[ASTA HQ] Soothe The Hurt [Cordy]

BEING LOCKED INSIDE MADE THE TWINS WASPISH. While Sonya and Atalanta were cunning enough to keep their thoughts to themselves, the other staff that circulated around the penthouse were not so skilled. So, as the metaphorical shit hit the fan and the dead rose once again, Ayame and Suzume knew of it as soon as one of the maids came to check-on them. The maid’s mouth offered the twins fine cuts of beef, but the maid’s mind worried about the wellbeing of her mistress and the presence of the dead on the streets below.

The chaos in villain chat only confirmed that things had gone sideways—Sunaho urged them to stay inside—hell, even Thunder was concerned that the girls would be out there.

Naturally, if everyone wanted them to stay inside “where it was safe”, the girls wanted to be outside. Simply for the sake of being contrarian. But the doors were locked, and some of the more foolhardy maids made sure that the twins didn’t go near them. Sonya’s orders. What was worse, Primula didn’t even seem to care.

So the two infuriated mutant sisters stayed on the patio surrounding the pool, soaking-in the sun, and periodically peering over the ledge to the streets below, where the dead shambled thoughtlessly as if in parade. No Sonya, though. The twins would deign to admit that they were looking for Sonya. That they were worried. If anyone asked—and if they could speak—they would say that they just wanted to go out. That Sonya was just another guardian in a line of failed-guardians. Waiting to also fail.

They’d lie and say that they weren’t worried, because she was no different from any of the others.

But they’d still press themselves against the railing, vines whipping in the wind, looking for her in-between swims in the pool.

The swarms of undead had thinned to almost nothing, and the sun had sunk low, paining the sky pink and orange, when the door to the penthouse opened. The twins had long since left the waters of the pool, and were soaking in the last bit of sun in their cover-ups and swimsuits—they sat at attention at the noise.

Atalanta.

Sonya.

The two got to their feet, which smacked against the patio as they rushed inside. They paused in the doorway, bobbling hesitantly. The Sonya they knew was usually so full of vigor and artifice—thoughts silent, face smiling. Ayame and Suzume knew her power, and respected it, but they did not trust her. This Sonya… felt more real, somehow. Perhaps it was the sorrow that was written across her feature.

Perhaps it is an imposter, Suzume thought wryly to her sister, one that wears Sonya’s face but is not.

Ayame moved reluctantly closer, like a deer entering into an open field. They still remained next to one another, hesitant to approach.

If this is not Sonya, then why is Atalanta with her? The shrewder of the two reprimanded her sister. Suzume looked contrite under the power of Ayame’s scowl.

They kept a respectable distance, their orange, hawklike eyes peeling into the pair, scouring for answer.

In a few moments, their spores would likely reach Sonya, laying bare any thoughts she wanted to share with their honeyed scent. Once Sonya was lowered onto the couch, Atalanta moved towards them, her head bowed respectfully.

“Chernova-sama lost someone precious to her, years ago…” the butler murmured to the pair, “Loki brought a ‘fake’ them back just to hurt her… and she had to destroy them. So she is… mourning.”

The twins glanced at the butler, then to one another, then to Sonya. Loss…

The forever sleep, Ayame muttered.

Like our parents, in the fire, Suzume agreed.

They nodded their heads, their expressions solemn. Suzume patted Atalanta’s shoulder. They understood. With that, the two stepped around her, treading closer to Sonya, drinking in her appearance. Should they leave her be? Hide until the old Sonya returned? Or investigate further?

Ayame and Suzume strode closer until they were immediately next to Sonya, Ayame taking the lead. The more cerebral sister crept closer until her knees were almost touching Sonya’s… and assuming there was no adverse, negative reaction to the proximity, Ayame would reluctantly extend a hand towards the crown of Sonya’s head.

ft. sonya chernova

quirk: e-rank plant physiology, hivemind, telepathy; f-rank knife-fighting, mobility

ooc notes:

THE ARRIVAL OF THE TWINS at Sonya’s side was heralded by the honeyed scent of their spores. And, as the spores made their way into Sonya’s lungs, into her blood, into her nervous system, Ayame and Suzume would begin to listen. Really listen. Sure, they had heard Sonya’s outer “voice” plenty of times, but the inner voice was something completely foreign.

And though her mind lay prone to the twins, there was… nothing there. It wasn’t like when people shut them out—Sonya was exhausted and dismayed. A sorrow so deep that thoughts couldn’t do it justice.

When Sonya cleaved onto Ayame’s hand, the girl winced, startled. She had meant to smooth Sonya’s hair down, to reassure her, but… maybe even in grief, they were supposed to stay at arm’s length?

But no, there was the quietest thought that crossed her mind. A plea for proximity. “Please.”

Ayame and Suzume had each other. But… in this moment, Sonya had no one.

And honestly, that was an easy plea to answer. They lost nothing, in their answer.

The tension crept out of Ayame’s shoulders, and she quietly clasped her two hands around Sonya’s own, squeezing her hand ever so slightly. Then, slowly and deliberately, she stepped to one side and took a seat next to Sonya, perched on the couch so that her knees bumped against their guardian’s thigh.



Was Sonya reassuring them, or herself? Regardless, Suzume followed her sister’s suit, sinking onto the cushion on Sonya’s open side before clasping Sonya’s unclaimed hand in her own, and squeezing it lightly.

Never seen her like this, Suzume remarked. Still it is strange.

Her telepathic voice was quiet, respectfully lowered, even if Sonya wasn’t patched-in to their shared consciousness at the moment. Minds were funny like that, sometimes.

Well, we have never seen her lose someone, Ayame retorted, her voice also low.

Should Sonya ask, either girl would gladly patch her in to the neural network… but to offer such a thing seemed irreverent, given the situation? There was also a notepad on the table, accompanied by a thick pencil, wherein one of the girls had clearly been practicing her hiragana. This could pose an alternative to psychically communicating.

They were equally content to just sit in silence, though. Whatever their caretaker preferred.

It is very sad, Suzume remarked.

ft. sonya chernova

quirk: e-rank plant physiology, hivemind, telepathy; f-rank knife-fighting, mobility

ooc notes: