Welcome to Gaia! ::

Cora sat at the bar, the only wine left in her glass a thin layer still clinging to the curved inside of the bulb. It pooled slowly at the bottom after she’d set it down, having taken the last sip of it. The slow warmth this particular red was so good for, reliably spread up to her chest, and she sighed deeply, trying to harvest it into her mind as well.
It was never-ending, the internal struggle she felt there. How could she have ever called his place a home, she wondered. After all, the only thing it had ever brought her was worries. Cora had convinced herself though that it was a small price to pay for her freedom.
“Freedom…” Her eyes wandered over her shoulder to the key wrack, and to the door opposite the bar counter where she sat.. “Is that what this is? I guess that’s what they call irony.” She said the words out loud. There was no one to hear her of course, but if she kept all her thoughts to brew silently in her head, she was afraid they would become nothing. If something speaks in the Brink, and there’s no one there to hear it, does it make a difference? If this was a legitimate question, she shuddered to think what happened to her ideas when she kept them entirely to herself. At least when she spoke out loud now and then, it was out there, floating around in existence as waves. Perhaps never making it out into space, but at least it escaped her head.
Then Cora considered the dark green bottle standing nearest her left hand on the counter top. The warmth from her last sip was diffused into the rest of her bodily functions, and the prospect of more to help take the edge of was too tempting to resist. As her left hand went to touch the bottle, Cora was suddenly surprised at the lack of solidity to it. Her finger tips expect smooth cold glass. Instead, they grasped unsatisfied into empty gray air.
Her body whirled around where she sat, her head jerked from one side to another, until finally, the form she’d been afraid to see became real out of the nothing he’d stolen her into. Her eyes narrowed at him. Again...?
“Don’t you ever tire of tormenting me?” Her voice was a dangerously quiet growl, but she had no doubt the Seraphim heard her.
“You seem upset to see me. And I thought we had made such progress last time.” The expression on his face was unreadable, as he sat cross legged on a comfortable looking office type chair. “Have you thought about what we discussed the last time we met?”
Cora merely crossed her arms at this, her guard peeked. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish this time. If you think that abducting me on a semi regular basis and pretending to talk civilly to me is going to make me forget all the attacks you’ve initiated in the past, you’re sorely mistaken. I’ve told you. Nothing you say or do will make me change my mind.” She only tolerated these now regular kidnappings because her first few attempts to kick the s**t out of him always ended in her waking up battered and broken on the floor of the Brink, picking up the pieces of herself.
“And I’ve told you, I regret all the times I was violent towards you and the others. I realize now that I should have employed a different strategy all along.”
“I don’t care about your god damned strategy!” She recoiled at him. “I don’t care if you’re trying to talk me into it, or beat me into it. It’s not happening. I will not betray the Brink! Unless you’re objective is to finally push me over the edge? I’m going mad talking in circles with you. Just stop it! Stop it!” She finished, shrieking.
“Cora, I know it’s hard for you to understand, but what I’m attempting to do is really for your own good, and for the good of the others.” He pressed the tips of his fingers together, forming a steeple with his hands.
“Beating me within an inch of my life? Attacking Maggie’s son? Repeatedly assaulting us one by one? Stalking them in their home times? Oh yes, you have everyone’s best interest at heart. Particularly Hajime’s!” The hate and anger in Cora’s voice was thicker than the dense gray air surrounding them, and it weighed heavily as it floated to the Seraphim’s ears.”
“Hajime wanted to be free. I promise you, she came to me willingly and now, she’s in a better place. And, I’ve attacked no one.”
“LIES!” Cora pressed her fingers to her face, running them down, pulling her at her own skin. He’d been repeating that over and over whenever she accused him of the crimes she’d known for certain he’d committed. “You’re LYING!”
The Seraphim gave no hint that Cora’s cries had affected him. “You didn’t answer my question. Have you thought about what we’ve been discussing?”
By this point, however, Cora retreated her face into her hands completely, her tears running hot and wet down her flushed cheeks. Her voice was a rasp again, “You are the last person I will ever take orders from…”
“It wasn’t an order, it was a suggestion. I know you’ve been thinking about it. I can see it in your eyes when I watch you. I hear you talking to yourself about it when you think I’m not listening. You want out. You want desperately to be a functioning part of society again.”
Her voiced raised up again, tired of explaining it over and over, but refusing to relent, refusing to give up to his psychological terrorism. “I can’t go back there. You know that. I’ve told you! And I don’t want to go back. My place is here! I owe my life, everything to the Capt-“
“Tavin is digging your grave for you!” The Seraphim finally broke out of his calm resolve to yell at her. “Here! In the Brink of Time. Do you want to grow old and die here? That’s what he wants. He’s happy just leaving you here to gather dust, just so long as he’s got a puppet to play with when he drops by.”
“Don’t pretend! Don’t you ********> pretend as though you care about what happens to me!” She shivered, angry and tired of this torture. “All you want is for me to be out of the way, so you can keep the Brink all to yourself. You want to take it away from the Captain, to conquer it! To use it, for God knows what horrible plans you have!”
The Seraphim paused a moment to regain his composure as he attempted to explain himself more plainly. He cleared his throat, and adjusted his glasses mechanically. Finally, he replied, quietly, “That’s what you think? You believe that I want the Brink of Time to myself? You’ll notice that I’ve never actually set foot there.”
“Because you don’t have the power to do it! The Captain! He’s been able to keep you out.”
“No. I don’t enter the Brink, because I don’t want to. It holds no value to me. It’s simply my job, to empty it out. I’ve explained this to you. I only came on so strong before because I thought that you would respond to threats.” His expression gave a small hint of dissatisfaction. “But it seems the more I threatened, the harder you fought. Not what I expected from such a coward such as yourself.”
Her eyes pierced him. “There are lots of things you could call me, but I don’t see how ‘coward’ comes to your mind.”
‘Quite effortlessly.” He responded, without missing a beat. “I believe ‘coward’ is quite an appropriate way to describe you, Cora. You sit here in the Brink, the drugs keeping you calm, and apathetic. You’re hiding in here, from the world you truly belong to.
“I would have died. If trying to survive is cowardice-“
“You think you would have died. When in actuality, you were just too weak to keep up, so you ran here to hide. Like a coward.” The Seraphim uncrossed his legs, and re-crossed them in the opposite direction. “No, I was wrong to suggest it. I bet you haven’t given that door a second thought. Too afraid to even think-“
“I have thought about the door!” Cora yelled at him, immediately regretting her words. For as they left her lips, she watched the ghost of a smirk appear on the Seraphim’s lips. She’d told him something he wanted to hear.”
Very shortly though, it was back to business for the Seraphim. “Then why haven’t you tried opening the door, Cora? You want a way out, I know it. You’re too scared to even try, to even look!” He gave her a look of disgust. “What does it matter? A coward like you, all you’d see if you opened it was a wall, I’d bet.”
“What..? What is that supposed to mean? What’s really behind it?” This was news to Cora. The fact that anything at all could exist behind that door was information she’d been neglected all this time. Her recent obsession with the answer to the question betrayed her.
Now it was the Seraphim’s turn to glare at her. “No…” He seemed to pause, considering, only to once more adopt his expression of loathing. “No, you are not ready!”

