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thinking about jademythra lyctor au and fuck it i'm posting my prose on the internet. oblique harrow the ninth spoilers in that i have set this during that time period of the series but without context or having read gideon or harrow this is probably meaningless. still fun tho. i love dying and being dead
Mythra does something like waking up.
It’s more like breaking the surface after being held underwater for several minutes longer than anyone is meant to hold their breath—several minutes, several hours, several weeks.
Clarity slams around her in a way that it hasn’t since. Well. Anyway.
The first thing she unfortunately takes in is Mithos with his arms crossed, a pout turned away from her, mid-sentence— “…a lyctor too, so there’s no reason for him to keep treating me like a kid!”
The second thing she takes in is the frames of glasses at the edges of her vision. The third is that she’s standing six more inches over Mithos than she’s used to. She feels too tall and too thin, a necro’s body instead of a cav’s, oh, god! Oh god!
Okay, play it cool Mythra. Step one, don’t let Mithos figure out what the fuck.
“Who?” her brain makes Jade’s mouth ask, though. Stupid brain. Like, of course she doesn’t have context, she hasn’t exactly been conscious before this moment save for a few spare seconds of awareness snatched through Jade’s eyes. But.
Mithos turns to her, brow furrowed in the poutiest scowl. “Yuri, of course. Were you really not listening? I see you truly care so little about my woes—” He stops his dramatic tirade as his eyes settle on her—on Jade’s face. He squints. “Jade?” he asks.
Mythra tries to remember literally anything that Jade would say in this kind of situation. She lands on: “Obviously.” Not bad. Not perfect.
Mithos keeps squinting. He always was a perceptive little bastard. Think Mythra, think! Just pretend to be Jade for like five more seconds so you can get the fuck out of here and then actually try and see if you can get Jade to wake? Back up? This can’t have been what was supposed to happen at all—
“So you agree with me about Yuri, then,” Mithos says, in a way that makes Mythra pretty sure this is a test, but it sure as hell a test she knows how to pass.
Who the fuck is Yuri, Mythra desperately thinks, and says: “Yeah, sounds like a real pain. Anyway if you’re done—”
But Mithos’ hand reaches out to grab hers—grab Jade’s, she guesses!—and good lord this boy does not have a necromancer’s grip! Or maybe Jade’s body is just that weak compared to what Mythra’s used to! He’s got a hand on Jade’s shoulder and he yanks the body down so that his face is level with Jade’s face and—
“Why are your eyes red aga—oh, god.”
Failed step one.
“You’re not Jade at all! You’re his cav!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mythra says, which seems to her like a perfectly reasonable thing for Jade to say, but maybe she doesn’t pitch it in his intonation enough for Mithos to be convinced. (Would the eyes be that much of a giveaway?? She doesn’t know shit about fuck!!)
“Don’t fuck with me, Mythra!” The words come out of Mithos’ mouth not as anger but as something close to anguish. “If you’re- if you’re here—did the two of you figure perfect lyctorhood out? Why didn’t you say anything sooner! Does—can Colette—”
His voice breaks on his sister’s name.
“I don’t—” Mythra begins.
“Please, you have to tell me how to get Colette back! I didn’t—I didn’t want—”
“I don’t know anything!” Mythra shouts. “I just woke up!”
Mithos lets her go.
Mythra pushes Jade’s hair back where it goes, tucked behind his ears, and then has to fix his glasses while she’s at it. God, does he have to do this every time he gets the slightest bit rustled? She knows he was always fiddling with them, but she was nearly certain that at least half of that was just show.
“Where’s Jade?” Mithos asks, quiet.
“Good fucking question.”
Mythra does something like waking up.
It’s more like breaking the surface after being held underwater for several minutes longer than anyone is meant to hold their breath—several minutes, several hours, several weeks.
Clarity slams around her in a way that it hasn’t since. Well. Anyway.
The first thing she unfortunately takes in is Mithos with his arms crossed, a pout turned away from her, mid-sentence— “…a lyctor too, so there’s no reason for him to keep treating me like a kid!”
The second thing she takes in is the frames of glasses at the edges of her vision. The third is that she’s standing six more inches over Mithos than she’s used to. She feels too tall and too thin, a necro’s body instead of a cav’s, oh, god! Oh god!
Okay, play it cool Mythra. Step one, don’t let Mithos figure out what the fuck.
“Who?” her brain makes Jade’s mouth ask, though. Stupid brain. Like, of course she doesn’t have context, she hasn’t exactly been conscious before this moment save for a few spare seconds of awareness snatched through Jade’s eyes. But.
Mithos turns to her, brow furrowed in the poutiest scowl. “Yuri, of course. Were you really not listening? I see you truly care so little about my woes—” He stops his dramatic tirade as his eyes settle on her—on Jade’s face. He squints. “Jade?” he asks.
Mythra tries to remember literally anything that Jade would say in this kind of situation. She lands on: “Obviously.” Not bad. Not perfect.
Mithos keeps squinting. He always was a perceptive little bastard. Think Mythra, think! Just pretend to be Jade for like five more seconds so you can get the fuck out of here and then actually try and see if you can get Jade to wake? Back up? This can’t have been what was supposed to happen at all—
“So you agree with me about Yuri, then,” Mithos says, in a way that makes Mythra pretty sure this is a test, but it sure as hell a test she knows how to pass.
Who the fuck is Yuri, Mythra desperately thinks, and says: “Yeah, sounds like a real pain. Anyway if you’re done—”
But Mithos’ hand reaches out to grab hers—grab Jade’s, she guesses!—and good lord this boy does not have a necromancer’s grip! Or maybe Jade’s body is just that weak compared to what Mythra’s used to! He’s got a hand on Jade’s shoulder and he yanks the body down so that his face is level with Jade’s face and—
“Why are your eyes red aga—oh, god.”
Failed step one.
“You’re not Jade at all! You’re his cav!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mythra says, which seems to her like a perfectly reasonable thing for Jade to say, but maybe she doesn’t pitch it in his intonation enough for Mithos to be convinced. (Would the eyes be that much of a giveaway?? She doesn’t know shit about fuck!!)
“Don’t fuck with me, Mythra!” The words come out of Mithos’ mouth not as anger but as something close to anguish. “If you’re- if you’re here—did the two of you figure perfect lyctorhood out? Why didn’t you say anything sooner! Does—can Colette—”
His voice breaks on his sister’s name.
“I don’t—” Mythra begins.
“Please, you have to tell me how to get Colette back! I didn’t—I didn’t want—”
“I don’t know anything!” Mythra shouts. “I just woke up!”
Mithos lets her go.
Mythra pushes Jade’s hair back where it goes, tucked behind his ears, and then has to fix his glasses while she’s at it. God, does he have to do this every time he gets the slightest bit rustled? She knows he was always fiddling with them, but she was nearly certain that at least half of that was just show.
“Where’s Jade?” Mithos asks, quiet.
“Good fucking question.”