The sleight of my hand is now a quick-pull trigger
Who: Griffin O'Conner and his shadow, a.k.a. The Other
When: Sunday night/Monday morning
Where: A warehouse in the industrial district
Summary: Griffin was looking to find the thing wearing his face and destroy it. He only succeeds in doing one of the two.
Warnings: Torture
“Haven’t seen these in a while, have you?” The Other rattled Griffin’s chains, making the manacles chafe his wrists. Griffin glared at the other with nothing else than pure murderous rage. The Other smiled back in a while that would be sweet on anyone else, but on its visage was only demented. The warehouse was fairly clean for a warehouse’s standards, but a musty smell still clung to the air. It was dark except for a spotlight The Other had found and directed on Griffin. “About a year now,” The Other continued. “I know you’ve missed them.” Griffin struggled against the binds uselessly. “Haven’t had much for ‘em, to be honest,” he countered. “No Paladins, no problems.” The Other held Griffin’s large, jagged knife to the light, trying to catch the light in the silver to make it reflect in its captive’s face. “No point in lying to me, son.”
It wandered its way to Griffin slowly, on the prowl. It speaks knowledgably, “You-well, we’ve-had ourselves a couple nasty little daydreams. Stringing up Roman. That shadow punk from AGI. And let’s not forget Mr. Chippendale, the heart eater. It’s all up here.” The Other tapped its temple with the point of the knife. Griffin hurled himself forward, snarling out, “Bullshit. Those are my thoughts, not yours.” The Other struck like lightning, dragging the blade across Griffin’s chest. He hissed, but wouldn’t show any further sign of pain even as blood ran down his skin and stained his ripped shirt. It tsk’ed its disappointment. “Now,” it reprimanded, “What did Mum teach us about lying?” Griffin tensed, knowing exactly where the conversation was heading. He vowed to himself that he wouldn’t show his anger, but he had already lost that battle. “Yeah, that’s right,” The Other’s voice dropped its playfulness, “We never learned that lesson, did we-“ “Stop saying we, you son of a bitch.”
That time, The Other grabbed Griffin’s left pinky and bent it backwards until it broke. Griffin bit down on his cheek to the point of bleeding so he wouldn’t scream. “Don’t talk about her like that,” The Other warned. It sounded so much like Griffin, defending his mother. He spat some blood at The Other’s feet. “I am going to rip you apart,” he snarled. Even as he was chained to a building and beyond escape, he sounded as though he would be able to anyway. The Other got in Griffin’s face, an unsettling mirror. It replied in a sing-song, “Not if I get there first.” Griffin rammed his head into The Other’s skull.
It stumbled back, gingerly touching where it had been struck. When it recovered, its expression was only wry. “Seriously?” It chastised. “We know better. Headbutts cause just as much damage as they give, if not more. Grade school, man!” “You say we one more time-“ It Jumped across the warehouse, only to come back a moment later to strike Griffin over the head with a steel pipe. Griffin couldn’t hold back his shout, a mixture of pain and surprise. He felt blood pour from his head and down his face and right eye. “Well that’ll be a concussion,” The Other informed him, even as Griffin himself was thinking it. “Guess this means you’ve gotta stay awake.” It stood in front of him, smacking the pipe against its hand and smiled like a predator who found its prey cornered. It smiled in a way that reminded Griffin of a Paladin wearing his face.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Griffin lost track of time. He now knew what The Other didn’t like. Two more of his fingers were broken. This was his punishment for refusing to call it Griffin. The spotlight was turned up to its full potential, beating down on Griffin like a small sun. He said that The Other would lose in a Griffin impersonation contest. Bruises from punches and kicks began to form on his torso and face. He tried to comfort The Other, stating that jealousy for his natural charms was normal. He was covered in knife marks, both slashes and punctures. There wasn’t enough blood spilled to cause concern though, not yet. The Other held all of Griffin’s knowledge about how much is enough and how much is too much. It wanted him awake, there wasn’t a point otherwise. He was dazed but still raring to go. The Other cracked its knuckles. “This isn’t working.” Griffin shook his head. “Nope.” The Other tossed the bloody knife down on the floor. “Honestly?” It confided. “I wasn’t expecting it to. This? This was just fun. A little long overdue fun.”
Griffin scoffed. “You are such a sore loser,” he said. The Other shrugged off its leather jacket. When it threw that aside, the clothing merely disappeared. “We are such fucking idiots,” it said, running out of patience. “You’re an idiot,” he corrected. “Me? I’m… Well, I’m a badass.” Quick as lightning, it elbowed Griffin in the jaw. “I-“ Punch to the sternum. “Am-“ Slam of his head against the wall. “You.” The Other finished with a kick directly between Griffin’s legs. Griffin wanted to double over but couldn’t because of his position. “Stop!” He didn’t sound desperate, but livid. “Why would you even want to be me? What’s so fucking special about me, huh?” The Other grabbed Griffin by the collar and got directly in his face. Their noses were only centimeters apart. “Do you think this is what I want to be? Huh? Y’think I want this?” The Other’s voice shook with anger. The shadow pretext dissipated with each word out of its mouth, sounding more and more like the teleporter it was imitating.
