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 Posted: Fri Nov 08, 2013 9:16 pm
Getting home, he expected to find his sister at dinner, perhaps with his mother. Instead he found--nothing. No sister, at any rate. And then there was no note, no nothing to explain where she'd gone. She's sixteen, Paul thought. She's probably out partying. Not worth being concerned over, not in any major way. Not yet. The war outside the doors of the apartment would stay away from her. He'd done his best to make sure of that, even to the point of endangering himself. But of course, that meant nothing, he remembered. He picked up the photo on his bed, scraped at the ink-blot of a thumbprint over his sister's face. His window hung open, the heavy blackout curtains moving just slightly. He flipped the picture uncertainly--and there was, in a meticulous hand, and address. It would be a White Moon senshi, he thought, as he transformed into Spinel. He left immediately, because inherent in that address was a threat. He had to be there, or something awful would happen to Chenoeh. So of course he went, and of course--he got to the rooftop, and there was his sister. "Shay," he said. She threw him a single, frightened glance. The entire situation sank in slowly--she stood uncertainly on the building's decorative ledge, her bare toes curling over the edge. "Shay, it's going to be okay," he said, and he took a slow step forward. That was when he noticed the cord around her neck, and her hands tied behind her back.
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Posted: Fri Nov 08, 2013 9:44 pm
In a way, he felt like he was fishing. Back in Germany, on the banks of the Rhine river, waiting with bated breath for something - anything - to tug the line that bobbed and swayed from the water's lilting waves. It wasn't so different now.
He'd score a bite, soon enough.
Bischofite sat atop the roof of a prominent bank, one meticulously adorned with broad and illustrious carvings along its concrete exterior. Grand pillars stretched up the majority of the structure, crowned only by their broad surface and clever arches complete with gargoyles. But those guardians stood weathered and forgotten - they now lacked all fear they instilled long ago. And, he considered, that fear was simply allotted to different sources, as always. Fear shifted from subject to subject, always present yet never entirely settled on the subject matter.
And that was fine. For now, he would bear the mantle of the feared one here, as told by the girl beneath his boots. He hadn't explained the necessity of her fate here - nor would he. She lacked the wherewithal to grasp the concept, he'd estimated, given her age and errant tears.
What a shame. What a pity.
His feet rested atop her shoulders, and he felt every quaking sob through his ankles. An airplane cable, cleverly cinched off to form a noose, hung around her neck loosely. He still grasped the end no differently than an owner holding a dog's leash, or a fisherman lazily awaiting his next conquest. But she was no dog - a b***h, possibly, but no dog.
The general leaned forward, almost precariously so, until his chin brushed against her frazzled black hair. He hummed a tune he'd heard innumerably - one that he recalled due to her appearance alone - clad in a miniskirt and a snug top that accentuated the strip of midriff between her two most prominent clothing choices. He smiled faintly, and drew a quiet breath. "Jesus has risen - it's no surprise. Even he would martyr his mama to ride to hell between zose sighs." She failed to acknowledge the budding song with little more than whimpering sobs. Her shoulders quaked once more, and he surmised fresh tears must've stained that vivid purple shirt near black.
Idly he shifted his feet against her shoulders, the notches in her boots shifting her forward precariously. "Ze pressure is building at the base of my spine; if I gotta sin to see 'er again, zen I'm gonna lie, lie, lie." He smiled. "I'll sell my soul to be back in your bosom - gladly, now please. suck. me. dry." He jerked the makeshift noose with each word.
If she could've lived, he wondered just how sweet and crisp an apple might taste the morning after. How brightly the sun might shine through her curtains, how warmly it touched her back and roused her from deep slumber. He wondered if she would've woken without grogginess, if she'd have sprinted downstairs to give her mother a hug and a long-awaited kiss punctuated by the words 'I love you'. Maybe - in another life, another time, she might've endured this encounter.
Finally a signature caught his attention - one of his own, from what he could surmise. Not quite lieutenant, but not quite general either. Was this the Spinel that the scandalized lieutenant spoke of? Must've been - the description fit.
He smiled. "Pray," he whispered into the girl's ear before drawing to his feet. "You are Spinel, are you not? Tell me - do you recognize her or must I recount your meeting to jog your memory? And don't dally in your answer - I haf' tourette's, so I might just spasm and hang her by accident."
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Posted: Fri Nov 08, 2013 9:55 pm
"I know who she is," said Spinel, more harshly than he'd meant to. And why was that? He was surprised. The person standing there, resting his feet on his sister's shoulders--oh, good God, she swayed and Spinel almost died to see it, he stepped forward quickly to try to catch her and--and she didn't fall. She hiccuped and took a whooping deep breath and he exhaled, carefully, through his teeth. "Shay," he said, and when she didn't look at him, he repeated: "Shay, you're going to be fine." He looked at the unknown General--because he could tell from the aura that he was looking at a General--and said, "Why are you doing this? She's a civilian, she doesn't mean anything to the war. Just let her go." And Chenoeh's hands clenched behind her back and he said, "Stay still, okay, you'll be fine."
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Posted: Wed Nov 13, 2013 8:07 am
The general smiled, and drew an almost inaudible breath - the very sound children make when faced with something they love. "Good. Good." he repeated, with more enthusiasm. This meant something. This meant that the corrupted, this Spinel as gleaned from the lieutenant, remembered his encounter with the brat at the end of her rope. And given the way he crooned at her, sought her calm in the wake of her annihilation, Bischofite wagered that he knew the girl. He knew not in what manner - whether she identified as his girlfriend, his friend, his sister. It didn't matter. She meant something to him, and that was enough.