And just as suddenly as it transformed the first time, the setting was reversed. Cora was back in her seat at the bar, her fingertips upon the smooth green glass of the wine bottle in front of her. She quickly parted from it, surprised to find herself there. Her neck twisted to keep up with her head as her eyes chased the room for other occupants. The Seraphim was no where to be seen, as ever.
Now though, she had to know. There was something behind that door. Cora had no key though, and she was comfortable believing that she couldn’t open it even if she’d wanted to. But now, the seed of doubt was planted in her mind, that indeed, something was there for her. The way the Seraphim spoke about it, what the other side of the door held, was up to her. “More lies…”
Of course, there was only one way to prove him wrong. “Reverse psychology..?” She knew it was some kind of ploy. But what did it matter. She could just try to open the door, just to try. “It probably won’t even open. He’s just ******** with my head, to try and get me to see things his way. He’s wrong, I know it! The Captain said that I couldn’t.”
Her feet slid down to the floor from off their perch against the legs of the bar stool, and she walked swiftly towards the door. “The Captain wouldn’t lie, I have no key, and I can’t open it.” Then she was there, the door just in front of her. Without pausing, she reached out to touch the metal knob. Even though the entire Brink was a constant room temperature, she was surprised when the knob was not cold. It felt like everything else in the Brink. Cora glared down, watching determinedly at her fingers, wrapped around it. Her wrist turned, the knob with it, but it clacked. Locked. She found herself trying again and again, twisting it back and forth, but it would not move. She found herself growing angry. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For it to be locked, for everything not to have been a lie.
Finally she backed away, the door as closed to her as ever. “There.” She said allowed. “It’s locked! I can’t open it!” Her voiced raised up, as though calling to the Seraphim. But as she went walking back to the bar, to continue her business as usual, she felt something surprising. It was gut wrenching sadness, and disappointment. Cora realized that she was feeling remorse, that the door had not opened.
At that very moment, when she admitted to herself that she wished it had not been locked, a noise echoed from somewhere behind her. It sounded like the click of a heavy metal lock, and the squeak of hinges. Her heart skipped a beat, and her face paled. Slowly Cora turned her head to look, and sure enough, there was an inch of space between the wall, and the open door…

To be continued...

