Frozen When Your Heart's Not Open
Characters: Flonne, Vexen
Content: Lab B for Flonne. It...gets interesting.
Setting: Still upholding the illusion of secrecy...in vain
Time Is trying the same thing the setting is (but takes place during this thread)
Warnings? Um, Vexen's a creeper. |D
A Note: I'm NPCing Vexen, so this will probably just be in two big posts.
There was nothing she could do. Flonne didn't know how long she'd been shivering in her cell, trying and failing to keep Larxene's words from running through her head. The more she tried not to think about it, the more she thought about it, and every time the words ran through her head, they sent a fresh wave of despair over her.
Laharl would die. Laharl would die to save her. She loved him, and it would kill him.
She couldn't handle it.
She was a wreck, barely protesting as the Dusks came into her cell to drag her to another room. They strapped her to a table, and by the time they had gone someone else had appeared. He was silent when she cried and when she begged him to be let go - she had to leave. She couldn't put Laharl in danger...
And then he injected the darkness - that terrible choking darkness she'd felt in and driven out of Laharl not long ago - into her arm, and he was silent when she screamed.
It hurt. It hurt. The darkness seared through her body with a chill so intense it burned. Every bit of hopelessness and despair Larxene had created reared up, amplified by the darkness, and crashed over her, again and again until her throat was raw from screaming and she thought she would break.
And then, just as the chill became bearable, she felt the pinprick in her arm and the entire process began again.
After the third time, she'd begun to go numb - the cold had become too much for her. The fourth washed that oppressive cold over her once more, and she lost a bit more of herself. After the fifth time, she lost count - she simply felt herself go numb, gradually, by painful degrees, until she was silent.
She lay there, strapped to the table, completely unresponsive. The cold had numbed her mind and faded her body, leaving a mind not functioning and blank grey eyes staring off into nothingness.
She breathed. She was still living.
At this moment, however, she was by no means alive.
Content: Lab B for Flonne. It...gets interesting.
Setting: Still upholding the illusion of secrecy...in vain
Time Is trying the same thing the setting is (but takes place during this thread)
Warnings? Um, Vexen's a creeper. |D
A Note: I'm NPCing Vexen, so this will probably just be in two big posts.
There was nothing she could do. Flonne didn't know how long she'd been shivering in her cell, trying and failing to keep Larxene's words from running through her head. The more she tried not to think about it, the more she thought about it, and every time the words ran through her head, they sent a fresh wave of despair over her.
Laharl would die. Laharl would die to save her. She loved him, and it would kill him.
She couldn't handle it.
She was a wreck, barely protesting as the Dusks came into her cell to drag her to another room. They strapped her to a table, and by the time they had gone someone else had appeared. He was silent when she cried and when she begged him to be let go - she had to leave. She couldn't put Laharl in danger...
And then he injected the darkness - that terrible choking darkness she'd felt in and driven out of Laharl not long ago - into her arm, and he was silent when she screamed.
It hurt. It hurt. The darkness seared through her body with a chill so intense it burned. Every bit of hopelessness and despair Larxene had created reared up, amplified by the darkness, and crashed over her, again and again until her throat was raw from screaming and she thought she would break.
And then, just as the chill became bearable, she felt the pinprick in her arm and the entire process began again.
After the third time, she'd begun to go numb - the cold had become too much for her. The fourth washed that oppressive cold over her once more, and she lost a bit more of herself. After the fifth time, she lost count - she simply felt herself go numb, gradually, by painful degrees, until she was silent.
She lay there, strapped to the table, completely unresponsive. The cold had numbed her mind and faded her body, leaving a mind not functioning and blank grey eyes staring off into nothingness.
She breathed. She was still living.
At this moment, however, she was by no means alive.