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 Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:29 am
*transferred from Google doc
Gevaudan
They were blindfolded and a beak-like mask was placed over their noses, tied in the back. Lavender was stuffed in the mask to mask the smell of the half-youma that brought with him the smell of ash and fire.
Leto had been kept in her own room chained to a metal chair. Loreley was also chained in a similar fashion to Leto. Body, wrists, and ankles. To Loreley it meant nothing aside from being thorough in her restraints. Leto would know how well it mimicked the past tactics. Pulling Loreley over, he set her in front of Leto, only a few feet away. The room wasn’t large, but it fit the four of them comfortably enough.
The knight stood beside Loreley, looking over at Leto, and then glancing to the half-youma behind her.
“Leto. We have your friend here. I think you realize what that means. If you don’t want me to hurt you, you’ll have to behave and do everything I say. Do you understand?” He said, his voice even and monotone as he looked over at her. At the moment only Faustite could see the Knight who was tired, staying up all night with their captives and sitting alone at times in the outside hallway thinking and talking to himself as he turned a knife over in his hands.
“I want you to not fight this. If you do, bad things will happen. You know I don’t have any limits to what I can and will do.” He reached out, and gently touched the top of Loreley’s head.
“My friend wants to take something from you and you have to give it to them. They want what you know. They want inside your head. You need to give them something very important that you know. They will tell me if you don’t. If you don’t, then I can’t guarantee things won’t get worse for your friend. I’ve been kind to her so far, but I’m tired. “
“I’m very tired.”
“I can easily slip.”
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:34 am
Faustite
The room was dim, lit only by half of eir own light and half of the waning sunset that peered through milky windows. The place looked old, long disused, and sewn into the weary fabric of the city. In other ways, it looked like home -- long taken over by nature with telling cracks in the foundation. This was where Gevaudan chose to stow away his prey. This was where he found it safest -- or most poetic.
Each night reunites you with the feral tenderness of your own evil. The youma general's lit gaze followed from the spindly bones of once-Wolframite to the captive Loreley, then to Leto. How heavy-handed to reverse these roles so faithfully. I wonder what you're feeling now -- is it satisfaction? More rage? That same dredging fear crusted to your ankles?
Faustite stepped onward, into the room, where the warm lick of fire spilled over walls and rotted floorboards, where it caught in Leto's hair and honeyed it, where it lit Loreley's features and reddened her bruises. It superimposed lie on Gevaudan's gaunt face. Then Faustite turned, and the cut of eir split cape cast Gevaudan into shadow where the rest remained lit. In eir hand formed the then-familiar bracelet, entrapping one black hand in bronze and jewel. No word was spoken while the youma general reached for Leto's chest. Heat would wear through anonymity, ey knew, but said nothing of it for the rest of the room to hear eir voice. That black hand mashed against sternum as if gouging for an answer.
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:42 am
Leto
Her eyes were closed, and all she could smell was lavender. The longer that she sat there, the more the smell began to make her sick - it was definitely not having the calming effect that the flower typically had in this situation. It was when she heard a chair being dragged near to her that she lifted her head, tilting it slightly to get a listen as her other senses were dulled by the mask and blindfold. She moved slightly, her wrists pulling against the chains that bound her to her metal chair. Lips twitched in the slightest form of a smile at the very specific placement of her binds, knowing very well that the Knight did it all very, very deliberately. The smile faded the moment that he opened his god damn mouth and threatened to hurt the young Senshi that was obviously now sitting near to her.
His threats weren't empty, she knew that much. From the Dark Mirror Senshi that she had found deceased to the way she had found Romulus- she knew all too well that he meant every single word.
She wanted to be strong, she wanted to tell him exactly where he could go and exactly where he could shove it but anything that she said or did would put Loreley at risk.. And that was just not something she was willing to do.
The truth was, she was tired too. And whether it ended in her freedom or death, she just wanted this to end. Leto was sure, however, that it was wishful thinking and that the worst was yet to come. And the fact that she could sense a Negaverse General in the room made her temper flare. It was clear now that the Court had no allies on either side.
