Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Moderator: S.T.A.R.S.

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-09-04 22:14

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Ryan watched the puddle of blood on the carpet grow. The scarlet essence of life trickled down his arm to the floor below, each drop adding anew to its expanding boundaries. Ryan felt the open wound on his arm and the incision in his side that leaked the dark red, but at the same time the pain seemed to be something absent. As if he was standing outside of his own body studying wounds that were not his own.

Crimson stains marred the floor. Ryan's first thought was neither to clean the stains, nor to stop the bleeding. Both were necessary. Rather, he wondered what Mydynte's exact reactions to the stains would be. Would she be angry over them? Yes, of course she would... But if he had judged how her emotional state worked correctly it would be a set of reactions.

A muffled sound came from an indistinct object on a chair. Korr lashed out with a contemptibly lazy kick. The object made a grunt as the kick connected and fell silent.

"Quiet," Ryan rasped. "You interrupt my thoughts."

Drip. Drip. Drip.

His eyes returned to the scarlet pool. No, Mydynyte's first reaction on seeing him would be confusion, then shock, after which she'd become angry over the bloodstains, but it wouldn't be real anger. The real anger would be that someone had hurt him and then that anger would mingle with worry. She'd probably attempt to patch his wounds, while asking questions about "who is that?" and "what have you done?" and "why'd you have to get yourself hurt?"

Ryan knew by now that she genuinely cared about him. Maybe that effected him, maybe it didn't. Did it really matter? He didn't know. Who else had actually cared about him before?... he couldn't remember. Anybody who had was dead by now, or had betrayed him. People could say they cared about you and mean, then drive a dagger into your heart. He'd learned not to trust, but now he was learning so much more.

In the past, he'd felt that people understood him much too well. He was predictable and when you're predictable you're easy to manipulate. He had been manipulated, twisted backwards by those who knew his inner workings. Now he understood. He needed to become the manipulator. To be the catalyst for change... to be change. Some people thought he was insane... Ryan studied the crimson pool as if for answers.

"My 'insanity' is perfect sanity... its those who don't wish to be more that are insane," he muttered.

The fingers of his unstained hand played idly with a cred coin. Ordinary in every physical appearance, but given in such an unordinary manner. Presented by the Emperor himself. Ryan felt sure it was a puzzle, he just hadn't had time to drag out the answer held within. Too busy with - he glanced over at the gagged and bound person sitting in a chair, a bag over the head - other things...

The door opened and Ryan slipped the coin swiftly into his pocket. In the darkness it was hard to make out anything, but he knew Syn was there. Suddenly the light flickered on. Syn saw him and shrieked. Staggering forward unsteadily, Ryan raised his hand, blood still dripping from it.

"Syn," he rasped, looking on the verge of collapsing as he used the wall for support. "Syn."
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-09-05 04:48

Mydnyte sat on the public tram and stared out the grimy window without truly seeing anything. Everything went by as a blur, but that wasn't the result of a fast moving vehicle. It came as a result of staring off at a distance as she allowed her brain to shut down and her body to function on autopilot. It was a really rough day - and night - at work. At both of her jobs. Her full time occupation as an event planner was super stressful today. Syn had to deal with not just a bridezilla, but also bridezilla's mother. Mydnyte hadn't yet figured out which of the two was the worst. They gave her a piercing migraine.

But it was the added stress of her second, part-time job that pushed Mydnyte over the edge tonight. Needing to earn a few more extra credits, Syn had taken a part-time bar tending position at The Blue Wave. This particular bar catered more to the male populace by featuring exotic dancers. The manager tried his damnedest to get Syn to be one of the girls putting on a show, but the blue-eyed lass cast such a stone-cold look on the man, that he immediately gave her the open bar-tending position instead.

But tonight was just bad all around. After having been given a stabbing migraine by the spoiled rich bitches, Syn then had to put up with a few idiot drunks at The Blue Wave, only those drunks decided to get way beyond drunk and then proceeded to start a huge bar brawl. The bouncers were given a good run for their money tonight as, quite literally, the entire place erupted in fighting.

Even the dancers took some injuries, none all that serious. They were probably more scared than anything else. Even Mydnyte got a couple of owies tonight. She was sporting a puffy and split lower lip, as well as a few cuts on the back of her left hand, received just before R'hyn, the hulking bouncer assigned to protect the bar area, was able to grab her and get her to the back.

