[mad muses] july 2.1.3 - unknown quote
NOTE: Ziyah is zee_ali and is used with some permission and great love. Carbone is mindisthemagic and all mine. Takes place tonight just after this.
Escape is based on this.
Follow your heart, but be quiet for a while first. Ask questions, then feel the answer. Learn to trust your heart.
==========
He didn’t expect the next breath to come, but it did…and with it, the sun came out.
Shaking his head, he sucked down a ragged gulp of air and tried to get his vision to clear as his hand went to his chest, where the picks still hung. Like the cuffs, they burned his skin when he touched them. His nose stung with the noxious scent of fear, sweat, and now burned flesh. There was no great power source or triumphant surge of energy to save him. It was just him, Fear, Despair, and a pair of handcuffs.
His strength was still fading, the Darkness sapping him dry like a leech glutting itself on blood.
The only change was the fact that he wasn’t alone.
He wasn’t connected to the power, but he was something there, warm water trickling into an ice block. For a moment it was too hot, painful as the blackness knotted around his chest and throat, but he could feel it turning ice to slush, bringing life back into his dying body. Stretching one shackled hand, he tried to grip the railing but his fingers wouldn’t obey the command.
Grab it…GRAB IT!!!
A spasm forced his hand shut around the cool steel. With the little strength he had, Tommy hauled himself painfully to his feet while he willed his vision to clear. Slowly, the light faded and darkness returned…but it was twilight where full dark had obscured his vision. Somewhere in the distance, voices were urging him on, but he was deaf under the weight of the dark energy crushing him to death.
Looking down at the wreaths of silver fire around his wrists, the snake at his neck that was the only key, he blinked and realized he could see them both. The pick and what it was for, the keyhole in each flaming ring. And his wrist…both were already raw and seeping, but the cut he’d made lay open and waiting, his own blood showing how long he had as it rose and fell above the lips of the wound with every beat of his heart.
He could see it, the cuffs and picks. He could see the line of wet crimson waiting to flow and kill him, black in the harsh light. It wasn’t too dark to see…
It wasn’t much, but it was something. Reaching for his picks and ignoring the smell of burning flesh as he touched them, the voice of Doubt in his head, Tommy slid them into the keyhole and got to work.
* * * * * * * * * *
She was only dimly aware that the wound wasn’t healing. Too much else was going on to notice anything but Tommy six stories above her, struggling not with his cuffs, but just to keep himself vertical.
“…inside the building, he will have to get through the balcony door, then three others within the hotel.” A voice announced over the loudspeakers as a big screen came alive with a multi-angle security camera feed. “At no time will he be out of sight of our cameras. Everything will be visible on this screen.”
Including his death…that’s what they weren’t saying. Irrationally, Ziyah wanted to smack someone, but she didn’t have the strength or the focus. The blood, hot on her arm before, was now cold against the open edges of her wound…well, cool. A thin, hazy film covered her vision and if she really concentrated, she could almost feel the crowd’s urgency bubbling in her like champagne. Tiny threads connected her to everyone and everything, and if she looked at Tommy hard she could swear she saw something around him…inside him, glowing with a purity that made her heart ache…
This is what he sees. This is what the world, what people are like to him.
She imagined she could feel the crowd’s energy, but Ziyah definitely felt something when the masses started screaming. Eyes riveted to Tommy, she watched him just barely jerk the cuffs free before dropping them and staggering to the balcony door. For a moment, he stared at the lock with picks in hand, but finally backed up and faced the window going into the room.
She blanched as he suddenly struck out with one leg and kicked the glass in, leg aiming high to clear out the frame with two or three well placed blows.
“It appears he’s having problems, folks…some issue with the locks…”
The voice was grave, taut with concern, but she could have sworn she detected malicious delight in its undertones. Making a mental note to kick the guilty party’s ass if she was able, she watched Tommy stumble into the building and out of sight.
She didn’t trust the monitors to show her where he was at. Instead she laid her hand over her nearly bleeding wrist and shut her eyes, trying to feel him. The connection they shared, the new bond they had just formed…
…the world was so dark, but less so when she was with him. Together they ran through the corridors, barely able to keep their feet. With him, her own body experienced the unique torture of an avatar being drained of power: lungs crushed beneath an invisible weight, muscles being pulled taut to the point of tearing. His head was pounding and his heart was racing, all while his body and soul lacked the conviction to draw even one more breath…
With a start, the bond was broken and she was in her own skin again, blanching at the timer on the big screen showing a minute left. She had the sensation of moving forward, ever forward, but she didn’t know how far…
…the top corner of the screen showed Tommy at the roof hatch, struggling with the lock. It wasn’t coming off. Even when she shut her eyes and tried to slip back in with him, she could tell it wasn’t coming off. Shut out, blocked out of his private hell, she felt dread creeping in to turn her blood to ice.
