To Own the Heart and Steal the Soul

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Ninjakittee, Jun 30, 2012.

  1. Dull, gunmetal light filtered into the cell where he lay on his back. It was rather nice, as cells went; it had a bed that was warm enough for him to sleep comfortably in, although the state of the braces that held it there were dubious enough that he had shifted the mattress and blankets to the ground. There was little in the way of entertainment, but at least there was a water jug in one corner, and he got fed twice a day. Finally, the barred window offered a wonderful view of the night sky, and often, the cell was bathed in moonlight. Syn had placed his mattress in the one place where it didn't fall, but he enjoyed being able to see it nonetheless.

    A guard, lurking outside his cage door, rattled the bars with a leer. "'ere, you migh' wanna spruce et up in thar, ya? You go' a lady frend commin yor way soon."

    Syn said nothing in reply, as he always had, but his eyebrow quirked in interest. They were giving him a cellmate, were they? Well, he knew of few reasons that alchemists would want to imprison somebody, save for the like of why they'd imprisoned him. After all, any alchemist worth the name would want to 'study' something that couldn't die.

    Idly watching a bird as it looped through the sky, Syn set about wondering who - and what - his new cellmate was.
  2. Blood. So much blood. She moved through the crowd swiftly, her hands reaching out to the closest unfortunate soul. Her fingers cupped the man's chin and forehead, then with a quick turn, the bone snapped. The body falling to the ground in limp slide. Someone grabbed her from behind and they soon learned that it was a mistake. She fell backwards with a thud, her elbow jabbing again and again into the poor victim's side. He grunted and howled in pain. Her arm mutated and went straight through another alchemist's chest. She parried, dodged, jabbed, and kicked. Howls and grunts surrounded her but fell on deaf ears. The only thing that was audible was the rapid pounding in her chest. A voice screaming in her head. The fool. How could she be so stupid? Why didn't she realize it sooner? They took her father. And now, they were going to feel Death's cold embrace. She couldn't see much. Only red. She screamed as she continued striking down anyone that she got close to. How stupid of them to create a weapon as dangerous as she. They created a perfect weapon, so they thought. Just as a weapon, she was malfunctioning. They were foolish and thought they could control such a thing. Too bad they were wrong. A shocking pain traveled up her spine and it caused her to stumble before she continued along her path of destruction. "Be still!" That voice. Her eyes swirled to meet emerald green before she felt electricity course through her entire body all the way to her bones. Her body went completely limp and those eyes watched as she fell to the ground into complete and utter silence.

    "Make sure her hands are bound."
    Her eyelids fluttered opened, and icy blue orbs settled on her surroundings. Metal. She laid motionless on the floor as the truck purred to a stop. Her limbs felt numb and her hands were bounded together, palms facing each other. A small chuckle escape her dry lips. So they did had a backup plan. The clever bastards. The doors opened and the bright light from the flashlight blinded her for a split second. Shaky hands gripped her arms and dragged her out of the metal contraption. Her legs felt like jello as they lifted her. "We should hurry." The man to her left suggested, rather shakily. A night breeze blew through her ebony waves, brushing some in front of her face. She scanned the area as they dragged her inside. Stone walls, cameras, guards with guns. Nothing too big and she was surprised. It would have been a cake to bust out of until she realized a pair at the end of the hall. A man with emerald green eyes, a beard aging with gray, and a older woman with eyes that could kill. Both dressed in black leather uniforms with a Uroborus stitched in white on the left side of their jacket. Alchemists. She snarled as they made their to way to them. His eyes simply focused on her while the other glared daggers. "Blaire Knight,"

    "Andrew and Lucia... I was wondering why you pricks would house me in this place. It wouldn't have been much fun if you guys didn't show." Blaire smiled, her voice scratchy from the lack of hydration. Those icy orbs glared back at the two. A hand met with her cheek in a loud smack.

    "You insolent bitch!"
    Lucia barked. "We created you and we can destroy you. I'm so happy that I will finally be able to silence that pretty little mouth of yours."

    At the words, Blaire lifted her head and laughed. If that wasn't the funniest thing she ever heard than she didn't know what could top it. The emotion on Lucia's face was priceless.
    "It's a shame that you will be so disappointed..."

    Andrew shook his head. He placed his hands by his side and took a step towards her. His eyes bearing down at the very weapon they created. "Blaire Knight, by higher orders, you are hereby sentenced to death. Until the date of your execution is decided, you are to be put to the worst torture imaginable. The last nights of your life shall be filled with the very misery and pain that you have inflicted on your comrades." He placed a hand on her forehead, and in a flash, electricity shot through her body. "Don't even think about self-transmutating. It will only prove to be useless."

