Black Winged Solace [Delilah]

[Delilah A. Black]

"...I look like I 'need' coffee..?"

Delilah blinked at this almost...impudent question. It was almost as though Kiyr was being defensive. Slightly worried (and not at all taking offense,though her concern grew), the raven haired woman shook her head, "No reason in particular...there's just something about a warm cup between your hands..." she trailed off with a shrug.

Delilah continued to watch the young woman as the hectic sense she got from her quickened and then slowed. She seemed to be in the midst of making a decision, like two sides of the girl were fighting eachother. Patiently, she waited.

"...I suppose--I could sit..?"

Delilah's smile widened as she pushed herself away from the desk. Beckoning to Kiyr with a nod of her head, Delilah padded back a little ways behind her desk...to an extremely worn out looking greyish-pink couch that had bullet holes in it. Though it did look comfy...

Delilah would plop down at one end rather unceremoniously and let her weary bones stretch for a moment, nodding for Kiyr to take the opposite side. Once (or if) Kiyr was settled, Delilah would look Kiyr over out of the corner of her eyes, thinking.

Whatever had brought the young woman here was either not very urgent or something that disturbed Kiyr greatly; her distress was apparent.

"So...to what do I owe the pleasure?"

[Kyrie Blaze]

Warmth between her hands..? Kyrie blinked, almost bewildered. Delilah was right on that. Something warm between her hands could soothe, and so the blonde curved her shoulders inwards in a gesture that undoubtedly was a mix of shame and the sense she had been rebuked. It was not an overpowering gesture, however, and she did not flinch away from Delilah.

The smile was reassuring. It drew her in. She took a few steps, and because Delilah had smiled, did not bolt backwards when she flopped upon the couch, but paused for a moment or two, and then moved forwards again. The nod towards the end of the couch had the blonde sitting - or rather, perching - with the cat still coddled in her arms. Her fingers continued their slight, massaging strokes in her fur. It was probably more calming for Kyrie than it was for Aneko...but if the cat was not complaining, then it was a satisfactory exchange for the balm that it was for the young woman.

Delilah's question had her realizing she had asked once before, and Kyrie briefly looked at the floor before lifting her head. She had no clue how to say it. The simplest way of 'I was molested' was also the hardest as it was very direct. She didn't feel strong enough to face it head-on.

And then there was another complication.

The blonde's blue eyes went out of focus for several moments.

They were always the longest "moments" in her life. The reliving was intrusive, stopping her mid-activity and leaving her there to dangle and try to scramble back up onto the ledge once again. Moments on the outside, but internally, she lived through the entire thing once again. It wasn't the first situation she'd had this happen, but perhaps it was worse in some ways than the days she'd lost her family. When she did clamber back up out of the memory, she gave a slight jerk and began to work her jaw as though she would say something. Her eyes stung and burned, but so far, she did not break down.

Kyrie still didn't know how to say what she needed to say.

Casting her eyes once again to the floor, resuming the stroking motions of her fingers against the soft bundle of fur resting on her lap, she began speaking. It took a moment, and her words were quiet. She couldn't bring herself to look up for the few short words she spoke. Kyrie knew, instinctively, that there would be no revulsion on Delilah's face. It somehow made it more difficult that she knew she would only see sympathy - empathy - and care and concern.

Maybe she just couldn't bear to face it because her breakdown and complete vulnerability would soon follow. Maybe she couldn't face it because it hurt to know that even though Delilah meant a great deal to her - like David, Levi, and Mathew - that it was not her family that was there for her, though she carried them always closest to her heart.

"...how did you manage to cope after what those women did to you in the asylum..? ...I--I can not-- ...he..." She winced and curbed the words, literally giving a tiny flinch before her eyes zipped about the room. And slowly back once again. Just a tiny flicker upwards; a quick, bleak peek at the raven-haired woman.

[Delilah A. Black]

As Kiyr seated herself, the ragdoll curled up in the blonde's lap, quite satisfied. Delilah watched attentively as the young woman sat next to her...without actually sitting. The couch was definitely beneath her, but her position still reminded Delilah of prey-- ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Kiyr's distress was beginning to leech into her, putting her teeth on edge.

Having the girl's blue eyes glass over soon after she asked her question didn't help matters, only to return to her senses more furtive and anxious. Something was definitely wrong.

