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 Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 1:42 pm
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Medea turned to Sasha, expression entirely fascinated. The insect wiggled and squirmed out of her fingers, crawling into a crevice on the ground. "What's this?" She was inside the cage in a heartbeat.
"You are such a beautiful creature, and yet, you could sacrifice yourself for these lesser men. I do not understand you humans, your emotions, the way you throw yourself, your very mortal lives away." She stepped closer, as if daring the trainee to defy her, before curling one hand around Sasha's cheek. Her fingers were ice cold. "As you wish, you have my permission to die, however-"
She snapped her hand away, turning around, thoughtful. "You also have my permission to fight. I find it a pity for you to discard your life when there are so many lesser than you, less gifted than you. Now, will you fight, free yourself, or will you succumb to your own predetermined fate?"
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 2:09 pm
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On her knees, Sasha watched as the bug fell out of Medea's icy, slender fingers. It was difficult to bite back the sob that threatened, but she managed to keep it inside as she stared down at the insect that crawled into the ground. Only after it had disappeared entirely did Sasha lift damp eyes to meet Medea's.
It was so difficult to listen to the words that the horsewoman spoke - knowing that Otto lay a short distance away, likely dying, only added to the tension in the air. When Medea's fingers slipped along Sasha's cheek, her hand tightened on Wash's. All color left her face.
She was faced with a decision. What could she do? She didn't want to die here in a cold dank cellar prison. She didn't want to die without seeing Jerry's warm brown eyes once more - without hearing him sing again. She didn't want to die, here, afraid and scared out of her mind.
Sasha didn't want to die like a coward, but most of all, Sasha did not want to die without control. If she took the bug, if she chose death - there was control in that, to a certain extent. If she fought, if she freed herself - there might be a chance to save the others and herself. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sasha's lips trembled as she muttered two soft, broken words.
"I'll f-fight."
For Julie. For Killzone. For the Moon hunters that had died in the Sahara. For the Sun hunters that met their fate in the jungle. For Jerry, for Otto. For Ami, Rin and for Wash - the kindest and most gentle man she'd ever had the pleasure of meeting.
"I'll fight."
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 2:22 pm
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Ami looked over at Medea when she mentioned fighting and escaping. So there was a chance? There was even a sliver of a chance?
"Sasha ... Sasha take it," she said firmly, "Fight." It would come off as cruel, certainly. It might've sounded like Ami was encouraging Sasha to her death, but to Ami? To Ami this was a chance out.
Considering their options, it was either die by bug in this prison, or fight and make it out somehow. Sasha could do it. Realization was dawning on the blonde hunter to how truly desolate this situation was. It was strange how empty it made her feel. Strangest of all was that Ami truly wanted Sasha to live. Sasha had a boyfriend, friends. She had something to return to. She didn't know enough about Rin or Wash to truly care, but Sasha- Sasha she knew.
Ami wished she had the courage to tell Sasha to stay. To be safe. To let the blonde lifer take her place. To hold her hand like Wash. To do something. No, all she could do now was support Sasha's decision.
When the girl confirmed that she would indeed fight, Ami gave a sad sort of smile. Sasha could've been walking out to her death. Ami needed to see her off with a smile. Words didn't come at first. What could she say? "Hope you don't die"? "I'll see you later"?
With a heavy heart, Ami nodded slowly. The only thing she ended up saying was, "I hope you make it."
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 3:14 pm
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The Famine elder was busy staring at Rin, turning its head back and forth as if waiting for her to give away at any second. He seemed rather curious until Medea signaled for the two Famine soldiers posted outside. Each of them grabbed one of Sasha's arms.
"A spectacle it will be then, the most magnificent." The Head Priestess clasped her hands together as she moved forward. "I wish you the best of luck, little Huntress. If you survive, you will indeed be granted the freedom you deserve."
Sasha was quickly dragged away, out of sight.
