Zero! Zero! Zero! Zero! Zero!"
One half-brother, dead - Clovis poor Clovis, whom in a saner world, would have designed amusement parks and casinos and racy swimsuits and occasionally old folks homes and the like would never have had anything to do with any massacres, ever - well, not any more then sometimes hearing about such news on the telly or something, anyhow, she didn't think anybody could avoid that.
One half-brother, a living puppet - Schneizel, poor Schneizel, who had been so charismatic, so many depending on him, now a obedient puppet dancing to the 'Demon Emperors' will - or was, anyway. She was quite aware that they were many that would probably say that it was much less then he deserved, especially considering the Fleija'ing of Pendragon, but if so -
"Zero! Zero! Zero! Zero! Zero!"
'Zero' looked down at her, from the dais - and then at the chanting crowd.
One half-sister, not dead at all- indeed, she could feel Cornelia racing her way, trying to get through the crowd, even without raising her eyes, Sir Guilford at her heels.
Which led to thoughts about yet another half-sister, as naturally as water flowing downhill - Euphemia, poor Euphie, who had been so kind and had ended up killing so many people, whose death had devastiated so many people in so many ways - what was that girl's name, Nina, yes? She had been just the tip of the iceberg, because -
Because it had been poor Euphie's death that had driven the nails into what was left of Schneizel's - well, not sanity, not really, but something related to that, she thought - hindsight was oh so wonderful. His tolerance of this massively imperfect world, perhaps...
Euphie, Euphie, Euphemia - had it been that, perhaps? The straw that broke so many camel's backs - Tell me, tell me -
She grabbed at her dying brother's hand, never mind the blood staining her loose red dress - ha ha, what was this color, it was like it was designed to look good with blood all over it or something it -
Tell me, tell me - was it really you who made my - our sister Euphie kill so many people? I know Schneizel thought so - Cornelia too, though she didn't actually say so to me -
And if she was crazy for caring more about that at this moment then all the people that the 'Massacre Princess' had gotten killed, or the all the other people who had gotten killed in the bloody not-so-minor war they had been having, or the aftermath after that, really - well, so be it.
Because Euphemia had been kind (if sometimes somewhat flaky). And Euphemia had been earnest (if sometimes more then a little gullible). And Euphemia had not deserved to have been turned into some kind of 'Icon of Oppression' to further somebody's political aims, by Lelouch of all people, who she had loved and had tried to help (because really - if what she had heard was correct, Euphie had actually made some kind of bargain with her (presumed) late and unlamented (to her, anyway) Lord Father to trade in her inheritance rights to the Holy Britannian Empire's throne for something right before she announced the establishment of the SAZ - and there were only a limited numbers of ways that that kind of coin could be used, really), and -
Oh, brother, brother -
"Zero! Zero! Zero! Zero! Zero!"
Nunnelly vi Brittania held on to her brother's hand, feeling Lelouch's life slipping away from her, his blood staining her dress and arms-
Why, why, why -
Show me why, tell me why, what went wrong what happened to the brother who loved me helped me took care of me in a warzone and out of one -
Nunnelly dived into her brother's thoughts. Flashes - Ashford, together - a younger her - his school friends and hers - and, strangely enough, images of a boy that looked a lot like a female version of her (this image came with a name, 'Rolo') , sans wheelchair - confronting their Lord Father (so, so old-looking. older then his age, nothing like the Father she remembered from her earliest years, almost like his paranoia and greed and pain and needs had eaten him up from the inside) alongside Suzaku (so handsome!) and CC (she really had green hair, such a bright shade too, so rare), and - Mother? - what was this? Mother wasn't dead? Oh, no, wait - she was - piggybacking on Anya?
No, wait - was that their real Mother, though? She was - it was - No, even her brother wasn't sure, not really not truly. Maybe it really was the Mother that they remembered, kind, protective and vibrant, but even then, she was -
Marianne vi Britannia had always thrived on conflict, and always loved her Lord and Husband best - Even more then her children? No, no, she couldn't be sure, and neither could her brother - was this actually some version of the real thing, or something - some twisted shadow - created by a man who had missed his dead Consort more then anything in the world? Which?
Because yes, it was within the realms of possibility that Chales of Britannia had done just that. Nunnelly knew this, somewhere in her bones.