    Her body was dragged down the hall. Her regeneration skills couldn't be no slower than it was at this moment. Her legs and arms were basically jello. They stopped in front of a cell and the guard looked her over. He opened the cell door and the woman was thrown in on her side on the stone floor. As the guards left her, she let out a dry laugh.
    "I'll see you pricks in hell..." Struggling to roll over on her back, she finally realized that she wasn't alone. Her eyes focused on the man on the bed. Great. She had freaking cellmate. Finally able to push herself near the wall, she sat up, her head against the wall. Just because they took away her powers temporarily didn't mean she was completely helpless. "Things just couldn't get any better..."

  3. Syn regarded his cellmate with polite disinterest; externally, at least. On the inside, he was curious as to why the alchemists would place one of their own in captivity - for she was surely one of them. She had the same taint in her aura as the rest of them. He remained seated on his mattress, back against the wall and idly studied her for a while. Ice blue eyes, colder than the substance they resembled. Ebony hair, reaching down to her mid-back in a wavy cascade of silkiness. Rich, honey-coloured skin; this girl had not been mistreated until very recently.

    Expanding his observance, Syn took note of the blood that filthied her body, smelt that tang in the air that signified blood that was no longer pure. Alchemist blood. Killing her own kind was a crime worthy of imprisonment, Syn supposed; it had never been an issue he had encountered personally. The child's clothes were ripped, damaged from the fight that had not yet been cleaned from her skin.

    In her voice, Syn could hear the dehydration. Without saying a word, or taking his liquid obsidian eyes from her face, and ethereal blue eyes, Syn rose from his bed in one fluid motion and walked over to the small table that held the water jug. Slowly, he poured a glass of water and wandered closer to her. Crouching beside her, he offered it to her, silently asking if she would suffer the indignity of having it fed to her in order to alleviate her thirst.
  4. What the hell is he looking at?

    If there was any time that she felt like she was being studied, it was now. Blaire could feel it and it irritated her. His emotionless eyes were set on her, studying, observing. He was...odd. It was no doubt that he was probably wondering who she was. Or maybe he was a killer? The woman scratched that thought out. She usually could spot a killer in a crowd. To the contrary, he was in the same prison as her, the infamous weapon. It was all too much thinking for her so she decided that it wouldn't be no trouble if he was or not. She was bound to die anyway, might as well collect one more soul before she goes down. Blaire sighed at the realization. It was odd for them to arrange her a cellmate. She would think they would have her separate from the others. It could be possible that Andrews honestly believed that his little trick could render her helpless forever or that he honestly wanted her to solve one last problem of his. If that was the case, she would either kill that bastard than this... guy, or both if it came down to it. Either way, she was going to take someone down with her. She looked down at her body, blood baked into her clothes. Wouldn't be a surprise if they kept her in these rags.

    Her eyes quickly lifted to the man as he raised from his perch and walked over to the glass. She raised an eyebrow at this. His movements were precise, and calculated. Interesting... She watched him closely as he walked over towards her, her instinct calling for her muscles to move. Just a little. Her limbs were numb to the bone. Her hands were still bound. Her body wasn't regenerating quick enough and it irritated her soul. Her eyes narrowed as he crouched beside her, the glass in hand. She scoffed. If it was to be death so be it. But she would be damned if she would succumb to her disability.

    "Tch, I don't know what game you're playing at, but I don't need any damn sympathy. It would be wise for you to stay as far away from me. You don't want end up as another stain."

  5. Syn didn't reply but for a tiny, wry smirk that turned his dusky lips. If you deserved sympathy, he thought to himself, I would release your chains. Without any further reaction, Syn set down the glass beside her - within reach, had her hands been free - and stepped back, standing in the afternoon sun that slanted into the cell. The light drew a yellow bruise into sharp contrast with his ivory skin, hints of purple visible across his right cheek. It was the only evidence that he had fought his capture.

    It was unfortunate, actually. There was only one bed in the cell, and Syn had neither intentions nor morality to give it up to the stranger. She didn't have claim to it and in any case, Syn believed she wouldn't have taken it even if he had offered. Stilling his body to an almost statue-like state, Syn stayed in the semi-warm light and continued to study the girl. Her aura fluctuated around her body, a lightless glow that only he could see. It was stunted at the edges, falling in on itself at odd times with grey outlines. Occasionally, a spike of grey would pierce the colourful inner part of her aura, dancing around her body with sad delight. But if the alchemists hadn't taken his trenchcoat, he could have warmed her slightly with that. She didn't deserve the bed, but Syn would have given than up to warm her a little once the sun set. It was comfortable in the cell right now, with the negligible amount of sunlight that penetrated it, because the metal retained the heat and it stayed within the walls.

