The sounds of battle were chaotic, uncontrolled, too difficult to interpret properly. Once, Sitri had been able to do such things. The demon had helped her, or something had. Now she could only rely on herself, and she had learned long ago that she wasn’t particularly reliable. Whatever was happening, it was brutal, punctuated by the sharp scent of blood, or of other fluids.
Emotions were tense, hunting, hurting, focused on death or dismemberment, survival or severance. At the end of it all, though, there was one that vibrated, undercutting the rest with a ferocity that was too certain of itself to be human.
The waking of the beast.
Septimus was buried, whatever semblance of self he had gone or destroyed, and there was only this thing of hunger that remained, ancient and timeless, the horror that stalked men and brought houses to ruin. The predator in search of prey.
The entire train was full of prey. Uncertain civilians, terrified in their tracks over what they’d woken this night. The beast would devour them all, and Septimus’ soul with them. All his restraint, all his caution, all his control, gone in a singular bloody festival.
There was still a part of her that thought that sounded like fun... but no. Septimus understood her in a way that most other people didn’t. He knew about what it was like to be a monster. He knew about what it was to control one - and if he couldn’t control it himself, then someone was going to have to tame it for him.
He’d do the same for her, she thought, and probably less reluctantly. Sitri sighed, and unzipped.
Assurance’s jackets were pretty protective, after all. She walked cautiously towards the action, not exactly wanting to get impaled by one of the swords swinging around - it’d sure be a rush, but... no, not right now. She owed Septimus a favor, here, she’d have to get herself impaled later.
“Hey.” Her voice was soft, but unsubtle. “Yeah, you. You know me.” Move in, closer. Talking helped. She wasn’t as good with the echoes as she had once been - there was no way she was going to dodge an attack, but she could avoid walking into anyone. She could get to Septimus easily enough.
Her hand rested on his back. It was covered in blood, and there was a sword in it - neither of which was her fault. Sitri stepped forward, onto the blade. Ow.
It hadn’t gone all that deep, but it was enough to pierce flesh, drawing bright red blood at her sternum. Baiting the monster, maybe. Probably one of the worst decisions she’d made in a while, but life would have been boring if she bothered thinking everything through.
“Come on then. This is implied consent, you creepy weirdo.” His, more so than hers. Hers was active, his was a passive thing, that of the unconscious man consenting to have his life saved. Sitri was all too aware that life was not the right term here, but she was going to do it anyway. Septimus-himself seemed out to lunch, but she could focus the beast’s attentions on her before it started thinking about murdering everyone else in the train.
Who was she kidding? It was already thinking about that. She was just trying to be more convenient.
Hopefully he came back to himself and figured out what she was doing, or this was going to be a shorter ride than she’d wanted it to be.