He'd barely stepped paw in Orion before his vision swam, and he'd darted over and through rubble, ears flicking back to lay flat on his skull, breath quickening in constricting lungs. The dizziness was every-day, ordinary at this point, but the flashes of what had to be memories rushing through his mind were decidedly not. Barnett came to a halt in the darkest corner of Tunnel J he could find, crouching low to the ground, weak hands scrabbling at his chest. What about Orion? I mean... if you don't mind leaving, of course. Home is wherever my family is. Another choked cough, and the numbat spat onto the stone floor, staining it with red. We are one... Show me the mushrooms, as you see them. He didn't want this. Don't worry, little brother, you won't lose me. He hadn't done this! A grimace stole across Barnett's face, needlepoint teeth glinting a dull yellow in the low light as he dragged claw-tipped paws down his face. And then they dug in. Barnett yelped, wincing, trying to pull the claws away from his face, two screeching their way across the black opal spikes that jutted from his skull. "What in the caves-" His hands clenched and unclenched just as suddenly, leaving the Gembound with tiny puncture wounds just below his working eye, and a brand new scuff on his gem. Then came a twitch of his legs, and then a snap of jaws, and Barnett coughed again, muttering low under his breath, glaring at nothing to the naked eye. Booker, what the hell are you doing? It's not safe, you ca- Get out of my body! You keep remembering him and it's... I can't do this. Not anymore. Just let me out a little while, yes? Booker's tone went from venomous to sweet in milliseconds, and Barnett's outward gaze narrowed even further, raising a shaking paw to wipe at the blood left-over from Booker's escape attempt. He opened his mouth to reply, but it wasn't much use - an overly-cheerful One moment, my child, I promise on the wellbeing of the Mother, and finally, finally, finally Booker was staring at the world through his own eyes, blinking into the world, face relaxing into a small, satisfied smile. Barnett was an angry, burning thing at the back of his mind, practically climbing the walls, but Booker had work to do, after all. He remembered bits and pieces, fragments of a bigger picture. His brother and his kindness, his faith, his trust, and the moment he died, ripping the core out from under the scribe's world. He felt floaty, actually, made light from rage burnt hollow, a fire kept on too long to truly be of any good use any longer. There was a dull, thumping pain behind his working eye, like someone had tried to scoop it out of its socket, but Booker knew it was thanks to the scab in his mindspace, a wound he'd kept picking at until it had turned grey and crusted, letting through tiny shards of thought. His brother. His brother. He couldn't remember his name. But he was dead, and the dead didn't have much use for names, anyhow. His neck twitched, and Booker wheezed, a flash of that familiar anger making his blood rush. He'd had enough of being used like a puppet, by himself, by the shadowy, unfamiliar faces of those in his nightmares, by the half-face who dug glass into his chest and cut him open for the world to see, made him want for the glass again when everything felt so... Well. Floaty. Another twitch, this time of his eye, and Booker slammed a paw into the ground as his throat swelled, the attempt to control his own body, leave me alone, I'm not done yet, before the coughing came back, more red painting the ground below. The numbat finally slumped to the side, Barnett quieting - probably due to the puddle of blood, come to think of it - and Booker grinned, snuffling with a nod to himself. Victory. Not dead. It felt like a victor- Booker slapped a paw to his gem once, hard enough to send a jolt of pain ricocheting down his spine, and felt the watchful glare of Barnett fade.

@Louie

Out of the confines of Polaris, the half-faced man felt naked and defenseless in the glistening light of the tunnels and caves. In his grasp, the danburite stone glowed warmly with the presence of his Will, the germinated 'egg' beginning the process of creation. Tendrils of light were poking between his teeth as it lay nestled on his broad flat tongue. Magdalena had walked side by side with him for much of the journey, but he had lagged and had now fallen a good distance behind her. The idea of venturing back to Monoceros to face the music for his insubordination wasn't appealing to the fox.

There were no two in his mind, but as Khloros had predicted, had watched and now had come to experience, Louie had lost out to the sickness of his mind. Whatever feelings of kindness, admiration and affection he had harboured had dissipated along with a lot of the supposed 'friends' they had declared he was making. Time spent alone under his gem's determination of survival had left him with time to contemplate what had been going on. Some form of brainwashing that he hadn't experienced before as the plague pony and that insolent numbat tried to work their magic on him. It hadn't worked, after his clash once again with Raheerah he had withdrawn to the Spire and forgotten everything he had been working for. Though his aging had stopped, his mind had continued to work over the many months of life as he witnessed the many births of others into Origin cave. All he was becoming was another tired all gembound whose name would be forgotten once his heart stopped beating.