For a while, there was nothing except for Delilah's pleasant smile and Aneko's happy purring.

Finally, she spoke, in an uncertain, jarring voice that set off all of the mechanic's alarms.

"...how did you manage to cope after what those women did to you in the asylum..? ...I--I can not-- ...he..."

It happened so fast that Delilah almost couldn't contain the startled alarm and anger in her expression-- instead it became, as Kiyr guessed, one of surprise and deepest sympathy. Kiyr didn't have to say it. She should have noticed earlier. She was exhibiting all of the signs...


Delilah let out a small breath, resisting the urge to draw the small blonde woman--who looked even smaller with all this weight on her shoulders-- into a hug. She didn't need contact right now. Now, she needed help. And as much as Delilah wanted to console her (or to go and slaughter all those responsible for hurting this woman), right now she had to let Kiyr come to her own decisions. If she wanted a hug, she would indicate such. If she wanted to go on a rampage, Delilah would GLADLY help her. In a sense, she felt honoured that Kiyr had come to her about this...but it was bitter-sweet, a shared camaraderie that should never have been in the first place.

But this was about Kiyr. And right now, what she needed were the tools to cope with what had happened.

"...It's not something that's easy to get over," she said with a small, sorrowful sigh in her soft voice. "For a while, I bottled everything up, trying to fight the memories and the images in my mind. I wondered why, what did I do to make myself a target. It drained me. It almost killed me, even after I escaped.

"The first thing I did was accept what happened. Reaffirmed it. It happened, it was a thing, but I'm still here. I survived. Many women do not. Then I grieved. For myself, for all the other women who went through this...for them too. Because it takes a deranged, wandering soul to do that to another human. They don't deserve fear; they deserve pity.

"Then, I let the memories flow instead of stopping them. Let out the infection they left behind in that wound. Let it bleed. Lance it again when needed until scar tissue forms. A reminder, but no longer a detriment.

"But none of that would have been possible if I didn't remind myself that I had things to fight for and the love and support of the people I held most dear. But I had to let them be there. And, slowly, I began to trust again."

She watched Kiyr as she spoke, and as she finished, waited for her reaction.

And be there.

[Kyrie Blaze]

Up. Away. And up again at Delilah's small breath, Kyrie's brow drew together in furrows. It was hard to look up. To face it. She was partially glad Delilah didn't reach out to hug her. In that, she was certainly right. Eventually, the blonde would give in and show or tell Delilah what it was she needed the most. And she was also correct in that right now, she most needed aid in the form of advice.

Even though perhaps she may not have wanted to hear pieces in particular.

She nodded, almost automatically, at Delilah's beginning words. Block it out. Memories. Why. A choking sound worked its way out of her throat and the blonde cut it off. Accept. How--? Let the memories flow? They caused such pain now...could she stand to it if she let it freely go and do as they pleased? Would she not drown in them? Wasn't she already drowning?

Kyrie's hands curled into the soft, warm, fur, as though Aneko was an anchor. Yet for all wants and intents, that was exactly what the cat was.

Though she stopped the strangled sound, she couldn't control the tears that built in her eyes. Couldn't control the droplets as they welled and streaked down her cheeks to fall. The support and love of those she held dear...yes. That was one reason she was here, but...

"...some...some of the people I need here, with me, the most: my family, can not--" With a harsh swallow, she lifted her eyes to Delilah's and continued in a quiet voice. "...they are dead."

And Kyrie missed them so.

Her voice cracked despite all her effort to deliver it in a neutral tone. How was she even supposed to get through this? She was and wasn't afraid. She'd endured much. Not as much as Delilah or others in some aspects, but much all the same. But the road seemed much too long to traverse.

...alone.

So here she was.

The others she needed? David, Mathew, Levi? None of them knew she had come. Or to her knowledge, at least. Though she needed them she didn't know how to ask. She knew David and Levi both were wanting to help. At that point, however, she could not bear to give herself to them, to be so vulnerable even though she knew they would be the last people to hurt her in the way Mason had.

The blonde hiccuped and coiled her arms around the cat in her arms, on her lap, and bowed herself down, into a partial ball, as if it would make anything and everything better, even temporarily. When it didn't, she lifted her face to look at Delilah again, looking stricken and yet pleading. She knew Delilah couldn't revive the dead. Knew that she and Levi and David and Mathew and those connected to them were her family just as surely as her actual family was.