Mydnyte was tired, her head was still pounding, and she was looking forward to getting home where she could soak in a nice, long, hot bubble bath, then pour herself some wine and hit the sack. She planned to sleep in the next morning, too, as she had the next two days and nights off from both of her places of employment.

Syn hadn't noticed that the tram had stopped and people were getting off. But thanks to autonomy she rose and departed the vehicle, too. "Watch it." Someone growled at her as they bumped right into her. This pulled the lady back to the here and now. Mydnyte blinked a few times and looked to the man hurrying across the street with his shoulders hunched and his head down. Pardon me, she thought with a bit of sarcasm.

Truly noticing the block for the first time, Mydnyte came to realize that she had gotten off of the tram a few blocks before her stop. The lady just sighed heavily, stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets and started walking. The temperature was cool for this time of year, dipping into the upper 40's. She could smell rain in the air and saw ominous clouds beginning to build in the western sky.

Fifteen minutes later, Mydnyte trudged up the stairs leading to her front door. Lazily she pulled her keys from her jacket pocket and sifted through them until finding the right one. The key was inserted into the keyhole but it soon became obvious that the act of using the key was pointless. The front door creaked open, apparently not having been closed completely.

That's strange, she thought as she cautiously pushed the door open a little more, just enough to let her peer inside a split-second before entering. Maybe I didn't pull it all the way closed this morning when I left. Likely? Not in the least. Possible? She would concede that it was possible. Crossing the threshold, Mydnyte tossed the keys into a small decorative basket that had been centered on a small half-table set next to the door specifically for the sole purpose of having a common, easy-to-remember area to keep her keys and such.

Though it was dark, she still went through the motions of scanning the living room and kitchen area through tired eyes. Things seemed normal and she didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Taking off her jacket, Syn hung it from the handle of the small front closet immediately behind the front door and to her right.

Then she flipped on the light. Mydnyte screamed. She totally was NOT expecting anyone to be in her home, let alone to have Ryan standing there --

"My carpet! Ryan, what fra --!" She began, pissed to see her brand-spanking new white carpet completely ruined by a huge puddle of blood staining the white to crimson red. But when she looked from the horrible stain to Ryan, who was using the wall to support himself. He looked as if he was about to keel right over then and there.

"Ryan! Oh my stars, what the hell?!" Mydnyte rushed to his side and hooked her arms around his upper torso, then tried to help him to the couch. Instead, he slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Seeing that he had been injured, Mydnyte immediately became quite worried. She looked from him, to his arm, then to the hooded and bound man tied to the chair. The scene was entirely surreal, like something straight out of a R'ubrik film. She had questions, but right now treating Ryan's injury was most important. "Oohh, just a minute. I'll get the first aid kit and get the bleeding stopped."

She was on her feet in the blink of an eye and dashing off to the kitchen. The dark-haired lass disappeared briefly but upon return, the sound of a cabinet smacking shut was followed by Syn returning to the living room and kneeling at Ryan's side. Her hands were trembling, her heart was racing, and she was blinking back a few tears. She had no idea what was going on, what had transpired, why there was a man bound and hooded and tied to a chair in her living room, or why Ryan was here and bleeding all over the place.

She just knew that she cared for him, very deeply, and he was hurt. After flipping open the medkit, she pulled out some packages of gauze and hurried tore them open and ripped out the thick, square pads. She placed several over the wound on Ryan's tricep and applied pressure with her right hand. "If I can just ... reach ..." Syn was trying to reach her jacket with her left but it was just out of arm's reach. "Hold this here so I can grab my cell. I'll get you an ambulance and get the authori --"

Ryan interrupted the lady by grasping her reaching left arm. When she looked at him, he shook his head and set his stoney-eyed gaze upon her. "No, Syn."

Mydnyte's brows dipped deeply, causing lines of confusion to mar her forehead and wrinkle the bridge of her nose. She shook her head, wondering what was going on, why he didn't want her to get the authorities involved. But Ryan didn't even begin to explain. He just held her gaze and shook his head no methodically.

