… solipsubmissive …

In my novels, the heroine invariably has to cry at some point.  Because i am a sucker for happy endings (some people consider me a hopeless romantic) i used to read historical romance.  When i decided to write, it seemed a natural genre into which i should dive.

There are certain things i do not like though, certain things that aren’t quite real enough for me.  While historical romance is all about escapism, i do like to avoid certain stereotypes.  Like the crying thing.

i do not cry pretty.

If you read such novels (or even watch romantic comedy) the girls always manage to cry in a delicate, feminine way.  No stammering around a tightly closed throat, no snot pouring out of one’s nostrils in a decidedly disgusting manner, no blotchiness around one’s eyes.  Their noses do not turn a bright shade of red that would rival anything Rudolph had to offer.

All of that happens to me.

i suppose this isn’t a problem if you don’t cry very often.  i’m not one of those people.  i cry at beauty, at sublimity, and at your standard tear-jerker flicks.  i feel things strongly, and i cry.  Typically, those tears are a bit more manageable.  They don’t last very long and i can generally get myself back under control before the mottled red nose effect sets in.  But … and it’s a huge but …

i’m almost exclusively attracted to men who not only make me cry, but who enjoy making me cry.  Men who want to empty me.  Holding back is not acceptable, ever.

~sigh~  i wish i cried pretty.

This is a continuation.  You may want to begin here:  absolution, part one

“Forgiveness is the fragrance left by the violet on the heel that crushed it.”

Mark Twain

Author’s aside:  i remember a time when i always wanted to be pretty for you.  Never a hair out of place, my makeup lightly and perfectly applied, always poised, always serene.  That time existed before i knew you.

***

 Silence, thick and heavy, stretched between them.  elise didn’t move, just kept her head averted as she furiously fought her emotions.  She didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t know why Erick would take this step.  It was one thing to test her, to train her, perhaps, to accept without question his directives.  This, however, seemed to go against everything she’d previously thought she knew about him. 

Caleb waited.  He could have helped her, could have given her orders to follow, could have allowed her the simple solace of falling into the blessed relief of being led.  He was a little surprised at the empathy he felt.  They’d never been particularly close, he and elise, despite the depth of his best friend’s feelings for her.  Instead, he’d always viewed her with a sort of distant distrust, and wondered at Erick’s attraction.

As he’d told Caleb earlier, elise was different.

“i have some questions,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t care,” he responded in an even tone.

Her eyes narrowed and two bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks, a silent indication of her inner fury.  While Caleb watched, she opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened and closed it once more.  A myriad of emotions clouded her expression before she finally gave up and raised her eyes, swimming with tears and mute appeal, to his.  The sadist in him thrilled at this evidence of her emotional pain.  A slow, dark smile crept across his face.

It was the last straw for elise.  “Enough,” she bit out, and stood.  She wrapped the robe more tightly around herself and retied the belt as she stalked around the bed and toward Caleb.  “Move,” she commanded.

“I’d advise caution,” he warned.

“Fuck caution,” she spat.  “Get out of my way.”

Without warning, he backhanded her with enough force to send her sprawling to the floor.  She cried out in pain, then brought her trembling fingers to the side of her mouth where his knuckles had connected, splitting a corner of her upper lip.  Already she could feel the swelling, could taste the metallic tang of blood creeping to the back of her throat.  She stared at the floor, her hair hanging in a tangled sheet that hid her face from the sadist who stood over her.  She could see the toe of his shoe in her peripheral vision.  Carefully, she got to her hands and knees and started to crawl away from him.

“Stop, elise.”  She complied, but didn’t look at him.  A second later, she yelped when he grasped a handful of her hair and hauled her up from the floor.  He held her, dangling helplessly with her toes desperately pointed, just brushing the floor.  She whimpered and reached up to close her hands around his wrist in an effort to relieve the painful pressure on her scalp.  “Look at me.”

She peeled open an eyelid and turned her head slightly until she could see his face.

“I would advise caution,” he repeated.  His eyes were hard and angry.  “If your intention was to go to Erick, your only option with him would be to ask for release and leave.  Otherwise, you’ll only end up with two pissed off sadists instead of just one.  Use your fucking head.”  He lowered his arm until she stood, then pushed her toward the bed.  “Take off that ridiculous robe, finish whatever preparations you need for bed, and get in it.”

