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Post by MP on Sept 25, 2018 10:22:14 GMT -6
“I think I understand you.”
Whether the same could be said of Sarkany was another matter. His words were distorted in places, fuzzed as if through interference.
“If the compulsion is inborn, it may be too deep-rooted. But if you like, we can work on that. See if something can be done.”
Another crackle of static.
“Later.”
The figure turned faceless features toward her, faint impressions of apology, embarrassment, strain drifting around it.
“For now, I think it’s time to go. The place I - ” An incomprehensible blurr of sound. “- if you can point me the right direction. Wouldn’t want to leave two doors.”
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 26, 2018 6:19:14 GMT -6
Viktoria nodded, turning and waving a hand in the direction she thought he needed to go. "Da. Zis vay." The initial storm, with its floor of glass atop a roiling, burning mass. That was where she, while separated, had first felt his presence. It seemed as likely a place as any that the door he had initially entered through would be.
Getting there was a far quicker and easier experience than Sarkany's solo trip through her mindscape had been; she no longer needed to divert and hide him through memories while locked in a small segment of her own head, after all. When the pair reached that swirling carpet of red and black, Viktoria glanced sideways at her companion. She was concerned for his physical and mental wellbeing, how much recovery he might need once he got out of here, but knew the only way to help was to let him leave as quick as he was able. "I vill be, ah, glad to see you. In perrson." Then she drew to a stop, catching sight of a shimmering patch ahead, disjointed and clearly not part of the environment - despite how stormy and haphazard the mindscape was in the first place. "I prromise, no punch zis time."
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Post by MP on Sept 26, 2018 11:35:50 GMT -6
The figure stepped forward, a haze against the storm, and stood staring out over the plain. Its stance implied listening, concentration. Viktoria had changed something - made something - he could feel it waiting for him. Sarkany took another few steps. Stopped again as if in thought. He picked a direction and started walking. There was a gentle thump as he walked into the glass.
The seraph stood there, staring at the ground. The air colored slowly, hints of emotion drifting in the haze: embarrassment, reluctance, shame. He looked to Viktoria, his voice almost apologetic.
“I can’t find the door.”
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Post by tsukikoko on Sept 26, 2018 11:51:31 GMT -6
It wasn't a second after his shamed explanation that the inconsistent form of Sarkany would find a hand on his back. Or at least the approximation of where it should be. For Viktoria had started moving towards him the moment he had gone in the wrong direction, not quite reaching him in time before his collision with the glass. There was no irritation of judgement, just a warm, steady guidance as she turned him to the left.
"Iz ok." A few moments of guided steps, before the scarred feline spoke again. "I vill see you. And I.. am sorry, forrr bite and bullet." With that, she gave him a little pat, a push in the right direction. A single step would put him through the doorway.
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Post by MP on Sept 28, 2018 12:55:49 GMT -6
The room faded in, as naturally as rousing from a daydream. The air had the same familiar scents. Lived-in. Clean. The eyes adjusted to the lamp light as though the storm had never existed - which was mostly true. It was all as Viktoria had left it. Quiet. Nearly serene.
The first sound to break the silence was a sigh - deep and wholesome, like a person tasting fresh air for the first time. Off to the feline’s side, a figure stirred and sat forward in its chair.
Sarkany was as ruffled as a bird after a windstorm, his clothing battered, his hair a touseled mess. His right arm was bloodied, held close to his side at an awkward angle, and a faint bruising had begun to manifest on his throat. Still, the seraph’s eyes were clear and alert. He watched the feline with bright attention, gauging her expression, poised to spring into motion if necessary. He tipped his head as their eyes met, a silent question.
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 1, 2018 4:29:09 GMT -6
As Sarkany turned his gaze to the second, larger figure, a pair of bright green eyes gazed back at him. Pupils steady and round, body relaxed, expression neutral, Viktoria made no move towards or away from him. Instead, her gaze tracked steadily across and down his body, taking in the lingering injuries with a steadfast stoicism. Only she regarded his face once again did the mask break; visible in the lowering of her ears and the juxtaposed, relieved anguish tainting an emerald gaze.
