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vile_miasma March 9 2010, 00:05:57 UTC
The prison block was a dismal place, to be sure, and it suited the needs of one. Too dismal, though, perhaps. Even prisoners deserved to see their own punishment. She turned to the poor abandoned light switch on the wall, still covered and dust and forgotten about, and gently flipped it on with the side of her index finger. Dim, pathetic light flickered down the expanse. Some of the fluorescent bulbs overhead stayed on. Some didn't. They were enough, for now.

She gracefully and silently approached the only cell in this lonely place with a prisoner, curling her grip gently around one of the bars. The man inside was the most beautiful ballad she'd ever heard. She cocked her head to the side to get a better look at his face as pity wound its way around hers.

"Oh, my... What has the world done to you?"

The words rolled elegantly off of her tongue, dripping with sorrow. And yet, there was, like with all of her words, a distance to them; a hollowness, as though she were distracted by something else completely.

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tom_hanniger March 9 2010, 20:52:52 UTC
Elegant, perhaps, but the words startled him nearly as much as the lights did.

Living in a year of darkness, literal or not, the buzz of the fluorescent bulbs springing to life were almost foreign. Tom nearly jumped from his half-up position and ran to see, but the pain still running through his limbs was incentive enough not to. Instead, he pulled himself up with a grunt - sitting against the wall to see who it was.

Then the woman appeared, looking at him like you would a dog in a shelter. He shook his head slightly, not recognizing her or the question.

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vile_miasma March 10 2010, 03:38:13 UTC
He was very cute; to follow the analogy, like a scared puppy. She offered him a faint, sad smile, and allowed all of the sympathy she felt to show on her face.

"Do not be afraid," she said softly. "I've come to help."

Somehow that didn't feel like enough. She swung her hips to and fro slightly as she thought, allowing the free-flowing fabric of her dress to sway and gather around her legs. Before she began to speak, she sighed in a way that perfectly captured the disappointment and tire she felt.

"You deserve your own life," she explained, "and are long past due for someone to give you the true opportunity to live it."

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tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 04:02:07 UTC
"I think we're a little past that point," He answered, the first words he had managed since waking up, gruff and met with instant regret from his sore throat.

He didn't like the way she spoke. It was like the words and the face they came from felt two completely different ways. To be fair, though, he was surprised someone was down here to speak to him at all. something in the rack of his head deemed her a messenger, the rest of the town having decided to let him rot...not that they would be out of their right.

"Who are you?"

She was pretty, and his attention wavered between her face and the way she shook her hips, but the question remained valid. The last time he spoke with a strange woman that knew anything about him it ended in a lot of unnecessary pain and a not so fantastic solution.

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vile_miasma March 10 2010, 04:11:19 UTC
It took her a bit to respond, and a sense of vacancy touched at her features as she mulled over his question. It was one that she hadn't heard in a very long time, and so she hadn't had to think about it.

"I'm sure that I," she started, "had a name once... Though it's been so long since any person spoke it aloud that I'm afraid I don't remember."

She eyed him then closely, intimately. There were no secrets here.

"I, too, know the pain of being abandoned by the ones who once loved me," she said sadly. "If it gives you hope, my presence is indicative that nothing and no one is ever too lost or too forgotten."

She reached a hand through the bars then and held it out in a welcoming manner-- palm up, as though expecting him to take it.

"Will you not let me help you?"

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tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 04:36:05 UTC
It was a long pause before he said anything out loud, but it was written all over his face. It hurt. He hurt. But he was dangerous, and backed into a corner, and scared, and half convinced that there wasn't a way to fix it this time. That even if some miracle cure arrived he would still be left with the aftermath. And it was the guilt and utter aloneness and deep-seeded conviction that he didn't deserve anything more that was crushing him.

"Why?"

Eyes darting to her hand momentarily, it reminded him to much of last time. Only it wasn't Alex on the other side of the bars. It wasn't Discordia lingering in front of him with the answer. There was no trust or hope.

