Justine Florbelle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
todayiwas) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lastvoyages2025-04-30 08:46 am
todayiwas) wrote in lastvoyages2025-04-30 08:46 am
Attempt 14; Eclair, emporte-moi!
[For Julian and then Ethan]
She’s done. She’s finished. She’s absolutely and completely finished with the Barge. There are new arrivals, the one who said he was unprotected, and no one mentioned how absolutely absurd it is that he should even say it. Everyone is walking through the corridors, living their lives, while others languish behind the walls of their cabins. And for the first time, Justine is seeing the hurt, the wretched, the aching, as people. Her Max, her angel, doesn’t deserve this.
Unfortunately, no one in Justine’s life had ever taught her to deal with her sadness and her grief in a productive way. She was either supposed to shut it down or take it out on other people. The lesser folk. The peasants.
The aristocracy can't do wrong. They choose the right and wrong. It's a lesson she leans into, she reminds herself of, as she sharpens the end of her paintbrushes against the edge of her desk, of her fireplace.
She carries a few with her as she wanders out of her room. She keeps them tight in her hands and her dress up the stairs. And she spots Julian first. A doctor, she knows. Someone people will care about.
Someone, she thinks, who will know what to do to keep himself from dying.
She jumps down on him from a few steps up, aiming a pointed end of the paintbrush into the soft place above his clavicle.
[Video]
[Justine appears on the screen, her face smeared with blood, wispy tendrils of her hair plastered almost artfully along scarlet cheeks. There are no tears in her wide eyes, and only a haughty snarl touches her lips.
Notably, anyone who was on her filter by her choice is now off. She knows she has limited time until they get her. She needs time to say her part.]
How long has it been since you forgot those who were hurt? Who were killed?
How long does it take for you to move on, to stop feeling, to numb yourselves to the horrors you face here?
Perhaps you all needed a reminder? [She laughs an ugly laugh.] I don't think they're dead, but here, death can be a mercy.
Count the days until the sadness and the anger fade. Count the days until you have forgotten what happened, until you accept it as normal. You will know the measure of your morality then.
[She looks to her door and shuts off the feed.]
Private; text
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Leave me alone, Malcolm.
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private
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Simply tired.
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Video
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Private;
Who are you angry about, dove?
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Should have skipped the stairmaster
He'd started at 0 and was making his way up when somewhere above he heard a disturbing noise, the sound of a scuffle. It gets him to take the stairs faster, hand at his hip for his stun gun as he climbs another flight, but when he finally reaches the platform for level one and catches a glimpse of blood on the floor his foot catches and he stumbles up.
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She's maneuvered in her basement enough to count footsteps and escape in the darkness. So it's no difficult feat for her to launch herself at him, aiming one paintbrush for his neck and another for his side.
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private
Justine? Justine. What- are you okay? What just happened?
[ And then her message comes through and he's going to search for-
Goddammit. The message cuts there as he goes. ]
Telepathic, about a minute after
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Video | Private
Justine, you don't sound all right. What's happened?
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Private/spam
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Save your breath. I do not wish to speak with anyone beyond what has been said.
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Audio
She cackles.]
Fuck yeah!
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Jussy! You're having fun without me!
[ And it's ruuude! ]
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Spam
He steps in, hair in some disarray, but his entire countenance just looks - tired, resigned, sad.
"I'd like you to tell me who and where, please."
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"Go away!" she all but shouts at him.
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Private Audio
All that blood belong ta someone else?
[People will come for her and whoever it is that she's hurt; this is just the cycle. It's her wellbeing that he's more interested in at the moment. Sweeney sounds...vaguely chill about everything. Almost caring, in a weird way.]
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None of it is mine.
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text >> audio
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I have grown tired of these people taking their happiness for granted.
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private
Or do you let them live inside of you?
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I really didn't, no. [ He avoided broadcasting from his cabin, for the glitch. Right now, a room that looks at home in the Nine Hells very much serves his point.
(The googly eyes on Asmodeus's portrait undermine it slightly. He forgot about those, in the heat of the moment.) ]
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[In Norton's opinion, he's required to take up any opportunity to needle Justine.]
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video;
Even longer beforehand to decide if he should say anything or simply let it go. He knows how people can be when they're angry like this. They don't want to listen, or hear anything except their own hurt. His Julie has such a temper, sometimes... It's familiar.
So he takes a breath. He tries.]
A-are you hurt?
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He's not paying attention to the sounds of footsteps and the swish of skirts nearby. She catches him completely off-guard.
With a cry that's equal parts surprise and pain, he falters on the stairs, grabbing the railing with the opposite hand from the side that's abruptly gushing blood to keep himself from tumbling down the staircase. Now his wartime instincts kick in as he tries to stumble away from - who is that? isn't that Katie's friend? Justine, yes, that's her name - from Justine, fumbling for his phaser with the hand that's already beginning to feel numb. Oh, she aimed well, he has to give her that. Going right for a major artery with her - what is that, is that a paintbrush? - no, no time for that now, because he knows exactly how much blood he's losing with each second that passes and it's an extremely troubling number.
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She's not anticipating another person so close behind, but it's the price she pays for making noise.
She can get back to her cabin, though. She can do that much.
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[private video]
...and who has she lost? Cloud pays enough attention to know that a lot of people have been hurt or killed lately, but he doesn't really know specifics. He keeps to himself, mostly, as he's always done, and it's at least in part to keep from despairing at it all. But he knows things happen, and he knows he can't be the one to try to stop them from happening. For so many reasons.
He still wants to, though. All the time.
His expression when he calls her hovers somewhere between hard and soft, frustrated and sad. His voice is quiet. Their reactions are completely opposite, but the core of her feelings is something he's felt, too, for a long time. It's part of the reason he's here.]
Justine...what happened?
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It's all so terrible.
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Private audio, a day later
Are you still feeling better?
[There's no sarcasm or archness in his tone. He knows very well what it is to push the pain outside of you and onto somebody else, and how it works fleetingly. when it works at all.]
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Private; after Jedao's post
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The apology you gave me awhile ago doesn't mean nearly as much if people still aren't people to you. Not unless they're members of the group you deem important enough to value their lives. It seems like everyone else is still just useful tools to prove your point.
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Who did you hurt?
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I don't wish to talk to you about my reasons if you aren't going to listen.
I told Jedao and they are being taken care of.
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I am asking.
But I also hurt people.
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audio
You dumbass; what did you do?
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