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 Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 1:36 am
Quote: Jan @******** My love will overcome your hate and rage. Like taming a wild animal. The phone hit her wall with a satisfying crack. It burst apart, it's various pieces clattering to the floor. Silencing Jan this way was about as useful as her last attempt, and irrational rage filled her that he'd do this to her a second time in a single day. Too easily he'd summoned that blind, violent anger that only resulted in consequences and a quiet, growing terror that this was going to keep happening. It was totaled of course. Two days for a replacement he'd said, as if the other tech hadn't given him a confused look before concurring. As if she was exactly as ******** stupid as everyone seemed to think. When she'd explained what duty she was on the next few days, they'd just grinned and given her an emergency pager. A ******** pager. Well, joke was on them. America hadn't wanted to take a ******** phone out there anyway. It'd just re-invite Jan to ******** up her day still further. She needed this time alone and well away from him. The unspoken war between man and girl she'd willingly entered was what she'd expected, true, but he had gained a weapon she'd been unprepared for. She needed to regroup.
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Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 1:39 am
On her way out, she slipped a note under his door. No mistakes were to be repeated between the two of them. astrazilla Konstantin,
My phone broke, it'll take a few days to get replaced. Been put out in the jungle for repairs for the meanwhile as punishment for the pod thing. Got a pager (why do they even have these I mean really) in case of emergency. Same number.
America
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Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 3:01 am
The island's old jungle outpost had been abandoned for years after the nicer, sturdier high hide got built. Prior to the hurricane, it was a glorified treehouse, covered in thick brown vines and overgrowth. Now it was full of holes and missing sections of rood and wall, but Simon said he wanted it repaired and usable. She been doing so much repair work since waking, after all.
There was a rope ladder leading up, a neat pile building supplies on the ground, and just America herself for the next few days or however long it took. She didn't think it'd take too long. The building itself was pretty small, and she was familiar enough with hurricane repairs, all said. The girl spared a moment to consider whether the assistant had known the honesty and exertion of the work was something she needed and craved after
his throat was so...so very pale and thin, but it wasn't weak, even as he lay under her, gasping for words but not for release, it wasn't weak at all
...after a difficult day. There were still hours of daylight left, and it'd be best to make sure the floor was wholly secure and that the roof would be collapsing in on her during the night.
America hummed softly as she checked the ropes and supports and by the time she'd begun hauling up supplies, the sound had turned into the quiet nonsense songs of children long used to keeping themselves occupied.
"...pulling pulleys oh my my I hope this rope stays true and spry... twisting twisted oh me oh my better check this tie...lilies lilies dressed in white, seein' you here, he didn't think you the type..."
Taking hammer to wood and nail, an act of productive aggression that required focus and precision, made her wonder if this was where she'd gone so terribly, terribly wrong.
rage crashing down like a wave, obscuring everything beyond it, drowning drowning drowning her with his voice in her ear
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Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 4:21 am
Boys are sweet but men are exciting.
It was something she'd held true for the past several years, ever since the first and the worst. The one where she'd both lost and discovered that there was something to be lost. Never again, she'd thought staring through the cracks of a greasy gas station mirror at an uncertain stranger who slowly gave way to the truth of her, unflinching and unforgiving and never, ever, in doubt of just who she was. She wouldn't run or deny, and she'd take her pleasures without hesitation or shame. But never again would she allow some man to warp her into something he wanted. Never again would she allow someone to make her feel owned and owing.
Men like that saw a girl and they thought naive. They saw enthusiasm and twisted it into a desperation. For attention, for affection, for whatever it was he, and only he could give her. There was a cruelty in the men that enjoyed it, that sought it out, and in turn she enjoyed giving them the pleasure of her company, the eager sweetness of her everything else, but never the rest. It was a game of sorts, an unspoken war, never lying or running, but carefully hiding the soft vulnerabilities, controlling the dynamics between man and girl with a hundred small gestures that declared I am my own. Men could think what they liked, but it was her victory to make sure it never turned to truth.
She was used to them using compliments, so easy to open the door to her vanity, so easy to turn backhanded, to plants seeds of insecurity. And then there were gifts, every girl likes gifts, even if they're supposed to be considered some unspoken payment for future obligations. But experience was her favourite to come up against, because she loved it when they'd preen for her, men and boys alike. Go ahead and tell her how many women you've had. How the loved your skill. Tell her about all the ladies who throw themselves at you, just wanting a taste. Let her reap the rewards of your talented truths and gently laugh into soft, trembling skin when your lies are revealed.
It was fun, and with a man a little bit smarter and a little bit meaner, it was fantastic.
She'd thought Jan much the same, just a bit better than anything previous in ways he had no right to be. A surprise, but not a bad one. She hated him, yeah, that wasn't going to change no matter what he did in bed or out of it, because it was the sort of sudden, instinctive hatred to which logic or further experience need not apply. But that was more of an afterthought, a shift in flavour and tone but nothing to ruin her own enjoyment of the game he offered. Which was a mistake, the mistake, she saw that now, after he'd so easily took her control with a few words he knew would enrage her. Men had used all sorts of things to try manipulate her into doubt and shame and guilt, but none had ever courted her anger. Let alone turned it against her with such ease.
She couldn't let him goad her time and again.
But she wasn't going to just get go of that anger either, she wasn't going to suppress or deny it. That anger was hers, it was part of her, and he had no ******** right to dictate or alter it at will.
She would not change for this man.
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Posted: Sat Feb 22, 2014 4:51 am
Staring out into the night, fingers idly scraping and smoothing along wood grain, America listened to the movements below. Glowing eyes glanced up and she looked down into their alien depths with a smile.
I ******** dare you.
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