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Post by redhavoc on May 21, 2012 0:13:22 GMT -5
*I jump back as the traitor is thrown across the room. I see a streak out of the corner of my eye and before anyone can react Flame is on the girl, pulling at her hair and mumbling something about Keats. Gauge gives a shout and jumps forward, quickly pulling him off. Oscar steps forward and hands Flame a broken ruler. He takes it, like a the curious little mental ape he is. I look to Captain, practically begging with my eyes for the order to shoot Flame, make us all a little happier...*
*Can't measure when time is broken, or is the measuring device a perfecttool now?* Youuuuuu were made to be ruled... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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Post by Arson Anthem on May 21, 2012 0:24:54 GMT -5
*I roll over, my back aching, and try to push myself up. I’m barely upright before I see motion to my left and someone jumps at me, shoving me over and yanking on my hair. Then he's gone and I try again to get up, only to feel a boot slam into my side. I curl up on the ground, feeling a bit nauseas. I’m starting to think I’m in way over my head* What do you want?!
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Post by Max Griffiths on May 21, 2012 0:37:26 GMT -5
*I take the time to kick Arson and make sure she stays down, then hiss at the others* Contain him unless I say otherwise!
*Turning my attention back to Arson, I shake my head mockingly.* Rather slow, aren’t we? I already told you. Your friends need to learn a lesson about loyalty, and you’re the messenger. Lucky you. Slink, Oscar, get her up.
*"Contain him"? What better containment could there be, other than a laser through his cracked skull? He's a loose cannon, and one of these days he'll do serious damage. But I don't speak up, and Oscar and I each grab one of the woman's arms and pull her to her feet.*
*I take my place by the window like Captain had told me earlier, rope in hand. I toss one end over the bare curtain rod above the window, and tie a makeshift noose in the other; when the traitor see it she starts struggling, but Oscar just pulls his knife on her and she quiets down enough for them to get the loop over her head. When it’s secured I tie the other end to the old cast iron heater about ten feet away against the wall. As soon as they've got her on her tip-toes – encouraged again by Oscar’s knife – I knot the rope so there’s no slack.*
*I take my eyes off Flame when the other three are done, and wave them off before stepping forward to address Arson* I think the setting is just lovely, don't you?
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Post by Arson Anthem on May 21, 2012 0:42:51 GMT -5
*Captain taps the window I’m backed up against as he speaks, but though I register the words, my attention is more than divided. The rope is rough around my neck, and if I try to relax and stand normally, it cuts off my breathing. Of all the ways I could die in the Zones, I never thought it would be at the hands of killjoys...*
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Post by Max Griffiths on May 21, 2012 0:45:12 GMT -5
*Arson doesn't reply, but I don't mind. I can feel myself relaxing, and even Flame's disobedience isn't enough to ruin my mood for long*
I get to enjoy the view even if you don’t, and by the time we’re through here I think we’ll have a lovely monochrome stained glass display. *To prove the point I slide my knife from its sheath and draw a cut down her upper arm, flicking the blade at the end so a drop of blood hits the glass* See? *I run my finger across the cut, then paint a smiley face on the window beside her head* Art!
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Post by Arson Anthem on May 22, 2012 12:02:26 GMT -5
*By this point I’m convinced Captain’s either sadistic or just plain insane, but it doesn’t make much difference to me either way.* Don’t do this - *I try to say, but he silences me by pressing the bloody knife against my lips*
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Post by Max Griffiths on May 22, 2012 12:03:33 GMT -5
Don’t tell me what to do, you miserable, drac-loving traitor, *I say pleasantly, and punch her in the stomach with my free hand. She makes an odd choking noise, her movement restricted by the rope as she tries to compensate for the blow. I lower my knife and smile a bit wider.* You’ll say what I want when I want - *I hold her arm still and cut horizontally, just above her elbow – not too deep, of course, but deep enough* - and not until then. *A second cut joins the first, but though I see her flinch, that’s all the reaction I get.*
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Post by Arson Anthem on May 22, 2012 12:04:23 GMT -5
*/They’re just cuts/, I tell myself. /You’ve been cut a thousand times. No big deal. You can handle this./*
Go to hell. *My voice is steady, but Captain doesn’t look put off by my words. He doesn’t even bother punishing me for them.*
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Post by Max Griffiths on May 22, 2012 12:06:16 GMT -5
Right, then. Gauge, outside. You have first watch. Slink, med kit. We don’t want our guest checking out early. Flame, Oscar, I don’t care what you do. Grab some popcorn, make yourself useful. One of you, find a music station. See if you can get Dr. D’s frequency, will you? Arson, dear - *She stares at me defiantly, and I can’t resist flicking my knife towards her face. The blade stops an inch shy but she ducks back automatically, and I laugh when her head hits the glass. Behind me I hear Oscar chuckling too.* - just stay where you are. We’re in a classroom, are we not? It’s the perfect place for learning! And you, Arson, are going to be lucky enough to get some real high quality education. Don’t bother taking notes. We’ll have plenty of time for review. And we begin!