"Now, as for the rest of you," With a small rustle of her clothing folds, she turned around yet again, "I think it is time for you to rest, to reflect on your actions, your paths." This time however, Medea did not move at all: instead, everything grew dimmer, duller, the occupants in the rooms would only feel a lead heaviness in their limbs. Each of them fell, sluggishly to the ground, with no resistance, head flat against the stone.
And from the stone crevices crawled tens, hundreds of insects, squirming parasites that sought the only living thing inside. They moved up, tiny, spindly legs one at a time upwards, clambering on clothing and skin, shrieking and hissing. They were cold, the touch both delicate and overwhelming, of each antennae wriggling, of each claw worming itself, finding a sensitive spot in their flesh-
- The pain was almost a relief before the darkness.
OOC: TRANCE PHASE 2 - ALL HUNTERS: YOU ARE NOW UNCONSCIOUS/ IN TRANCE again - This time as you dream, you dream the SAME dream (same solo), except something is missing. Something is wrong. A single figure, the most important person from your dream is gone, as if the never existed. Life continues on without them but was this the way it always had been? Noone else seems to notice but you. - OOC: You can rehash/ copy/paste OR rewrite the same solo, except this time you choose one character from your solo that your character has interacted with and wipe them from their memory. All your character remembers is that something seems wrong as if someone is missing. Their memory seems incomplete. You can execute this however you like!
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 3:36 pm
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The hold loosened. Sasha was going to fight? Rin almost looked relieved. Her gaze turned over to the girl. The fear of just moments ago ebbing away softly as she called out, "You... you can do it Sasha. I know you can." She had seen Sasha's determined fury first hand more than once. These horsemen don't know what they're... they're.... the... thud. She was down again, out cold but not by her own hand.
She could remember something... maybe... pain... horror... it was mind numbing but also fleeting.
OOC Try to find the change emotion_dealwithit
She would never sleep. No matter what he did he just couldn't seem to get her to. It effected both of their health now as the wailing infant insisted with each fiber of her being. Doctors were stumped, she was a perfectly healthy baby girl. It was well into the dark early mornings and still she insisted.
He approached her crib and the infant didn't seem to even register his presence. There was one last thing he hadn't tried; without an attempt for soothing words he lifted a large black shirt into her crib and placed it upon her little squirming body. She continued to cry and he was certain all efforts had failed him and that he had failed her.
Defeated now, he slunk towards the door and reached for it. Silence. He froze. Had he lost his hearing finally? He spoke softly with a dry rasp as he slowly turned back around, "R-Rin?" was she okay?
Rin curled up in the shirt... something about it was so... familiar, comforting, soothing. Nothing else seemed to matter. She didn't feel so helpless anymore and the darkness... it seemed to recede and then for once in her life she could finally focus on the weary smiling face that was peering down at her. She smiled back, pale blue eyes alight with this new comforting sensation. Was this what it was like to feel safe? It lingered only moments further before she was out and into a deep restful slumber.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rin awoke with a start as her father shook her gently by the shoulder, "Wake up! You slept through the alarm." The young girl offered the grizzled older man a dazed look as if he'd gone mad. He shook his head and took her little hand in his and gave a mighty tug, "You're going to be late for your first day of school. Now come on." He'd spent the greater part of his morning helping her get dressed and ready even though they had rehearsed for days. Apparently all those efforts meant nothing in the face of a sleepy kid.
Hand in hand, they rushed to the bus stop and he urged her to go on in. Anxiety flowed through her as she ascended the large steps. Reaching the top she reached behind herself for the large assuring hand of her father. She found none. She spun around in frantic search of him. There he was. Waving her off from the curb. Fear clenched in her stomach as the door clicked shut between them. This was it.
She was alone now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Why were they here? Neither one of them understood. Her grades weren't slipping, in fact they confessed her grades were the best in the class. But there was something very clear that Rin had done wrong. They sent her to go wait in the hallway while they spoke with her father. She could still hear frantic muffles in his voice. Just not exactly...