“We are a fucking CANCER. We live for pain, ours and others. We’re not good for anything else! It’s been a year, a whole damn year. There are no Paladins here, we don’t have to hide anymore. But we pull the same shit. It doesn’t matter! We don’t get family, we don’t get friends. Love? It’s a delusion! We’re not good enough for that normal life and we’re never going to be. You think I want to be you? I HATE YOU.”
Griffin squirmed and squirmed, desperate to get away from this but he had nowhere to run. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Griffin was now screaming right back in The Other’s face, his face. “I didn’t ask for this! This isn’t me. The Paladins made me this and you know it!” The Other undid Griffin’s chains. He fell to the floor in a heap. “Oh stop being such a child,” The Other spat out, disgusted by the form at its feet. “We can’t blame everyone else, Griffin. Who led the Paladins to Mum and Dad? We did. Who let all of the others get involved? We did!” Griffin couldn’t rise to his feet. When he tried, one swift kick from The Other kept him down. “Who likes watching the Paladins choke and bleed? Who utterly fucking failed at keeping to himself in the new world? Who had the God damn gall to think he was worthy of friends and a replacement father and a genuine fucking angel on his arm and who keeps letting them get hurt and killed?”
Griffin was shaking and it wasn’t from the injury. He couldn’t even look at The Other. He wanted nothing more in that second than for the Pull to swallow him whole and spit him back out in his miserable home world. The Other crouched down. It stuck its fingers into one of Griffin’s deeper wounds in his arm. He seethed. “Who?” The Other barked out. Griffin looked into the startlingly familiar eyes and finally caved. “We do,” he hissed out. “We do, alright? It’s our fault and we can’t save a thing. Is that what you want?” It stood straight and looked down at Griffin. Its eyes were opened wide in surprise and he could only see himself.
Griffin took the opportunity. He Jumped out of the warehouse and directly into Skye Medical’s emergency room. It didn’t matter that he was running away from a fight. He had already lost.
When: Sunday night/Monday morning
Where: A warehouse in the industrial district
Summary: Griffin was looking to find the thing wearing his face and destroy it. He only succeeds in doing one of the two.
Warnings: Torture
“Haven’t seen these in a while, have you?” The Other rattled Griffin’s chains, making the manacles chafe his wrists. Griffin glared at the other with nothing else than pure murderous rage. The Other smiled back in a while that would be sweet on anyone else, but on its visage was only demented. The warehouse was fairly clean for a warehouse’s standards, but a musty smell still clung to the air. It was dark except for a spotlight The Other had found and directed on Griffin. “About a year now,” The Other continued. “I know you’ve missed them.” Griffin struggled against the binds uselessly. “Haven’t had much for ‘em, to be honest,” he countered. “No Paladins, no problems.” The Other held Griffin’s large, jagged knife to the light, trying to catch the light in the silver to make it reflect in its captive’s face. “No point in lying to me, son.”
It wandered its way to Griffin slowly, on the prowl. It speaks knowledgably, “You-well, we’ve-had ourselves a couple nasty little daydreams. Stringing up Roman. That shadow punk from AGI. And let’s not forget Mr. Chippendale, the heart eater. It’s all up here.” The Other tapped its temple with the point of the knife. Griffin hurled himself forward, snarling out, “Bullshit. Those are my thoughts, not yours.” The Other struck like lightning, dragging the blade across Griffin’s chest. He hissed, but wouldn’t show any further sign of pain even as blood ran down his skin and stained his ripped shirt. It tsk’ed its disappointment. “Now,” it reprimanded, “What did Mum teach us about lying?” Griffin tensed, knowing exactly where the conversation was heading. He vowed to himself that he wouldn’t show his anger, but he had already lost that battle. “Yeah, that’s right,” The Other’s voice dropped its playfulness, “We never learned that lesson, did we-“ “Stop saying we, you son of a bitch.”
That time, The Other grabbed Griffin’s left pinky and bent it backwards until it broke. Griffin bit down on his cheek to the point of bleeding so he wouldn’t scream. “Don’t talk about her like that,” The Other warned. It sounded so much like Griffin, defending his mother. He spat some blood at The Other’s feet. “I am going to rip you apart,” he snarled. Even as he was chained to a building and beyond escape, he sounded as though he would be able to anyway. The Other got in Griffin’s face, an unsettling mirror. It replied in a sing-song, “Not if I get there first.” Griffin rammed his head into The Other’s skull.
