|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jul 1, 2015 19:47:17 GMT -5
"They are calling her the Black Widow," the newscaster reported over the radio station. "A woman aligned with the German army in this devastating war of the world with deadly abilities has made her move once again. Believed to be working in hiding amongst her squadron, she is the most devastating thing to happen to any opposing the Germans since the war began." A picture of her backside with a slight glimpse of the side of her face appeared to show people a basic outline of her body. "Her full appearance is not clear to us at this time, but she is undoubtedly a major threat to our men - having taken out nearly seventy-five people in a matter of about four months."
She had heard that newscaster, and had she not been whipped into submission for the war, she would have broken down into tears at the monster she had become. Now, though, she felt a few hot tears begin to streak her cheeks as she took another much needed pull from her cigarette to let slowly drift from her lips.
"You think family against family war is bad?" She leaned against her desk, head hanging low as her gaze dropped to the floor. Looking at the two of them was becoming increasingly difficult, especially as she came closer to revealing her identity to them. She hadn't revealed it to anyone since escaping the war, and it wouldn't surprise her if the two of them tried to kill her immediately for her crimes against humanity. "This 'war' is nothing, even if you think it is. But war changes people. Makes them bad. Makes them do things."
She couldn't fight the tears any longer, and they became steadier in their downpour as she looked up to the two men once more. "I fight in war... Against will, but I.." She took in a deep, shaky breath before slowly releasing it. "I don't want you to turn bad... Don't want you to be called 'Black Widow' or worse.. Like me."
|
|
|
|
Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 1, 2015 20:03:08 GMT -5
River snatched the cigarette quickly, lighting it up magically. He was glad he offered him some because his own was wasted by Nixie, his poor pitiful death stick lay littered on the floor. It hadn't even lasted long, it only lasted one long drag. That one marvelous long drag. But now its time to move on from that to more pressing matters at hand. River took a long drag, trying to listen to the woman who was currently...
Wait, what?
River hadn't been in the war, luckily enough. His Uncle Enzo was, and that whole love story shit that Aunt Vitalia would drone on and on about. He could tell the same story in the same words. The war had been hard on most people, and he definitely knew about the Black Widow,that moniker of a person who had managed to become the most dangerous of the Germans. That same one that made headlines almost every week. Now he was the one that felt somehow lied to, "What do you mean?" River asked with a whisper, about to take another drag but his fingers stopped midway.
Well, fuck.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jul 1, 2015 20:24:35 GMT -5
Pietro scoffed. "The Black Widow? So you are telling us you are the boogey-man. The Loch Ness monster. Santa Claus, perhaps?"
He had heard all the news reports, and he simply didn't believe them. It stretched credibility to the point of absurdity. In Pietro's opinion, the mythical "Black Widow" was simply that - a myth. An amalgam of frightening attacks, hallucinating soldiers, and the image of a foolish woman trying to play soldier. There was no such thing. The "Black Widow" was a propaganda figure. The "Black Widow" had been invented to strike fear and doubt in the hearts of enemies.
After all, it was too perfect. A woman who took out seventy-five soldiers in four months? Ludicrous.
"River, do not be so credulous. The Black Widow never existed."
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jul 1, 2015 20:38:29 GMT -5
Pietro's disbelief in her made her angry all over again, and if she managed to slip out of her right mind and into oblivion, she knew she would probably snap his neck with no questions asked. "You think it cannot be true because I am woman, yes?" Her eyes turned hateful all over again, and she was glaring harshly back at the shorter twin. "You are ignorant fool, Pietro. Hypocrite in what you preach. 'Protect' women, yet torture student and refuse to believe woman can destroy you if she wishes... Misogynistic bastard."
She had no filter with her words, and she didn't regret a single syllable that she muttered. Her hand reached back behind her desk - making sure neither of them could see what she was grabbing - and into one of the drawers. There was a throwing star in it in case she needed it for something, and this seemed to be an appropriate time. There was a symbol of the German side of the war etched into the star in addition to the name "Auttenberg."
In one fluid, almost impossibly quick motion, she brought her arm over to fling the star towards Pietro - hitting him square in the left shoulder when it sliced through his clothes and flesh as if they were made of butter. "Only reason jugular was not hit is because I like you," she told him flatly, taking a final drag of her cigarette before stomping it out into the floor. "I am trying to warn you both because I care, but you should also stop so that I do not become enemy." Her words were unwavering and somewhat cold. "Because if you hurt students again, you answer to me. Leave them out of bullshit family war."
|
|
|
|
Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 1, 2015 21:01:00 GMT -5
River winced as he saw the star, he managed to catch the name as it flew to Pietro. It flew too fast, and thus could not protect him. He felt himself deflate a little bit, dishonor on him for not protecting the heir... He was supposed to, and was failing his job in just this one night already. It was truly fucked up, because now slowly he was ripped on who to really believe. Despite the evidence that Nixie had brought, Pietro... he just had to believe him. Because Pietro always believed him, and he did make a point. Was the Black Widow really just a myth? What if it was her father's star? River didn't know.