Like that it was over and done, he emerged looking pale and what was that in his hand?... It was that painting she did in art class! She smiled big and swung around to grab that hand, "How is my arts from class daddy? I did good, huh?!"
He recoiled from her hand, dropping the painting on the floor.
She picked it up and frowned. Oh. It was that other painting. The one of the scary shadows she tried to throw away. Why would the art teacher save that?
She didn't understand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She felt sick, absolutely nauseated. She stared at the remains of one of her favourite books, mutilated all over the classroom floor. She buckled to her knees and then desperately grabbed what she could of the tattered pages that remained. Hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried desperately to piece torn pages back together.
A finger pointed, she didn't care who, the mass it belonged to laughed brutally at her tears, "Cry baby! Cry baby! It's just a stupid book!" the voices mocked in near-unison. They refused to understand. How could they, she supposed? They were the reason for why her books were so cherished. The people within the world were chaotic, unpredictable, it was hard to tell where reason and just because met.
But her books?... They contained facts, references, solid bases for why things were and how the world worked. You didn't just push a magic lever to make your toilet flush; that lever was attached to a long strip of metal with a chain hooked on the end that ran down to a rubber plug. You push the lever down, it lifts the metal strip, it tugs the metal chain, it pulls up the rubber plug and finally water comes flowing down the exposed opening. It was all intertwined, all with meaning and function. With reason. But people... they didn't always have these and especially not reason.
There was no reason for this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She stacked her books carefully on the dilapidated brick wall; every last one about gardening. Once she was sure they were perfectly square she slipped on the leather gardening gloves and then wiggled her fingers with anticipation, "Okay so what did you get?"
The aging man smirked, "I swear you act like you're five sometimes," and then offered her a couple of seed packets. She eagerly read them front and back as if their simplified instructions were a best selling novel, "Right! Let's get going making the holes."
The world was starting to make sense these days. There was something she could control, something that asked very little of her but gave so much of itself to please her.
She'll never forget the day the doctor suggested gardening; immediately after that session father took her and helped her pick out the most amazing trachelospermum jasminoides and a small trellis on which to grow them. They were growing strictly to her whims now, covering the trellis entirely with not a single stray bud venturing away. Even now it made her smile to see them, to smell their sweet aromas mixing with the scent of fresh thoroughly worked dirt as they planted something more.
They made sense.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The alarm rattled her awake and soon she was flying through the house getting dressed. Father wasn't home. It was okay though, she understood. Hopefully this job pays enough he'll get to quit one of his extra jobs to stay home more often. Maybe they could start gardening together again. It was hope, sometimes hope mattered more then reality.
She rushed to catch the bus which took her straight to the deli right beside the morgue. After grabbing a sandwich for lunch later she headed straight to work.
She arrived, half an hour early on the nose. She checked in at the front and headed straight to the back where she was given the grand tour. The place certainly needed her personal... touch. It was dusty and musky with the scent of sick and chemicals staunch in the air. It was possibly even more horrifying then the bodies that were contained within it.
This was a far cry from the dreams of grandeur she once held high and dear. At least she could write on future resumes that she was an assistant secretary. Technically she was; but really she was a janitor. Hired purely to get the place back in order and keep it that way.
It was still a paying job.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Drifting in and out of sleep constantly. It was like a waking nightmare. They wanted her asleep and she guessed she wanted that too... it was safer asleep. She didn't have to see the shadows or hear the whispers. But, that wasn't enough. Some part of her deep inside refused to go down. But there was no longer a choice. You took your medication or you were held down and forced to take it like you were some feral dog.
Memories were starting to bleed together and fade. She could barely remember what life was anymore. It's been weeks. No wait... she had more than one birthday. That was the only time father had enough courage to come see her. Right? Yes. That's right. It's been years then. She peered over dazedly, not entirely sure why she thought she'd see his smiling face in the window of her room. Smiling down at her again. Again? No. She's confusing herself. He's never done that.
She melted back into her bed, things were drifting off and that spark was finally ready to give in again.
