help, lir.

::flushes and shouts:: I don't want you here, damn you!

What - what the hell? We've got our own magic back, you shouldn't be in the link!

::looks down at Sleeta, wide-eyed:: What went wrong?

::the cat looks smug:: I cannot say. But the link encompasses all three of us.

Then the link is wrong. If you think I want to be lir-linked to that ku'reshtin -

Well, good; it's mutual.

I want nothing to do with either of you!

Then you'll get your wish.

::turns on his heel and goes to leave, stumbling slightly but refusing to look back, even when Sleeta protests::

Lir-

::acidly:: No, Sleeta. He wants us gone, we'll go. The lir-link will break when we leave this godsforsaken place, anyway.

And what do you think will happen to both of you? What happens when a warrior loses his lir?

::snaps:: He lives happily ever after.

Or dies forever after. It's the same thing in the end.

If death is my tahlmorra then I accept it. It's a damn sight better than hanging around as bitter, self-centred ku'reshtin whose own arrogance got himself killed!

::snorts:: And what do you call what you just said, if not arrogance?

Realism, perhaps? I won't deny I've got my fair share of arrogance, but at least I don't make other people miserable because of my own mistakes.

Yeah? Nice to know I don't count as people to you, Cat-man.

::balls up a fist and hits Brennan::

::recoils more because of the unexpectedness of the blow than because it really hurts, and reacts almost instinctively, grabbing Thom's arm and spinning him around, shoving him against the wall and holding him there with an arm against his throat::

::hissing:: Right now you're worse than Ihlini to me, and that's something I never thought I'd have to say.

::yelps, startled, and goes perfectly still, glaring::

::hisses:: I have a knack for it.

Get your hands the fuck off me.

::dangerously softly:: Are you going to make me?

Lir-

::sharply:: No, Sleeta. This is my business, not yours.

::narrows his eyes:: Go ahead and try me. It'll make my day.

You want to play at being strong? I've known boys stronger than you are where it really matters. Your magic may be powerful but you're nothing where it counts, Thom.

::stays where he is and speaks again, a challenging note entering his voice::

You really think you can beat me?

::harsh laughter:: There's more to strength than brute force. I have everything that really matters.

You have what? Bitterness? The ability to close yourself off from everyone around you? I wasn't talking about brute strength.

::calmly:: Myself, the Gift, my sister.

Everything that really matters.

::releases him and steps back, shaking his head and looking inexplicably sad::

If that's everything that matters, I'm sorry for you.

::Shakes silently for a moment. Thom's eyes grow ice-cold, strangely out of place in his flushed face. He snarls:: Don't you dare run from me.

I don't want your fucking pity.

::coldly:: Why? Does it mess up the twisted way you like to see the world? Does having someone actually care about what you feel or what happens to you spoil your perception of everyone being completely self-involved ku'reshtin who don't care for anyone but themselves? Maybe you like to think like that, but you can't hide from the truth forever.

You know, that's a very pretty speech, Cat, but no-one ever means those words. ::He points to the door::

So I'd be...obliged...if you'd take your lies, and your nice little ideals, and get them the fuck out of my room and back to your castle in the clouds, where the pack of you belong.

::quietly:: Cat, huh?

::abruptly, a blurring void is where Brennan was, and when it clears, there is a large black mountain cat instead of a man. It stalks slowly towards Thom::

'What do you know of sincerety? What do you know of anything besides your own problems, your own little world where everything is anyone's fault but yours?'

::He is between Thom and the door, and even Sleeta is beginning to look worried::

I know what I've been taught.

::moving oh-so-slowly closer, looking like he's hunting::

'Oh? And what exactly would that be?'

Lir-

'No, Sleeta.'