He stood still where he was, taking another drag to clear his head off. He honestly didn't want to tell her that it wasn't any of their call to stop what they were doing. Between brainwashed and concerned for his life, there wasn't really anything the twins could do at this point. Especially since Enzo Antonucchi was the headmaster, under his very watchful eye, the twins were definitely his biggest weapons. The ones that were completely and utterly brainwashed with little to no hope.
And the only thing River wanted to do was shoot himself at this point, torn between the truth and his brother, there were things he was reluctant to accept, sure. But this? This was just to awfully confusing, because he was a monster, and Nixie didn't know that. She treated him as if he was a human, as if he was salvageable. But the truth is, River knew that he was born a monster, everyone treated him like one, every one made sure he knew he was one. But Nixie... he was human with her. Not a monster.
|
|
|
|
Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jul 1, 2015 21:29:01 GMT -5
Quick as lightning, there was a terrible pain biting into his shoulder. Pietro looked down at the throwing star, took a deep breath, and tugged it out in one unflinching movement. He cast a cursory glance at the inscription, tossed it casually onto the desk across the row from the one he was sitting on, then used his hand to stanch the blood flow. "So, you are a badass. You have already proven this. But millions of soldiers fought who were not the 'Black Widow,' and gifts with my name on them do not prove the existence of Santa Claus.
"You two are welcome to continue this ... conversation, if it can be called such ... but I find myself tiring of it. I believe I shall leave before I do something I will regret in the morning."
With that, the incredibly pissed-off Pietro took his leave.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jul 5, 2015 14:42:08 GMT -5
The ignorance that was permeating the air from each breath that left Pietro's mouth was only enraging her further. Such a foolish, stupid, and prideful man stood before her, causing Nixie to roll her eyes at his mannerisms. "You are arrogant man, Pietro. Ignorant and prideful," she told him with a shake of her head. She crossed the room to collect her throwing star from the desk he had so carelessly tossed it to before returning to her desk. She slipped it back into the drawer from which she retrieved it and looked back to him. "But yes, leaving for you is good."
The man exited the room, leaving behind just her and his brother. Nixie let out a long, heavy sigh as she averted her gaze from River. She ignited another cigarette and took a drag long enough to take down a camel and allowed it to reside in her lungs for a solid twenty seconds or so before finally being released through her nostrils. She didn't say a single word as she reached into her blouse, pulling out a single set of dog tags and removing it from around her neck. She stepped away from her desk and towards this medium-sized black wardrobe in the corner of her room that was locked with a heavy-duty magic.
"Do you remember death count?" She asked River, her back turned on him. "How many people Black Widow killed?" Three hundred and thirty seven was her final death toll, not including her own squadron she had eliminated. They didn't need to be counted as humans anyway. Her hand ran down the wardrobe in an intricate pattern - sending off clicking and unlatching noises as she did so - before finally unlocking. But she didn't open it. Not yet.
|
|
|
|
Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 5, 2015 17:58:35 GMT -5
Pietro... well he was a case, he'd never seen his brother act so rude. It was as if they switched places, really. It seemed like Pietro pulled a River on Nixie. Was this what River looked like all the time? Shit, well that was a sort of a wake-up call. But then again, everyone can fuck off. River looked at the dark-haired professor back away from her desk and to a black wardrobe of a good size. He figured it had something really important inside, he just had a feeling about it. But of course, he could be wrong.
River thought about it, it almost seemed long ago when he read the newspapers with the 'Black Widow' headlines, and it took a while for him to remember what was the death toll of the entity. "Three hundred..." he tilted his head and took a drag, leaning against the wall, "Thirty seven?" It was just a guess, but he figured he was wrong but estimated to the number anyways. Sometimes there were times where he should have taught Arthrimancy of Divination, ironically he didn't believe in the future-telling bullshit. If he wanted to know the future, he'll get to it soon enough, that was his way of looking at it.
