Work Text:
It was a stupid plan, Sybil realised as she waited at the Emtpy Set, stalking up and down the stage.. Kill the boxer in front of her so that she'd realise the error of her ways? Turn. Oh, yes, that was a brilliant plan, that was going to work so well – especially afterwards. Turn. When he was gone, Grant would take her into the Transistor anyway. Turn.
“What the hell was I thinking?” Sybil demanded of herself, fingers worrying the crook of her parasol. Turn. “She would have hated me and then died.”
Stop.
“Winning her was never the reason.” She realised, staring at the microphone. She took a step towards it, then another, reaching out as though to seize the offending object and dash it to the ground, only to stop before ever touching it. “I just... wanted her. And if I couldn't have her, not even Nobody could...” she trailed off, staring at the microphone. “But... even in the Transistor... she could have been... with me. I would have heard her, I'm sure... so maybe... maybe there is still a way.”
Impulsively, she picked up the microphone, putting it to her lips, and shouted into it;
“Hear me, Red? I will be yours! Forever and ever, and nothing will ever come between us!” She declared it to the empty Set, as if just saying the words would make it certain. “Inside the Transistor. Your Transistor! Whatever you want! Anything, everything! I'll give them all to you! The Process, the Camerata! Cloudbank will be yours!” Her voice cracked on the last word, and the last part came out as a whisper, picked up and echoed around the hall by its excellent acoustics and the still-active microphone. “So please... just come back for me... Red.”
Behind her, a red eye opened against the white backdrop.