“i - i already finished,” she stammered.  Her scalp throbbed and her lip stung, but they were nothing compared to the screaming tide of emotional pain that threatened to engulf her.  Her hands shaking, she tugged at the belt of her robe until it fell open, then shrugged out of it.  Carefully, she laid it across the end of the bed, then turned to face Caleb, clad only in a long white shirt she’d taken from the laundry basket in Erick’s room while he was still downstairs.  She waited for Caleb to order her to remove it.

Amazingly, he didn’t.  “Then get in bed.”  He walked across the room and disappeared into the bathroom without a backward glance.

Alone in the room, elise glanced at the door no longer blocked to her.  She lifted a hand, gingerly touched the cut on her lip, then pulled back the covers and slipped into bed.

part six

“Keep the candle burning, elise.” 

For you  … forever.

This is a continuation.  You might want to go back to the beginning by clicking on this link:  Part 1.

Zoe didn’t stop running until she’d turned a corner, putting herself out of the line of sight from the front of the cathedral.  She leaned back against the rough brick wall, panting a little, and closed her eyes.  A priest.  Christ.  What was wrong with her?

Resolutely, she straightened and started walking home, putting the odd encounter at the cathedral behind her.  She shouldn’t have stopped there in the first place.  She wasn’t even Catholic.  She blamed the inner demons that kept her from sleeping, the thoughts and yearnings she didn’t understand that drove her from the quiet of her apartment to the streets in the middle of the night.

The failed relationships.

The relationships hadn’t failed so much as she never really allowed them to begin.  They died of exposure on the frozen tundra that made up her emotional terrain.  Zoe snorted at her own imagery, but didn’t dismiss it.  It wasn’t a sexual problem.  Sex was great.  She could do sex.  And she could date.  Engaging beyond that …

… not so much.

And that was what kept her up at night.  It wasn’t as though she didn’t want a deep, meaningful, loving relationship.  Quite the contrary.  She yearned for something beyond depth, beyond meaning.  She sighed.  Maybe even beyond love.

She slowed as she approached her building, not quite ready to go inside and climb the stairs to the apartment that did nothing but remind her of her self-imposed solitary existence.  One toothbrush.  One kind of shampoo and conditioner.  No clutter.  Not one single piece of mismatched furniture she was forced to tolerate simply because it was “his favorite chair.”  A perfectly ordered life.

Zoe looked up, found the third floor window behind which she lived, squared her shoulders and went inside.

***

David didn’t look up when the kid appeared in the open door of his study.  “She made it to her destination without incident?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” muttered Frankie.  He shuffled his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.  “Went to some fancy-lookin’ apartment building three blocks over.”

David leaned back in his chair to pull out his money clip.  He peeled off a couple folded bills and held them out to the boy.  “Thank you, Frankie.  Will you be staying with us tonight?”

The boy scowled.  “It ain’t like I got no place to go.”  He tugged a hand out of one of his pockets and took the money.

David nodded, his face carefully sober.  “Of course.  It’s just that I wasn’t sure if I’d need your help again.”

Frankie looked at him suspiciously.  “With that lady?”

“Maybe.”

The kid furrowed his brow as though giving the proposal great thought.  “I guess I can stay,” he finally said.  “But it’ll cost extra, if you need me.”  He turned to go, then stopped and looked at David again.  “Tell her she should be careful.  People out there … at night.  They ain’t no good.  And she’s a pretty lady.”

This time, David had no problem looking sober.  “If I see her again, I’ll be sure to let her know,” he replied.  He watched the streetwise kid saunter off down the hall in the direction of sanctuary, where he would, David knew, curl up on a pew and ball his dirty jacket up under his head to use as a pillow.

He’d tried to offer Frankie a cot in the shelter down the street that was run by the nuns, but the boy had just scowled and insisted he didn’t need to stay in a homeless shelter since he “ain’t homeless.”  And, truthfully, David had no idea if he was or wasn’t.  The kid would disappear for days at a time, then show up again.  One night, he’d asked the priest if he had any odd job he could do to make a little money. 

David had looked at him for a long moment, had seen the pride behind the careful nonchalance.  “As a matter of fact, I do need some occasional help around here.  Couldn’t pay much,” he warned.

Frankie’s eyes lit up for a moment before he hid his relief behind an assessing look.  “We can talk about money when you have work for me, then.”