"Hallo... Sarrkany."
She stood then. The scarred feline crossed over to Sarkany in a stride, only to hesitate with one hand slightly raised when she reached him, as though afraid she could not, or did not deserve, to touch him. Another moment's hesitation, before she finally, very gently, laid a hand on his shoulder. A brief thing, barely even the span of a heartbeat. Then a step back, to give him space, just... just in case. "Zank you. I, ah-" At that point, an ear twitched, listening to some unseen sound or another. Her chin lifted, looking at the ceiling, then moving around to survey the room as her head turned. She remembered where she was and a trace of confusion flickered across her features as she looked back at Sarkany. "You arrre herrre... how?"
This was Malthiel's abode. Or at least, a basement room in one of them, how had the seraph known where to find her and after what she had done to him, to others, why had he bothered? It wasn't even just that he had found her, he had nearly died in an attempt to rescue her! "Vhy did you, ah, forrr me, come herrre?" Speaking of rescuing her, what even had that experience been? It was inside her own head, she was almost certain of that. Like a simulation, only, without a computer and instead using her actual memories, rather than those created in a code program. She had so many questions, so much regret, relief, worry for Sarkany's condition, anger at her captors; all this and more, and she didn't know what to do with it all. Eventually, she shook her head, held up both hands and exhaled slowly, "You arrre hurrt. Should be getting you, ah... trrreatment."
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Post by MP on Oct 1, 2018 11:58:56 GMT -6
Sarkany neither flinched nor pulled away from the touch. He returned the green stare quietly, letting Viktoria order her thoughts. It was a confusing ordeal, he knew from experience - no less so after everything her would-be keepers had put her through. He waved off her fussing unconcernedly.
“Your Officer Dog has healing ready. We’ll go to him in a moment - don’t worry.”
There was nothing in either his voice or demeanor to suggest a request. But it was there, clear for anyone who truly knew him or understood the ways of beasts: I need a minute. He was guarded with the officer. More so with their host. Sarkany was vulnerable, and in his vulnerability, he could not go out to these people, even if it meant relief from his injuries. When he felt he could gain his feet, stand taller, preen himself into presentable shape, then he would approach them. Not a moment sooner.
“He’s the one who got us here, you know,” he continued conversationally. “The pup saw you taken and came to me. I approached your officer. He approached your host and negotiated this little session. So here we are.”
The seraph leaned back in his chair, straightening his clothes and smoothing his hair with the dead hand as best he could. He looked tired and pale and, despite it all, rather pleased with himself. It was a better outcome than he’d dared to hope for. And skies, it was good to see the real Viktoria.
“Ears up, Hkoma,” he said, glancing up at her. “Whatever damages there are, we’ll handle them, hmm? I know the pack will be glad to have you home again.”
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 3, 2018 5:07:38 GMT -6
Viktoria's ears did indeed spring up, pointing forwards as her eyes widened in a rarely seen look of surprise. "Cassius?" She looked around, towards the nearest door, staring at it for a few moments. But she had recognised Sarkany's desire to remain hidden a while longer, recognised it in herself the refusal to show weakness, especially in front of strangers or those that could not yet be trusted.
So, for his sake, the scarred feline was content to wait and talk as long as he needed. It was so good to see Sarkany again and not feel any desire to capture or injure him, but his final statement had one of her ears pin back for a second. "I ah... do not know if-" If she could leave. If Malthiel would let her. Though, now she paused on it, her thoughts on that slim man had shifted in tone. The forced warmth was now just a slight glow; the desire to be obedient instead a politeness to at least listen to what he had to say. If anything she was almost... neutral. Almost. Well, closer to it, at least.