Unsure of what to make of all this, Mydnyte reluctantly swallowed and nodded subtly. He couldn't stop her from tending to his injury though as she resumed doing that, but in silence for a little bit. Every now and then though, she'd look into his eyes and wonder. Why'd you come? Or, You know I'm such a fool for you. "What happened, Ryan?" She finally asked, softly, keeping her eyes focused on the bacta patch she was now securing on his arm. "I can't believe you broke into my house." She was mad. Or at least trying to be mad at him. "And who is that? Why is he here? How did he get here? And why do you have him bound and hooded to my chair in my living room?!"
Last edited by Mydnyte Syn on 2011-09-07 20:02, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-09-07 19:45

(OOC note: whatever Ryan says should not be construed as truth about Syn's history. Merely what he wants her to think, which pieces are true and which not is for you to decide ;) )

"Finally, gods, I'm tired of bleeding," Ryan thought to himself. His green eyes watched Syn carefully as she bandaged him up. It came as a bit of surprise to him that he had predicted her actions so precisely. Apparently his skills at judging how people worked extended farther than he had originally expected.

The Mercenary shifted seemingly uncomfortable, "That's a lot of questions, Syn." His eyes burned with that perpetual intensity that indicated either genius or madman, or both. The hardened stone of his face softened slightly and he dropped his eyes. "But I guess I owe you some answers. You should sit down for this." Ryan's tone still had that almost perpetual calm force, only it appeared less arrogant, more caring.

He had to confess, it was hard for him to appear normal. The feeling that he was.... special, superior, generally overrode his mindset in dealing with other living beings, but occasionally he could don the mask of normality and appear to be nothing more than your average man. At least as average as a man could be sitting in a room with a knife wound in his arm, a hooded prisoner, and an attractive woman demanding answers.

"Sorry about the floor, but I can be inconsiderate of aesthetics when I'm light headed from bleeding out." Ryan growled irritably and glancing over at the puddle of blood, "I hope you have some sodium hypochlorite." Propping himself up against the wall in a more agreeable position, Ryan sighed, "Anyway, thanks for fixing me. Let's start with breaking into the house..."

"I would've gone back to my place, but they were too hot on my tail and you were closer. Now you probably want to know who 'they' are." Ryan sighed again, "I'd prefer not to tell you, but I guess you should know... considering..." Ryan glanced away from Syn, briefly. "They were the ones Syn- your family..." he growled, "Sorry, I'm not very good at explaining things."

"That man," Ryan nodded at the hooded prisoner, "Is the one responsible for funding that unpleasant project on Necropolis that caught us all up. He's a politician, Syn." Ryan gave her a knowing look. "But he isn't just that, Syn... from the brief scraps of information I could get from him.... before he passed out he told me something about for your mother, your real mother. He said something about Dathomir, and witches... and your real family. Apparently there was a project on Dathomir, but it ended badly." Ryan sometimes had a hard time 'breaking the news' without being blunt, mostly because he really didn't give a damn. Often it was just, so-and-so's dead... and the other person nodded understandingly. Here it was different. "You had another brother, Syn, he told me. I don't know if you knew, but, uhm, when the project failed... I'm sorry. I don't know anything else, he won't tell me."

Ryan turned to glare at the hooded figure. "If you want anymore, you'll have to talk to him yourself."
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-09-08 03:42

Mydnyte continued to finish securing the bacta patch to Ryan's arm, then glanced to the man for a second or two as she lifted his shirt. "Let me do this," she said very softly just as he had shifted uncomfortably. Syn didn't know for certain what his discomfort was from, but she guessed it was from the wound still seeping from his side.

As she ripped open a small packet of sterilization wipes and began to clean up the area around the wound in his side, she snorted softly to the apology for bleeding all over her carpet. Just saying sorry seemed to come with difficulty from the man, but she conceded that he had a point. He didn't really have a choice as to where he bled now did he? "In the laundry room but the carpet's ruined. I'll have to replace it," the woman said conversationally.

Now that the blood around his wound had been cleaned up, Mydnyte could see it better. She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, wrinkling her nose. It looked deep enough to require a medics care but not deep enough to be life threatening. Which means it was just deep enough to destroy the carpet. It still seeped crimson fluid, but Mydnyte tore open another packet of sterilized gauze and pressed it firmly against the wound.

As Ryan spoke, Mydnyte's midnight pools met his stony, captivating gems. Who are they? She wondered and the confusion or lack of knowledge was revealed in her expression. When Ryan looked away from her, Syn took the moment to look at the gauze she'd used to staunch his bleeding. It had ceased seeping and now she could carefully relinquish pressure so she could get the bacta patch opened and applied.