Plastered along the walls were carvings and paintings of things he didn't quite comprehend at the present time. They were always there, they hadn't changed from the day he had shoved Wynry to his death. That sheep had been his first step off the path, but by now the path wasn't even visible in the rear view mirrors. A known scent was laced between the piles of the armour and he hissed air out from between the stone. Louie attempted to cast out to touch whatever bacterial pockets he could feel... Relays back supported his suspicion and he bristled as his eyeball almost popped out of his skull as he feverishly glanced around. Pace slowing, steps half-hearted, a stench of blood and sickening disease hung like thick fog within the air. Disgusting.

Unsure how to keep the stone in his mouth so as to avoid it gripping onto the rock beneath him, he placed it within the scooped shape of a broken breast plate. Should it fixate there, at least it would still be movable. "Booker. Do you enjoy tempting fate?" Eyes narrowed, his words like ice came burning up the back of his throat. This time, he wouldn't be so merciful. That overgrown lizard wasn't on the wind, he would slaughter the numbat where he lay and it appeared as though someone had already started the job as he came upon the site of the broken male.

A grin broke through his features, something he hadn't done in a long time. His dry and cracked lips peeled back over his teeth as his muscles strained at the unfamiliar feeling. "Looks like you've already found yourself in the deep end." Familiar feelings stirred, but were quenched immediately.

@Booker

Booker lay quite happily in the puddle of blood, all of his magic focused on replenishing the supply, not bothering to get up from his collapsed state on one side, fur matting down with familiar wetness. The smell didn't bother him anymore - the taste still made his snout wrinkle, and the numbat absently spat out another mouthful of blood, more annoyed than frightful. Fear had been absent for a while now, and it was... new. Freeing. Fear had ruled so much of his life that he felt just a touch unmoored without it, but hell, he had nothing to lose and everything, everything, everything to gain. Grinning to himself dazedly, the scribe didn't pick up on the presence of someone else until a shadow fell over him, and even then he simply rolled his good eye to gaze up at the stranger. Ah. Um. Well. This was rather awkward. Booker snuffled, sneezing out another spray of blood, the thought of hitting Louie with it sending a rather nice spark of satisfaction skittering through his skin. "I enjoy temptin' many things," the numbat slurred back, raising a paw to twirl about in a wide circle, as if to point out the rather obvious pool of red that had spread across the tunnel floor. "Generally exsanguination ain't one of 'em, but, well, " a hitch in his breath was the only clue that Barnett had broken in for a moment, "things don't always go according to plan, do they, Louie?" His lips peeled back into an almost teasing grin of his own, no hint of the old bone-deep terror that had accompanied the presence of the fox. After all, most of his memories of his captivity were still blurry and unwanted - the ones that had stayed were filled with glass and... well. Emotions other than fear. Sympathy that bordered too close to pity, guilt. Something warmer. Still, not as important as the here-and-now, which included Booker groaning and attempting to rise to all fours, before flopping back down onto his side with an exhausted laugh, burnt paws stinging with the effort. "Oh, we've both been in the deep end fer a while now, ah'd think," he replied, flicking an ear as he raised a paw to scratch at his face, tapping on the spikes of his gem absently. "Though you've caught me at a bit ofa bad time. Kinda indisposed at the mo'," Booker added, stifling a sneeze and instead swallowing the mouthful of blood.

@Louie

That was kind of vile and he took a paw to his face to wipe away the spattered combination of spittle and blood on the side of his face. Rubbing the sole of it on the ground to get most of it off, he ended up just smearing through the slick blood that made a halo around the man's body. Grin fading, he scowled at the cheerfulness of the numbat, "Fancy words don't make me believe you have gained any intelligence since we last met." Insolent fool who believed he could get out of this one with comradery and similarities of situation. Purposefully, he slapped his paw forwards in the liquid to try and splash it over his striped and frail form. "You might be wanting some of this back."