This isn’t it…this isn’t it. No. NO.
It was the first time all over again, only Ben wasn’t there to hold her back as the clock ticked down…as the chopper flew off the top of the building and the explosives began to go off. Snow filled the screen and something in her was ready to give, to lose, to grieve and die with the man she’d just pledged her life to.
She watched the building fall and fought the urge to scream.
Her ears rang despite the earplugs, her vision clouded and her lungs filled with dust though she wore safety goggles and a mask like everyone else. Every muscle locked into place as she felt her wrist begin to bleed again, warm and liquid as it coursed down her arm...what did it mean? She didn’t know what it meant...
Ten thousand people behind her were deadly silent as people ran towards the building. Horror and shock hung in the air, making her vaguely sick. Underneath it, though, there was something else, something stronger...
Ziyah held her breath and waited for it. Waited, because she could do nothing else...
“YEAH!!!!!!!!”
Her gaze found him before the sound touched her ears, a dust-covered figure at the base of the building with his arms spread. He was glowing, shining with a light only she could see as he staggered forward, half-dead on his feet.
Leaping over the barricades, she was running and bleeding, seeing his own wrist doing the same just before their eyes locked and the world disappeared. She could see only his gaze, warm brown and endlessly deep, could only feel the heat of all that blood flooding them both, pouring over every inch of skin and sinew as the power drew them together and sealed them body to body. Ravenous, she drank him down as their mouths met, did not cry out as his hands brutalized her body, clutching and claiming before their fingers twined together.
Blood mingled, and she felt a strange snapping sensation that left her skin humming. She could see again, suddenly, and felt strangely alone save for Tommy’s arms around her. They were laying in the grass...she didn’t know when they had fallen together.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Is it over, Tommy? Is it really over?”
Instead of answering, Tommy just smiled as a voice filled both their minds, clear and powerful and gloriously alive.
//Over and done, Zee.// Carbone sent to them telepathically. //I’m back.//
Her heart soared as Tommy’s eyes opened to meet hers joyfully just a moment before they rolled up into his head as he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 1,471
Escape is based on this.
Follow your heart, but be quiet for a while first. Ask questions, then feel the answer. Learn to trust your heart.
==========
He didn’t expect the next breath to come, but it did…and with it, the sun came out.
Shaking his head, he sucked down a ragged gulp of air and tried to get his vision to clear as his hand went to his chest, where the picks still hung. Like the cuffs, they burned his skin when he touched them. His nose stung with the noxious scent of fear, sweat, and now burned flesh. There was no great power source or triumphant surge of energy to save him. It was just him, Fear, Despair, and a pair of handcuffs.
His strength was still fading, the Darkness sapping him dry like a leech glutting itself on blood.
The only change was the fact that he wasn’t alone.
He wasn’t connected to the power, but he was something there, warm water trickling into an ice block. For a moment it was too hot, painful as the blackness knotted around his chest and throat, but he could feel it turning ice to slush, bringing life back into his dying body. Stretching one shackled hand, he tried to grip the railing but his fingers wouldn’t obey the command.
Grab it…GRAB IT!!!
A spasm forced his hand shut around the cool steel. With the little strength he had, Tommy hauled himself painfully to his feet while he willed his vision to clear. Slowly, the light faded and darkness returned…but it was twilight where full dark had obscured his vision. Somewhere in the distance, voices were urging him on, but he was deaf under the weight of the dark energy crushing him to death.
Looking down at the wreaths of silver fire around his wrists, the snake at his neck that was the only key, he blinked and realized he could see them both. The pick and what it was for, the keyhole in each flaming ring. And his wrist…both were already raw and seeping, but the cut he’d made lay open and waiting, his own blood showing how long he had as it rose and fell above the lips of the wound with every beat of his heart.
He could see it, the cuffs and picks. He could see the line of wet crimson waiting to flow and kill him, black in the harsh light. It wasn’t too dark to see…
It wasn’t much, but it was something. Reaching for his picks and ignoring the smell of burning flesh as he touched them, the voice of Doubt in his head, Tommy slid them into the keyhole and got to work.
* * * * * * * * * *
She was only dimly aware that the wound wasn’t healing. Too much else was going on to notice anything but Tommy six stories above her, struggling not with his cuffs, but just to keep himself vertical.