He watched her as she moved her hand in intricate motions, hearing clicking and some more annoying sounds, assuming the wardrobe wasn't fully unlocked yet. There had to be more if she really wanted it locked, right? Either ways, it caught River's attention as he smoked, only now starting to feel how broken his jaw was. He'd fix that later, it didn't hurt that much, River had gotten used to pain, he learned how to deal with it. It was just seemingly another sensation in his skin, his bones, his organs... He had outgrown pain.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jul 5, 2015 19:49:46 GMT -5
"Your memory is good," she said quietly, her eyes still focused on the wardrobe. It stung to hear him quote her death toll, forcing her to realize just how very public her life in the war had been made. Everyone had heard her story, and the media had managed to keep a completely accurate death toll on her that swept across the world as common knowledge. "Three-hundred and thirty seven is correct." She bit her lip, biting back years worth of tears as she pulled her wand from her pocket and tapped it in twenty-three specific places on the wardrobe before it finally revealed itself. Even if one of her taps was a fraction of a centimeter off, the wardrobe would not open - making it impossible for anyone other than herself to gain access to what it contained.
The two doors slowly opened themselves to display its contents, but they were blocked from view due to Nixie's shadow being cast inside. "I kept all of them," she began, her voice beginning to crack as tears began streaming down her face. "Keep them to remind of horror. Of bad decisions." It wasn't until then that she stepped away from the wardrobe, allowing the moonlight to illuminate the dog tags that hung inside. Each set was positioned on its own tiny hook - painting the walls and insides of the doors in silver plates. "Each man I killed... I took their tags.." She was sniffling now, stepping towards the window to peer out of it and making sure not to look at River.
"Pietro does not believe," she said with a shake of her head. "But, you can count dog tags if you wish... Three-hundred and thirty seven. All men who died in war. Trace each name, it will tell you they are deceased..."
|
|
|
|
Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 5, 2015 21:18:16 GMT -5
River looked surprised when he actually go the estimate right, feeling a better about it. He sighed, "I try," shaking his head somberly. He looked at the shadowy void of where something should be, and when it was illuminated by the light, that was when River had seen the dog tags. There were no doubt many, many dog tags hung with each owner dead. Dead as one can ever be, dead as they will be in the future for the years to come. All of them beautifully illuminated by the moonlight, holding ugly stories in contrast to the beauty it holds physically now.
River looked at her briefly then back to the tags, shaking his head disappointingly. She had her innocence taken away just like him, and River understood how that felt like. In a different way, of course. He looked at the tags intensely, "I don't get it, why do you keep those?" he took his final drag and discarded his cigarette in her floors, stepping on it. He didn't understand the concept of guilt that held the existence of the collected dog tags. He didn't understand guilt at all, and never really felt it except when he was facing this woman, Nixie. Guilt was a foreign thing to him, and was the cause for his confusion, well maybe not the whole cause (*wink wink*). It was one of the reasons why he felt confused all the time, questioning the ugly feeling on his mind and chest whenever Nixie was around. He didn't like it, and he didn't want to feel it again.
"It doesn't matter, dead people stay dead. It doesn't do good when you keep those things around, it makes you feel bad," River said, looking away to the side then down to his feet. "Its so earthly, keeping those things..." River really didn't know, he didn't know but he assumed his words should make her feel better, hopefully.
"Those people are dead, and will stay dead. Keeping dog tags brings them back alive when they should be dead. And the only thing they do is bring trouble."
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jul 5, 2015 21:58:08 GMT -5
He wasn't sure why she kept them, and she wasn't surprised. After all, who in their right mind would keep the dog tags of all of their victims? Wouldn't it be better for her to just trash them all and rid herself of the horrid memories? Create a new life for herself and move on?
No. She didn't deserve that. She had to remember them - each and every face that she obliterated - and their last words, usually something along the lines of, 'No, please. I have a family. Please don't do this!' She heard the voices in her sleep, ever pitch, every scream, every syllable. It was a constant reminder of what she had done, in addition to the dog tags, and it was her own personal form of self punishment. "I keep them to remember," she said as she stepped back towards the wardrobe, hanging up the set of tags she had removed from her person. She hung them on the only vacant hook and then grabbed the next in line. She observed the information:
Gregory James Wells
DOB: December 19, 1897
United States Army
Then, draping them around her neck, she re-sealed the wardrobe and looked to him for the first time as he spoke. "You don't understand," she said as her face finally fell, liters of water beginning to pour from her eyes. "They're dead because of me. I killed them. They did not deserve," she sobbed, clenching her fist and slamming it down on her desk. Why didn't she just die? Why didn't she let them kill her? Instead of morphing into the machine they made her? "I deserve to remember. I was bad. So I live with decisions. New dog tag every day, remembering soldier. Cycle through and start over again."
|
|
|
|
Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 5, 2015 22:22:26 GMT -5
River listened quietly, letting her express with what little emotion she had. With her feelings out in the open now. He sighed inwardly, listening to her as she started to sob. Guilt, even then supposed 'Black Widow' succumbed to it, even he did for her. But unlike her, he was still new to the concept. Even now he was still unaware of it. River didn't know what to say to the sobbing woman, he wasn't good with comforting women, unless it involved sex, now he was plenty good at that. But River was smart enough to understand that sex wasn't what Nixie needed, not at all. It was too depressing to even have sex right now, but he could make do with the conditions if he tried hard enough. Sex appeal is the best appeal to a distressed woman.
