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[The Handmaid had finally achieved her only goal after millenia--she'd finished her job ane been released from her contract, and the Condesce had killed her. She'd thought it would be a relief. She hadn't been expecting an afterlife, but even nothing would have been better than serving Lord English.
Unfortunately, nothing had changed. In fact, she didn't even know she was dead. Her life just replayed over and over and over again, and she still longed for death. She listened to Doc Scratch ramble on about the other ancestors, repeating himself until she had the stories memorized and they became mind numbing. Of course, when she didn't listen carefully enough, or Doc Scratch just thought she wasn't, he would punish her. His favorite trick was teleporting her onto the Condesce's ship until the lack of air made her pass out. Unfortunately, immortality didn't mean that she was immune to the adverse affects of his punishments, just that she couldn't die from them.
Lord English was much less elegant, and much harder to please. If he wanted her unconscious, he would simply slam her against a wall and choke her until her head swam and her lungs screamed and her only thought was of air. He wasn't nearly as picky about leaving marks, either, but after centuries of such treatment, she'd learned that allowing it and fighting back as little as possible often made him relent more quickly.
But the worst was when she was trapped in Doc Scratch's mansion, when Lord English had no use for her at the moment. She would pace, impatient, listening to the little puppet ramble on and on and critique her manners and patronize her endlessly. Unlike in her childhood, she no longer shows her rage so openly--there's no point. But in the mansion, all alone, with Lord English and Doc Scratch both off doing something assuredly stupid, she paces the rooms and daydreams about ripping the entire place apart.]
Unfortunately, nothing had changed. In fact, she didn't even know she was dead. Her life just replayed over and over and over again, and she still longed for death. She listened to Doc Scratch ramble on about the other ancestors, repeating himself until she had the stories memorized and they became mind numbing. Of course, when she didn't listen carefully enough, or Doc Scratch just thought she wasn't, he would punish her. His favorite trick was teleporting her onto the Condesce's ship until the lack of air made her pass out. Unfortunately, immortality didn't mean that she was immune to the adverse affects of his punishments, just that she couldn't die from them.
Lord English was much less elegant, and much harder to please. If he wanted her unconscious, he would simply slam her against a wall and choke her until her head swam and her lungs screamed and her only thought was of air. He wasn't nearly as picky about leaving marks, either, but after centuries of such treatment, she'd learned that allowing it and fighting back as little as possible often made him relent more quickly.
But the worst was when she was trapped in Doc Scratch's mansion, when Lord English had no use for her at the moment. She would pace, impatient, listening to the little puppet ramble on and on and critique her manners and patronize her endlessly. Unlike in her childhood, she no longer shows her rage so openly--there's no point. But in the mansion, all alone, with Lord English and Doc Scratch both off doing something assuredly stupid, she paces the rooms and daydreams about ripping the entire place apart.]
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There was more than one time?
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Yes. [There were, in fact, more times then he could count]
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I'm sorry.
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[...he says this quite sadly though! There were things he saw there that... he never wanted to see. That he wishes he could forget. He keeps feeling like he should've been able to wake her up sooner, saved her from it at least in the afterlife, but... he just couldn't...]
[Starts running his fingers through her hair, trying to get himself off that train of thought]
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You shouldn't have seen it.
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It's. Fine. I'm glad I know...
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How much did you see?
[Everything, probably, but she doesn't really want to hear that.]
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[...wow it's been awhile since he stuttered like that. Sighs a little, but stays close]
All of it, I think. [No, he knows, but trying to sound unsure might soften the blow]
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You should hate me.
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[He takes a deep breath before he speaks again, pressing his lips against her bare shoulder for a moment. This? It hurts to say this, but he has to]
You had no choice.
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That doesn't change anything.
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[It changes everything, Coleta, please don't do this]
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The things you do under coercion do not define you, Coleta. And we're all dead anyway. It's past us.
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I'm sorry.
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Stop. I forgave you a long time ago... And then I realized there wasn't anything to forgive in the first place. [Yeah he's... had a... while to come to terms with all of this!!!! And he has. It isn't even a thing to him anymore...]
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Is it okay if we stay here a little longer?
[She doesn't mean here, specifically, in this weird made up location. She means being all cuddly and gross.]
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Of course. We've got all the time in the world. [LSDKJF teasing on this second part, trailing his claws along her skin again]
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[WHY IS HE SMIRKING LIKE THAT. She's still not totally used to this okay!]
What?
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Don't act so smug.
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