This was her life now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Son of a b***h!" she cried out in dismay as she banged her fists against her shared wall. Her new neighbor the king of nuisance. Unrelentingly crude and filthy and obnoxious. Pretty much anything bad in the world and that is what he is.
"That's IT!" she roared as she headed through her door and down the hall to his, "I'm giving that a*****e a ******** piece of my mind!"
That she did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What was it about them anyway?... Who?
Rin was sure she felt good just a moment ago... young, alive, warm... belonging?... She must have been day dreaming again. She poked her horrendous army meat with her plastic spork. The underground. So full of people, so full you... you can't escape them. People everywhere talking and in their own little worlds.
How could there be so many and yet... she swallowed hard and pushed her meat away before crossing her arms and burying her face to hide the tears. This was supposed to be a new start. A new beginning. It was starting to become the same old s**t all over again.
How could she still be so alone?
______________________________________________________
Rin awoke with a shuddering sob; the dreams again... the memories... the horrible suffocating loneliness. She's going to die here, why did she ever have hope otherwise? She tightened into a ball on the floor. Why did it feel like she was waiting for something?
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 6:22 pm
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Otto screamed, a shrill, loud and terrified scream. He leapt out of bed and booked it out of his room, down the stairs and into his mother's bedroom. "MAMA!!!!" He wailed, in full blown tears and sobs as he crawled onto her bed. "Something's in my room!!"
A scoff came from his mother. "Otto, it's just a thunder storm. Go back to bed." She scorned, tired from a rather trying funeral she had directed during the day.
"No, it's not! I felt it! It grabbed me! Mama, please let me sleep here." He cried, pushing at her shoulder, the grip on his bear still strong. "Please, mama! I'm scared!"
His mother rolled a bit, sleepily eyeing her boy as he stared down at her. His eyes were wet with tears, his nose red from sniffling. He was terrified, on the verge of a full blown temper tantrum. The heavy set woman sighed softly, opening up her blankets and letting the boy crawl in with her. He clung to her warm, soft body, shuddering uncontrollably even as she wrapped him in her arms.
"There there, babycakes." She coo'd softly, kissing his forehead. She dealt with high emotions on a daily basis. She always had to deal with them on a calm, professional level. Grieving families and loved ones. Dealing with a scared little boy afraid of a thunder storm was nothing. She was often hard on Otto, but seeing her little boy so terrified kicked her maternal instincts into high gear.
Otto sniffled, feeling better now that he had his mom to protect him. Still, the bed felt kind of empty. Someone was missing. He was supposed to feel better, and he kind of did, but whatever was missing was starting to bother him.
~~~
Otto nearly hyperventilated, hesitantly approaching every display with awe and wonder. A guitar? Maybe a bass? One after another, Otto explored, until he stopped at one display. A brilliant display of bright orange drums, sparkling in the spot light.
"Drums? Ooooh, I should have known. Your mom is going to haaaaate me." His grandfather laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischievous delight. Otto grinned happily, eager to bring home the toy that would give his hard working mother headaches for life.
But was it just his mom at home that would scorn him for the noise level? He'd been certain that....
~~~
Otto piled on more and more harsh words until Kim cried too, slapping the distraught boy across the face. She left him, ending their relationship indefinitely.
He'd over done it. If he had been civil, they could have at least remained friends. But he'd destroyed that bridge, and his pride wouldn't let him apologize or even talk to her again. The closest he'd ever let someone get to his soft side, the best friend he'd ever had. He'd just pushed her so far away that it left a gaping hole inside.
Otto was back home now, shutting the door behind him with a loud and careless slam. His mother stormed into the room, her brown eyes dark with irritation. "Just what do'ya think you're doin', boy? Breakin' the house?! And why in Hell are you out so late again?!" Otto stared at his mother with a pained expression. He wanted to yell at her. This was her fault. She was always on his back about how Kim was a distraction, how she kept him out so late.
