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Ophelia is a Fatebinder of Tunon, tasked with delivering Kyros's Edict - 'surrender or die'. This doesn't produce straightforward compliance.
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"...The thing that is respect and fear commingled - I would call it power."

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It is after a pause that she continues, as if the answer to the question was dragged out before she thought of the rest of what she wanted to say.

"So if the Chorus doesn't expect you to be what you're not - what would you say you are?"

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She looks at Ophelia like she's a little stupid. "A born killer."

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Ophelia gives a little shrug at the 'are you stupid' look.

"I thought you'd say something like that, but there's a difference between guessing what someone will say and hearing someone say something in their own words.

"Is a born killer the whole of what you want to be?"

She says it, again, like it doesn't matter what the answer is.  (Though part of her hopes that it's 'no'.)

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"What else would I want? Tried being a gang boss, it got old fast. Crimson Spear? Nah, I'd rather keep a little distance from Nerat. An Archon? That's an ambition that just gets you killed. I can do what I'm good at, I enjoy it, and very few people can order me around. That's plenty."

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Ophelia nods.  "I suppose the question I really meant to ask is if you had - anything else you liked doing.  Something you'd do if you were struck by a curse that left you unable to pursue battle.  A hobby, or - starting a family, or something.  Not that I expect you to be inclined to the latter.  You'd be bored to tears halfway through pregnancy."

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"Nothing's ever appealed. Training others isn't bad, but I don't love it. I might try to hunt game and sell it. But - honestly I'd probably take six span trying and then off myself."

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"...taking my Fatebinder hat off...that sounds like the sort of thing one gives one's friends a comforting gesture about, if it comes up, but I don't know how you feel about - touch, in full generality."

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"Not a fan of hugs. Hand on the shoulder's fine, if you want. But don't worry about me. I found the thing I'm meant for; losing it would still be better than never having found it."

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She nods.  "I wish there was something more than that that sang to you, regardless.  If the war ended tomorrow, and the Archons didn't explode like I'm sure we all know is going to happen - it would seem a waste of you, to send you off to die alone.  No matter what Nerat is inevitably planning, you're - a boon companion.

"I've heard there's some places that have fighting rings.  I don't know if that'd work for you, but it's worth mentioning, in case the Chorus ends up being disbanded, for whatever reason.  And there is always mercenary work, though it feels a bit - petty - for you.  Not that I believe you'd care how grand the combat was, just that it was - but at some point it's hardly battle."

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"Yeah, I've heard of the gladiators, one of the Spears used to be one, real old-timer. Seeking thought she might try to run one of their training outfits, if we ran out of war to fight."

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And there is the hand on her friend's shoulder, warm and supportive.  "That would have been a sight to see, a hundred little hers; did she tell you she speared Cairn in the back of the throat?

"I wish I'd thought of the tricks to hurt him soon enough to get - probably the Forge-Bound - to make a brace of javelins with vials on the end.  I almost think it would have worked.  His insides weren't as hard as his outsides, and the catapult mostly hit his outsides.  But if wishes were fishes...Well.  Unfortunately, they aren't, and time only goes forwards."

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"You'd have had to share the title with her. She'd probably have stuck with Seeking, though, it suited her better. You probably didn't see her too much off duty, she was ravenous for everything the way her spears were hungry for blood. Damn I miss them."

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"If it had meant a victory for places that weren't just Plainsgate, I'd have gladly made that trade.  If anything, that title...I imagine you know how I felt, the first time I heard it.

"But this isn't about me.

 

"...Honestly, I miss them too, for all that I didn't know them as well.  ...Do you have - anything to remember them by?  Favorite foods, places you held close...inherited wisdom, funny stories to pass on?  I've...heard it said, before, that someone is not truly dead, so long as their name is still spoken.  That - we carry bits of the lost with us, in our memories.  And sharing them - can help."

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At 'anything to remember them by', her expression suddenly curdles. "Eugh", she whispers, rapidly turning away.

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"-- ..."

Oh dear.  That's not good.

"...something happened, huh?  I - you should not speak of it, if you don't wish to.  But if it would help, I will keep it in strictest confidence should you speak."

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Her voice is small and slightly shaky. "I had a closer bond to them than most Furies do to their sisters. From the first time we fought as a gang. And - when they died, it snapped back on me. Like a cut rope, hauling the other end straight into my head."

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Ophelia emits a soft 'oh'.

"And you know of only one entity that does something like that, and I don't imagine you like them."

Her hand is still there, reassuringly present, rubbing the small of Verse's back like she's heard sometimes helps with those who sick up.

"You aren't them, Verse.  You did not rip the faces from their bodies, do not wear them as masks, do not speak through them as puppets."

"If anything, I am more reminded of Oathbound.  They work in small units, swearing - well, an oath - that allows them instinctual communion in battle - and strengthens the survivors, should one die an untimely death.  I've not asked if it brings their memories, too, to the survivors.  ...I could, if it would help."

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"...Yeah. Yeah, that would help. Last year I would have said Nerat was the scariest thing I'd ever seen. Being Nerat... turns out, that's even worse. But, hey, I can nearly spear a punk like Seeking could, so I'm coming out ahead, right?" She laughs bitterly.

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"Even if you steal his powers - you will not be him.  You are you, and you will always be you, no matter what happens.  ...I will definitely ask around, though, about this."

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"That's less reassuring when my head's feeling crowded, even if it's just my sisters doing the crowding. And... they died because I missed my steps of the dance, but -  it was, kind of, Barik's fault I was distracted. I can feel him a little. It doesn't really make sense. He's my half-brother, though. That's what I was blackmailing him about, they care so much about lineage and knowing his father cheated on his mother with a Tierswoman would be scurrilous gossip."

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That isn't a good sign, no, but she doesn't mention it.  She needs to do more research.

"...It does feel like - it's bonds, that matter.

"...can you feel me, any?"

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She closes her eyes and tilts her head.

 

 

"No. Good."

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