It hadn't gone to plan, none of it had, but he had to remember that it was through his mistakes he grew strong. His not being able to understand that had led to his failure would soon become his greatest weapon. Previously, mistakes were frowned upon, but in his maturity he had come to realize that only after many mistakes would one become the strongest. Louie began to pace circles around both the pool and the body that it contained within it. Leaning down, he gently let his tongue trail through the blood before licking it up. If it was diseased, he cast out his bacterial strength to grant immunity to whatever it was that ailed him...

Where previously he had felt disgusted by the sight, the feeling of it sliding down his esophagus was too good and he shivered with pleasure, his hackles raising and as his face lighting up as he got some sick thrill out of it. If anything, he felt better after having done it and he cleaned up his maw before leaning in closer, a breath away from the damaged socket where the gem so rudely protruded. "At least my deep end has an ending," almost seductively he whispered. The banter was upping in intensity and he wondered if running his tongue along the man's face once again would be in bad taste. The first time he had done it he hadn't exactly been welcome. "How did you even get yourself into this mess old man?" It was used out of irony, as though he was months older he couldn't help but feel as though seeing kindness in others just showed they had stopped giving two shits about themselves and the world. A maturity beyond their years.

Trailing back over to the stone which housed his child, he wondered if he should just leave the bastard to bleed out. More feelings stirred, but he kept them supressed, the worrying reality of them made his eyebrows pull together once again. Gently, he pushed his nose into the stone and moved it along the breast plate to once again prevent it from sinking into the metal base. Games had to end here, he couldn't let himself get side tracked. "Do you really think that you have a chance against me if I decided to wipe you off the face of this earth?"

Booker stifled a high-pitched giggle as his sneeze was a direct hit, spattering blood and snot onto the fox's pelt. "Don't think bein' infected with whatever the 'ell you gave me let me show off my intellect much there, Lou," the numbat drawled, retaining his grin even in the face of the other man's obvious impatience. The paw that slapped down made him flinch just a bit, the grin switching into a startled frown, complete with a raised eyebrow above his gem-fused eye socket. "It's not like I wanted to be sitting in a pool of my own blood this afternoon," and there was the more clear-cut voice of Barnett, buoyed by just a touch of anger. The spark faded just as quickly as it came, leaving Booker to tap at the ground in an effort to once again get up. "Then again, 'm comfy. Might stay here a while," he teased, smirking up at Louie and sprawling out in the blood, looking completely comfortable in the copper pool. Booker almost felt back on even ground after the fox's outburst - and then he... What in all the caves is he doing, pray tell? Booker wrinkled his snout, mentally shrugging as he watched, stunned, as Louie... drank his blood? That was a little too weird, even for as drugged to the gills as he was. ...no idea, Barn. And then the fox was leaning in close, breath blowing over the scribe's face as he spoke, and Booker felt himself blush red-hot under his thin, wiry fur, eye widening to return Louie's gaze. It took him a moment - or, well, maybe a bit more than that, mouth gaping open in confusion, fur puffing up in... definitely not confusion - to realise Louie had spoken, and he had to backtrack through the last segment of their clandestine meeting, mouth closing with a snap and forming a tiny, flustered smile. "Well, uh. After everything, I didn't... feel right. Felt like somethin' was... inside. Wrong." Let's not bring me into this yet, yeah? Geeze, ah wasn't includin' you in that, Barn. Chill. "I had been doin' better, and then... well, y'know. Things happen." A pained wince tugged at the scribe's face, and he shivered once, finally gathering enough strength to sit up, wavering in place before raising a paw to his working eye, rubbing it down his face, uncaring of the blood. "Wrongness got worse, 'till it kinda... came out. Been trying to control it, but it keeps backfirin' on me," Booker explained, casting an annoyed, frustrated glance to the pool of red below. The scribe kept his eye closed, sighing and focusing in on the sound of Louie's breathing, and there it was, just below the surface, the steady thrum of blood, heady and alive, an anchor as much as the bright light in his head had been. Booker wrenched his eye open with a grimace - he couldn't afford another backfire, and he didn't really want to hurt Louie. Not anymore. The numbat watched, curious, as the fox trailed back over to whatever he'd been messing with before, the object glinting in the low light of the caves. He perked up a bit - was that a gem? - before he tuned back into Louie's words, ready for more of the playful, almost fun banter, something he hadn't had in months. The question stopped him cold, and Booker took a breath, two, before something in his posture changed. The slumped back straightened, and the man's ears pitched forward, lips twisting into a snarl, fur rising, until he looked less like a drowned rat and more like a hurt, cornered dog. "No," Barnett answered, cold and emotionless, voice clipped and harsh, like he'd swallowed the glass from the caves, it had been so cold, the wind ripping through the room, the shards were sharp but useful, hide them, keep them, "we wouldn't stand a chance. Question is, Lou, if you really want to, or if you're just posturing like a fuckin' asshole." The numbat's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he relaxed, and it was all Booker, hopeful and oh so very lonely, won't you fill the void, it won't be hard, just stay a while and then leave like the rest, it's worked so far, I'm still here aren't I. "Or we could go back to the talkin' part. That was fun."