So David sent him outside to pick up the cigarette butts that littered the sidewalks and alleys around the cathedral, a dirty job, but one Frankie wouldn’t question.  Somehow, the priest knew the kid would be able to tell if he gave him a fluff job, and his pride would keep him from accepting charity.  

Zoe reminded him of Frankie.  Perhaps not in circumstance, for she certainly wasn’t a streetwise kid of questionable address.  But she had that same cautious look in her eyes that told him she had become accustomed to doing things on her own.

He doubted she would accept his help either.

Continue to:  part four

This is a continuation.  You might wish to follow this link to the beginning:  soiled, part 1

Chloe sat up with a startled gasp and looked around.  “No,” she breathed in disbelief, then shook her head.  “No!” she cried out, and found her way to her feet.  “Michael!”

The sound of her voice echoed back from the emptiness that surrounded her.  She turned in a circle.  There was nothing here, wherever here was.  No buildings, no streets.  Not a single entity, human or angelic, in sight.  She furrowed her brow, looked down at herself.  She was garbed, once more, in robes of white, her feet encased in those barely there sandals that made one feel almost barefoot, but which protected her feet from the annoyingly hot streets of gold when the sun rode high in the afternoon.  She looked as though she’d never left.

Well.  Almost.

As soon as the thought left her mind, she realized she wasn’t the same.  She flexed the muscles in her upper back.  Nothing.  Her wings were still gone.  “You can’t do this!” she called out into the air.  No response.  Everything was horribly, utterly still.

***

“No!”  The voice echoed through his head as Daños opened his eyes and stretched, bothered by an inexplicable sense of loss.  He sat up and listened, his senses suddenly thrumming and alert.  He heard nothing, save for the normal, everyday sounds that retreat to the back of your mind.  The subtle hiss of the air conditioning through the vents in the walls and ceiling.  The barely discernible hum of the clock on the nightstand.  His eyes roved the room, dipped for long moments into the shadowy corners and spaces that might conceal …

… something.

Ridiculous.  He was being ridiculous.  There was nothing in the room, nobody in the house, nothing to hear.  He pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sat for a moment with his hands braced on his knees, pondering what had awakened him in the middle of the night.  There was a voice, echoing.  “You can’t do this!” it had said.  A girl’s voice.

He shook his head and stood.  A dream, obviously.  He walked into the bathroom to wash his face and prepare for  the day.  A little early, perhaps, but that was nothing new.  There was certainly plenty of work for him to do.

***

“Foolish, Michael.”  David was furious.  Coldly, bitingly furious.  “Unprecedented and foolish.”  They stood at the edge of an observation cloud, looking down at the disoriented angel below.  “What, exactly, were you planning to do with her?”

Michael rubbed his hands over his his face and turned away.  “I didn’t think that far ahead.  I couldn’t leave her there.  He was seconds away from violating her.”

“It was a violation she’d asked for.”

“I refuse to accept that!”  Michael turned back to David, his face red and angry.  “How is it we are expected to teach these angels the tenets of Guardianship, when we can do nothing to protect them from the dangerous aspects of their work?”

“We do teach them, Michael.”

Michael flung an arm in the direction of the remote hollow into which he’d placed Chloe when he’d wrenched her back from Earth.  “We didn’t teach her.  We made a mistake, David.  She should never have been assigned to Daños.  She wasn’t anywhere close to being ready for someone like him.”

David didn’t respond to that, couldn’t respond.  It was true.  Instead, he switched tactics.  “What of the human?”

Michael shrugged.  “If he remembers anything at all, he’ll think it was a dream.”  He walked back to the edge of the cloud, a troubled look on his face.  “I wish I could have done the same for Chloe.”

***

It didn’t take long for Chloe to realize what had happened.  She thought, briefly, of walking until she found something that would lead her back to an area she recognized, but decided against it.  Michael hadn’t brought her back to abandon her in some godforsaken — she smirked wryly — corner of Heaven. 

She rather thought he’d be along shortly to explain.

She lifted her eyes to the clouds scudding by above her head, trying to decide which might be an observation cloud.  Not that it would do her any good to figure it out.  Without wings, she had no way of reaching them. 

That they were watching her was a given.  She was now a rogue angel.  An angry rogue angel.  She crossed her arms.  “I know you’re up there, Michael.”  Silence, thick and irritating, pressed on her ears.  “You’ll have to face me sooner or later.”  When there was still no response, she sat down to think it out.