"No one needs to remember. Its unnecessary, especially if its a way to torment yourself for their deaths. Hurting yourself won't do you good. It won't do the dead any good," he shook his head at her. "Its useless to do so, the best thing to do is give them a proper burial," River murmured to the woman. "The Black Widow doesn't exist in this school anymore, nor was she ever here in the first place. She might be in the war zone. Left behind in Germany," he started, looking up at the woman straight to her eyes, "But Nixie Auttenberg is here, standing in front of me, holding guilt for Black Widow that she doesn't deserve to hold," River never broke eye contact, and he wanted her to register his words and take it seriously.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jul 5, 2015 23:40:05 GMT -5
Unnecessary? It was completely necessary; didn't he see that? That she didn't deserve happiness and deserved to feel all the pain in the world for all of the pain she had inflicted upon others? Most of the deaths she had executed hadn't been quick and easy - a majority of them had been slow, painful, and downright agonizing. "But I..." She choked on a sob, forcing a series of coughs to emit from her mouth. "I deserve pain, River," she said once she composed herself again. And it was true. She deserved everything bad that would ever happen to her - including the hate she now inspired in Pietro. Even River should hate her, but from the way he was speaking, it didn't seem that he did.
But then, he began to tell her that she wasn't the Black Widow any longer. In his eyes, she was herself - Nixie Auttenberg - and the same girl she had grown to be before being abducted into warfare. He was right that she left that alias behind when she finally got out of the war, and she felt even more tears begin to bubble from her eyes. And with a sudden desire for human contact, she broke out into a light run towards him and entangled her arms around the one and only man who didn't think she was an absolute monster for the things she had done. "River, I..." But she couldn't talk, all she could do was cling to him as a roar of sobs released itself into his chest.
|
|
|
|
Post by River Antonucchi on Jul 6, 2015 0:07:44 GMT -5
He didn't know it but his heart broke when she choked on her sobs, telling him she deserved pain. No one, not even she deserved pain, especially not her. Not the one who felt horrified for what she had done, the one who carried all the deaths in her tiny shoulders. Deaths of three hundred and thirty seven men, all lost and dead, she carried their souls. Every single one, all in heavy weight. River didn't even know how she handled it, all the guilt. He can't even handle that emotion, he didn't know what it felt like trying to feel bad for a death. For him, it was to execute the most painful death for business and for pleasure. She did it because she was forced to, she was made to.
River widened his eyes a bit as she lightly ran over to him and hugged him? It didn't occur to him because he didn't know that Nixie NEVER cried, he didn't know that she was devoid of emotions for so long, and now he said some things to emit tears from this wonderful lady. It took him an awkward while to wrap his arms around her. So foreign, he didn't hug women not even in sex, no hugs from his brother too because... Well he was Pietro, he didn't do hugs either. And mother? Yeah, no hugsies from her either, nasty bitch.
He slightly and weirdly patted her hair, supposedly it comforted people? It seemed natural to do, he didn't say anything for a while, letting her cry first, "Shh... you don't need to say anything right now," he didn't think she would be able to either. And he really didn't know why his pretty and amazing words had that much effect on her. Sure he wanted her to take it seriously, but he didn't think she'd take it this seriously.
River looked down at Nixie as she sobbed in his arms, he sighed mentally. If she everyone called her a monster then, what was he now? The devil itself? It was a sad thought...
|
|
|
|
Post by Nixie Auttenberg on Jul 6, 2015 0:33:01 GMT -5
Nixie felt a huge relief as River's arms wound around her. She hadn't been hugged since she was seventeen years old, and going that long without a hug was downright torture - especially given the fun-loving, kind, and generous girl Nixie had been back then. She was always an affectionate person, despite how difficult it was for her to open up and show emotions nowadays. Her experiences had changed her, and this moment was her true personality finally cracking through the barrier it had built up around her.
He told her that she didn't need to speak, and even if she wanted to, there was no way that she could. All she could do right now was focus on the comfort River was bringing to her and hug him even tighter. Her sobs were uncontrollable - letting out emotions that had been bottled up for seven years - and beginning to drench her face, hair, and River's shirt.
After a few moments, she pulled back some and wiped at her eyes in a futile attempt to keep them dry, but they just kept coming. "I'm sorry," she choked out, shaking her head. "I crossed line. Not professional." She sighed out, still only a couple feet in front of him. "You... You don't have to stay. Is late, and you need rest."
|
|