The next thing that Cora was consciously aware of was a familiar smell. It was a vanilla sort of scent, on top of olde,r more settled smells like old mattresses and aging plywood bookshelves. After she’d gotten over the difference in scent, she realized that there was something small and warm pressed up against her side. She finally opened her eyes.
She was lying down again, looking up at ceiling tile not unlike that which she saw in the room where she first awoke, strapped to a gurney. The urge to check if she were strapped onto the mattress tugged at her wrists, but the small warm presence made her want to be still. Whatever it was, it was very still. Only after a moment of focusing on it did Cora realize that it was breathing softly.
She finally got up the nerve to stretch her neck to one side to see above her chest. The small heap of breathing fur slept soundly at Cora’s side, pressed snuggly between her arm and torso. Feeling that her arm had been in one position for too long, Cora inched it as slowly as she could away from the sleeping brown cat, trying not to wake it.
Of course, instinct got the best of the cat, and its head quickly darted upwards, looking instantly at Cora’s arm. It seemed to understand that source of its disturbance was to be confronted in the human woman’s eyes, and he turned to look up at her.
Now that the cat was awake, there was no reason to be slow and steady. Her arms and legs were free of any straps this time, and she took advantage, sitting upright. The cat too stood, its back arching, legs stretching. Cora watched as his paws padded the comforter onto her lap, where he finally sat and looked up at her, as though waiting for something.
It was very cute, she decided, smiling as she lifted her hand to scratch it behind the ear. This gesture was apparently what the cat had been waiting for, because it began pushing its tiny head into her fingertips, trying to get every bit of pressure out of the pampering.
The quiet of the moment only lasted so long though. Cora’s mind soon began to whirr with the disturbing memories of the last… few hours? Days? She wondered how long that sedative had put her out of commission. Something told her that she knew where she was, because she didn’t feel threatened by her surroundings. It made sense that she was there, even if she wasn’t sure exactly where or why. That much had not come back to her.
What did bother her, however, was the idea that she was out of the Brink, for good. Was it truly over? Had she seen the last of the place? Cora was about to realize that she didn’t give herself a chance to say goodbye to anyone, when the thought was cut short by the cat. Lost in thought, she barely realized that her hands had been busy scratching the cat still, and it had begun to purr.
She looked down at it, his little eyes were slits, and he’d stopped trying to force his head into her hand. The cat had simply succumb to the pleasure of her touch. She watched, intrigued by its reaction to her. Naturally her hands slowed their labor and the cat opened his eyes full to look up at her.
His eyes… She knew those eyes from somewhere. Cora had seen them before, up close. She spent a lot of time looking into those eyes. Alex’s eyes.

The realization snapped through her, and she jerked backwards away from the little creature. Sensing the rejection, the cat bolted from her lap and towards the door.

“Hey! What are you doing? Don’t scare Alex like that!”
Cora’s head darted in the direction of the doorway, where a young woman’s voice broke the strange silence. She was dressed in comically violet colored clothing, the pants stretched tightly onto her hips and legs, and the faded purple t-shirt was a few sizes too small. The sneakers had once been white, but a purple marker had been taken to them. The only parts left that weren’t inked in were where wear and tear had scraped them nearly raw.
Luana refuses to wear anything that isn’t purple… Cora recalled. But before she could respond, the girl called out into the hall.
“Don’t be afraid, Alex! I have sworn to protect you!” If she had not said it so stoically, Cora would have thought she was trying to be funny. Besides, a moment later, Luana lept off after the cat, and away from Cora’s door.
Suddenly, she wanted nothing more, than to go back to that drug induced, dreamless sleep. She tried…

