There is a time when things cease to be too much, and become normal. You become acclimated, you become jaded, you become an empty shell of what you once were – desensitized and empty, exhausted and unable to muster the will to care anymore. Through the weeks, Adara has watched Izzy reach that state, to the point where she can’t even think of fighting it anymore. All she can do is endure each moment, each echo’d conversation lapping over and over the others, layers upon layers of centuries of conversations that surround her.
All she can do is hear the confessions over and over and over again. There is one – no, there is far more than one, there are always more, and the drawback of being so damn good at her job is that she’s caught more than her fair share – and they all delight in telling her, screaming at her, describing in disturbing detail what they’ve done, who they’ve done it too…
Especially the one of her own capture, her own torture, what he’d done to the others and would have done to her – DID do to her…
She cannot even muster the will to wince anymore, or the ability to do anything but stare. She moves little, Adara has to force her to eat, to shower, to do anything other than smoke, drink, and puke up the contents of her stomach on a far to regular basis. It’s tearing up her throat, and she has vomited with such force she has vomited up blood after one particularly harrowing night…
For others, they get a break… for her, there’s far too many triggers, to much psychic backlash and emotional disturbances that she cannot sleep, she cannot rest. When the voices stop, the nightmares come… she is entrenched in it, and with every day the possibility becomes more real that she will not survive..
She’s losing her fucking mind – and she may never fully recover.
Tonight though, there is a dream instead of a nightmare, a dream that beats back the voices for a few precious moments, and gives her a vision of peace that she might be able to acquire – if only she does this one thing, this simple task.
Even now, even as exhausted and drained as she is, she makes note of the route traveled, landmarks and signs that will tell her where they are going. When there is nothing left – training kicks in, and the analytical part of her mind wakes to store the information.
The ghosts whisper hateful things, but she has heard nothing but more of the same for weeks on end now, and she merely watches them, eyes dark – and far worse, empty and dead – as she listens and watches. A task is given, a promise to restore her mind…
She wakes with a start, sitting up straight, and reaching for the notepad she keeps near her bed, the pen taped to the side, her body moving automatically. With shaking fingers she writes down everything she remembers, and then reaches again and grabs her phone.
Two phone calls – One to Carter, one to Adara – both saying the same thing.
“Who the fuck is this goddamn princess? Tell me everyfuckingthing so I fuckin’ find her to give her the fuck BACK and end this bullshit before I put a fuckin bullet in my brain.”
Finally. A direction. Something she can DO.
| Scourge (10:37:35 PM): | Adara will answer her phone, sounding a little groggy. It was early in the morning “Hmmm Izzy? Slow down a little. What do you know of the Princess?” |
| diTerces (10:38:39 PM): | She’s aggitated. She’s pissed off. She’s… more animated than adara’s heard her in weeks now. “Ain’t the fuckin’ question – what do YOU know of her, and wtf haven’t you given her back yet? They said they’d make it fuckin STOP if ya did… “ |
| Scourge (10:41:18 PM): | She frows, rubbing hte sleep out of her eyes “Hmmm who said that? And I don’t know a lot about her, if it’s the same person we’re talking about. I know her name, a few other things and that she’s on our side.”She pass a hand in her hair, turning slowly, trying ot wake up properly |
| diTerces (10:42:33 PM): | “If she’s on our fuckin side why is she letting them fuckin do this to me?! I can’t live like this, Adara! Not anymore!” There’s an edge of hysteria in her voice – she has a direction and she wants to GO and FIX IT and MAKE IT STOP. “They want their fuckin princess back… so give. her. back!” |
| Scourge (10:45:51 PM): | She moves to sit on the bed “Izzy, I know almost better than anyone how fucked up things are for you right now. We’re working on it. The king is not our ally, giving her back probably won’t make this stops. He’s lying.And he hold the place where our old gathering place in this city was. We’re trying to owrk things out ot take him odwn, retake that place and free you from all this. But the man has an army, so we need to play smart”
She says softly, feeling sorry for Izzy. Things were jsut crazy and asking her ot wait was unfair, but what else could they do |
| diTerces (10:51:08 PM): | She echoes the sentiment… all but throwing the phone across the room – hanging on to it, to her sanity, by a thread… “Your trying. trying.” there’s an edge there, that hysteria mingled with exhaustion and flat out dispair.. “You all try to dictate every moment of my fuckin life – from who i know and fuck and love, to what grows or not in my fuckin uterus, to what I have t fuckin do for you on a daily basis, rarely – if ever – giving two shits how much hell ya make my life.. day in an da out i do my moterhfuckin duty for you all….and you are trying” Her laughter lacks any amusement. It’s harsh, bitter, and worse… defeated. |
| diTerces (10:51:36 PM): | “…how do ya know she ain’t fuckin lyin… she’s skipping out on her motherfuckin DUTY… an i’m pukin up fuckin blood for you…” |
| Scourge (10:57:08 PM): | She shakes her head slowly “I do care. And I’ve never tried to dictate your life. You do what you want. Once this is over, I’ll still be your guardian if you want and unless you cause trouble, I won’t care what you do or whoyou fuck, that’s your own life. I’m not Fenrir, I care about the woman and nto jsut aboutyour uterus.That said, I know she’s good, I’ve been in her presence, I spoke ot her. She helped us. I had to decipher hundred years old glyph in a grotto at the obttom of a slippery 40 ft tall falls, I have to face were sharks and probably came face toface with a manisfestation of Gaia itself and she changed me, made me…more wolf than woman. I”m not saying I”m havign a harder time than you, that’d be a lie, but I’m not sitting idly on my ass either
And I know the king is nto trustworthy for the stories have spoken of a mad king trying to steal kin form us. Now..who do you think it might be and what do you think will happen if you bring the Princess to him. It sucks Izzy, but at this moment, the seemingly easy way out, is the wrong way..and a false one” |
| diTerces (10:59:56 PM): | Her voice is barely audible, though the defeat and dispair is all but a physical feeling wound within them…, then. “the easy way out would be a fuckin bullet.”and then? nothing but dead air. |
| Scourge (11:01:37 PM): | She let out a sigh “Hang in there Izzy. We’ll bring this to an end soon. Don’t let despair win and make you do things you’d regret. I’ll come by later ok?” |
| diTerces (11:02:40 PM): | Theres no reply. No indication if it was even heard. The line is dead.The only question is… is Izzy…. |
| Scourge (11:05:30 PM): | She gets up smoothly, stretches and go to the bathroom to spalsh water into her face. She then finds some clothes and gets dressed. It was time to visit the detective and make sure she goes through another day living.It owuldn’t do to let her die on her watch after all |
| diTerces (11:10:32 PM): | Izzy sets the phone down, and picks up her gun, her constant comanion these days, and curls up in the corner of her bed, holding the pistol against her belly.And there she stays. She doesn’t answer the door, and when Adara enters – as she knows she will – she is all but completely unresponsive… but even in this – with jaw clenched and cheeks wet with dispairs tears, her eyes unseeing anything out that window – even in this, she does her duty.
for all the good it will do her. |
| Scourge (11:15:06 PM): | The Fury is used to the lack of response when she knocks so she steps in, smelling the room, lsitening, watching, then moving closer ot the kin. “Hello Izzy” She tells her and sit on the edge on the bed, watching herShe leans forward, smelling the woman, deciding she can go another day without a shower. She wasn’t going to force her in the bathroom unnecessarily. She watches her from ther bed a moment then move to cook something to eat, something light, mostly toasts.
She comes back, makes sure Izzy takes a few bites then move to sit on the floor, a silent vigil as most of the time |