Daños.  Her heart wrenched.  She’d vanished, literally, before his eyes.  What must he be thinking?  Chloe drew her legs up under her skirts and wrapped her arms around them.  He’d think, of course, that he’d lost his mind.  She pressed her lips together and glared skyward again, her eyes skipping angrily from cloud to cloud.

Michael had no idea what he’d done.

part twenty

It is difficult for me, despite my facility with words, to describe how it makes me feel.  It is something that swells inside me, almost to the point of pain, something that settles in my chest and encases my heart in a squeezing, constricting fist.  It brings tears to my eyes.

All this … simply because i know that you are happy.

It isn’t anything i’ve done for you, and that makes me all the happier.  There’s nothing i want more for you than peace.  You’ve got everything else i could imagine anyone ever needing, except that.  So when i find my bed and curl up here, when my eyes close and i reach out for you in this place that you are not, when i think of you happy …

… well.

It is, quite simply, beyond description.

This is a continuation.  You may want to begin here:  absolution, part one

“Forgiveness is the fragrance left by the violet on the heel that crushed it.”

Mark Twain

Author’s aside:  i remember a time when i always wanted to be pretty for you.  Never a hair out of place, my makeup lightly and perfectly applied, always poised, always serene.  That time existed before i knew you.

***

The hand elise placed on the railing as she mounted the stairs trembled, but she maintained an outward display of calm.  Her knees felt weak, her stomach was still doing horrid flip flops, and she wished she’d not had the two glasses of wine before Erick had made his awful announcement.

She stopped at the top of the steps and stared blankly down the hall, considering her options.  Although she’d voiced no verbal agreement to becoming Caleb’s possession, elise knew obedience was her only option if she wanted to continue a relationship with Erick.  She balled her hand into a fist, pressed her knuckles against her lips to stifle the sob that rose, unbidden, from her throat.

She couldn’t bear the thought of not being with Erick. 

She looked through the open double doors to the Master suite at the end of the hall.  His room.  The room he shared with her, had always shared with her since the beginning of their time together.  She wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed, curl up on the side he always occupied and breathe in his scent.

After a long moment, she looked away.  There was nothing for her there.  She gave the door to the guest bedroom Caleb occupied when he stayed a cold look, then turned to the left and entered her dressing chamber.

***

“Do you think she’ll do it?”  Caleb asked.

Erick stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles.  He stared thoughtfully into the unlit fireplace, tapping his forefinger on his lips.  “She’ll do it,” he replied.

Caleb looked at the foot of the stairs through the open doorway.  He’d seen her hand shaking when she placed it on the banister.  He quirked a half-smile, reluctantly proud of her inner strength.  Despite the trembling of that hand, she’d appeared serene and aloof as she left the room.  “Quite a departure for you, E.  I was wondering if you would change your mind, right up until the last moment.”  He paused.  “You don’t typically share your toys.”

Erick gave his best friend a long look.  “She’s different.  She needs this.”

“Mm.  And what about what you need?”

Erick laughed, a short, harsh sound.  “You know, quite well, that my needs always end up being met.  It is simply a matter of patience.”

“She doesn’t understand you like I do, E.”  Caleb’s brow furrowed.  “Are you prepared for the fact that you might lose her?”

“I’ll handle what needs to be handled.”

***

The lights in the guest bedroom were off when Caleb entered.  He reached for the switch on the wall and stopped when he heard elise’s soft voice.  “Wait, please?”  The question, in a calm, even tone, came from the corner of the room near the window.

Caleb closed the door, allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim light before he answered.  He could just make her out, curled up in the leather armchair he’d never really noticed in his past stays.  “I take it you have something to say, elise.”

“If i may.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door.  “Go ahead.”  Even in the darkness, he could see the uncertainty in her eyes, could feel her tension coming at him in waves.

“First, i’d like to apologize for being so difficult with you earlier.”  She stopped, as if weighing her words carefully, then plunged recklessly ahead.  “i don’t really like you very much, you see.”

Caleb chuckled.  “I do see.”

elise fought the irritation that welled up within at his laughter.  “i wanted to assure you that i will do my very best to be what Erick expects.”

“And what is it that you think he expects, slut?”

“Must you call me that?”  Her exasperation got the best of her, then grew when he laughed again.

“Not off to the best start, are you?  The road to Hell and all that.”

elise took a deep breath, regained control of her temper.  “Is Master okay?” she asked.

