eachdraidh | video; memory, cw for implied death

[ She's fighting. The demons came out from nowhere, turning on them and attacking and there's no way they can fight against all of them but they're going to try. There's an Asian girl off to her side, fighting with a sword, a boy with curly hair off to the other, and Allison is lobbing arrows, but they're doing nothing.

The boy with curly hair falls to his knees.

Allison shouts, abandoning her fight to come to his rescue, using her bow as a melee weapon. She knocks the demons away from him, and then hesitates, pulling out an arrow with a special tip.

She fires. It hits. The demon falls, vanishing into black smoke, dead. Allison feels pride.

And then something sharp impales her. There's no time to register it, not really, what happened, and she collapses, dropping her bow and putting her hands to her stomach.

Everything looks grey. It's the hazy dream fog kind of grey, where all the color is almost completely seeped out of everything, leaving just enough of it to register that it's not supposed to be black and white. She's lying down, on someone's lap, and his face is blurry but she can see someone who her friends will register as Scott McCall. It's perfect, she's saying, dying in the arms of my first love, it's perfect, but it's not and it never will be.

The color starts to fade a little more.

Scott's telling her something, telling her he can't take her pain, and Allison replies that it's because it doesn't hurt, not anymore, please tell my father, please tell him that—

There's a distant scream. Lydia, she thinks, and she's sorry, so sorry—

It fades to black. ]

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( Lydia just... stares. She stares. Deep down she knew it, she felt it, when Allison died. She hears herself scream. Scott had eventually told her what happened, but seeing it like this... Her mouth is open wide and her hand is covering it and her eyes well with tears, and she wants to scream all over again. She feels it welling up inside of her. And they'd just reached a good point with her accepting Allison's death... sort of, anyway. )

[ well shit. Of all the people who she never wanted to see something like this!? ] Lydia—

Don't. ( She can't. She can't hear words right now. All she can hear is the sound of her best friend's body hitting the ground. Echoing, over and over and over. )

[ So she doesn't. Allison opens her mouth to respond and then closes it, shutting the feed off. ]

You are a strong fighter. [Not past tense. Present. She is talking to the girl, and she can see from the memory how the girl moves, how she was proud of the kill. She protected, she fought. She was strong, and still is.]

Forgive me. I should not have watched, but I felt I must say my peace.

['Sorry' is too hollow of a word, and she refuses to pity someone as strong as Allison, but the tone is in her voice. If only since she fears what death is, her brother so close to it.]

I'm not. [ She says it flatly, and she's not up for video right now, sorry. ] And it's fine. I guess everyone saw it.

There is more than one way to lose. You fight better than many I've seen. [Granted what she knows of fighting is mostly guerrilla tactics.] Elegantly.

[ There's a moment of silence while Allison purses her lips and swallows down any kind of self deprecation that she'd like to spout. This person doesn't deserve to hear it. ] I still need to practice.

[ Okay, maybe not all of it. ]

Even the most skilled must practice to remain so. [A pause.]

Your bow, it looks... advanced.

[ It takes her a second to realize that she means the bow seen in the memory. ] It's just a recurve bow.

The look of it is nice. I am only used to wooden bows.

I haven't ever really used just wooden ones before.

If ever you have time, I could show you.

Would it be different?

We have no bows like yours where I am from, but wood is softer than metal, to give some leave. But then I'm sure the strength in yours would cause a better aim.

Well, the one I was using there is fiberglass, not metal... [ She sounds a little confused. ] The power comes in the draw, so they're probably about the same?

You use... Glass? [Fiberglass has not yet been invented in Westeros.]

No, it's a kind of plastic. Lightweight, and more durable.

My pardons. I am still learning many things here, things not yet afforded to me back home.

It's fine. [ There's a hint of a smile there. ] If you want, you can try it out sometime?

I would like that.

Next time I'm at the castle, then.

I look forward to it then.

[To anyone else, it's a sad sight to behold. Or at least, Peter's sure it must be. It's a grim thing to watch, but it's satisfying to watch. Allison's nothing like Kate, of course, but the connection still has Peter's blood boiling at the best of times. No one ever said he wasn't petty. No one ever said he didn't hold a grudge.

He smiles. It looks quick. He imagines Chris' face and something purrs, sated in his chest. ]

You must be so glad that woke up here, Allison. Being dead really isn't all it's cracked up to be.

[He'd know. ]

[ There are a lot of things she'd like to say to him. But only one thing comes out. ]

Fuck. You.

There's no need for profanity.

[ She's hanging up on you now. ]

video; memory, cw for implied death

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