@Louie

Whatever was wrong with Booker, it had caused him to lose almost all his blood and he was there dying from it. Bugs under his skin or some sensation such as that could easily have caused him to go coocoo bananas but the desperation and annoyance was evident as Booker swept his gaze over his own mess. Damn near killed himself for the sake of some mental retardation that had caused his thinking to go all skewiff. Louie shrugged as he turned back to the man, ready to leave but the Numbat was sitting upright now, little snout pulled back to reveal his sharp teeth capable of crunching beetles. That voice was odd, he found himself raising an eyebrow but in the back of his mind he was questioning what the fuck was going on.

"When did this 'we' business start you loon?" Name calling didn't hurt him, but it sure pissed him the hell off and the oh-so 'mature' fox was beginning to succumb to his short fuse and the need to always be the best. To be the one to take down the fighter. "My threats are never hollow, but circumstances change..." Growling himself, he was caught off guard by the change in tone and posture that invited him to continue talking. Wary, he didn't move away from the gem behind his back feet. "Do you think this is going to end positively for you rat?"

Still his feelings were mixed, but he had to push them away. Attachment had died along with whatever 'good' Khloros had thought he had had. That battle was lost, the war may still be continuing but it would take time before there was ever such a mix-up as he was in. Right now, he had to focus on the children that he had with Magdalena, he had to focus on rebuilding his reputation. There was word in the caves of a vicious stag, and he wouldn't be outdone by a herbivorous deer. Wynry wasn't so hard to kill, all of them were weak. Nemesis was the only exception he had found to the rule and he was lucky he was on her good side. Sort of not really. "Flip-flopping back and forth doesn't instill sympathy, if anything it just makes me think you're even more of a psycho that you were when we first met. Where is that fat furry lizard anyway?" They had been here for quite some time, and Baratheon the supposed great wasn't here just yet.

"You've got no one to defend you." Pacing over until he was around the rim of the blood pile, he snorted. "You're such a pitiful rat." Not entirely sure whether to just physically bop him on the head and cause him to pass out, he made sure that all his bases were covered... Feeling it squirm within his stomach, he wondered whether or not it would be a good idea to once again make him succumb to botulism. How horrible it would be to once again face the torturous symptoms. Shaking his head, Louie spat on the ground next to Booker, the more body fluids the merrier. "I thought I felt something for you..." It was a lie to say he no longer had these feelings, but he had to convince himself otherwise. Muscles tensing, he snarled, "Prepare to die numbat scum."