She had never encountered that before, not with someone so like a Martian. It was... liberating and she could only attribute it to whatever had happened inside her head. In which case, she didn't know how she would ever be able to thank Sarkany for aiding her in such an incredible capacity. But the fact of the matter still remained, that once, if, Malthiel gave her an order to stay, she still might not be able to tell him no. Might not be able to brush past and leave anyway, "If I am, ah, herrre told to stay. Not surrre I vill leave, even if am vanting to. Malthiel vas, ah... not hyappy, zhat I am taken." A slow blink, the slight set of her jaw. "Vill trrry howeverrr." She wanted to go back. Wanted to spend time in the bunker amongst people she had come to care for, even if things weren't as relaxed as they had been before her kidnapping - which she would understand completely.
For now, the feline decided to sate a bit of her curiosity. "Sarrrkany. Must be asking. Vhat, ah, vhat vas..." She pointed at the seraph, at herself, tapped the side of her head and then gestured around herself with one hand, unsure how to describe the whole experience. "Zhat?" She finished after a long pause, unable to find the words so just hoping he knew what she meant.
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Post by MP on Oct 3, 2018 10:01:28 GMT -6
Sarkany smiled at her concerns, a reaction that might have passed for understanding or commiseration but for the slight edge to it - a hint of fang in the expression, a mirthlessness, like a dog baring its teeth. So, a thorned cage for a gilded one, was it? Wasn’t that just a neat solution.
“We’ll handle it,” he said again. The dog, he thought, might have more pull in that regard.
Now slightly better groomed, Sarkany pushed to his feet. His lungs no longer burned, and he thought the arm could be braced with minimal distress. The pallor or blood couldn’t be helped, but he looked as well as could be hoped for. The seraph smoothed the last wrinkles from his clothing, not looking at the feline.
“My partner,” he answered her after a moment, “was a Dreamer - a creature made of thought. To beings like this, the mind is its own world, as real and shapeable as anything in the waking one.”
The jacket, blood and shredded sleeve aside, was flawless. He looked up at Viktoria, his face unreadable.
“I borrowed her skills to step into your mind. Not a mind link. You never left this room, and I existed only in your head. In that state, I could shape the things you showed me - perceptions, influences. You could call it a guided daydream.”
Sarkany shrugged, one-shouldered. For the first time back in the waking world, there was genuine emotion in his eyes. A hint of shame.
“I wouldnt have done it if there had been another option. We were at a loss, you understand. It was an intrusion.”
The apology was implicit in the words. Sarkany offered a small, tired smile along with it.
“Rest assured, I won’t do it again unless it’s needed. And never without your permission.” A glint of humor in his eyes. “The buildings, the pig, that odd dark - was it water? It’s a bit beyond me anyway.”
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 5, 2018 9:48:32 GMT -6
Viktoria's shoulder lifted in a small return shrug at Sarkany's obvious apology, a hint of reassurance in her features (as much as she could make it). "Iz ok. Prrreferr you in my hyead to... ah, vhat I hyad become." She wasn't entirely sure she understood quite what her friend meant by her mind being another physical reality and how he could borrow the powers of his... Dreamer partner, would need to mull it over later to fully cement the idea in her own head. Still, it explained why he was now injured, carrying the same wounds as those she remembered from their recent experience.
A chill raced down her spine.
She had been so close to killing him. He would have died. For real.
But she hadn't. She hadn't and that was what mattered. Right? Dwelling on it after the fact would help no-one, change nothing; yet still the guilt clawed at her back of her skull, reiterated what she was capable of, even to those she cared about.
A gentle sigh. The scarred feline shifted her attention elsewhere, focusing instead on the seraph's last few words. She blinked, realised exactly what it was he had said, then chuckled with a quirked eyebrow ridge. "Odd darrrk vaterr? You arrre meaning space?" Of course, in this time space travel was nowhere near as common as the world she came from, Sarkany had likely never been out into that infinite darkness. "Iz ah, you arrre knowing, da? Space? Iz ah.. night sky, starrs, vhat iz.. uh, outside planet. Vhat planet iz sitting in. No grrravity. No airrr."