"I hope you're Goddamn happy, now!" He managed to finally cry out, tears now streaming down his face. "She's gone! Just like you always wanted!" It was her, right? She was the one always yelling at him... wasn't she? It had to have been her.. no one else ever lived with them, right?
His mother's face fell. "Otto.."
Otto ran up the stairs. Into his room on the 3rd floor. His mother was on his heels. "Leave me alone!" He wailed, turning around to face his mother. It wasn't long after that a pair of big, soft arms wrapped around him. He was enveloped in a mother's warm embrace. Her son was in pain, crying and sobbing in her arms. Heartbroken. She wasn't about to let him suffer all by himself. "I'm so sorry, baby." She murmured softly, threading her fingers through his messy blonde hair. "It's okay..."
"Everything's gunna be okay, baby..."
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 9:14 pm
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Ami tried to stand, tried to move from her spot in the corner, but her nothing responded. Her eyes dilated, pupils wide as things got dark- too dark. Things were foggy, but Ami could see the bugs swarming in. She choked out a scream.
She hated bugs. She REALLY hated bugs. There were only two people on the island who knew about her fear of bugs and reptiles- Wilson, and Rin. Now she was sure the entire world would know because of how loud she was screaming.
It began slowly, one crawling up her leg, one her arm. They slithered, little feet touching her all over. She tried to push them away, kick, flail her arms, but her body wouldn't take orders. It just stayed their, limply positioned against the bars.
Then came the pain. The wound she gained from fighting Gene was reopened, the tattoo on her back being torn apart. She screamed even as they crawled in mouth, tearing the flesh of her creeks from the inside out. It pinched and burned- agonizing pain over took her. Everything went dark.
---
The images repeated. That night on the stairs. Her childhood trips to the library. The drawings.
High school was different. She couldn't help but feel there was someone missing. Someone she was supposed to meet, someone she was supposed to know.
"Maria Waters," the teacher called in the classroom.
"Present," a voice droned back.
"Misha Yakshov."
Ami looked up at the roll call, somewhat confused. That wasn't right. There was supposed to be another name there. One was missing. There was a name that went right in between Maria and Misha.
A concerned friend looked over at her. "Uhhh, Ami, you okay?"
"Yeah ... Where's Adam? Is he skipping today?"
"Who?"
"Adam?"
"I don't think we've ever had an Adam ... I think Alan's gone today though?"
"Oh ... that was probably it. Nevermind."
---
The same street in New York. That much hadn't changed. Her apartment was smaller dingier. Nobody roomed with her, though she distinctly felt as though someone should have. None of her friends had moved to this part of New York though, so she had no options anyways. She was living off her father's money and a part time job.
Still, she did well in school. Phenomenal actually, considering she had no distractions.
The phone rang once, twice. She picked up and listened, having the same conversation she swore she had before. "I see ... thank you," she said, before hanging up. A hand flung to cover her mouth as the tears came out. She would've given anything for a hug, but alas it was a busy street in New York.
She ducked down a lesser known alleyway and sagged against the brick wall. Her mother was in the hospital. The chances were low. She cried, big crocodile tears, her emotions bared to the world.
When all was said and done, she wiped her face and continued home to her apartment, where she mulled things over. Alone.
---
After college she became a success, all things considered. She'd turned to journalism, and was rather well known for it. Not rollicking fame to say the least, but her name was known in the literature world. In today's marketing world, she was rather well-to-do.
"So you really haven't dated since-"
"No Maurice," Ami said with a smile. "I told you, I've dated, I've just never found him. Rather, he hasn't found me." Ami always had a strange, distant way of talking about "him."
"So there's no Mr. Right for you yet~" she teased, walking towards the doorway of Ami's office.
"Mr. White," Ami corrected instantly. Her eyebrows furrowed. Why had she said that? She didn't even know anyone with a last name of White.
"What was that?" Maurice said, clearly confused.
"Oh ah- nothing, nothing. Thanks for today," Ami said, shaking her head and throwing a hand in the air, as if to whisk the thoughts away.