What was she silently asking for..?

Could she..? Kyrie drew in a ragged, broken breath and slid over. Just a little. Still uncertain, but, needing something that, suddenly, she knew she could handle. Because Delilah as well, would never hurt her in the way Mason had.

[Delilah A. Black]

The violent emotions playing about on Kiyr's normally stoic visage wrenched Delilah's heart painfully. She fought the tears and shine from her own eyes-- the pain, the frustration, the fear was so familiar and near her own soul that it was impossible to not be affected by it.

the only distraction was Aneko, who had opened her eyes and looked up at the blonde with feline disgust as Kiyr started crying on her fur. Not happy. She looked to Delilah with an expression that could only be described as incredulity: do you SEE what she's doing?!

The mechanic looked back at the cat with an aloof expression.I don't care, little miss. You put yourself there in the first place.

Aneko blinked in irritation and laid herself back down. Not liking the wet at all. Satisfied, Delilah looked back at Kiyr in time to see her look up at her with desperation in her eyes.

"...some...some of the people I need here, with me, the most: my family, can not--

...they are dead."

Delilah's heart wrenched again and her resolve to not cry wavered slightly. She let out a shaky breath, regaining herself, Oh, Kiyr...

Aneko was even less happy about the arrangement as Kiyr clung to her, curling around the stocky ball of fluff. The cat glowered at Delilah again, but remained where she was.

Patiently, Delilah waited. And soon enough, Kiyr was looking back up at her and...moved towards her. It was barely enough to notice, a miniscule amount at best.

But Delilah knew a cry for help when she saw one; and she was never one to deny someone who needed her.

Small hushing tutting noises issued from her mouth (and Delilah was hit by a very strong sense of deja vu) as she closed the rest of the distance between them, wrapping her arms around the girl and guiding her head to rest against her chest.

"It's alright, Kobato<Little Dove>," she murmured softly. "It's okay to hurt."

Delilah had no family to help her through her turmoil and her grief either. All family she had was dead, save for Oliver. But it was 'Unfettered', 'Teal', Marina, Dora,'Green' and Tai who had been there for her when she found her own two legs weren't strong enough to carry the burden any longer.

It had been a lesson she knew well...and it seemed that Kiyr was beginning to realize it, now that she was left with no options.

You don't have to be blood to be family.

[Kyrie Blaze]

The wide-eyed woman watched as Delilah did what she could not. Another tear or two spilled over as Delilah pulled her in. There was no resistance, just a hiccup, and the poor cat would have to deal with a moment or two of being uncomfortable. The blonde, however, had enough of her wits about her to gently move teh feline from her lap, and then reach and cling to Delilah. Her shoulders shook. More tears fell. The blonde's sobs were muffled against Delilah's shirt and chest.

It wasn't that she didn't consider David, Mathew, and Levi family. That was so far from the truth it was ridiculous. But what she needed, more than anything, was someone that understood. exactly. how she felt and what she was going through. While she was aware of David's feelings towards rape and rapists - she had seen him go after several, after all, considering they'd been pulled into one another's dreams - she didn't know what, if anything, he did for the victim. How he interacted with them, how he viewed them, after. And she could admit she was afraid to find out. As for Mathew and Levi? She didn't know of their experiences, if any. She knew Levi placed blame upon his own shoulders, but that didn't help her right now.

Drawing her feet up as though she could simply disappear in Delilah's arms, she continued to hold tight and be comforted. To let all the hurt rush to the surface and spill out, now that she had given in. It didn't occur to her to obsessively look around as she had been. She trusted Delilah enough to keep her safe. It was subconscious, anyway; all of her current functions were drowned out by her tears...and relief. It wasn't weakness, this vulnerability, but growth into strength.

[Delilah A. Black]

Delilah leaned back against the couch, drawing Kiyr closer so she could curl up in her lap, letting herself get lost in the woman's sobs. Liberated, Aneko did not waste any time rushing to the unoccupied end of the couch, where she began fiercely licking herself to get off THE HORRIBLE SALTY WET...and then sit there, staring at the two women as one cried and the other listened, gently rocking back and forth.

It was strange to be considered a...safe person by anyone other than Oliver. But that was what she seemed to be; the little scared dove had found shelter in the middle of a raging storm...with a raven no less. She was not usually known for the side of her she was showing, though she was very much driven by it. It just felt...backwards somehow.