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Post by MP on Oct 5, 2018 10:50:11 GMT -6
“Space, yes.”
Sarkany nodded politely, though the explanation was useless to him. Of course it was a space - everything was. The question was, where was it to have developed such unnatural rules? He supposed Viktoria might lack the vocabulary to narrow it down in English. Or maybe it required more background theory and time than he presently had. He shook his head after a moment, letting it go.
“Well, you’ll have to tell me more about the space later.” He nodded at the door. “I expect you’re anxious to see them - be out of this room.”
The seraph tapped a five note rhythm out on his leg with the back of his hand, demonstrating.
“Means I haven’t fried your brain,” he explained with a wry smile. “Or been coerced. They’ve been instructed to unlock it when they hear it.”
He could’ve given the tap code himself, or simply commanded the door for them. But Sarkany only stood back, allowing Viktoria to lead the way. After all her time under the thorns, he thought she’d appreciate the chance to leave under her own power.
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Post by tsukikoko on Oct 11, 2018 21:28:21 GMT -6
"Nyet, iz not-" Viktoria began, intending to explain to Sarkany that she hadn't meant a space as in a room or a random open area, but Space as in what lay outside the planet and what held the known Universe. But it soon became apparent that would be a conversation for another time, one the scarred feline was near flabbergasted to realise would be far more involved than she ever expected because apparently her friend had no idea what Space actually was. Because Sarkany was currently tapping out a rhythm and explaining that the door would be opened once those outside heard it.
The humanoid looked at the door, patiently waited for the span of a few seconds. Then, when it was clear from the lack of sound that her companion hadn't made a move towards said door, she turned her attention back to him. The seraph was still stood there, waiting instead, for her it seemed.
Letting her make the choice to leave.
A warmth swelled in Viktoria's chest, soft and indistinct but undeniably there. She felt the sudden urge to hug him. But instead, with a look that conveyed her gratitude through her eyes far better than any words would have done, the humanoid stepped over to the door. A scarred arm raised. The five note tap rhythm sounded out a second later in a sharp, rapping sound from the feline's knuckles.
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Post by jarahamee on Oct 12, 2018 1:44:27 GMT -6
The knock seemed to echo forever. Then a very brief silence before they heard heavy footsteps and movement.
The sound of locks being unbolted methodically. More than one, and heavy ones at that. Likely to attempt containment of a very determined Viktoria. Last of all, a soft brushing sound over the wood, before the door opened. A heave and suddenly brighter, yellow-tinged light spilled into the room as the heavy, reinforced doors swung outward. Two figures outside greeted the two within.
The well-muscled form of Cassius held both sides expectantly, his expression guarded and hyperalert. The grotesque grimace of his expression looked even more gruesome than usual. He was dressed formally, but Sarkany had come to expect business-casual from him. His scarred and mangled fingers gripped the doors in a way that would have made them easy to close at the slightest hint of danger. He looked even more vigilant at the stark scent of blood, his soldier’s instincts kicking in, identifying the wounds on Sarkany. There had been no sounds of violence, but what could he have expected with Viktoria?
Then Cassius internalized the scene before him. He saw their expressions. Pushed away the vicious lash of instinct. It had to have succeeded. He allowed the flutter of hope to leave his chest. Her expression was soft. She was leading. Sarkany stood by her side. Not too far back, supportive. There was a bond between them strong enough that he could feel it. They had bridged a great gap. All of this was visible to him in a moment's glance.
He breathed a sigh of relief he did not know he had been holding.
"...Viktoria."
He said with a gentleness than surprised even himself, and the tension left his features. It was freeing somehow. Sarkany had done a great good, and now they had her back. The emptiness that was the lack of her personhood had been filled again. He never thought it was possible. Cassius wondered if he felt like tears, and realized it was not possible, but if it had been, he would have wept with relief.