In an instant, the colder voice was back, though it seemed more mocking, now, than angry, tense and clipped. "A loon? Really, Louie, is that the best you can do? Also, can I point out that you just drank my blood, which came from so many orifices that I may have discovered some new ones in the process," Barnett replied, sneering and watching the fox with... disappointment? There was a heavy feeling in his gut, pooling with anxiety and mortal fear, that felt a lot like a missed opportunity. No matter. Booker might not give a damn about what happened to their body, but Barnett had two kids and a pack of mangy cats to look out for, and he'd be damned if some overgrown bully was going to take him away from his family. "Positively, no. Only reason I let Booker out in the first place was to try and talk some sense into you. Doesn't seem to have worked." He didn't flinch when the fox growled, only ticking an eyebrow up, whiskers twitching in annoyance. "You wanna get on with the show, here? You got something to say, say it. I dare you." At the continued rant, Barnett rolled his eye heavenward, as if looking for some sort of deliverance from the other man's presence. "Oh yeah, I'm the psycho. Sorry that being almost killed a few dozen times got to me eventually, numbnuts, but not all of us solve our problems by kidnapping kids and enslaving their brothers. That's your brand of crazy, not mine," the numbat argued, brow furrowing in annoyance, angry at himself for still feeling anything other than pure hatred towards his once-captor. There was an acidic mix of bile and frustration climbing up his throat, bred by the constant "flip-flopping" Louie himself was committing. "Make up your mind, huh? Don't play with Booker just because he's easy to please. He always felt for you, you know." Barnett huffed. "I don't have that problem," he lied, grinning. And then... oh. Oh no. Where is that fat furry lizard anyway? You've got no one to defend you. You're such a pitiful rat. If I could I would go see you now... Wish me luck, Booker... I love you. The scribe's face twisted into a pained scowl, and he let out a screech, dropping down to all fours, eye bright and narrowed into a purely hateful glare. "Don't talk about him, don't! Not after what you did to him!" Sharp claws scratched on the cold stone floor, and when he spoke, it was impossible to tell who was in control - if anyone was. "You want to finish what you started? You hate me so much that you need to kill me when I've done nothing to you, Louie? Then do it. Whatever you do to me, I can take it. But leave my brother out of it!" He snarled once, the sound breaking on choked agony, forced to remember the last few moments of the bond, the wrenching pain enough to make him shake in place before he broke free of the flashback, turning tail and darting out from his self-imposed prison, leaving the bloody circle behind. His first instinct was cruel, and he almost hated himself for it, just a bit, but he made a beeline for the breastplate he'd seen the stone nestled in, jumping for the edge and scrambling on top of it, stepping just behind the gem and grimacing. "Just leave me alone, Louie. Please. I'm tired of playing whatever the fuck game you're trying to orchestrate, and you've already done enough damage." Barnett glanced down at the growing egg, stepping back and jumping from the breastplate to a ledge hollowed into the tunnel wall, perched high enough that the fox would have to truly want to end the scribe for good to reach him. "Your kid. You gonna do what you did to me to it? Fuck it up enough that it can't tell what's real anymore?" The words were monotone, emotionless except for a hint of bitterness. "I know somehow, in your mind, I deserved what you did to me. But your child doesn't." His head rose to gaze down at Louie, and Booker spoke with almost as much strength as he had had before everything had fallen apart. "You don't haveta keep doin' this. I don't know why you chose me to... to... destroy, but ah never wanted the same fer you. You might only have thought ya felt somethin' for me, but I 'ave always felt somethin' for you. Granted, some of those things were less affectionate and more aimed towards jammin' those glass shards right back into yer paws, but unlike you, ah control those kinda urges around polite company." Oh, yeah. Smooth and confident. Like he wasn't shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, terrified he'd never get to see Diot again, or watch Bee grow up, or help Dove, or finally carve away a piece of white stone and be at peace.

@Louie

"Hey the quality of my insults is great." Drawing his tongue over his maw, he spat sideways at the comment about how crazy he was for drinking his blood, "It tastes like failure, how could I resist? Watching other people's lives crumble makes my stomach flutter" So he had indeed split into two people. Booker was no longer just... Booker. It was creepy and weird, maybe not as weird as his new aversion to water but it was still up in the realm of "don't approach unless absolutely necessary". Louie listened, his slightly elongated tail flicking around his heels as his face seemed to set into this permanent nasty glower.

Kidnapping kids wasn't his brand, he had wanted the dragon, the way to get to the dragon was through taking the numbat. One had to do a few things they weren't proud of to get to the end goal, but now he didn't so much as care if he had to slaughter gemlings that were still encased in the sticky goo of their chrysalis shell. Their lives didn't matter, just as his didn't, but he could make his own more entertaining. Even begin to try and find a worth among these caves. No one needed him, he needed no one. "Booker never cared for me don't fucking LIE TO ME." All he was was sick and scared, he did what he had to do to avoid slaughter, it had worked, Louie had spared him, but he had fucked up his mind in the process it seemed.

That ear piercing screech, just why. Far as the fox knew he had done nothing wrong in the ways of the pink dragon, he'd hardly touched him. If their minds were so fragile that a little bit of torture broke them than they weren't worthy of living either. "If it wasn't me it'd be someone else," shaking his head, he watched as the numbat went for the breast plate and once again his eye became a lone saucer as he jumped onto it. It unbalanced the iron sheet, and Booker was up onto a ledge. Huddling down over his only child, he shot a look up at where Booker was now above him, his whole body quivering with rage, fury and sick desperation at how close he had come to losing a part of him. Froth bubbled at the corner of his lips as he too shrieked and howled, "MY CHILD WILL BECOME THE MOST FEARED CREATURE IN ALL OF ORIGIN CAVES." There was no guarantee what it would be, but he could feel it... He just had to be.