And yet, it was as familiar as her own knives.

So, Delilah would sit there with Kiyr rocking and shushing, for as long as she needed to.

[Kyrie Blaze]

From her questions of Delilah, and the knowledge that they had common ground and thus, the raven-haired woman would know exactly the torment and terror that accompanied Kyrie like a 'geist...Delilah seemed to be the only viable, safe option for her. Of course, it hadn't been easy to overcome her mind's insistent fear-mongering, but now that it was banished and she was clinging to the older female, safe was exactly how she felt.

Eventually, legible sounds--names would emerge. Hesitant and broken by her quiet sobs, Delilah would be slowly introduced to her family in name alone.

Alexander.

Gabriella.

Armand.

Arianna.

Bennett.

Alessandra.

With each name came a knife through her heart, making each name in succession harder to emerge. But eventually she managed it. She didn't say more on them, for the moment, but something about the way she managed to speak them...they were her talismans, even now. Suffused with love and an aching longing, there was not one shred of hate or blame in her voice for them; it wasn't their fault they had died, after all...

The blonde curled in further, as if she could simply disappear in Delilah's arms. She didn't utter anything more for a long time. Even when the crying began to ebb to hiccups and continued tears, it stretched a little further still.

"...je n'oublierai jamais ma famille..." She didn't comprehend she was speaking French...though like Spanish, it had its roots in Latin. What she uttered next, however, was not any language of the modern world. Perhaps it sounded like nonsense, like she was too exhausted from crying to properly speak...and yet, it was said with no hesitation, though it was slightly broken by residual, soft, sobs. "Sív pide köd... Pitäam mustaakad sielpesäambam."

It was an interesting language, that. Created and meant to be something Proto-Uralic, called "Carpathian", Kyrie began using it from a book series that struck so very close to home, especially after the destruction Barker had wreaked upon the world.

[Delilah A. Black]

It was some time later before the blonde woman spoke, an hour, maybe longer...but it had felt like only minutes. Time was a funny thing when it came to grief.

Still, when she spoke, it took Delilah a minute to hazard a guess as to who the names belonged to as Kiyr choked them out with each tight breath.

Alexander.

Gabriella.

Armand.

Arianna.

Bennett.

Alessandra.

It was more how she said it than the fact that they were names themselves; there was no doubt; these were the names of Kiyr's deceased family.

Delilah let her come closer, still shushing as she cradled the smaller woman against her chest. She didn't say anything...nothing really could be said. More silence followed, for a long time.

Once, Delilah saw a shadow in the door frame of her office that quickly vanished. One of her Tengu, no doubt. Checking to see what she was doing and what the crying was about. No one else came by the office, as was probably by the design of whomever stopped by.

As the hours passed, eventually the tears began to ebb and the wracking sobs petered off to softer sounds. And eventually, again, the woman spoke.

"...je n'oublierai jamais ma famille..."

Delilah blinked; she had nearly forgotten that Kiyr was French. She understood not a word...and yet she did. There were some roots that were familiar, and again her tone implied what she was talking about.

"Sív pide köd... Pitäam mustaakad sielpesäambam."

...THAT however, was beyond her.

"What does that mean?" she asked softly, barely breaking the silence with her gentle voice.

[Kyrie Blaze]

Had she spoken aloud..? Her throat was so dry and so sore that Kyrie had no clue. Was she simply hearing things..? The amount of crying she had waded though had given her a wickedly horrible headache. Thankfully, sound didn't seem to have a huge effect on it; it had simply been a huge buildup of stress and emotion that, upon finally being acted on, rushed to the surface and knotted itself into a hard bundle. But it wasn't completely released.

With a soft groan, the head of blonde curls ducked down a little further against Delilah's chest. Still hiding, but, her response would come.

"'Love... Love transcends evil. I hold your memories safe within my soul.'" Despite her falter at the first word - which would make sense when she spoke again - she managed to say it without being interrupted by the last vestiges of her shudders. Her voice was equally quiet, if hoarse where Delilah's was soft, but gentle. Inhaling with a shudder, she added on a life lesson her mother had given her. To her own ears, her voice seemed small and far away, though that was simply because within her mind, her mother's voice said the same thing at the beginning. Delilah would have no problems making it out. "...and I shall always choose love--choose it no matter the pain, or how hard it is...because that love, because it is chosen, endures. It is so much stronger than any other, because you must choose it...because you have to be strong enough to."