"My family?" She said, pausing in the process of using her pretty pearly whites to tear open the packet containing the bacta patch. A small bit of the corner stuck to the tip of her tongue and Syn looked to Ryan again as she gingerly plucked that tiny bit of packaging out of her mouth with the tip of her index finger and thumb, then just let it drop to the floor. One tiny bit of packaging wasn't going to ruin it any more than Ryan's bleeding all over it had. "They were the ones? Ryan, what in the Emperor's black bones are you talking about?"

She nudged his arm out of the way so she could apply the bacta patch to the wound on his side, listening to Ryan as he spun his tale of discovering whom had been behind the dead rising from their graves on Necropolis and somehow connecting at least one of the men behind that sicko project to ... Mydnyte absentmindedly pressed gently but firmly to adhere the patch to Ryan's skin as she now looked into his eyes. Her brows were deeply knit, her eyes had grown darker in color (if that were even possible). "My mother?" The word mother itself seemed to be spat forth like venom. "Another brother? Dathomir?"

Mydnyte sat back on her heels, her hands now resting atop of her thighs. She sat there, staring at Ryan. Her expression was hard to read. The woman was either angry, trying to swallow the bile that had just risen from her stomach to burn her throat, or confused to the point of thinking Ryan had just taken one too many hits off the Ryll bong. After seething for a bit, working her jaw until it ached, Mydnyte finally cleared her throat and tore her eyes from Ryan's as she angrily picked up the discarded packaging for the trash and threw the items that remained back into the med kit. "My ... mother ... Ryan ... was nothing but a drug-addicted whore who sold her own daughter into the same lifestyle."

Mydnyte swiftly pushed herself to stand and stalked to the kitchen to throw away the empty first aid packages. She tossed the first aid kit on the counter and just left it there. As she stood there, her head lowered, left hand rubbing harshly across her still aching brows, it hit her that Ryan had said that man he'd abducted and had tied to a chair in her living room was a politician.

"Oh shit," the woman cursed aloud, wheeling around on her heels and glaring at Ryan. "Are you INSANE?! You kidnapped a politician, brought him to MY place -- why, because you hadn't cleaned yours yet?! -- tied him to a chair and threw a hood over his head?! And what in the frak is this shit? Dathomir? Witches? Secret scientific projects gone horribly wrong? Have I stepped into a parallel dimension or onto a movie set?"

Now Mydnyte began searching the first floor. She poked her head into the small 'fresher, then into the cooling unit in the kitchen, a few of the cabinets, and even considered looking under the couch. "Oh wait, this is one of those crappy reality holovid shows where you trick me, right? I'm suppose to freak out, then you and a hidden crew pop out and yell 'Surprise!' then we all have a good laugh and all is forgiven, right?"

Mydnyte stalked over to Ryan, who had by now managed to push himself from the floor but still leaned casually back against the wall, watching her. She got close enough to the man, right in his face, so that the tips of their noses touched. "Guess what, Ryan? I'M NOT LAUGHING!"

Those cerulean eyes of hers seemed to become the color of the sky when a terrible storm was brewing. That beautiful, electrically-charged deep blue-grey tinged with black and deep purple, promising to be almighty powerful and dangerously spectacular soon enough. "Do you have any idea of how much trouble we'd both be in if anyone finds out about this?" She asked, now speaking very softly. Tears shimmered like crystal clear diamonds along the lower lid of her stormy eyes but the woman had never noticed that Ryan's mention of her mother, bringing up a past she'd just as soon forget, and a brother she had heard once before about but never knew, had truly affected her.

God, I just want to kiss you, her mind suddenly thought as she fell deeper and deeper into Ryan's brilliant emerald eyes. "Why, Ryan? Why did you have to go and do this? I was fine with not knowing. I was fine with burying my past. Why couldn't you just be fine with it, too?" Syn looked hurt. More like agonized deep within her heart. She almost whimpered that last question in fact. "What am I suppose to do now? Huh? You tell me, Ryan, because I don't know. I'm scared. I'm scared of the way I feel right now. I'm scared of the way I feel when I'm around yu --"

Syn caught herself and turned away. She looked to the man bound to the chair and shook her head. "I need a drink."