"I'm doing zis, Spinel, for a reason. A very good reason, because she does mean somesing to ze war. Why, you ask? Because she means somesing to you, and you are irrevocably involved in ze war. But... Not everysing is about ze intrinsic values of a pedestrian, an onlooker, in ze midst of some existential fight for freedom." Bischofite wrapped the airplane cable around his hand, and gave the cord a taut jerk. An audible response confirmed that she was, indeed, still quaking on the edge of oblivion. This was good. This was going according to plan.
But according to plan got boring quickly. According to plan meant no surprises. According to plan entailed a lack of commitment to the moment.
If anything, Bischofite was very committed.
"Listen very carefully, Spinel. Civilians are... more of a wild card, you see. Maybe zey sympasize wis' us, maybe wis' ze senshi. Maybe zey are part of zis war after all. One time, a senshi made ze very mistake you did - she tried to saf'e me from zis idiot zat harassed me long ago. But - zere was no way for her to tell which side of ze war I favored, or even zat I am a Negaverse agent. So when she tried to escort me - because at ze time, I was limping - I instead chose to stab her. Now, maybe miss Shay here isn't a fan of instant gratification like I am. Maybe she prefers to bide her time and zen turn you in to ze White Moon Court. Or maybe Shay is one of zeir members. Did you ever sink of zat, or did you just rescue her because it sounded fun at ze time?" He drew a measured pause. Only after the girl whimpered once more did he dare to continue.
"We are only gods of our own perception. We cannot determine whezer someone like her continues to lif' or dies. Zat is out of our hands. Ze only way you can possibly influence her is to determine ze way in which she lives, or how she succumbs to deas'. Sink of it zis way - Shay here was fated to die. In one reality, she is hit by a bus and flung into a building, where she crashed through a giant viewing window and one of ze shards splintered into her femoral artery. She bleeds out at ten fifteen. In anozzer reality, she runs from a senshi. In ze midst of ze senshi's battle, her attack went wide and hit zis girl. It burns into her back and ze impact of it shatters her ribs into her lungs, where she drowns in her own blood at ten fifteen. Do you see ze pattern here? Ze manner in which she dies can be influenced, but ze moment cannot.
"Zat brings me to my last point - she will die here. It is up to you to determine how. Do I slit her sroat, do I hang her, do I pull her starseed and force you to eat it? You haf' a myriad options at your disposal, Spinel. Get creatif'. Impress me. Show me zat your devotion to ze Negaverse outweighs zis spineless brat on ze edge of a building. I need somesing to assure me you're wors' keeping." He breathed a sigh, and his gaze settled on Spinel.
In the morning following, would he vomit from grief, or would the world hold a crispness that he hadn't seen in years?
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Posted: Sat Nov 23, 2013 8:43 pm
"She's my sister," he said, because why on Earth should he have to hide who he was from someone on his own side? It was Tanzanite, it was that great presence that he had to fear, that hadn't forgiven him. Surely this General was only making a point. Surely he'd let Shay go home. She said, "I'm not, I'm not, I swear I'm not, if I was would I have--" and then Bischofite started talking again, and Spinel couldn't quite catch his breath. Because what the General was saying was too awful to be true. Shay was a girl. She was sixteen and she played cello too loud at awkward hours of the morning and she did not deserve to die, not here, not at the end of airline cable. He couldn't doom her like that. Two years ago, maybe, but now… now she was just a kid. And he loved her. Get creative, he thought. Impress me. Did his devotion to the Negaverse outweigh his love for his sister? Once, probably, it had. Before he'd voiced his concerns about the Dark Moon Court and been punished for it. Before he'd watched a General knocked down to Lieutenant for the crime of caring about what happened to the people around him, and before he'd realized how much of a sham this all was. "Whatever you think I did," he said, "she had no part in it. It was me. All me, and you should punish me, not her." Shay whimpered, and he took another step towards her, unable to stop himself from it.
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Posted: Sat Nov 30, 2013 9:01 am
"Oh, well zat changes everysing!" Bischofite threw his hands up in mock revelation, intentionally straining the airplane cable once more. The general watched Spinel and cocked his head to the side, his expression an unchanging sternness. "It doesn't matter if she's your sister. Do you sink fate cares if ze person on ze end of my cable here was your sister or your girlfriend or just some stranger I snagged off ze street? Were you even listening before?" He huffed and straightened up.
"It's not about punishment, Spinel. It never was. Zis isn't some engineered reprimand to bring you to your knees about dusting a youma. But zis is a lesson zat you desperately need to learn. What lesson is it, you ask? Maybe you already know. Maybe zis is a superfluous act and nossing will come of it, aside from rendering your sister a lifeless corpse in ze street. Youma regenerate in ze rift - no harm, no foul. A fair point, I will respond. But saving her is a half measure, and half measures do yourself a disservice. Sink about it - how much more motivated would you be if your sister had died zat night? If you had to suffer and lament over her dead body, how much more resolf'e would you haf' accumulated? Suffering is ze key to change, and I am ze one who wields it right now." Splaying out the fingers of his right hand, he showed the corrupted senshi the airplane cable wrapped around his palm.
And when Spinel approached, Bischofite took a step toward the girl in question. He said nothing - as he'd already clarified his intents earlier. Spinel would understand what would come of his approach - he had to, if he cared one whit about his sister.
"I will tell you one more time before I decide for you. Tell me how she dies." The mirth was gone from his eyes now. As exciting and invigorating as it was to set up unique scenarios like these, trying to share his vigor with one so revolted by the scene was an exercise in futility. He liked futility, but this was just ridiculous. The boy didn't even manage to appeal that he understood the general's intents. Too bad - at least tonight he might claim another starseed. A pity to leave it up to Spinel, but his primary hope was that the lesson might take hold.
From the sound of it, Shay was getting impatient too. And he couldn't blame her - standing outside dressed like that, while balancing precariously on a precipice... Surely she was as drained as he was.
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