[Delilah A. Black]

"'Love... Love transcends evil. I hold your memories safe within my soul.'"

Delilah's eyes widened a little bit at the words and the wisdom therein. Tears hovered just behind her eyes from nothing more than the sheer truth behind them.

"...and I shall always choose love--choose it no matter the pain, or how hard it is...because that love, because it is chosen, endures. It is so much stronger than any other, because you must choose it...because you have to be strong enough to."


The mechanic inhaled through her nose slowly and her lower lip quivered slightly...but that was all, and it was unlikely Kiyr noticed. However, the slender blonde might have noticed that the grip encircling her was a little stronger, more protective.

"You must keep believing that, Kiyr," she whispered fiercely. "No matter what happens or how hard it gets. Your strength is reflected by your capacity to love."

It was actually astounding how the words had hit home for Delilah. It was something she had always held dear herself. Her duty and loyalty to all she held dear all stemmed from love. Love for her gang, love for her people, her friends, her son, love for--

She stopped her thoughts where they were and exhaled slowly.

"I'm proud of you, Kiyr."

[Kyrie Blaze]

Love Transcends Evil.

The phrase would translate to so many different kinds of love, and different kinds of evil. It was, indeed, a staple belief to carry. A simple, yet deep truth.

The blonde's subconscious mind perhaps noted the reason for the slow, inward breath...but Kyrie herself only took comfort in the sound of air whooshing into Delilah's lungs. And she curled in closer as Delilah's arms banded around her, further.

"...always..."

It was mumbled between Delilah's words. She never would give that up. It was essential to who she was, given to her by family and demonstrated every day as such. Giving up on that was like giving up on them. Despite their physical absence, she did, indeed, keep their memories safe within her soul.

She seemed to still with Delilah's last statement, as if deciding upon something, before finally uttering: "Kyrie..."

And Delilah was formally introduced to the small blonde woman. Not by a pseudonym created so that people would be kept at a distance by not using her real name, because in knowing her real name...it meant something.

[Delilah A. Black]

A pause, a moment of silence from the woman that Delilah expected. What she did not expect--

"Kyrie..."

So close it was to the small girl's name...or, at least, the name Delilah assumed had been hers all along, that she saw the resemblance and the difference immediately. Silently, Delilah nodded to herself. That felt...like it was a lot of trust being put upon her, having Kiyr--Kyrie give her her true name.

Delilah...didn't think she could offer anything of the equivalent in it's place. Kyrie almost knew everything about her.

...unless.

Unless she told her something.

Something she'd never told anyone? Something she had never admitted, even to herself?

Only one thing qualified.

A small sigh escaped her again. In that breath, Delilah whispered;

"..."

Said softly, almost as if Delilah didn't want to hear it herself. But it was the only thing she could offer Kyrie, an extension of her own trust in the girl.

She smoothed a hand over the back of Kyrie's head. "...And now I've told you everything."[/font]

[Kyrie Blaze]

The bundle of a blonde in Delilah's arms gave a very mild start with the whisper. Clearly in her mind, this wasn't about equivalent exchange. Tears swam, still, in her eyes. Yet, new emotions joined the pained ones already there. Surprise, gratitude, confusion, to name the more prominent.

In respect for Delilah, knowing that after that kind of admittance out loud, Delilah was choosing, Kyrie managed to keep her voice just as quiet. So she leaned in a little, and spoke:

"..."

Despite herself, her body began to relax. Partially from exhaustion, partially because her trust in the First Crow was complete--Delilah would keep her safe. Even from her own mind. And yet, if for some unfathomable reason there was a threat...the blonde would pull herself together long enough to fight. Thankfully, there would be no need.

The blue-eyed woman bowed her head.

[Delilah A. Black]

Oh, now wasn't that a kettle of fish? Delilah honestly didn't feel like answering (again, this was about Kyrie, not her), but she would; it was important to hear her own opinions on the matter as well.

"...."

A soft puff of air blew past her lips and she leaned back against the couch to allow Kyrie to relax fully against her.

"Even if he never sees it the way I do."

It was strange, talking about private things--for this was about as private to her as her music was-- so candidly. Especially about this of all things. Still...it felt good to talk about, finally, and have it out in the open.