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Post by Max Griffiths on May 25, 2012 2:08:22 GMT -5
---------------------------------------------------------
*Forty minutes after starting, I pause to wipe my knife off on Arson’s shirt. It takes me a moment to find a clean spot, though, especially with her shirt and jeans being shredded nearly to the point of indecency. Finally successful, I step back and appraise my handiwork. I was right about the stained glass; the drips and smears are progressing quite nicely and the effect is heightened by the bright sunlight streaming through the window. I’m far from done, though; Arson’s proven to be a most challenging student, and the main reason I paused is that she’s completely stopped talking back to me and I think she may be losing too much blood.* Arson, look at me.
*She doesn’t seem to notice, her head down and her breathing uneven. We had to loosen the rope by a few inches about twenty minutes ago to keep her from choking* Arson, if you look at me I’ll let you go. *She makes a small motion, but that’s it, and I look over to Slink* Slink, med kit. Douse her with the antiseptic, that’ll wake her up. And there’s a shot of something in there too, some stimulant or other. Get to it!
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Post by redhavoc on May 25, 2012 2:27:17 GMT -5
*I carefully step around Flame, who has fallen asleep (insane fucker) and grab the med kid. Humming with the fuzzy radio, I hunt around in the bag until I find the adrenalin and carefully set up a low dose. Stuff is rare, no use wastin'*
*I feel the cap step back a bit when the needle appears, but I don't say anything. I set down the needle and pull off the cap to the antiseptic. Gotta do things in the proper order, ya know. I dump the bottle over her head. She utters her first real scream as the clear liquid touches raw, cut flesh. The sharp smell of antiseptic joins copper and sweat. Zone magic*
*Now it's time for the needle. I laugh and hold if for her to see before slowly moving down and brutally jabbing it into her side. No sleep for the wicked*
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Post by Arson Anthem on May 25, 2012 2:37:10 GMT -5
*The pain’s dulled down nicely in my semi-conscious state, and it’s easy to ignore the voices I hear around me. If I’d cared, I might have been worried that I feel almost sleepy. That feeling doesn’t last long, though – I’m abruptly in near-agony as the antiseptic burns like acid into my wounds. My eyes fly open and I jerk back against the rope, trying blindly to get away. It would have taken more self-control than I have left not to scream. I'm not sure which of them is the one holding the bottle, but he looks no more forgiving than Captain. I try to control myself, doing my best to keep from making any more noise, but when I catch sight of the syringe I feel my breath catch in my throat.*
Don’t. Don’t, stop, you don’t - *I squeeze my eyes shut when he jabs me with the needle, clenching my teeth so hard it hurts. It’s ten times worse than when Jump stitched me up, and as the effects of the stimulant begin to assert themselves, my mind fills with images from my time spent in the Wolfblood Beach rehabilitation labs. I see white-coated doctors, a tray of syringes, double IV lines. I’m secured not by ropes but by plastic straps, and I can feel the chemicals racing through my veins. Everything Captain’s “lesson” had left me with feels suddenly worse: the pain is sharper, the dizziness more pronounced. I start to tremble, and vaguely remember hearing something about stimulant overdoses causing panic attacks. I wonder how much was in that syringe - and if the dosage would even really matter in my state. When I open my eyes, I see Captain watching me curiously, a slight smile on his face*
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Post by Max Griffiths on May 25, 2012 2:40:45 GMT -5
What’s this, then? You don’t like getting your shots? *I take the syringe from Slink, feeling a nagging tension in the back of my mind fade away as soon as I'm the one holding it. I wave it in front of Arson's face, finally seeing the fear I’d been working towards this whole time. Her eyes track the motion of the needle as it moves from side to side* And why is that?
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Post by Arson Anthem on May 25, 2012 2:42:36 GMT -5
*I shake my head, pressed against the bloody window and trying unsuccessfully to calm my racing heart. Captain just slaps me and repeats his question, and I finally stammer out* Wolf- Wolfblood. *Why is it so hard to think straight? I try to pull away when he holds the needle against my arm* Don’t. Please, don't.
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Post by Max Griffiths on May 27, 2012 23:15:54 GMT -5
*I smile, delighted. Phobias are a favorite of mine, regardless of their origins. In this case, it’s simply ironic; the so-called killjoy is being tormented by a fear granted to her by the organization she’s so sympathetic towards. It’s downright poetic – not to mention how much material it gives me to work with.* You know, Arson, all this talk seems to have made you rather tense. I’m sorry to say I don’t have any of that emotion-stabilizing medication available in the city, but I’d like to help if I can.*I tap the syringe against her arm, pretending to think hard and feeling her give the slightest jump every time the needle touches her skin* I know! People say repeated exposure leads to lowered reactions. Maybe all you need is some repetition! I want you to do some pretending for me, Arson. Pretend I'm a nice, trustworthy doctor in a clean white coat, and this is just another shot. *I jab the needle into her shoulder* You'll be used to it in no time!
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Yes, I'm still running - sort of. But it is lonely out here. Haven't seen anyone else for a while.
//