[031] Thirty-First Torture [Memory/Accidental Video]
[It’s only unfair that since all these memories are making it to the screens that Starwind would get to experience all the joy of it as well, even if at first it isn’t all that obvious whose this one is.
Everything is dark, at first-solid crushing blackness. After an amount of time that feels eternal but really only lasts a few moments, a small glowing orb of red light flares to life, blindingly bright. It washes over a cloaked figure, face obscured by the hood of the white thing that appears disturbingly drenched in blood in the light. Starwind is cowering in a corner, covered in scratches, cuts, blood, and dirt.
The figure strides over, all casual arrogance, even without showing his face, and drags Starwind from the corner by his tangled and dirty hair-a state he’s never let it get into willingly before-tossing him on the ground on his back. Starwind tries weakly to get away, but the hidden person is faster, dropping a knee onto Starwind’s chest-enough to hold him there, but not to knock the wind out of him.]
Well, hello to you too, songbird. Not a very nice way to greet your new friend, is it? [Evidently, the figure is a man, and he continues after a few moments of silence that Starwind uses to cower and whimper softly.]
I want to talk about the men you deceived, today. [Starwind starts to struggle again and the man slaps him across the face.] Do you really love either of them? You seemed perfectly happy to abandon one for the other. So not only are you a sinner, your filthy “love” is only dependent on who’s around.
[He holds his hand up and it glows with the same red light as the orb that illuminates the rest of the room.]
How long would it take, I wonder, if this one, ah…left, before you would find yet another replacement?
[Starwind, if possible, looks even more fearful and his struggling grows a little more desperate. The man drags his glowing hand down Starwind’s left arm and leaves burns behind wherever his fingers touch. Starwind looks as though he wants to scream, but he doesn’t, tears pouring rather openly down his face.]
I don’t like doing this to you. You know that, don’t you? You know how to stop it. [Starwind shakes his head and starts babbling in his own language-nothing that really makes sense. The man lets it go on for a moment, then leans down and, supposedly, presses his lips against Starwind’s rather forcefully-it’s hard to tell with that hood.
He pulls back only seconds later though, spitting blood. Starwind apparently bit down on the man’s tongue as he tried to force it into his mouth. The man rather calmly removes a small but sharp blade from a sheath hidden by the cloak and, rather calmly, slashes across Starwind’s face.]
Your punishment for misbehaving. I will return shortly.
[The red light extinguishes itself and everything is back to darkness.]
[The scene switches rather abruptly from memory back to the real world. Apparently, what was on the screen has thrown Starwind back into another flashback of his days spent in Tartarus. The ones where his doppelganger had taken his place and he had come back to the edge of the forest, broken. He rather obviously doesn’t notice the tablet recording him as he is too busy being caught by terrible memories. Again, he has backed himself into a corner, sitting in the floor with his knees curled into his chest, only this time he is actually crying-tears shining in the light in his home as they slide unheeded-and probably unnoticed-down his cheeks as he tries and fails rather spectacularly to breathe normally. He is rubbing at the burn scars that decorate his left arm-leftovers from his days down there along with the large x-shaped scar on his back that his clothing mercifully hid most of the time-absently, almost compulsively, as if they still ache.
After only a few seconds of that, though, the feed ends itself.]
Everything is dark, at first-solid crushing blackness. After an amount of time that feels eternal but really only lasts a few moments, a small glowing orb of red light flares to life, blindingly bright. It washes over a cloaked figure, face obscured by the hood of the white thing that appears disturbingly drenched in blood in the light. Starwind is cowering in a corner, covered in scratches, cuts, blood, and dirt.
The figure strides over, all casual arrogance, even without showing his face, and drags Starwind from the corner by his tangled and dirty hair-a state he’s never let it get into willingly before-tossing him on the ground on his back. Starwind tries weakly to get away, but the hidden person is faster, dropping a knee onto Starwind’s chest-enough to hold him there, but not to knock the wind out of him.]
Well, hello to you too, songbird. Not a very nice way to greet your new friend, is it? [Evidently, the figure is a man, and he continues after a few moments of silence that Starwind uses to cower and whimper softly.]
I want to talk about the men you deceived, today. [Starwind starts to struggle again and the man slaps him across the face.] Do you really love either of them? You seemed perfectly happy to abandon one for the other. So not only are you a sinner, your filthy “love” is only dependent on who’s around.
[He holds his hand up and it glows with the same red light as the orb that illuminates the rest of the room.]
How long would it take, I wonder, if this one, ah…left, before you would find yet another replacement?
[Starwind, if possible, looks even more fearful and his struggling grows a little more desperate. The man drags his glowing hand down Starwind’s left arm and leaves burns behind wherever his fingers touch. Starwind looks as though he wants to scream, but he doesn’t, tears pouring rather openly down his face.]
I don’t like doing this to you. You know that, don’t you? You know how to stop it. [Starwind shakes his head and starts babbling in his own language-nothing that really makes sense. The man lets it go on for a moment, then leans down and, supposedly, presses his lips against Starwind’s rather forcefully-it’s hard to tell with that hood.
He pulls back only seconds later though, spitting blood. Starwind apparently bit down on the man’s tongue as he tried to force it into his mouth. The man rather calmly removes a small but sharp blade from a sheath hidden by the cloak and, rather calmly, slashes across Starwind’s face.]
Your punishment for misbehaving. I will return shortly.
[The red light extinguishes itself and everything is back to darkness.]
[The scene switches rather abruptly from memory back to the real world. Apparently, what was on the screen has thrown Starwind back into another flashback of his days spent in Tartarus. The ones where his doppelganger had taken his place and he had come back to the edge of the forest, broken. He rather obviously doesn’t notice the tablet recording him as he is too busy being caught by terrible memories. Again, he has backed himself into a corner, sitting in the floor with his knees curled into his chest, only this time he is actually crying-tears shining in the light in his home as they slide unheeded-and probably unnoticed-down his cheeks as he tries and fails rather spectacularly to breathe normally. He is rubbing at the burn scars that decorate his left arm-leftovers from his days down there along with the large x-shaped scar on his back that his clothing mercifully hid most of the time-absently, almost compulsively, as if they still ache.
After only a few seconds of that, though, the feed ends itself.]