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-09-08 16:44

His face paled as if in pain as she had called this all a joke. "I think I saw some Corellian Brandy in the Fridge..." he said lamely. "Is that what you think this is? A joke? Syn... you don't understand. I did this for you! To help you! To find answers for you! You matter to me, I just thought you deserved to know what really happened."

Korr staggered over to a chair talking as he went, "Look, the authorities don't even know what happened, it was a bunch of his goons that were tailing me. So don't worry about it, this is all well within ethical boundaries. Mr. Politician here has been a very corrupt man," Ryan ruffled the bag on the man's head with his good hand before completing his walk to the chair and sitting down.

He stared at Syn for a moment, green eyes meeting blue. "Look, Syn, you want to bury the past? Go right ahead, but let me tell you something. I buried my past, I dug a hole so far down I didn't think it'd ever be found," a deep, dark pain entered his eyes and it wasn't from the wound. "You know what happened? It got found. Ever here about repressed memories? Well that's what I have; something inside me so dark, so horrible I couldn't stand to remember it. My self-conscious thought I was better off not knowing. I was wrong. When those memories came to the surface it hit me so hard I didn't know if I was going to come back, but I did. And you know what? I came back stronger."

"Or eviler. Did you ever really know it was you who did it?" his thoughts ran with the shadows and Ryan pushed them aside. He didn't need that right now.

"You can't spend your whole life running, Syn. Sometimes you have to face your fears, and that's when you find out who you really are. You want me to tell you what to do? Fine, I'm telling you you need to face them, right here right now." Ryan's tone became harsh as he bit out the last words. "That's when you feel truly alive," he thought to himself, inside he grinned wickedly. Outwardly he maintained his stony composure.

Korr sighed as Syn stared at him, those electric blue orbs confused, terrified, afraid. "I've had... familial problems as well, Syn." He saw the anger in his eyes, anger he knew was directed partially at him, but mostly at her mother. So much anger... so much grief. "I understand your anger toward your mother. It's part of what makes you strong, what keeps you running. But you had something I never did... an actual family, at least for a while. Maybe in some perverted way your mother did care about you, enough to get you out of the road she was going. Otherwise you'd probably be like her, an addict with no future attached to their mother. She got you away from her, which was probably the best thing she ever did for you. You had horrible things done to you, by men like him over there, but look at you now. Whatever you think, your mother made you strong by getting you off her lap. But if she was so horrible, don't you want to know what happened... how it all ended? Don't make the same mistake I did, don't bury your past." Korr's eyes burned softly he leaned forward, staring intensely into those cerulean blues. Searching for something, anything. They were centimeters apart.

"Does it matter to you at all that that man killed your family?" His stare became accusatory. "Even if your mother was a horrible person, she was still family. You hate her, but you didn't want her to be killed by someone else. If anything you wanted to do it yourself. But it burns you up inside that someone else did it, because that stuff should stay inside the family." Ryan's eyes turned on the politician, but snapped back suddenly to Syn. " Why don't you ask him? Get him to tell you how it happened."
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-09-09 03:41

Mydnyte, with a glance at the politician still hooded and tied to the chair, padded into the kitchen as Ryan spoke. He managed to get a small, quick bit of a smile from the woman when he said that she mattered to him. A cabinet door was opened and two glasses clinked against each other as she took them down and set them on the counter. "I deserve to know what really happened?" She repeated, tossing two cubes of ice into each glass then pouring the brandy until both glasses were each half-full.

Mydnyte took both glasses and offered one to Ryan, who had now found himself a chair to sit in. "I was fine with not knowing," she said as she offered Ryan one of the glasses of Corellian brandy. Ethical boundaries? Her eyes may have given away her thought as she swirled the brandy around in the glass and let it roll smoothly over the ice.

As she listened to Ryan spin his tale, she knocked back a long pull of the hard liquor, enough so her cheeks puffed out and then she swallowed. She shook her head, a sharp left-to-right snap as the liquid burned down her throat and forced her jaw muscles to contract, pulling her teeth together firmly. Her heart ached for the man. It really did. She had fallen hard for Ryan, had since they'd first met back on Necropolis.

Granted, she didn't get to see him all that often, but he was always on her mind and in her heart. Though he hadn't ever asked her to officially be his significant other, she still turned down other men who asked her out or asked for her digits. Part of her knew that, or at least suspected, that he didn't feel quite the same way toward her, but it hurt too much to consider so she ignored it. Then, after going months without having contact, he shows up in her life again suddenly.