It stumbled back, gingerly touching where it had been struck. When it recovered, its expression was only wry. “Seriously?” It chastised. “We know better. Headbutts cause just as much damage as they give, if not more. Grade school, man!” “You say we one more time-“ It Jumped across the warehouse, only to come back a moment later to strike Griffin over the head with a steel pipe. Griffin couldn’t hold back his shout, a mixture of pain and surprise. He felt blood pour from his head and down his face and right eye. “Well that’ll be a concussion,” The Other informed him, even as Griffin himself was thinking it. “Guess this means you’ve gotta stay awake.” It stood in front of him, smacking the pipe against its hand and smiled like a predator who found its prey cornered. It smiled in a way that reminded Griffin of a Paladin wearing his face.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Griffin lost track of time. He now knew what The Other didn’t like. Two more of his fingers were broken. This was his punishment for refusing to call it Griffin. The spotlight was turned up to its full potential, beating down on Griffin like a small sun. He said that The Other would lose in a Griffin impersonation contest. Bruises from punches and kicks began to form on his torso and face. He tried to comfort The Other, stating that jealousy for his natural charms was normal. He was covered in knife marks, both slashes and punctures. There wasn’t enough blood spilled to cause concern though, not yet. The Other held all of Griffin’s knowledge about how much is enough and how much is too much. It wanted him awake, there wasn’t a point otherwise. He was dazed but still raring to go. The Other cracked its knuckles. “This isn’t working.” Griffin shook his head. “Nope.” The Other tossed the bloody knife down on the floor. “Honestly?” It confided. “I wasn’t expecting it to. This? This was just fun. A little long overdue fun.”
Griffin scoffed. “You are such a sore loser,” he said. The Other shrugged off its leather jacket. When it threw that aside, the clothing merely disappeared. “We are such fucking idiots,” it said, running out of patience. “You’re an idiot,” he corrected. “Me? I’m… Well, I’m a badass.” Quick as lightning, it elbowed Griffin in the jaw. “I-“ Punch to the sternum. “Am-“ Slam of his head against the wall. “You.” The Other finished with a kick directly between Griffin’s legs. Griffin wanted to double over but couldn’t because of his position. “Stop!” He didn’t sound desperate, but livid. “Why would you even want to be me? What’s so fucking special about me, huh?” The Other grabbed Griffin by the collar and got directly in his face. Their noses were only centimeters apart. “Do you think this is what I want to be? Huh? Y’think I want this?” The Other’s voice shook with anger. The shadow pretext dissipated with each word out of its mouth, sounding more and more like the teleporter it was imitating.
“We are a fucking CANCER. We live for pain, ours and others. We’re not good for anything else! It’s been a year, a whole damn year. There are no Paladins here, we don’t have to hide anymore. But we pull the same shit. It doesn’t matter! We don’t get family, we don’t get friends. Love? It’s a delusion! We’re not good enough for that normal life and we’re never going to be. You think I want to be you? I HATE YOU.”
Griffin squirmed and squirmed, desperate to get away from this but he had nowhere to run. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Griffin was now screaming right back in The Other’s face, his face. “I didn’t ask for this! This isn’t me. The Paladins made me this and you know it!” The Other undid Griffin’s chains. He fell to the floor in a heap. “Oh stop being such a child,” The Other spat out, disgusted by the form at its feet. “We can’t blame everyone else, Griffin. Who led the Paladins to Mum and Dad? We did. Who let all of the others get involved? We did!” Griffin couldn’t rise to his feet. When he tried, one swift kick from The Other kept him down. “Who likes watching the Paladins choke and bleed? Who utterly fucking failed at keeping to himself in the new world? Who had the God damn gall to think he was worthy of friends and a replacement father and a genuine fucking angel on his arm and who keeps letting them get hurt and killed?”
Griffin was shaking and it wasn’t from the injury. He couldn’t even look at The Other. He wanted nothing more in that second than for the Pull to swallow him whole and spit him back out in his miserable home world. The Other crouched down. It stuck its fingers into one of Griffin’s deeper wounds in his arm. He seethed. “Who?” The Other barked out. Griffin looked into the startlingly familiar eyes and finally caved. “We do,” he hissed out. “We do, alright? It’s our fault and we can’t save a thing. Is that what you want?” It stood straight and looked down at Griffin. Its eyes were opened wide in surprise and he could only see himself.
Griffin took the opportunity. He Jumped out of the warehouse and directly into Skye Medical’s emergency room. It didn’t matter that he was running away from a fight. He had already lost.