---
"You're ... you're just okay with it?" Ami said, entirely incredulous.
"It's ... a little weird, but it's not THAT weird," he said, cupping her chin. "You're still Miss Amalie Raine to me. Well ... for now." He let out a pleased laugh and brushed his lips against hers.
Ami's eyes went wide. It always alarmed her when men kissed her. It was a warm feeling, a happy one no doubt. She didn't dislike it. It just felt somewhat wrong. It felt like she was a little kid being caught stealing gum from a store. She was ignorant, like a child, as to why it was wrong. It just ... didn't feel right, like someone was shaking their head at her. If she was religious she would've equated it to sin.
She broke the kiss as her hands trailed down to rest on his chest. "You're sure?" It still didn't feel right.
"I am! So what if you see shadows and monsters. It sounds fantastic if you ask me." He looked at her suspiciously. "Can you not trust me, Ams?"
The nickname jarred her. "No no! I just feel like ... I've done this before. Deja vu, I suppose?" she said. Her eyes were glazed over as she tried to remember where she'd done this before. That was impossible though, right? She'd never told anyone her secret- no one but her father and mother knew. Her father pushed it away and her mother was dead, so this would have been the only person... So why ...
"Ami ... Earth to Ami!" he said playfully, waving a hand in front of her face. "It's okay, I really don't mind." He put a hand through her long, strawberry blonde hair, combing softly. "In fact," he said, with an ounce of pride in his voice, "Thank you for trusting me with it."
She smiled and said, "I should be thanking you!"
"Tell me something?" he said, "They're not ... dangerous are they?"
"No. They've never hurt me, anyways. I wonder sometimes, though. Their purpose, why they're always watching. It scares me sometimes, but they've never ... it's never happened."
He pulled her closer and said, "Well if they do, you'll let me know?"
"Mmm," she said in agreement, putting her head on his shoulder.
It still felt wrong. Happy, but wrong.
---
Those memories weren't right. They weren't hers. Some were hers, but someone had tampered with the latter half. Adam wasn't there to bring her life to a screeching hault midway. He wasn't there to send her on the path to Deus Ex Machina. So would she have been happy like that? Her success in that alternative universe told her yes, but her mind told her no. Nothing would compare to the happiness she felt in Adam's arms.
Ami awoke with such a screeching pain that she couldn't even be bothered to speak, move, even breath it felt like. The pain radiated out of her back, holes covering it like her dorsal side was a shooting range target. Her mouth was even worse. Her eyes wouldn't open, so all she could do was think. Junpei was screaming in her ears, worried spouts of "are you okay?" coming out, but they didn't register. Through the muddle, Ami tried to communicate with him.
It was strange, she only had one thought. Do you regret picking me?
< No, but- >
Then why?
< Now's not the time, you have to- >
You could've had anyone.
< Is it really that important? >
Yes.
< I wanted to make you smile, okay? Now really- >
She was vaguely aware this conversation couldn't possibly take place. It was improbable with the damage her body had taken. Maybe the horseman magic was somehow making her imagine things. Maybe this conversation didn't take place at all, and her mind was making it up. It didn't matter. Everything seemed to fade out, Junpei's words, the pain. Now there was only darkness.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2012 11:09 pm
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Wash barely had time to even feel woozy, his hand slowly slipping from Sasha's. He didn't remember hitting the floor.
The uncomfortable itch of new flannel pajamas, his mother's gardenias, peeping over the windowsill. Crickets sang, frogs croaked. It was all the same, yet somehow different. His siblings were nowhere to be seen- he could hear them, arguing over the TV in the other room. He sat alone in the den, facing an empty, worn armchair. The den was dark- the lights were all off. A flat, cold glow emanated from the kitchen. He was all alone. He picked at the threads of the old, fuzzy smoking jacket he wore over his nighties, wondering why it seemed so familiar.