Instead, he smiled; even a soft smile seemed harsh on his face. Everything seemed to slow. At the back of his mind, he knew that Sarkany would need attention. He brought potions for just that purpose.. And he had to thank the man for what he had done to undo what they had thought was impossible. In fact, he owed him a great deal, for many things. But the thought simply blossomed in the background of his mind as Viktoria dominated the forefront.
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Post by Marshmallow on Oct 14, 2018 20:09:44 GMT -6
The silence that ruled the cellar floor was oppressive. The weight of the wait bore down on those who had to be left behind while Sarkany did.. whatever it was he meant to do. Malthiel had been dubious at first, wary of deceptions. Viktoria had been snatched away one too many times, had been through too much already, that he had been reluctant to leave her fate in the hands of a man he barely knew. But what choices did he have left? He could keep Viktoria contained, out of Their hands and out of danger, but his own attempts to reach her through the conditioning had failed. It would be a cruelty to keep her boxed in forever, and the list of viable alternatives was woefully short. In any other hands, she would simply be terminated, he was certain.
This was a last resort, and his desire to have his lost one returned was stronger than his mistrust of the lean stranger. The dog soldier seemed trusting of the man, at least. He and the agent had already come to mutual understanding, they both wished for Viktoria to be returned to herself, and so Malthiel had opened the safehouse doors to them.
For the duration, Malthiel remained just outside those sealed doors with Cassius. He tried to keep himself busy with paperwork, but the reality was that he was too distracted to get anything done. The uncertainty and stress, the silence itself, kept him from focusing on trivial things. The future of one of his people hinged on Sarkany's success. He was unable to even lend aid, and having the situation so far outside his control left an anxious tension in his chest.
Finally, a knock broke the silence.
Paperwork was discarded in a pile as Malthiel rose from his seat. Cassius was first to the doors, of course, already working the many locks. Something inside him snarled at that, but he stifled the feeling, kept it out of his expression. The soldier had already proven himself earnest, so Malthiel held himself a step behind and allowed Cassius his moment.
The doors opened, and for a moment the four simply stood in silence. Fatigue, worry, hope - Malthiel couldn't keep the mixed emotions from his face as he searched first Sarkany's, then Viktoria's for answers. He took in the body language, Viktoria's position ahead of the other, the calm in her expression, and finally let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Relief melted the tension that had hung so heavily since he had first recovered her from the old factory. She seemed warmer, more real. The machine was gone. She was free of the organization's influence at last, she was herself.
"It's good to have you back," he said, the relief and even joy in his voice clear. He stepped back from the door, clearing the way for them to exit the room. "You had us worried there for a while, you know. But I'm glad to see you're you again."
To Sarkany, a tone that had once been clipped and cold was now softer at its edges, accepting if not fully trusting. "The agent's brought his potions, though you are welcome to what supplies I have should they prove inefficient. I.. owe you more than that for what you've done, but it is all I can offer now. Rest as you need, my doors are open to you."
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Post by MP on Oct 16, 2018 13:21:38 GMT -6
Sarkany inclined his head in silent thanks, acknowledging the words. Whatever his private reservations about their host, his thoughts on Malthiel’s methods, or his awareness of the extradimensional sting about him, the seraph was all smiling politeness under the man’s roof. They were here by his tolerance. And for the present at least, their goals were all aligned.
Still, he did not accept the offer immediately. Nor did he request the potion. Sarkany only stepped to one side, fading into the background as the officer moved toward Viktoria. He understood the importance of a reunion - better than most he did - and he would not have interrupted theirs for all the discomfort in the world. This was what they needed.
So the seraph waited, contentedly discreet, paying no particular attention to their talk. The only sign that he heard them was the hint of a smile playing about his eyes. It was better than any potion.
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