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“Hey, No One.”
The stupid stick didn’t turn to greet The Dark Lord, but it was to be expected. Honestly, she didn’t even mind that much anymore! A couple months ago and she’d have probably killed her on the spot for her irreverence, but it seemed even the most insignificant nobody could wear her down a bit.
Dark lowered herself to the solid rooftop, skipping to stand next to No One, who was sitting on the edge with her legs dangling over the streets down below. “Whatcha doing up here? Not planning on killing yourself again, right?” She asked, though the warning was evident in her tone.
No One, to her credit, acknowledged her with a sigh. “Not yet.” She rasped, staring at the horizon.
“Not yet? No One, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that sounds like you are planning on dying again!” Dark whined. “Don’t you know how long it takes to un-mind control you?” The sun was setting on yet another day of the Dark Age—dubbed by the very lord herself—painting the visible sky in oranges and reds. Plumes of black smoke rose from some random car fire or another. The remaining non-brainwashed animations lived in survivalist mode.
It was total anarchy.
Dark loved the freedom of it.
No One, however, didn’t quite share her opinion.
Finally, No One glanced at her. It was just from her peripherals, but it was more than Dark had been able to coax out of her for a while. Something something she wants to stay dead or whatever—so she’d not even interact with her out of spite. Which was really mean, by the way! As much as Dark loved having everyone bend to her will, there was nobody left who’d look at her without fear!
(And, though she’d loathe to admit it, The Dark Lord is a very lonely creature. With her Angel dead and gone, No One was the closest thing she’ll have to a friend ever again.)
“You’re quite the stubborn thrall, which shouldn’t even be possible considering you’re under my control.” Dark mused, hands planted on her hips as she surveyed the scenery. Buildings, former skyscrapers and complexes, lie crumpled to the ground. Concrete and debris scatter the cracked streets as animations scurried like mice.
The only building largely unaffected by the destruction was the one they were currently on, high above the mortals. It used to be some embassy thing, but now it was no more than a concrete skeleton with broken windows. Dark didn’t destroy it only because the view from the top was absolutely gorgeous.
At least, it seemed like No One agreed with her on that regard, since she was always up here for one reason or another (most commonly to jump, but that was neither here nor there).
“Y’know, the only person just as stubborn as you was my Angel. Have I told you, you act just like her? Well—if she was sad all the time.” When the stick didn’t respond, Dark nudged her with her foot. “Hey, don’t go spacing out on me, now. I asked you a question.”
Still, No One didn’t respond. It was starting to get under Dark’s skin.
“At least act like you’re paying attention! What, did you switch from not looking at me to not talking to me?!” The nudges turned into full on pushing, but the only hint that Dark’s words were heard was the slight twitching of No One’s eye. So this was on purpose, Dark realized, and she stopped. A god like her didn’t beg for attention, she naturally commanded it. But if No One wanted to be petty, then she’d just play along.
“Fine then. I guess the orange brat can take a few weeks in isolation.” Dark said flippantly as she turned on her heel. She didn’t need to see her to know that she finally caught No One’s interest like a bug in a web.
“Dark, wait!”
Gotcha.
Dark looked over her shoulder to see No One scrambling to stand from her precarious position, coughing and nearly tripping in her haste. Absently, she sent some liquid virus to steady the other stick. “Careful,” She muttered.
When she finally caught her breath, No One looked up, that delightful look of terror and desperation on her face. “Dark, I’m sorry, just—please let me see Second—” Her words tumbled out of her mouth, one after another before they were cut off by Dark. “Oh? I thought you didn’t want to see anyone. You didn’t even want to see me just a minute ago, your only friend left in this world.”
That wasn’t remotely how that worked and Dark knew it, she just didn’t care.
No One clicked her mouth shut, a war visibly brewing in her mind. About what, Dark had no idea. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired.” She muttered at last, ruby eyes downcast.
She looked just like Chosen did, after one of their fights.
Dark shoved the thought out of her head entirely, instead barking a laugh as she turned to face the pathetic stick in front of her. “You can just say you hate me, y’know.” She chuckled lightly, waltzing back up to No One and throwing an arm around her shoulders. “I’d hate me too, if I were you. Powerless, at my mercy, forced to stay alive and aware—that sounds like torture. Good thing for me that I’m not you, huh?” She jostles the stick a little in emphasis.
Strangely, No One didn’t look upset at the rough treatment or her taunting. She just looked sad, mostly. Even stranger, she reached up and intertwined their fingers, holding Dark’s hand like it was instinctive.
If she noticed Dark’s grip tighten ever so slightly, she didn’t comment.
“What’s this? Are you getting soft on me, Bug?” She teased to cover her slip up. If anything, No One would just take it as a sign of intimidation.
“I guess so.” She replied simply. And, like it was the most natural thing in the world, No One leaned her head on Dark’s shoulder.
For a moment, it brought the Lord of this new age back to a simpler time, a time where it was just her and her Angel, sitting on the edge of a cliffside and watching the sun set over the bay. Dark had complained the entire time—about her project, the rough ground, the brightness, anything and everything she could to annoy Chosen—but her partner hadn’t let go of her hand even once. She listened and placated and kissed her when she stayed on one grievance for too long, smiling all the while. They stayed until about three in the morning, and then raced home to fulfill Dark’s need for movement.
Just as quickly as she was reminded of that, she panicked slightly and pushed No One away from her. She wasn’t even totally sure why—it just felt wrong. Something she knew down to her code. Only one animation was able to touch her like that and No One was distinctly not The Chosen One.
For a moment, they stared at each other—No One with hurt and Dark with her hackles raised. She still felt tingles where No One was touching her, slotted together like they were made for each other (slotted together like they were Chosen and Dark).
“Well, you shouldn’t.” Dark dusted herself off, trying to recover from whatever that was and return to being in control of the situation. Because she was in control. Definitely, 100% in control of everything. Yeah.
No One wilted a little, like she was hoping for something.
“Anyways,” Dark started, suddenly wanting to flee, “good talk!” And she blasted off the ground, scorching the concrete and leaving a darkened circle around where she stood as the only evidence she was even there.
No One watched her leave, feelings swirling in her chest. She felt like crying, or maybe destroying something. There were very few people left to care, anyways.
Instead, she walked towards the edge of the roof, looked down to the street, and stepped off.
The next time she awoke, it was in her bed, a chain clamped around her wrist. She’d been revived again.