Her Father (and Mother?) had wished to - Stop time? Push the Reset Button? Encapsulate the entire World in a unchanging amber bubble, in which all the Masks that people wore to define themselves came down, in which the Past and the Present and the dead and the living were all mixed up, and Tomorrow never came, ever, which meant -
Nunnelly shuddered, then. Her Father had tried to breach the wall that separated the living and the dead - and that...
No.
And then her brother looks up, and calls upon the heavens (whirling Not-Jupitar in the skies, all those Eyes looking down at the World) to deny his Fathers (and Mothers?) Wish - and that Wish is granted, yes.
Granted, yes - but Wishes are never free.
And then -
Euphie.
Nunnelly follows a slightly younger Lelouch's memories as he goes up to Euphemia li Brittania that fateful day, determined to do something to keep his carefully constructed plans from collapsing utterly, and -
And then -
And then, Euphemia had confounded him utterly - Oh, Euphie...
But then...Why?
And then, Lelouch turned to her...and showed her the why, in all it's bloody idiotic glorious horror. Nunnelly shook. So because...
Because her brother had said the wrong thing at the wrong time without realizing that -
His 'geass' had modelocked -
Euphie had. Euphemia - had -
Oh, yes - she could understand just why her brother had never actually been able to tell her (or anybody else she knew about, as far as she knew) about this, yes, yes - oh, the bloody horror, the bloody shame...
The Utterly Worst Fuck-up Of His Cunning Plans Ever, yes, yes, yes - she understood that all too well, what had defined her brother if not his cunning, after all?
Better to be thought a heartless monster (to most people who where 'in the know', anyway - Like Schneizel. Or Cornelia. Or - ) then a fucked up disaster zone waiting to happen, eh, brother mine?
Except that that wasn't what was important about one Lelouch vi Britannia or Lamperouge or whatever name they were using at the moment, not to her...
And that was she went - sideways, entirely.
Dark, dark, it was so dark...
And then...light. A boy, about 14 years old - who was this? He looked a bit like the boy who her brother thought of as 'Rolo', which meant that he looked like her, but - no. This wasn't that 'Rolo'.
But the angle was strange - and why did he look so...big?
"Ha ha, what's with you? Stupid cat - what's on that head of yours, anyway?"
Big, big hands, picking - her? - No, this wasn't her - up.
"Charles, stop touching strange animals, you'll get rabies you idiot."
A shorter boy, wane and somehow sickly-looking, peered over the Not -Rolo's arms. He was somehow familiar, too, with his brown hair and amber eyes, though Nunnelly couldn't really place him at all. Hmmm...maybe they were both relatives of hers? The boy called Charles had purple eyes, just like hers... And the name... Even the hair...
"It doesn't look like it has rabies..."
"Fleas, then. I get sick enough without you bringing cat fur and fleas into my room, you know?"
The shorter boy muttered, turning away.
"Sorry, brother mine." The boy turned back, grabbing something.
"Miooowwww!"
"Sorry, cat, but you shouldn't have had tape stuck to your head in her first place, I don't think..."
"Charles. Why are you having conversations with a cat."
The shorter boy sighed, looking at his - brother? -fondly.
Nunnelly blinked. She talked to any cats at hand all the time, too - she didn't see any reason not to, since they seemed to like it.
"Hey, hey, you alright? Don't worry, I wouldn't let crazytwin here get you..."
"And just what are you calling me now?" The shorter boy flopped on his twin.
"What a weird-looking cat. The black fur is alright, but are they actually supposed to have purple eyes?"
"...I do?"
"You are not a cat, the last time I checked, despite some opinions to the contrary. And what's that weird mark on it's forehead, anyway...It looks like a cresent moon or something."
"Oh, shut up Vivian, I think it looks pretty. You think you're pretty, right?"
The boy petted the - cat? - on the head. There was a small sneeze.
'Vivian?' Nunnelly blinked. Oh, yes, 'Vivian' was technically a gender-neutral name, if she remembered things properly...
'Charles' snickered, picking up whatever it was. The shorter boy, on the other hand, looked at the - cat? - again, and snorted.
"Charles - I think this thing just rolled it's eyes."
"Oh." The boy called 'Charles' considered this. "Was it agreeing with me or not agreeing with me, then?"
Nunnelly blinked. This was...very strange...
But it was what she saw after that that was truly the thing of nightmares.
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(Posted Sat, 09 May 2009 05:47)
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