Only this time when Ryan re-appeared, he brought with him a bunch of stuff she could never have imagined he'd get into. Such as digging into the past. Her past. Though she and Ryan had had opportunities to talk, like the night of the ball at the Winte`Shrine estate, and he had learned a bit about the woman who could only be described as possessing exotic beauty, he hadn't been told much about her past.

At least, details of that part of her life had not crossed her lips. He'd had little to go on and as Syn now stood there, tossing back the rest of the brandy in her glass as if it were cider berries, she recollected that she had only told Ryan that the name she currently went by - Mydnyte Syn - was her slave name and not her birth name. It'd been so long though since anyone had addressed her by her birth name that the woman no longer recalled what it actually was.

Three swallows. That was all it took for the pretty blue-eyed, dark haired woman to toss back the brandy. She finished listening to everything Ryan had to say and when he leaned forward, keeping her close to him ... Oh god, she groaned in her head. Mydnyte's knees felt weak, her heart raced, and her lips parted ever so slightly. Her mouth suddenly went bone-dry, her palms felt clammy and began to sweat. Even when Ryan glanced toward the politician, Syn continued to watch Ryan's eyes. But when he looked back to her, she forced herself to look away by turning her back to Ryan and headed for the kitchen.

"Let me tell you about my family, Ryan, since you seem to be all gun-ho on digging up the skeletons of my sick and twisted past." The woman said softly, without emotion, as she returned with not just her refilled glass of brandy, but the bottle itself. "You say I matter to you, huh. Let's see how much I still matter to you after you hear all about me, shall we?"

A glance toward the clock on the wall indicated it was now closing on 2:25 in the morning. Mydnyte's headache was finally beginning to ebb but that was only because the hard liquor was doing it's job of numbing her entire body, beginning at the head and working it's way down. Some men might actually feel jealous of the warmth provided by the brandy as it slowly slithered down her body, caressing each curve tenderly as if the liquid were the artist and Syn were the clay being molded.

"Do you want to hear all of the twisted, sordid details of how many men used me for their pleasure, though I laid there crying? I know, maybe you'd like to hear how my virginity was violently stolen from me. Is that it, Ryan? Do you want to hear about how I was "educated" in the ways of making "men" feel good? Or should I teach you how to tell if a cut of ryll is high quality or not? Or maybe you're into the really good stuff, huh? Maybe you'd really like to hear about just how addictive glittertsim, ryll, and glitteryll (an unusual mixture of glitterstim and ryll), really are.

"Because I tell you what, Ryan. I may not have been using for the past couple of years now and I cleaned myself up, thanks to the man who claims to have been my biological father, but not a damn day goes by that I don't have to consciously fight off the urge to find a dealer and get high! How much do you like me now, Ryan?"


Passionate, the lady was. Filled with angry passion, a burning need to hurt those who had hurt her so badly and left her as damaged goods, Mydnyte's electric blue eyes burned with an inner fire that had not been stoked in many, many years. Mydnyte stood in front of Ryan, breathing heavily as the anger released more adrenaline, staring down at him sitting in the chair. Purposely placing both hands on the back of the chair, Mydnyte leaned down until her face was again mere centimeters from his. "My family," the word was forced and tasted like ascorbic acid in her mouth, "consisted of a Master and a drug dealer. Both of whom sold me to the highest bidder every night for twelve out of the past fourteen years, Ryan. I'm twenty-six now. You do the math."

The lady seemed on the verge of becoming unraveled. It was through sheer force of strong will that she continued to hold herself relatively together. "You once asked me why I hate politicians. Do you still want to know why?" She asked, her voice was delicately soft and she canted her head slightly to the left, averting her eyes from Ryan's and down to his lips. She leaned in a little closer, close enough to brush a kiss across his lips if she could no longer restrain herself. If you do, you realize that he'll own you completely, don't you? Her mind, a darker part of her inner psyche coughed itself to life. "Because it was those politicians who hurt me the most."

Those eyes of hers now returned to Ryan's. Filled with tears, her lips trembling. One tear fell. The another. Just this once, she told herself. Just. This. Once. Mydnyte brushed a feather-light kiss across Ryan's lips then stood and swiped the fallen tears from her cheeks, turning away from Ryan. "You'd better take him with you when you leave, Ryan. I fear what I would do to him if he stays any longer."

