#so i jsut left her narration strictly w that nfjdhdjfkv

[spirestar]

@heartinhands

Disappointment is a bitter poison. It requires hope to be born, even the smallest trace, and it siphons the life out of whoever it touches. Cam can't help but writhe beneath its weight. She'd never call herself hopeful--I've never had room for wishing things were different--but believing in her own abilities has brought her so far already. To hit a permanent wall now is--She'd rather Beowulf's shade had taken her whole arm and then some. Her father's books weighed heavy on their stolen borrowed mattress, yet another week of squatting in abandoned apartments in the wake of devils, as she pored over them. Vergil said he found something, had to meet with someone--And Cam was sure he'd never come back. It wouldn't be the first time he's disappeared.

It would be the first time since the last guardian tipped them off about the dead end they've hit: Crimson glowing, the whispering of a thousand year old sorrows and rage ringing out like a bell, cold air eking out from him until the monster cackled something wild in its death throes about it being 'broken.' Vergil's face had gone flat and sharp all at once, and Cam peeled herself off its corpse in time to force its not-soul into Rodon's hungry maw. That's probably the only reason she knows the whole story now--There are two halves to one key, the guardians will let him in only if he has both. But that's all she knows. Her asshole partner, as if, keeps the rest close to his chest. As close as he does his amulet and, well, Cam can't blame him for that part, at least. She really should've stolen it from him from the beginning.

When he came back, Cam tried not to look surprised. They've been stuck together long enough that she can see some things in him like that. When he's pissed, mostly, but when he's hiding something underneath it, too. Not by any real effort on her part, though. He's just like that to her. She doubts that goes both ways--Worked on acting like her usual disgruntled self as he tossed a plastic bag of food at her head ( not actually on purpose this time, he's just too damn tall ) and gave an uncharacteristically open explanation of where he'd been. Surprises, full of them, and then:

"You don't actually--" Dark eyes flash like hot metal, steely and molten with anger. God, she can't help it, but her voice stays even and incredulous, even if it takes all her effort. "Did you hit your head or something? You don't really believe some old, convenient fuck is going to help you, do you?" If she and Vergil were any less themselves, she'd almost expect them to start laughing in unison. She says convenient because that's what this dickhead is--Some man who shows up just when Vergil needs him, just when they've learned they can't open the tower themselves. She's sure she's heard him wrong. Is this why he bothered bringing food back? So he could get the few things he made the mistake of leaving behind and really disappear again? ( She expected it, but, but-- ) Cam snaps a protein bar in half and holds it out, hoping to force him to stop packing things while he speaks. The guy hardly fucking remembers to eat when they're not stuck together. Demon metabolism is insane. "Are you just gonna kill him when it's all done?" It feels beyond hypocritical to try and convince him not to take the chance on whatever deal the other man is offering. And Cam doesn't need to say Vergil has likely had the same plan for her from the beginning, if he even sees her as enough of a threat to need to get rid of her eventually. He can certainly try it.

If he leaves--So what? She has to tell herself it won't matter. If she can find the other half of the key, she might not even need him. A key means a lock and locks are meant to be picked open / broken. There can't be only one way to do it. She needs that portal, has to find a way to dominate Rodon's consciousness and destroy its will. If she can't then--then--What is she still alive for at all? Cam clears her throat before taking another bite of the bar and nudging a water bottle toward Vergil's side of the bed. Anything to make this a real conversation. Equal parts. Not just a goodbye. "I know that guy doesn't have the key piece."