Caleb raised his brows and flipped on the light, no longer interested in allowing her the luxury of the enshrouding darkness.  “Erick’s fine,” he said, watching her closely.  “He’s gone to sleep.”

elise’s eyes strayed to the king size bed that stood between her and her Master’s best friend.  She bit her lip.  “i wasn’t sure where you preferred i sleep, or what you prefer i wear.” 

“You’ll sleep with me,” he replied.  “And you’ll wear what you always wear to bed.  Which, I assume, is not what you currently have on under that robe.”

elise looked away.  This time, she didn’t respond.

part five

“Keep the candle burning, elise.” 

For you  … forever.

1.  Don’t waste my time.

“Come away from the ledge, elise.”

“i won’t fall,” she said softly, then wished it back at the flash of pain on his face.  She bit her lip.  “i’m sorry.”

He raised a brow, regarded her steadily.  “Away from the ledge,” he repeated.  “For what are you sorry?”

She took a small step toward the center of the balcony, closer to him.  “Would you save me?” she wondered, ignoring his question.

“No.”  The single word fell from his lips with cruel finality.

Her brow furrowed and she pouted a little.  “Why not?”

“Mm.  Several reasons.  But the only one that matters is that I cannot.”

elise tilted her head, gave him a small, cajoling smile.  “What are the other reasons?”

Lucifer didn’t answer, his mind’s eye occupied with the vision of her body, broken and lifeless, on the pavement far below, the entrancing light from her blue eyes forever extinguished.  “You’re human, elise.  Alive.  You’ll never be an angel.  You cannot understand.”

She gave him a long look, then shook her head and brushed past him, pushed the sheer, billowing curtain aside, and disappeared into the penthouse.  Lucifer waited a moment, then followed.  “Don’t get all offended and petulant.  You know what I am.”

elise snorted and continued walking away toward the bedroom.  “i know what you allow me to know,” she retorted.  She scooped up her bag from the overstuffed chair in the corner and stalked into the bathroom to gather her toiletries, tossing them recklessly into the tote.  Done, she turned to find him leaning against the door frame.  “Move, please.”

He turned a little but didn’t move away.  “There’s room.”

She glared at him, then sidled past, doing her best to not touch him.  She made it three steps out of the bathroom and dropped her bag.  “Don’t,” she said.  She stopped, but didn’t turn to look at him.

Lucifer smiled and sauntered around to stand before her.  “Don’t what, princess?”

elise groaned and sucked in her breath.  Her nipples hardened and rose against the fabric of her blouse.  Lucifer glanced at the bed, then back at elise, his silvery eyes darkening with intent.  “No … please.”  She release the breath she hadn’t known she held on a long, low moan.

“Isn’t this what you wanted from me, elise?  Sin, you called me, the embodiment of sin.  You don’t get to walk away.”

She closed her eyes.  “Hot,” she whispered.  “So hot.”

“Undress.  Get in bed.  Show me how hot.”

Her eyes flew open, found his and flashed.  “This is rape, Lucifer.  No different than rape.”  She clenched her fists at her sides with the last bit of fight she could summon.

He laughed shortly.  “It isn’t … yet,” he said as she began unbuttoning her blouse.  It fell to the floor in short order, followed by her skirt and panties.  “Show me.”

She felt as though little tongues of fire were licking at her sex, close enough to warm her flesh without burning it.  She backed away from him until her thighs hit the bed, then fell back, scrambling until she was nestled into the pillows.  Lucifer followed, stood at the foot of the bed and waited.  With a whimper, elise cupped her breasts, found her nipples, engorged and sore, rolled them between her thumbs and forefingers.  “Please,” she whispered.

“Please what, elise?  Tell me what you want.”

She spread her legs, slid a hand down her abdomen, buried two fingers in her wet, wanting sex.  “Sin, Lucifer.  i want to sin.”

This is a continuation.  You might want to begin here:  one

“Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.”

***

 ”I can’t defend you on this one, Olivia.”  Sera’s face was sober.

“What do you mean?”

The junior Life Defense Counselor sighed.  “I’ve told you before that this one is difficult.  People lie.  Out loud, by omission, often without even realizing they’re lying.  You humans even lie to yourselves.”  She shook her head and repeated.  “It is difficult.”

Olivia’s brow furrowed.  “But that will mean my fourth guilty verdict if we plead.”