Correcting all the mistakes he had made.

Being a better man than he had ever been.

Magdalena would make him sweet... Even if he would one day come to taint the innocence. The borzoi woman would take him away from him, if he couldn't be trusted he would give up his only friend. Louie couldn't risk damaging his one chance. It was true. All he did was damage and destroy and plague the minds of others. Lie and commit treachery pulling those within radius towards him like a magnet as he dragged them under. Overwhelmed by emotions of his child, of his failures and of the truth behind Booker's words, he began to sob, his shoulders heaving. Thick streams of tears and snot dripped and splashed on his gem child as he felt everything breaking free. "I have to keep doing it. I will always keep doing..." His voice was merely a whisper, but the war was beginning again and his left temple sent a piercing shot as his head began to pound.

"There is no reason to keep living, my mission is to destroy and kill everything in Origin cave. What other purpose is there? But then I met you. I told you everything. I let my problems be yours and..." Sweat was now coating his back as his muscles twitched and trembled with Adrenalin. "I developed feelings for you." Who the hell was he talking to though? Was it who he wanted to be or that sick twisted freak who also seemed to be apart of his brain, "Khloros said everything you're saying now." Did he want to go back? No. That was who he was, even if he did his brain actually couldn't muster those thoughts as at this moment he saw nothing wrong with it. "Booker... I love you. But every inch of my body is telling me to kill you. To finish what I started." Murder, blood. It would all stain his paws as he wringed it out of those unworthy. Booker wasn't worth. He was too broken now. "The question is do I want to."

@Booker

Booker stared down from the ledge, shivering, eye wide as his system warred between shock and relief. Blood rushed through his ears, filling them with white noise as the fox's words began to circulate, finally catching up to the frantic numbat. Booker never cared for me don't LIE TO ME. It tastes like failure, how could I resist? MY CHILD WILL BECOME THE MOST FEARED CREATURE IN ALL OF ORIGIN CAVES! If it wasn't me it'd be someone else. The scribe grimaced, a war raging in his own head between interrupting and staying shrunken back in his hidey-hole, peering down at Louie with one watery brown eye. There was a pause, the last thunderous screech echoing down the tunnel, and he took a breath, two, leaning over the edge and frowning. "Is that really what ya want, Lou? To be feared? For your kid to grow up with no friends, only folks too scared ta look it in the eye?" Booker winced at the slip, gaze darting to the massive scar that entrenched itself into Louie's flesh. It didn't bother him, but it had to hurt - just another mark left by Raheerah. The burn scars that littered his back itched and pulled. "Ah just... ah don't understand, Louie. You scare the shit outta me, but then you turn around an' - an' -" Act like you care. Which was ridiculous, obviously. Wasn't it? There was a soft noise from below, and Booker refocused, taking in the shivering - and at first, it looked like Louie had started snickering at him, and Barnett's vision flashed red - but there were tiny drops of water pinging off of the breastplate and the gem nestled inside of it, and Booker's mouth dropped open at the site of his greatest fear crying. Sobbing, now, great shaking heaves, whole body shivering. For a moment, he took a step forward, edging closer to the edge, one paw outstretched - but he darted back just as quickly. If there was anyone who Louie could hurt the most, the deepest and the easiest, it was Booker. I have to keep doing it. I will always keep doing... The whisper slithered up from the fox's mouth and hit the scribe's ears like the firing of a gun, making him startle back, only to scrabble forward to catch the words. There is no reason to keep living, my mission is to destroy and kill everything in Origin cave. Barnett sneered, lip curling up to show pointed teeth, skin itching to release its saved spores and just make the vulpine shut up, stop before things could get worse. What other purpose is there? Booker took a deep breath, chest constricting - he couldn't help. He wouldn't. He'd tried with his brother, and his brother was dead, dead, dead and burned, eye scraped out and body destroyed, and Louie had already suffered enough, he didn't need a bad luck charm. But then I met you. I told you everything. I let my problems be yours and... The numbat stilled, leaning off of the ledge enough to sway, almost falling. I developed feelings for you. A paw grasped air, and he did fall this time, chest catching on the divot's edge, front legs hanging from the ledge. Booker shook, horrifically entranced. Khloros said everything you're saying now. Khloros. The horse? His other-brother, flickers of memory provided, his savior, the one who'd carried him to safety, found him in Polaris. The numbat's hands clenched on nothingness. He needed to help. That was his purpose - he needed to save Louie like he needed to breathe, but the two seemed just about impossible at the moment, considering how the world was darkening at the edges, his lungs constricting, collapsing in on their own weight. Booker... I love you. God. God, no. Wish me luck, Booker... I love you. I love you. I love you. This couldn't be happening again. Barnett shook, one paw rising to cover his remaining eye, feeling it burn and twitch with remembered phantom pain. Louie would not die like his brother. But maybe... maybe he would. And if there was one thing Booker regretted, more than burdening his sons with himself, more than not being able to save his brother, it was not being able to say goodbye. Louie was still speaking, still murmuring in that same fierce, conflicted tone, But every inch of my body is telling me to kill you. To finish what I started. The question is do I want to. The priest barely heard the words, slowly straightening from his awkward half-collapsed position, staring down his nose at the one person who had the ability to destroy him completely, body and soul. "I love you, too." Booker huffed, a shiver running through him, head turning just enough to switch his gaze from Louie to the fox's unborn child. "What ya do with that information... that's you. But I need you to know before ya go any further. I love you, Louie. More n' I've ever loved anyone. Enough to hurt."

