Prompt Post - Part Six [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]
THIS PART IS NOW CLOSED. YOU CAN CONTINUE POSTING FILLS, BUT PLEASE PROMPT ALL NEW THINGS HERE.
I am so sorry for the delay, guys. Life has been hectic lately (exams, haha) and I lost track.
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
Part five here!
Feel free to reprompt posts from parts one, two, three or four in part five once. If ( Read more... )
The long and slender fingers - like spiderlegs, ready to crawl over him and devour him and - Robin tries to breathe, tries to stay calm and focused; remember what Batman told him, remember what he taught him, remember who he is but it hurts so much and Robin can't remember the mantra he was supposed to repeat. He can't remember how he was supposed to go into the trance, away from the pain and sheltered in a blanket of comfortable nothingness because the man is pulling his finger - his broken finger which hurts so much it's as if it is trying to burn itself off and separate from the rest of his body. Robin can't blame it as when the next finger breaks he wants to do the same.
Craa-ack.
He lets out a gasp but bites back the scream and the sweat is pooling all over his forehead; his mask feels sticky and heavy yet safe at the same time and brief panic washes over Robin as he realizes the man could pull it off at any given second.
''Such marvelous gloves, my boy'' the man tsk-tsks and hums and murmurs to himself as he admires the craftsmanship of every little piece of Robin's costume. From the buckles and the seams to the fabric and the abnormally smooth kevlar and his belt - his utility belt, where is the belt? Never leave home without it, first thing Batman taught him - where is his belt he wants his damn belt. He could pick out a birdarang or a smoke bomb and escape or even if he could access the lock pick in his glove he --
the glove slids off and it jars the injured fingers.
This time Robin can't contain his scream and as it slips out the man grins and grunts like a kid having cake. A horrible, repulsive, disgusting little kid that no mother could ever truly love.
The other glove comes off, and soon follows his boots and Robin waits in tense anticipation for the mask to come off as well, his entire body taut and his muscles feel like tearing - he prepares to thrash and bite and lunge as much as the restraints will allow, no, more than that, whatever it takes to protect the idenity he --
''Don't look like that'' the man puts his face in his level and bores his eyes, his tiny, beady little yellow eyes, into Robin's and he smiles; the bastard smiles. ''I won't take a peak, I swear.'' and mockingly he raises a hand to his heart and says ''Scout's honour''
And all Robin wants to do is scream because it makes him think of Clark and where is Clark, where is Bruce Wally Roy where is everyone he -- Robin collects himself and tries to remember everything that Batman taught him. Robin is capable of taking care of himself, because Batman taught him to be ready he will be ready and he can get through this. Robin knows he can get through this if he just pulls himself together and --
Craa-crAck.
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Thanks for the lovely words! More is a-coming.
brb typing like a mad person
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I'm not overwhelmed anymore. I'm just plain whelmed.
I was going to review all of it at once, but then I figured, a) you deserve better, b) my reviews are too long, hence c) it wouldn't fit. And that would be embarrassing. Thus! I shall break it down into parts!
Ah, the writing style again. It's less rambling this time around, but Robin is still coherent at this point. You have the character of the 'ornithologist' down to pat. The most skilled torturers elevate their job to an art form. What they do may be terrible, yet eventually you find yourself reluctantly admiring the finesse with which they carry out such macabre acts. They cause physical pain, then soothe it over with kind words and friendly smiles. They're disgusting creatures who mock their victims with sweet smiles and soft words. It makes the victims feel humiliated and insulted and angry, and that helps the process.
...Damn. Got sucked into profiling again. I do that a lot - comes from an unhealthy interest in and knowledge of the human psyche. Sorry. Back to point. Which is that you've incorporated all of the above, minus the boring lecture. It's not often that I come across a torturer in a fiction who is so close to the ideal torturer. When I prompted this story, I hadn't expected something this good. Clearly, I need to raise my expectations. They're kinda getting barreled over right now.
I won't lie, my shoulders slumped when I saw the first "Crack." I'd asked for creativity, and breaking fingers is such a cliched torture form. Then the creep pulled off Robin's gloves, and I swear I stopped breathing. Too much singular pain turns a person numb after a while, but when broken bones are jarred like that... I can't believe I doubted you, especially since we haven't even really started anything yet.
I'd like to say the best thing about Part [2] was Robin's frantic attempts to remember his training, or his fear and disbelief of what's about to happen (because while Two-Face and the Joker have had their share of 'fun' with him already, he's never been tortured before), or the end where he's in so much pain that he just wants ClarkBruceWallyRoy someone to come for him. And that last paragraph did almost made it to the 'best'. But what I ended up liking most was when he was trying not to remember his parents, and he thinks of their blood on the floor where he used to play with Zitka.
The big picture is amazingmarvelousamasterpiece, it is, but in my opinion, it's the details that make a story. And the tiniest detail like that in a character's thought makes a situation feel real. Dick used to play with a little kitten/puppy/monkey on that floor; he used to have fun and laugh on the same hard floor that killed his parents. He must have - it was his home. It's a thought that makes you pause.
"Craa-crAck."
I never thought a single capitalized 'A' could have this much influence on the feel of an entire chapter. There could have been no better way to end this part.
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