Sera nodded.  “Five and seven were unexpected.”

The decision to plead guilty on five had been her own, a sacrifice to save Jason from what would surely have been his fifth negative verdict.  And seven had fallen due to a couple factors:  Sera’s inexperience and lack of sufficient research, and Olivia’s lack of disclosure about her marriage.  Which, ironically enough, could be used as evidence in a trial on the ninth.  She had, essentially, lied to Jason and lied to the court by not revealing the information.

Olivia chewed at her lower lip thoughtfully.  “Ten is about coveting, right?”

Sera nodded.

“Do we look okay there?”

“I’d like to get more background before committing, but ten is an easy one.  Not like nine.  With false witness, it is all over with the initial lie.  There’s no way to prove it wasn’t.  It’s just … out there.  And in trying to defend it, things could be revealed that might make ten more difficult to defend.  It’s best to just plead guilty and keep as much of your life off the evidence panels as possible.”

“Is Jason going to plead guilty to nine?” 

Sera shook her head slowly, a mystified expression crossing her face.  “Micah’s going to defend it.  I suppose because it would be an automatic fifth guilty verdict.  I can’t remember the last time someone tried to defend this one.”  She stood and walked to the door.  “Time to go.”

The crowd was nearly as large as the one that had attended Jason’s claims court.  Since it was common knowledge that Sera was going to enter a guilty plea for Olivia, they sat at the table on the right while Micah and Jason occupied their customary defense table.  The Host filed in, Sera stood and formally plead guilty for Olivia, then all eyes turned to Micah.

“I bring the case of Jason, a human soul requesting entry into Heaven.  The Commandment in question today is Five, “Do not bear false witness.”

Olivia looked around the courtroom for Lucifer and finally found him in the back row near the top of the stairs.  He was not watching the proceedings.  Instead, he was looking at her.  He smiled.  Irritated, Olivia returned her attention to Micah, who was addressing the Host.

“It is not often that you hear a case for this Commandment.  Humans have become so accustomed to lying that they seem to do it with impunity.  They’ve even developed justification for some lies, given them innocuous sounding names.  “White lies,” they call them, and believe themselves noble in their dishonesty, for they spared someone’s feelings by not telling them that they do, indeed, look fat in those pants.”

A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd as Micah continued.  “Today, I am defending a man who needs no defending.”

The laughter abruptly stopped.  Micah smiled into the silence and waited, then turned and pointed at Jason.  “Digging as far back into his past as possible, I could not find a single scrap of evidence that this man has ever lied.”

Olivia felt her lips spread in a smile.  She reached out and squeezed Sera’s hand, then glanced triumphantly over her shoulder at Lucifer.  He looked back at her, his expression serene, and didn’t move.

One of the angels spoke.  “Very well.  Does anyone else have any evidence to present in this case?”  The entire gallery turned to look at Lucifer, who shrugged.

The angel to the far right stood.  Olivia couldn’t remember him ever speaking before, and a sense of dread washed through her.  “I did my own research on this one.  I, too, was astonished at the fact that I couldn’t find one instance of untruthfulness in this human’s entire existence.  It is really quite unprecedented.”

Olivia held her breath and stole a look at Jason out of the corner of her eye.  He was watching with interest.

“I feel moved, however,” the angel continued, “to point out that his honesty is often not kind.  So, while he is not in violation of this commandment, his obedience does not necessarily mean he is fit to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.  To that end, although we find him not guilty, perhaps we might consider the way we judge bearing false witness in the future.”

With that, the Host abruptly vanished and the courtroom began to empty.  Sure she would find him smirking in satisfaction at Jason’s reprimand, Olivia looked up toward his seat.

He was gone.

ten

You know my weaknesses.  Use them.  Come at me with your razors, your whips, and your brandy.  It is not these things i fear. 

No.

Pain can break me, make me pliable, render me less.  Use it.  Do not heed my cries for mercy, for that is my weapon.  i know your weaknesses and i am not above exploiting them.  You need me in ways you cannot admit, and it is there that i triumph, for i know of my own need.  Know of it and offer it eagerly.

Can you destroy me?  Mm.  ~soft laugh~  Can you rip from me my precious silver linings, strip me of my optimism?  i don’t think so.  i think you fear my destruction, not for what it will do to me, but for what it will do to you.

Destroy me.  God, yes.  Please.  Destroy me.

Then find a way to live with it.