    But once that heat was absorbed by their bodies and the sunlight was no longer forthcoming, the cell became positively icy. Perhaps Syn would give her the other blanket on the bed; it was only right that he do it, after all. What was a blanket between cellmates?

    Syn, still silent, wandered back to the water jug, keeping a keen eye on his subject of observation. Her aura was streaked with cruel hues of blue and purple, and overlaid with bloody oranges, and even bound and weakened, it would not do for him to turn his back on her. She had already threatened him - although by doing so, she had proved she knew nothing about or of him. Sniffing the water briefly as he raised it to his lips, he noted a faint sour odour. They were still trying to drug him. Pretending to take a sip, he headed back to the bed, passing through the sunlight as he did so; as he did, it became apparent that the previously clear water had tendrils of black swirling through it; his shadows, ever faithful even if beyond his command, were cleansing as much of the drug as possible.

    This time, he gave them longer to do so, cradling the glass as he sat down and folded his legs, watching the girl thoughtfully.The drug wouldn't kill him, even were he normal, but he wanted to have as clear a mind as he could.
  6. "Do you think it's wise to have those two together?"

    Sighing, Andrews turned around to face the guard. It was no importance for him to know so he just glanced over his shoulder at him. "That's none of your concern. Has the prisoner took in the drug?" The guard shook his head. Andrews nodded then waved him off. It was unusual for something like this to occur. What was this man and where did he come from? His superiors mentioned that he defied all the laws they have come to known. He wasn't a mere human or maybe he wasn't human at all. He recalled when he first laid eyes on this... creature and something struck him. He couldn't sense any electrical particles around him. Everyone on earth had a current but where was his. It would prove useful to have to two in a cell together. It would prove him with a few more studies to reveal to the Superior.

    Blaire didn't like this guy. At his smirk, her eyes narrowed and she glanced at the glass that he had sat next to her in arms reach.
    Smartass... She thought with a snarl. Sighing, the woman glanced down at her hands and as much willpower she mustered, nothing moved. A tingling sensation traveled up her leg and she grimaced. It was the feeling whenever a limb would go numb and all of a sudden, it would be able to move ever so slightly. She bit her bottom lip as she struggled to move her, bearing through the odd feeling. Her leg twitched ever so slightly and she exhaled slowly. Looking over at the sunlight, it was a nice little reminder of how her life would soon come to end. It wasn't nothing new however. She had been in jams as worst as this and somehow, by God's glory, she gotten out of it. The thought made a small smirk to tug at her lips. Her body should be rejuvenated sometime later on tonight, maybe even after midnight at this point. Raising her head, she focused her attention on the man once more. In the light, her eyes looked him over. A bruise evident on his cheek. So he wasn't a little nursemaid after all. Though, she noticed he wasn't a killer. He didn't seem like the type. She couldn't help but wonder what the hell did he do to end up in the same prison as her. His movements were too precise and fluent and it intrigued her. Once he had sat down, she narrowed her eyes at his constant staring.

    "What the bloody hell are you gawking at? I wouldn't doubt that you end up here for irritating the hell out of some guy..."

  7. For about a minute, Syn thought about her comment. His expression thoughtful, he shook his black-haired head just once. No. No, I don't think that was it. At the thought, a little spark of mirth showed in his eyes, but it was shortlived.

    Her constant comments were interesting. They showed a level of defensiveness, but more than that, they showed she was uncomfortable with being scrutinised. He dropped his gaze from her for just a moment, to see how well the shadows had done, and found that his water was now utterly black; like it was ink and not water that filled the glass. In gratitude, he produced the lowest and quietest sound, just for a second, that rumbled deep in his chest, before lifting the glass and his eyes. His gaze, he returned to the girl; the glass, he put to his lips. Even just by the pale sunlight, the discolouration of his drink was obvious, but Syn took no notice and drank a few mouthfuls gratefully.

    Soon, he knew he should speak to her, perhaps introduce himself. It was the polite thing to do - and perhaps, if he spoke, she would level out a bit. Her aura was crazy, and a series of yellow lines were pulsing outwards from her body. And besides, any information he could gather about her would teach him all the more about how to escape.

    But for now, he just scrutinised.


    "Sir," said a quiet voice; just a murmur behind the Higher's head. "The male is drinking the water we drugged; but I'm not sure that... I mean, it didn't work properly last.... I just.... That's all, sir." It wasn't the guard's place to question orders, no matter how legitimate her concerns might be. She was a guard, a pawn of the Higher Ups and she would do as she was told without fail. Other employees of the Alchemists had been turned into guinea pigs for far less.

    Oh, and she wasn't joking about the guinea pigs. As far as she was aware, her old rotation partner was still one of the Alchemist's kid's pet.