“…inside the building, he will have to get through the balcony door, then three others within the hotel.” A voice announced over the loudspeakers as a big screen came alive with a multi-angle security camera feed. “At no time will he be out of sight of our cameras. Everything will be visible on this screen.”
Including his death…that’s what they weren’t saying. Irrationally, Ziyah wanted to smack someone, but she didn’t have the strength or the focus. The blood, hot on her arm before, was now cold against the open edges of her wound…well, cool. A thin, hazy film covered her vision and if she really concentrated, she could almost feel the crowd’s urgency bubbling in her like champagne. Tiny threads connected her to everyone and everything, and if she looked at Tommy hard she could swear she saw something around him…inside him, glowing with a purity that made her heart ache…
This is what he sees. This is what the world, what people are like to him.
She imagined she could feel the crowd’s energy, but Ziyah definitely felt something when the masses started screaming. Eyes riveted to Tommy, she watched him just barely jerk the cuffs free before dropping them and staggering to the balcony door. For a moment, he stared at the lock with picks in hand, but finally backed up and faced the window going into the room.
She blanched as he suddenly struck out with one leg and kicked the glass in, leg aiming high to clear out the frame with two or three well placed blows.
“It appears he’s having problems, folks…some issue with the locks…”
The voice was grave, taut with concern, but she could have sworn she detected malicious delight in its undertones. Making a mental note to kick the guilty party’s ass if she was able, she watched Tommy stumble into the building and out of sight.
She didn’t trust the monitors to show her where he was at. Instead she laid her hand over her nearly bleeding wrist and shut her eyes, trying to feel him. The connection they shared, the new bond they had just formed…
…the world was so dark, but less so when she was with him. Together they ran through the corridors, barely able to keep their feet. With him, her own body experienced the unique torture of an avatar being drained of power: lungs crushed beneath an invisible weight, muscles being pulled taut to the point of tearing. His head was pounding and his heart was racing, all while his body and soul lacked the conviction to draw even one more breath…
With a start, the bond was broken and she was in her own skin again, blanching at the timer on the big screen showing a minute left. She had the sensation of moving forward, ever forward, but she didn’t know how far…
…the top corner of the screen showed Tommy at the roof hatch, struggling with the lock. It wasn’t coming off. Even when she shut her eyes and tried to slip back in with him, she could tell it wasn’t coming off. Shut out, blocked out of his private hell, she felt dread creeping in to turn her blood to ice.
This isn’t it…this isn’t it. No. NO.
It was the first time all over again, only Ben wasn’t there to hold her back as the clock ticked down…as the chopper flew off the top of the building and the explosives began to go off. Snow filled the screen and something in her was ready to give, to lose, to grieve and die with the man she’d just pledged her life to.
She watched the building fall and fought the urge to scream.
Her ears rang despite the earplugs, her vision clouded and her lungs filled with dust though she wore safety goggles and a mask like everyone else. Every muscle locked into place as she felt her wrist begin to bleed again, warm and liquid as it coursed down her arm...what did it mean? She didn’t know what it meant...
Ten thousand people behind her were deadly silent as people ran towards the building. Horror and shock hung in the air, making her vaguely sick. Underneath it, though, there was something else, something stronger...
Ziyah held her breath and waited for it. Waited, because she could do nothing else...
“YEAH!!!!!!!!”
Her gaze found him before the sound touched her ears, a dust-covered figure at the base of the building with his arms spread. He was glowing, shining with a light only she could see as he staggered forward, half-dead on his feet.
Leaping over the barricades, she was running and bleeding, seeing his own wrist doing the same just before their eyes locked and the world disappeared. She could see only his gaze, warm brown and endlessly deep, could only feel the heat of all that blood flooding them both, pouring over every inch of skin and sinew as the power drew them together and sealed them body to body. Ravenous, she drank him down as their mouths met, did not cry out as his hands brutalized her body, clutching and claiming before their fingers twined together.
Blood mingled, and she felt a strange snapping sensation that left her skin humming. She could see again, suddenly, and felt strangely alone save for Tommy’s arms around her. They were laying in the grass...she didn’t know when they had fallen together.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Is it over, Tommy? Is it really over?”
Instead of answering, Tommy just smiled as a voice filled both their minds, clear and powerful and gloriously alive.
//Over and done, Zee.// Carbone sent to them telepathically. //I’m back.//
Her heart soared as Tommy’s eyes opened to meet hers joyfully just a moment before they rolled up into his head as he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 1,471