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-09-09 23:38

A sickly sinister, sadistic smile slithered across Ryan's face that would've seeded shivers in the souls of any who saw it, or at least minor nausea. It had been essential that Syn make the first move in this 'romance'. Well... move made. No doubt she thought it love that had brought about this, but it was simply the will of the force.

She had established several important things. One, a knowledge base for him to go off of. Two, a way for him to connect with her through horrific childhood stories. And finally the confirmation that she was yearning to kill this politician. He just needed to push her over the edge... the rest would be her fault. When manipulating emotions it was important that the manipulator never made their victim 'do' anything. Everything was seemingly unlinked suggestions and wily placed comments to incite the correct emotions. But before that, he needed to establish a base of connection with her.

The smile faded from his face and was replaced by confusion scribbled across his features. "S-syn, I... I can't do this."

He stood, "I've never been good with people," he raised his hands apologetically and backed toward the door. "I just want you to know that I don't think any less of you because of that. It wasn't your fault, none of this was. It's all my fault, I'm sorry Syn." His hoarse voice sounded torn, sorrow welling within it and seeming to fill every word he spoke. Sorrow that it had to be this way. Sorrow for everything that had happened. Suddenly he changed directions and moved toward the man, starting to untie the bonds that held the politician to the chair. "I didn't want to get into this. I never meant for this to happen. I'll just take him and-"

"Ryan-"

"- get out of here. I'll leave. You'll never have to see me again-" Ryan ignored her, his voice becoming more hysteric as fumbled with the politician's restraints.

"Ryan-" Syn said again, quietly.

"You won't have to-"

"RYAN!"

Ryan Korr collapsed to the ground, his head planted in his hands and his body wracked with sorrowful tremors. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with a loneliness that went all the way to his core. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to see me like this. It's just... I've always been on my own, Syn. My step-family isn't like yours. They took me in, but I was never an actual part of their family. I've never belonged, Syn. People looked down on me as the 'orphan boy'. All I want is to belong, Syn. That's all I want."

A flame of bitter hatred suddenly flared to life in his emerald eyes. "But I couldn't have that. My step-brother killed his own father, my father... just because he hated me. He would've killed me too, but I had to run. I had to get away. I was forced to survive on the streets... living off of whatever I could earn by stealing. You want to swap horror stories? I- I killed my first at the age of fourteen."

"Do you want me to tell you how he died?" Ryan stood shakily and advanced on Syn, a crazy light entering his eyes. "We were fighting in a kitchen galley, he had just kicked me down. I remember thinking to myself 'I might die here' and that was when I realized that I'd do whatever it took to survive. When he leaned over me to choke out my life with his hands," Ryan held out his own hands, still closing the distance to Syn as he spoke, "I reached out and grabbed the nearest thing I could... a kitchen knife. You know what I did next? I stabbed him, again, and again," Syn was against the wall now, Ryan slowly reached out and grabbed her lower jaw in a firm grip. The intensity of the heat from the fires in his eyes almost seemed physical. "I killed him. And then I cried."

He traced a trail from the corner of her eye down her cheek with a finger. "I watched the 'light' leave his eyes, Syn. When I was FOURTEEN!" He stopped tracing her cheek and smacked his open palm against the wall in anger. "So don't tell me that you had it hard, as if I can't understand that. DON'T EVER TELL ME THAT! Because I understand you exactly, but I'm sorry if you think we're different just because I'VE KILLED PEOPLE!"

The psychotic light from his eyes died down slightly, like smoldering flames just waiting to be stirred up again, and he released Syn, turning away. "You want me to leave, fine. If you can't come to grips with the fact that I just brought you a rapist politician who killed your family and instigated the death of your step-brother, it's not my problem. But when you wake up from your memory-filled nightmares, wishing you had someway to fix them, don't blame me, because I'm different than you. Because I didn't get raped, I killed a man with a kitchen knife." Ryan's eyes shifted as he turned his back to glance at a rather strategically placed kitchen knife that lay very near to where Syn was standing. In fact, it could be one of the first things she saw if she were to look down in shame. From an outsider's view, and with knowledge of Ryan's intentions, it might've even appeared that he'd been pushing her back into that corner on purpose just so that she would see the knife when she looked down. But that idea was ridiculous... wasn't it?
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-09-10 23:13

T'was perhaps the best thing that Mydnyte hadn't seen the twisted, wicked smile that slithered and darkened Ryan's face. For if she had, Mydnyte would have seen him as she saw others - as snakes. Lying, cheating, good-for-nothing snakes. Syn would have seen the man she fell head over heels in love with from the moment she'd set her eyes upon him as being no different than those who stole her innocence and tainted her soul.