The clatter of a cup on a saucer from the other room. A voice, yelling, too distant to make out the words. Something about 'noise' and 'bed'. Little Wash sighed, and ambled up into the vacant chair, pulling a weathered old bible from beneath the cushions. He read to himself then, as he had every night.
And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.
He shook his head, shuffling through the pages, searching for something applicable. Something comforting. Something familiar.
“I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
No, no. That wasn't right either. A bleak frown. More pages turned.
Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the name of the Lord and rely on his God.
Wash closed the book, stuffing it back into the cushions. He didn't know why he'd held onto it- it had been his father's, she'd told him. His mother, she hated the thing. But he kept it, kept hoping, somehow- maybe there had been a message to him somewhere in it's pages. His whereabouts. What he thought of him. Why he'd left him. But he was young, and the book was vast- and often presented harsh realities. Without someone to guide him, it was a cold comfort. Without a role model, without a living representative- it was worthless.
This would be the last time he'd ever look at the book again.
His vision faded to static, like a bad TV signal, dark falling to dark; a soundless void. Wash opened his eyes, and he was someplace new, strange. He didn't recognize it- it was an apartment, and he was arguing with someone- Denise. She had gotten pregnant. They'd only been dating six months, and she was pregnant, glowing with the joy of her announcement. But Wash only felt fear. He'd never had a father- he didn't know how to be a dad. She didn't understand at first; how he felt, what he wanted. But when she realized, when he'd said the words, you don't have to keep it - she'd stormed out and left. Left him standing there, a cold knot of fear in his gut. He let her go. He watched her walk out the door, and was disgusted by his own cowardice.
This would be the last time Wash ever spoke to her again.
The vision faded - skipped forward. He was in Deus now, but it was- different, somehow. He'd been living alone for some time before the incident, before he had been made an offer he couldn't refuse. He was staring at the ceiling, crying, remembering Julie. Remembering what had happened. He had been so relieved, when they'd left her to rot in the sands. He had hidden in the back, away from everyone. After all, he had a sword, not a weapon designed to help rescue, but to harm...
A sword? No, that didn't seem right, but there it was. A distant part of him wondered what had happened. Hadn't Sally chosen him? The memories chugged on, ceaselessly, oblivious to his confusion.
A phone call. Wash got the news with a phone call. There'd been an accident - his brother, his sister, his mother. He'd gotten tired of their antics, their drawing-room psychic bullshit. He'd told them as much, told them they could go to their meetings on their own dime. He was a sophomore in college. He didn't have time to be their chauffeur.
But his mother had never been a good driver, and his brother had hurt his hand cooking the other night, and she was the only one with a license. She never saw the car. Never realized they were in the wrong lane. No survivors, they'd said.
No insurance- they couldn't afford it. Wash just kept nodding, even after the police hung up, even after the coroner called to ask about funeral arrangements. Something was wrong. Something was missing.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
The images came faster now, and in no particular order - Amphi, crying, as he walked away from her cell. He didn't respond to her- wouldn't risk it. Jerry, glasses askew, firing into shadows at abandon, alone in the schoolhouse. Slowly being overwhelmed by his guilt and the monsters, inside and out - someone else had come to his aid then. Wash wouldn't risk his neck for anyone. Al and Syd and Sasha, fighting the monsters in the Antartic - Wash following slowly behind, avoiding the worst of the fray.
He didn't care about them, not really. He just wanted to save himself- but he was a drowning man, and there was no redemption in sight. He couldn't understand.
And over all that, an eerie silence.
Wash blinked. He was sitting on that threadbare couch again, but he was taller; the perspective was different. His good eye saw fine, but- he raised his hand to his left eye and found it swollen shut. He wore the is same dusty pair of jeans, knees caked in sand that he'd passed out in. His coat, with its strange gold embroidery was there too, scarf trailing over it and the t-shirt underneath.
His eyes slowly travelled to that worn, old armchair, scared at what he might - or might not - find.
An old book, smelling of musty pages.
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Zoobey generated a random number between
1 and 4 ...
1!