With a final sigh, Cora pressed her palms to the mattress and hoisted herself in the direction of the door. The roll of wheels and padding steps on the other side maid her wait for just another moment or two, but finally, she mustered up the nerve and walked out into the hall.
“Oh my goodness…”, under her breath came the words, as she realized just what she was looking at. It was just like the guest hallway of the Brink. Except, the walls were real, and made of painted slabs of concrete. The doors were spread equally apart, numbers and clear plastic bins were affixed to them at eye level, each with checkboxes, printed lines, scribbles of numbers and instructions for each patient.
“My God,” she thought as she walked by looking at the closed doors. “I’m at St. Paul’s. I’m a patient at St. Paul’s.”, correcting herself. Her feet carried her, though she consciously was unaware of where she was heading. Naturally it was very familiar to her, and as she past by, things became more and more so. At the far end of the hall, she saw a woman in scrubs and a white coat pushing a cart on which sat a tray of small plastic cups, filled with pills of every color. The woman stopped to knock on a door, and paid no mind to Cora as she walked by.
When finally Cora reached the opening of the hall, into the main room, her heart sank. It was the bar room… but not at all like the one her previous self remembered. There were a couple of couches placed against the windowless walls, some tables and chairs stood empty about the room. Everything was white, sterile… solid, as it had never been in the Brink. To one end, there was a counter with a long opening over to, revealing a room behind it. “The bar is just a large window into another room, through which nurses serve you food or drugs…” Cora told herself. It was such a cold memory now, but so much more real than the old one she had.
On one wall, there was a hall, sporting a sign with a red arrow pointing down it, labeled “Library”. When scanning the place further, she saw an open doorway, the sign over it reading ‘Rec Room’. Then, to Cora’s surprise, she realized that the couch nearest that door was occupied, by a shabby, rundown looking man, with an outgrown beard. He was dressed as a pirate, and he was snoring quietly. “Cross…” she thought. She decided not to disturb him, and looking at him didn’t bring on any new memories. She wondered if he was any different here than he was in the Brink. “How bizarre…”
When she decided she’d had her fill there, she walked in the direction of the hallway she knew would lead her to the library, but she paused, something in her peripheral vision catching her eye. It was another door. The door out. A small glass window was set into the door, but the other side of it was papered over, and it was laced with wire mesh on the inside. She knew very well that this door, no matter how much she wanted it open, would be locked.
Shaking her head, she walked by it, continuing in the direction of the Library Hall.

Her pace quickened as her blood ran hot throughout her. Only a very small part of her was consciously aware of what was going on, but it was enough to make the rest of her flush with anger… and oddly, grief. But she wasn’t sure why. Her thoughts felt clouded, and she moved back through the library hall towards the main room with little focus on her surroundings. Until she could hear voices coming from the area ahead.

“Now, now, remember what we practiced? What was today’s lesson, Miss
Tina?” The unfamiliar woman’s voice grew louder as Cora approached the entrance to the main room, and she poked her head past the threshold to see. “We practiced this, remember?” The woman who Cora had heard speaking before was struggling to stay upright, as she was being weighed down by another woman who grasped at her sides, holding on tightly. It was a comical sight, seeing as how the two women were both well over middle aged. One was obviously a nurse, and the other a patient, dressed in obscenely pink pajamas.

“Uh huh! Yes, I remember!” The woman in pink said, loosing her grasp on the nurse.

“Tell me again what we talked about today.” The nurse managed to ask while catching her breath and balance.

“We learned that people in the yellow circle are not for hugging. And they don’t hug you. You shake hands only sometimes.”

“That’s right. Now what circle am I in?”

“You’re in the orange circle!”

“No, Miss Tina, we already said that I’m in the yellow circle.”

“But I can hug people in the orange circle.”

“That’s right… sometimes you can. But I’m in the yellow circle. And what can you do with people in the yellow circle?”

This seemed to confuse the woman in pink momentarily, but after a grimace and a moment to think on it she replied. “We… can shake…hands!” After which, she grabbed the nurses hand and began to shake it furiously.

In her attempt to see it, Cora didn’t realize she’d inched out into partial view of the woman in pink pajamas. Surely enough, when the woman stopped shaking the nurse’s hand, she was spotted.

“CORA!!” the woman shrieked with glee, and sprang out in her direction. Cora found herself lifting up her hands, shielding herself from the impact she knew was coming. A breath later, Miss Tina was upon her, squeezing the air out of her lungs, smiling and snuggling her head of blonde hair, full of cloth scrunchies, right into Cora’s chest.

Cora struggled for breath, and balance. “I... can’t- Yellow… circle!” Was all Cora managed to get out before the nurse finally came over and pulled Miss Tina away.

“Now, now… which circle is Cora in…?” And with the brief encounter having passed, Miss Tina and the nurse began to pace away from the library hall, through the main room and towards the patients’ rooms. The last thing Cora saw of Miss Tina was a troubled look of concentration, and a drawn out ‘Uhm’.