Vignette: Clean Up
Scene: Right after Aivey sticks Luren (thereby setting into effect the Jensen/Ashwin Jailbreak), she returns home to take care of yet more business.
The sounds of shuffling, dragging and stumbling footsteps echoes down the normally quiet corridor. Aivey drags herself achingly slow along the length of it, manages to shoulder the door leading into her rats nest hidey-hole open and promptly collapses against it once inside. She pulls her hand away from her side, momentarily mesmerized by the glint of blood against her fingertips. It's almost golden.
Then the pain hits her in new, fresh waves. She clenches her teeth and, just so she has some new pain to focus on, hits the back of her head against the door. It doesn't help.
She gets her breath and pushes forward, sliding across the ground on her knees and one hand. The basket holding all her supplies is tipped forward and onto the ground. Packets of goodies fall out, goodies of her trade and the occasional healing venture. One is grabbed and stuffed in her mouth as she reaches for a basket beneath a warped table.
Aivey pulls out the tiny sewing tin and, with a hand that barely stops shaking long enough to accomplish the task, unshutters the glow basket enough to see by. Grunting with effort, she arranges herself on the crate and settles her tools in her lap. The process of lifting her shirt off is slow, made difficult by the knife wound slashing her ribs to hell that becomes apparent, and the second on the upper half of her arm. It's hard to tell which looks angrier, relatively easy to say which is more recent.
Aivey closes her eyes for a moment, trying to still the erratic beating of her heart and the pain that threatens to send her toppling into unconsciousness. Vintro fills her mind with his voice, calm and steady. Because of him, she knows what to do and once she steels herself to the task, Aivey begins the grueling process.
She passes out, not once but three times total before it's done. Like the arm wound, she's not sure it'll heal properly but it'll hold. Now, she hurts so much she doesn't dare move, doesn't dare burst the stitches. She has to, if only to save the light from her glowbasket. Very carefully she slides the shutter down and closes her eyes as darkness settles over her tiny home.
Falling asleep is harder, always gets harder after everything she does because she's sure someone will catch her; that they'll knock her door down and drag her away. To help her sleep, she tallies the list mentally, like counting sheep. All the people she's tormented, hurt, tried to kill and killed since coming to the 'Reaches.
Vintro would be proud, Winet too. She thinks of them instead of what will happen if she's ever caught. Eventually she falls asleep, but every time she hears a noise she starts awake, holding her breath and staring into the darkness. A blade is always gripped tightly in her hand, waiting to add another tally to the list she repeats in her mind before drifting back to sleep.
The sounds of shuffling, dragging and stumbling footsteps echoes down the normally quiet corridor. Aivey drags herself achingly slow along the length of it, manages to shoulder the door leading into her rats nest hidey-hole open and promptly collapses against it once inside. She pulls her hand away from her side, momentarily mesmerized by the glint of blood against her fingertips. It's almost golden.
Then the pain hits her in new, fresh waves. She clenches her teeth and, just so she has some new pain to focus on, hits the back of her head against the door. It doesn't help.
She gets her breath and pushes forward, sliding across the ground on her knees and one hand. The basket holding all her supplies is tipped forward and onto the ground. Packets of goodies fall out, goodies of her trade and the occasional healing venture. One is grabbed and stuffed in her mouth as she reaches for a basket beneath a warped table.
Aivey pulls out the tiny sewing tin and, with a hand that barely stops shaking long enough to accomplish the task, unshutters the glow basket enough to see by. Grunting with effort, she arranges herself on the crate and settles her tools in her lap. The process of lifting her shirt off is slow, made difficult by the knife wound slashing her ribs to hell that becomes apparent, and the second on the upper half of her arm. It's hard to tell which looks angrier, relatively easy to say which is more recent.
Aivey closes her eyes for a moment, trying to still the erratic beating of her heart and the pain that threatens to send her toppling into unconsciousness. Vintro fills her mind with his voice, calm and steady. Because of him, she knows what to do and once she steels herself to the task, Aivey begins the grueling process.
She passes out, not once but three times total before it's done. Like the arm wound, she's not sure it'll heal properly but it'll hold. Now, she hurts so much she doesn't dare move, doesn't dare burst the stitches. She has to, if only to save the light from her glowbasket. Very carefully she slides the shutter down and closes her eyes as darkness settles over her tiny home.
Falling asleep is harder, always gets harder after everything she does because she's sure someone will catch her; that they'll knock her door down and drag her away. To help her sleep, she tallies the list mentally, like counting sheep. All the people she's tormented, hurt, tried to kill and killed since coming to the 'Reaches.
Vintro would be proud, Winet too. She thinks of them instead of what will happen if she's ever caught. Eventually she falls asleep, but every time she hears a noise she starts awake, holding her breath and staring into the darkness. A blade is always gripped tightly in her hand, waiting to add another tally to the list she repeats in her mind before drifting back to sleep.