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2012 11:06 pm
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Through the haze of pain, muffled voices.
Clang.
And then everything was suddenly clear as two Famine soldiers charged in. They paused for a second before one of then pointed at Wash. "That one, over there."
The trainee's cage was unlocked as he was roughly dragged up by both arms. "You have been chosen to fight."
The three left with another empty clang of the cages.
As they left they forgot one crucial thing: they did not lock the main prison entryway.
Ravvlet -Wash finds himself dragged until he arrives in the middle of a strange sandy colosseum, his ankle shackled to the ground. Above him are leering horsemen spectators and inside the arena with him, Sasha. Ironically, it is quiet. Perhaps before the next event. - Wash is now here! (ICLy arriving right at the latest horsemen/ Sasha post)
OOC EVERYONE ELSE: The prison main door is open! The bars are old and rust, if your trainees can get past their individual cages, they can BREAK FREE. - Trainees CANNOT summon their weapon. They need to EXAMINE THEIR ROOM. Each room has a not-so-modest toilet, unused rusted chains, bits and pieces of pebble, the remains of the last occupant in the form of skeletons and not much else. Please put all investigations and action attempts to break the bars in BOLD RED. - Your character's current status effect is: FUNCTIONING. They remember things, but at a slow, trickling pace. It sometimes hurts to move, though any wounds they seem to have sustained have healed.
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2012 7:39 am
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Otto awoke to a muffled, yet distinct sound. The sound of metal clanging. Opening his eyes he didn't see much right away, though he heard voices. Muffled, but voices he did not recognize for sure. He wearily blinked back the blur from his vision, making out figures dragging away someone dark. Wait.. that was Wash, wasn't it? More noise and then they were gone.
Otto weakly got himself up in a seated position. Had he been sleeping? He felt sore, stiff and delirious. His neck felt sore most of all, but rubbing his hand behind it garnered nothing. There was nothing there at all.
His eyes slowly adjusted, taking in what was around him. First of all he noticed the contents of his cell, and the remain of the previous occupant. Ew.. didn't these horsemen take out their trash once in a while? Gross. Next his gaze slid to the other cells. Fellow trainees. But only Ami and Rin remained. Where had they taken Wash and Sasha?
His head hurt. Otto rubbed his temples, closing his eyes a moment. He paused, opening his eyes and staring down the hall. The main doors were open. His mind slowly turned the gears that made him function, coming to a conclusion. Their chances of escape were.. better-ish. Still, if they even did get out, never mind how wobbly he felt, he'd not be going anywhere without Wash and Sasha.
His gaze turned back to his cell again. There wasn't much in terms of escape. He still needed to break the bars, or unlock them. Maybe he could pick the lock, like in movies? But he needed something.. thin and sharp. Maybe that poor guy's finger bones might to the trick.... Or maybe if he wrapped the weakest part of the cage in chains and pulled...
His head spun.
"Ami? Rin?" He asked weakly, "You gals okay?" Maybe they had more input on this. They were adults, right? Surely adults had all the answers. |
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2012 12:57 pm
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Posted: Sat Aug 04, 2012 3:38 pm
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Ami woke up last, not responding to Otto's call initially. Before acting, a hand went to her cheek, rubbing slowly. Gone. The gaping holes where gone. How? Perhaps it was an illusion set upon them by the horsemen. She wouldn't put it past them.
She blinked wearily through the fuzz and static until her vision cleared enough to see her surroundings. A crude toilet- Ami was thankful she didn't have to go. A skeleton, some chains. Still as bleak as ever.
She noticed Otto and Rin moving around their cells, fiddling with the various objects in it.
"Otto? What are you doing?" she asked quietly, hand moving to rub her back. There were bumps, areas where the skin should've been smooth, but wasn't. Were the bugs still in her somehow? No, it wasn't that dramatic. She took a deep breath. "Where's Wash?" she asked quietly. Her mind was already coming up with the inevitable result that he was probably ... dead, but she wanted to ask and confirm nonetheless.
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