(Untitled)

Mar 28, 2004 20:12

As the hours passed, Java began to lose her sense of time. Minutes dragged by in the darkness, hours, days, years, and it was all the same to her; it seemed a lifetime and yet only moments since her visitor had left her, and Java's mind was beginning to betray her. As much as she had disliked dealing with her guest, it had at least served to ( Read more... )

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_java_ March 30 2004, 15:29:09 UTC
The bracelets had been especially designed to bring even the most aggressive of prisoners into line; they were meant to quell the normal human by level four or five, the fiery by six, and the exceptionally strong-willed or physically robust by seven. Jay had passed out at level eight; most found the beauty of submission far earlier. In case of a particularly dangerous situation, however, the bracelets had been designed to reach level ten, although this level had only ever been used in extreme situations. For Java, who was already on edge as a result of the stimulants, the pain of the first jolt was absolutely unimaginable; it felt as if her entire body was being electrocuted, as if every nerve was exploding, and she threw her head back, spine arched and eyes slammed shut. She thrashed like an animal in her bindings, refusing to scream, biting through the inside of her lower lip as her hands writhed behind her, struggling to cling to her sense of self, to keep her focus through the pain. She was stronger than this; she wouldn't scream she wouldn't scream she wouldn't scream she wouldn't--

And then it was, suddenly, over. She collapsed forward, suspended by the ropes around her, shaking and trying to catch her breath as her head hung forward. There was a long pause, and then the sound of chewing, and Java raised her chin slowly, shakily, her eyes glittering hatefully as she watched him eat. The plum hit the ground, and then he struck her again, on the other side of her face, and Java was pleased to discover that, after the bracelet, another blow didn't seem so bad; it was at least a physical, honest kind of pain, and the taste of blood in her mouth was almost refreshing. It was real, and it was proof that she was alive, and a reminder that he had yet to get what he wanted from her.

Line spoke again, wiping the blood from her lips across her cheek, and Java barely heard him; her every thought was of her hatred for him, hatred for her inability to do anything to help herself at the moment, and delicious thoughts of the pain Line would be subjected to the moment she'd convinced him to let her go. As Java's mind raced, lost in hate, the bracelet was suddenly back on full power, and she was straining against the ropes, writhing and whimpering despite herself, her wrists pulling frantically apart and tearing the wounds from her earlier struggles farther open. The power lessened slightly, then shot back to full, fluctuating unpredictably and never dipping below unbearable. Java wanted to be in control, he was just a Virt, she shouldn't show weakness, and yet the pain was more than a human could bear. She couldn't pass out, couldn't die, couldn't escape; there was nothing but pain and hate and the blood moving in her veins and the electricity making every nerve scream and a bright light in her eyes that was really in her mind, and Java couldn't stand it. Her body jolted erratically as it twisted against the chair, and then there was no more lip to bite through, and she couldn't stop herself; she was screaming in a voice that was far from human, not even recognizing the sounds as her own as they escaped her lungs, lost in the kind of pain that the body was never meant to bear.

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_into_the_fray_ March 30 2004, 15:30:49 UTC
Line counted slowly to three before letting up on the dial, savoring her anguished screams as they reverberated off the walls of the small room, noting her body's violent reaction to his treatments. He had done this before, and he knew exactly how much a body could take. The orders he had been given, clearly stated he wasn't to kill her, and wasn't to maim her. It was slightly frustrating, being restricted as he was, but it also increased the challenge, and would make his victory over her all the more satisfying. As he spoke to Java, his voice was neutral, if not holding a slight note of disappointment.

"That didn't take long at all. It seems that you have an easier shell to break than I previously thought." Setting the control panel down next to the stool, Line adjusted his glasses once more, rising to his feet and looking down at her with a look of strange, biting honesty. "Hardly even worth my time." Grabbing her roughly by her hair, Line pulled Java's head back sharply, still gazing down into her face. "I've been told that you were at one time queen of the Techno army. It really is a shame people have no standards these days." He released his grip on her hair in one smooth, forceful motion, letting her head fall quickly downward as he retrieved the control panel and repositioned himself on the stool. "Are you still feeling talkative, or have you gotten that all out of your system now?"

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_java_ March 30 2004, 15:32:45 UTC
He had pushed her to the brink of what a human, -any- human, could possibly endure, and had then pushed her further, and now Line had the gall to accuse Java of being an easy kill for having merely screamed? Though her body still twitched with the aftershocks of his ministrations, Java's eyes held nothing but hatred as they bored into her captor; she hated him for what he'd done to her, for what he'd said to her, and she hated herself for having given him what he wanted, but she had no fear whatsoever for him now, on any level. He could do no worse than he'd already done, now; there was nothing left to fear.