She wanted to scream, to tell them to get away from her as she felt the heat approaching her. Instead, she bit down, her jaw clenching and sucked in a deep breath through her nose. She cringed, and she waited for whatever it was that was coming- some invasion of privacy, unsure of it was mental or physical in nature. Leto waited, and when the hand pressed against her sternum she exhaled and her respiratory rate increased as she began to feel suffocated by the heat. Sweat began to bead at her brow, and she was sure she couldn't breathe. Gasping for a desperate breath, feeling as if she was choking on thick air and ash, she began to panic as her mind went foggy.
What the ******** was happening?
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:46 am
Loreley
Loreley was also tired. Not in the way that sleep could help, but metaphysically weary of the burden her life had become to others, of how it had sat on her shoulders since this all began. This wasn’t to say that Wolframite, or whatever his real name was, didn’t have a knowledge of how to keep her awake long into the night in terror--no, he clearly knew how to keep a hostage. But Loreley had always kept a tenuous connection between body and mind even before this kidnapping had forced them into disparate sides for her sanity, and for once it was letting her endure instead of just passively existing.
Her body moved the way an animal did as the man touched her head, recoiling like an abused pet, a whimper bit off. She was, surprisingly, not crying for once. The well was dry. Her head throbbed dully. A hollowness was in her eyes as she gazed upon Leto. The fear and pain of it all had gotten to her and, upon hitting the other side, became a numbness in her chest that was a welcome change. She had no delusions that Wolframite or his partner would let her go after this, whatever he said. And while there was a vague hope that others would note Leto’s absence and act, she couldn’t just sit there and count on it.
...Could she?
Maybe it was time to just let it all go.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:50 am
Gevaudan
He set a hand at the back of Loreley's neck and squeezed slightly. Not enough to choke but enough to show her how close she was to dying.
Leto let them take from her and as such he saw no need to break the poker chip he was using against her. From the DMC agents he killed, he knew the girl probably knew nothing of the organization she was in ans because if that there was no point in bearing her into a pulp for information.
As she whispered her apology, he knelt down to speak into the girl's ear. “The only reason you're not dead is because you know nothing about your organization. You don't even know the kind of monster Leto really is. All this your going through. She did it ten fold to us.”
He knew her feelings. Weak. Unimportant enough to be worthy enough to kill. A pointless tool against a superior you treasured. Too low rank to call for help or fight. Not knowing enough to give any vital information that might take in the burden from her comrades. Just a sack of meat sitting chained wishing you'd die so you could alleviate the burden and give the other no more reason to cooperate. He knew this with Tanzanite. Had heard her scream and plea as Ares tore into her and beat her for information she couldn't give. He hated how he lived and yet those others had died. Why was he alive? Why was he breathing while the others bleed out? He didn't deserve it.
And he had trained and fought desperately to make it up to them. To pay it back. Even here, didn't they deserve this? Those officers who died? But he had killed officers in turn to even the score. This was him. This was all him. There was no one left to want this but him. And did he want this?
He wanted the hungry frustration to be fed. He wanted to feel satisfied. It was years. Long years. They didn't even look the same as before, he and Leto. Would he have felt more in line with his actions if he killed Leto back during the White Phoenix Operation? He had more gusto then. But then again, he believed the Negaverse was on his side. He felt more empowered then. More thirsty for her screams. They sounded less sweet now.
He made sure Loreley's mask had been just as tight and secure at Leto's had been, and pulled at the straps to be sure.
“Stay good, Princess. You wouldn't want me to cut out any tender tongues. You know I brought the tools for it.”
He brought everything to mimic that time.
He waited for Faustite to finish.
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:53 am
Faustite
Whispers on ingress and egress, tales shaped with human lips, became embodied in full as Faustite flatted eir hand to Leto's chest. Within those whispers were the incandescent flares of a slow-boil uprising, of tumult frothing at the edges of the many strong-willed women gathered into the same room. None of them were recognizable. All of them were recognizable. Where Faustite knew no name, ey knew the fire lick of ambition or reticent authority or a pensive stillness so thorough and so resolute that she said nothing while her teammates railed against her. This room, this group, this scatter of misgivings informed what Faustite thought was a natural collapse.