Rocking back and forth on his heels, his sniffles and tears from just the one eye began to run dry. Yes, he did missing having both. The ability to see everything as clear as day. Rather than this mutilated monster that Raheerah had caused him to be. Death had been so close that day, it had crippled him immensely and it had changed his perspective. That was why he became all melancholic. None of them had any real hold on the earth beneath their feet. So he had become a hollow creature, haunted by his own thoughts that he just wanted to kill mercilessly. Feel their necks beneath his teeth.

Maybe he wasn't so excited for his children to become feared. Not as much as he had originally thought, but if they were his children that would become theirreputation. Still, his sight remained on the pulsing, almost beating of a heart that lay within the danburite's core. The white light it reflected was symbolic of the purity that he had lost many months ago. Above him, he could feel Booker reacting to the news that he held feelings for him, and his own breath held within the back of his throat. There was no sad story about Louie having lost a loved one. There was nothing he had loved before now. All it had done was place a weakness in him and he hated himself every step of the way because of it. Succumbing to his emotional fatigue, he dropped low on his stomach, feeling the cluster of danburite poke his soft underside as he covered half of the breast plate.

"I love you too."

Louie had been denying it. Since they had parted ways he had been denying that anything could hold feelings for him. It over complicated everything knowing his love was reciprocated. This love was enough to hurt the numbat, and truthfully, it was enough to hurt the fox. Different ends of the spectrum, but they were both hurting for each other. There was so much denial and repression in his life that he had never had a chance to explore what true emotions were. Not entirely sure what he was supposed to say back, they just sat in stony silence.

Khloros had told him he was on the edge of falling one way or the other. In those moments that he had Baratheon and Booker captured, it seemed like he would fall in their favour. Battles or wars, there was only ever going to be one outcome and it was speaking to Booker, that made him realize this.

All he was, was a demonic monster. There was no chance of redemption.

"I'm sorry." Everything had defused as he rose to his feet. There was no anger for Booker as more than anything he wanted to tear himself inside out. Correct what he was feeling as it was wrong. But he was broken. Again he started to cry. Out of the realization that this conversation had ended. That everything had ended. That he would never truly be fixed to the point of being able to participate in society like a normal person. Being able to feel and react in a manner that could express joy at being with company, laughing along with friends as you appreciated being within their presence. These children were his last chance. They would be his last connection to this world as he had no one else. There was no one else that he could call upon to aid him.

It was over.

Silently, he stood, the tears running down his face spoke more words than his voice ever could. Almost sensing his distress, the stone beneath him was humming. It cut through the deathly quiet of the tunnel. Since he had confessed his love, he had refused to look Booker in the eye. Still he refused, as he picked up the danburite gem, and began to silently walk towards Monoceros. Stepping over the blood pile where Booker had previously been immobile and continuing forth.

Not looking back.

Not allowing him the final world.

Louie disappeared into the end of the tunnel and left the severely injured man to his own devices.

Not feeling anymore.
But then again, he never felt.

-exit Louie-

--- Louie right now

@Booker