Java licked her lips, the tip of her tongue smeared with her blood, and gave him a furious smile while her fingers twitched slightly behind her back. She couldn't find the the breath to speak, but she had to respond to him; she had to show him that she was far from broken. "I'm just disappointed," Java finally managed to choke out, her voice a low, raw hiss that quivered with her anger. Another dart of her tongue, another shaky breath, and Java drew herself painfully back to her full height, her strong posture and livid eyes daring him to insult her again. "I thought," she hissed, as she forced her fingers to hold still, "that you'd know better than to push a girl so far so fast." Java wanted to lunge at him, to tell him that she'd see him killed for this, but she thought she was beginning to understand how Line thought, and her body would not have responded even had she wanted it to. Line had the bracelet and a few vials of chemicals, but she was the Queen of the Technos, and he was still just a Virt; as long as her mind was strong, there were ways to retaliate in spite of the pain. "It isn't," and the smile broadened, "gentlemanly."

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_into_the_fray_ March 30 2004, 15:34:36 UTC
With a barely audible sigh, Line stood up once more after listening to Java's choked out words, peering down at her without any sign of outward emotion. "Your answer is a 'no' then." He said nothing for a moment, looking her over from head to toe like she was a specimen on a lab table, paying close attention to odd, minor details. The condition of the left side of her neck, the timing between the tremors in her foot. His eyes squinted questioningly, his mind sorting through and analyzing each observation, before he walked around behind her and taking in the condition of her wrists. They wouldn't scar, of that much he was certain, but he also didn't want to run the risk of any rats in the building being drawn to the scent of blood.

Without another word, Line walked back to the cart and retrieved a medium sized black bag from the bottom shelf, along with the entire tray of food on the top shelf. His eyes focused on no particular point directly in front of him, Line made his way back over to his charge, placing both items on the opposite side of the stool. "As I have explained Java," he began, using her name for the first time in conversation. "I have gone out of my way to be accommodating, and I find it rude that you suggest otherwise. I am a man of immense patience," his words heavily weighted, "but if there is one thing i do not abide," his hands moving to open the bag, "it's rudeness." Line removed a small dark container labeled M3 from the bag before sliding on a pair of disposable surgeon's gloves. Moving around to the back of her, he examined her wrists once more, his breath falling on her cuts as he shifted his head to take in the different angles. The sound of the container lid unscrewing and being carefully laid aside was the only noise in the room, save for the occasional buzz of the yellow light bulb overhead. "This is a special mixture of my own creation. I perfected it years ago, and it's one of my favorite substances." Taking a liberal amount of the slimy cream, Line covered all the affected areas of her wrists with a painstaking thoroughness. "It's a mild coagulant, and will prevent you from doing any further damage to yourself. For the duration of its application, the salve will harden the skin against any friction damage and is also a powerful rodent repellant. I'm afraid however, that I never took the time to eliminate its side effects." Line recapped the container slowly, before going back over to his bag and removing his gloves. Reaching into one of the side pockets, he removed a white sanitation sheet and wiped the jar to remove any remnants of the substance. "The tingling feeling you're experiencing right now is the first phase. Following this, you should experience an overall numbness of the area finally followed by an intense itching sensation that will reach its peak before leveling off. You needn't worry however, it will be no more discomforting than a bad case of poison oak on, let's say, your eyelids."

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_into_the_fray_ March 30 2004, 15:35:17 UTC
Reaching again into the dark bag, Line produced a jar labeled RR7 and sat it down in front of him, once again pulling on a pair of disposable tan gloves. Using the same methodical movements he'd used on her sleeve, Line rolled up each pant leg, mentally counting each roll, and making sure each pant leg had an even number. Opening the jar, he began to speak again, his attention centered on her legs now exposed from just above the ankle to just below the knee. Checking once more to make sure her legs were securely bound, he dipped his hand in the jar, removing a small amount of a light clear liquid. "If you think I've gone too fast with you," he began as he covered her left leg in the substance, "then allow me to be a gentleman and remedy the situation." Repeating his actions, he covered her other leg in turn, before recapping the jar, disposing of his gloves, and cleaning up any residue with a sanitation wipe. Zipping up the bag, he removed a ripe peach from the rapidly diminishing tray of food and sat back down on the stool, one arm coming across him to prop up the other as he took a large juicy bite, making sure to finish chewing before he began to speak. "That specific substance is one of my more recent inventions. It attacks the nerve endings of the epidermis before making its way down to the dermis itself without causing any significant damage to the nerves themselves. To put it simply, it's roughly the equivalent of a light pinch that grows into thousands of wasp stings, the nerve endings themselves unable to deaden as the reactive agent revitalizes them again and again and again." Taking another bite out of the peach he again looked mildly thoughtful as if considering whether or not to share something with her. Looking down at her legs, it was impossible to visually tell the stage of progression, but he knew it would take at least until he had finished the peach before it became unbearable. "I was however, able to formulate an antidote for this particular compound. I might be willing to share it with you, but you'd have to ask politely. After all, manners are what keep us civilized are they not?" His posture never changing, Line continued to eat the piece of fruit bite by bite, his gaze locked onto the woman in front of him, never once faltering.

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