Was this, then, the story of Leto parting with the White Moon? Did she choose with her glass-broken disillusions to abandon quarreling comrades for mirrorblack? Eir eyes flickered to and fro in recognition of Leto's restless phantoms, of all the vitriol from named Nemesis to Birhan Isat's inevitable and insubstantial excuses for a failed operation. All the rest blustered and blew like so much wind — gusts caught in cochlear corridors.
Smoke and tired sputtered into another wildfire when self-proclaimed Ares arrived — a woman so scrambled beyond measure in eir stolen memory that she had not black nor blue nor blonde nor red nor brown hair, no skin color discernible to prying eyes, no voice remembered in stolen ears. She was words upon a scattered awareness. And when, nearing the end of their twisted-up collective relief in seeing her, she deployed her pen, she invoked the name of chaos as her newest burdensome savior. So erupted that black, grasping smoke, whose jilted helices scathed that whole room.
So ended the lives of half those teens, each renouncing whatever milquetoast backdrop propped up the White Moon and stepped through certain darkness for their newest iteration of Queen. Ares bathed all in a smoke blacker than eir own, drawn from purposeful tongues. How bold, ey thought. How queer.
Ares' smoke ensconced itself in the rooms of eir lungs, packed tight with breathless admiration. Beyond the mirror ey walked and beyond again ey returned with sootstained grace. And from them fled the remains of their self-proclaimed Court. They were not they anymore. Divided, they were Other.
Faustte's hand returned to emself, yet aglitter with a memory that laid upon him like an accusation. And when ey looked at Leto, at the woman so distanced from that time, that place, Faustite could not render thought unto voice.
Ey turned at last toward beleaguered and memory-stained Gevaudan, so petite in his weary, with his hostage pinned with his searching fingers. The burning general shot him a leaden look, eir head cocked. Enough lingered in eir expression to say that ey found not what the benedictine knight sought.
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 3:22 pm
She was sure that she heard Loreley's voice- it was low, quiet, barely above a whisper. She was apologizing, as if any of this were her fault. Leto wanting nothing more than to reach out to the other girl, to comfort her and assure her that they would get out of this and that she had nothing to be sorry for. Instead, she sat hyperventilating, nearly gagging on the heat that swelled around her. It was as if Ares' smoke was in the room and slithering down her throat, choking her from the inside. Her mouth tasted of ash, thick and keeping her from being able to swallow. She could feel the sweat on her body, oddly cold considering the heat that she could physically feel. She was sure she was going to suffocate, that there was no way that she would be able to escape after all. Blinking a few times in the darkness of her blindfold, trying to find some way to focus but it was as if her mind was being hijacked and she could hardly think. Leto groaned and let all of the fight drain from her, her Princess form flickering down into Eternal and as the General pulled his hand from her chest, she lost consciousness. All she wanted to do was sleep.
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Posted: Mon Dec 10, 2018 4:02 pm
Gevaudan gritted his teeth as Faustite stared back at him without any particular expression of satisfaction or even wild-like awe. Instead, he was stern in his expression and clear in that they had no found what would be useful to him.
Staring at the Princess as she fizzled out of her royal garbs into a weaker state, he sighed out. "What a disappointment. Maybe she needs to remember the stakes." He grabbed the back of Loreley's chair and started to move her out.
"I really didn't want to do this, but your princess failed you." And with that, he pulled the chair out of the room and into somewhere more private but not in the least bit sound proof.
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Posted: Tue Dec 11, 2018 12:27 pm
loreley
It was methodical. Procedural. He was lying. He loved this. Men like him always did: in the cruel, unsanctioned existence called life, being given power over someone was like a drug to them. She had known someone like that. Dated, even. And as she had with her ex, Loreley wondered if this really scratched the itch, or if it was just an anesthetic against the hole he had already dug there. That was the only thing she could do now, think herself into a mindless circle - and barely at that.
If Leto really was a monster, what would it matter to her? She who was nothing to begin with?
The scrape of chair legs against the ground brought her out of her reverie, and her heart pulsed in her ears again. Loreley couldn't help but blubber and beg, but it was nothing but blurred mumbles behind her mask. The lavender smell was getting to her. The pain her body didn't want to remember came in phantom flashes. Not again, not again, not again, not AGAIN, PLEASE--
Loreley was no soldier. She could only tear into her lip for so long.
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