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vile_miasma March 10 2010, 04:45:29 UTC
Another smile. This time it was a bit wider, genuine, and held a bit of optimistic hope. She never retracted her hand.

"Because you have much yet to give the world," she said. "There is so much kindness and love you have to give, yet you're too afraid to give it. He continues to block your way and rob you of any hope you may feel. Be free of him."

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tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 05:11:16 UTC
He misunderstands, suddenly thinking this is a much darker meeting.

"Are you an angel?"

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vile_miasma March 10 2010, 05:21:03 UTC
She could have laughed, and she almost did. She'd been called many things over the long expanse of her life, but she was quite certain that this was the first time anyone had used the word "angel."

"No," she answered. "I am human, just like you. I require no deals. I ask nothing from you."

There was a bit of hesitation after that, but then she went on, "Well. I only ask that, once I pluck the taint of him from your soul, you allow me to keep him."

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tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 05:27:01 UTC
And that just seemed to raise more questions. Mostly things he couldn't ask. He was being nosy, looking a gift horse in the mouth. But this was too close to home. Too hard to just go rushing into something. It would have been so easy to just run into someone's arms and hide there, but

too many consequences. Too many unknowns.

He should have stayed dead.

"And do what?" As if she was even serious.

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vile_miasma March 10 2010, 05:36:02 UTC
"Put spiritual shackles on him," she said as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "I can control him. This place has grown into something hostile and dangerous. His physical competency and mental ruthlessness will make for him to be an apt bodyguard."

She finally retracted her hand, though not by much. It rested casually on the bars of his cell, still within reach.

"You will be free to finally live your life," she went on. "And I will be safe to live mine."

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tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 05:50:08 UTC
Oh god, it was so tempting. He shouldn't. It was wrong. He should stay down here and rot...

"What's the catch?"

Without realizing, he had edged himself to the side of his cot, interest betraying instinct.

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vile_miasma March 10 2010, 05:59:38 UTC
A part of her could almost have passed as offended at that, though it recovered quickly. After all, he was scared and confused and had no reason to trust her. Not yet.

"Nothing," she said. "Only that you must promise to truly live. After all, what is the point of living without passion? Without meaning?"

She turned her gaze aside then, feeling somewhat defeated.

"Do understand that you are not required to accept my offer. If you'd like, I will go. Your desire to punish yourself may yet outweigh your love for life."

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tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 06:11:15 UTC
Tom sat in silence, chewing his bottom lip as he gave the woman one final glance over.

You know what. Fuck it. Things couldn't get any worse then they already are.

And if they did? What, he'd die again? Good. Maybe he'd stay dead like he was supposed to.

"Alright." He agreed and stood (not without effort), crossing the short space from his bed to the bars.

One final look over her face, one last chance to back out, and Tom grasped her hand.

Harry was her problem now.

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vile_miasma March 10 2010, 06:21:22 UTC
She smiled at him again and shifted her grip in his hand, moving to hold it like a lover. As close as he was now, she was able to get a better look at his face. He truly was handsome, but there was a perpetual sadness about him, as though the entire world had let him down somehow. And that was exactly what she intended to change.

With her free hand, she reached up and gently laid it on the side of his face-- that perfectly beautiful, perfectly sad face. A part of her almost wished she could take him home with her, as well.

"Are you certain?" she asked, beginning to lightly stroke his cheek with just her thumb.

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tom_hanniger March 10 2010, 06:27:11 UTC
Her touch sent a chill down his spine, but he nodded, resisting the urge to lean into her hand.

It was eerie, as if she really did want to help. As if she really could somehow. This was probably a bad idea. He should learn from his mistakes, but more so he just wanted it to be over. He wanted to be free from the pain. The sadness. It was rare enough to be given a second chance, but this? Someone out there but have a cruel sense of humor when it came to the nine lives idea.

"Yes"

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