But she hadn't seen the serpent ripple his features for her back had remained toward him. And when the man said he couldn't do this, that he wasn't good with people and that nothing was her fault, it was all his ... her shoulders sank and rolled forward just as her head lowered. She felt her heart begin to shatter in a million pieces, felt each little shard begin to stab its way through her chest. Though Ryan had said he didn't think any less of her, she knew that was a lie. He did think less of her, much less, and now he would not only walk out the door but out of her life.

Please just hurry up and leave. I don't want you to see me when my legs give out and I crash to the floor. Please hurry. Please hurry and just go, she thought, bringing a hand up to her eyes to cover them with her palm as the dam broke and the salty tears poured over. Yet, even as she heard his feet carrying him toward the tied up Senator, Ryan wouldn't shut up. He just kept rambling on and on, even when she tried to garner his attention. Finally she had to shout out Ryan's name just to get him to ... to ...

Confused by the noises she heard, Mydnyte summoned enough strength to control her sobbing stoically and slowly turned around, afraid of what she might find. But she didn't find anything overly frightening. All she saw was Ryan on the floor with his head in his hands, trembling. Mydnyte sniffled once, then once more before meeting Ryan's soulful eyes that revealed a deep seeded loneliness she herself knew all too well. Oh how she wanted to go to him! Just go to him and hold him tight against her bosom, run her fingers through his thick, dark hair and tell him that everything would be all right. Together, they would be all right. Oh how she longed to do that!

Did he say he killed his first - at fourteen? His first? How many has he ki -- Mydnyte never got to finish that thought. Nor did she get to kneel on the floor and take the man into her loving arms much as she longed to. During that small moment of distraction, Ryan had stood and came toward her. It was the question of if she wanted to hear how someone - Who? Had he said it was his step-father? - died by his own hands.

From somewhere deep within Ryan's multifaceted emerald eyes shone a light. But this wasn't a heavenly light, no. That type of light would have made the man's eyes sparkle like jewels left in the sun. This light was ... different. This light emanated cold that chilled Syn to the very marrow of her bones. That light was born of pure, unadulterated hatred.

As Ryan advanced upon her with his hands stretched out, reaching for what she guessed was her throat, Mydnyte carefully backed away but never once took her eyes off of him. She continued to walk backwards, blinding feeling behind with her right hand to make sure she wasn't going to trip over a chair or bump into the counter. Perhaps that wouldn't have been so bad. Now she was pinned against a wall with no where to go, no where to run, and Ryan's hand gripping her jaw firmly.

If Ryan had been in a different frame of mind, he might have seen the fear in Mydnyte's sapphire eyes as she stared at him in shocked terror. Her chest rose and fell deeply, her body hugged the wall tight, as if it would miraculous become pliant and could then just absorb her into it. A lone tear broke free from the outside corner of her eye when Ryan informed her that he had killed him, then cried afterward. Her heart wept for the man who was robbed of his childhood, violently, just as she had been.

Ryan wasn't through telling his tale though. Too afraid to peel her eyes away from his, she had to force herself to close them when Ryan pressed the tip of his finger to the corner of her eye that had just shed a solitary tear, then followed the trail said tear left in its wake. The lady was trembling, visibly quivering, yet she still opened her shimmering eyes and met his callous stare. She flinched and whimpered then squeezed her eyes shut tight once more the instant Ryan stopped tracing the path of her tear and smacked his palm flat against the wall, right next to her ear and rose his voice an octave or two as he finished telling her just how alike their souls truly were.

Seconds ticked by as silence enveloped her apartment and Ryan held her against the wall, but it felt like several minutes to Mydnyte. Afraid to, she opened her eyes and looked to him, still quivering like a mouse trapped within the talon-ed grip of a winged-predator hungry for the kill. Even after he released her, Mydnyte stayed pressed back against that wall for a little longer, following him with her eyes. When Ryan was away from her, Mydnyte let her tensed muscles relax a bit, sniffling and swiping the tears from her cheeks with a few quick passes of her hand over her face.

The lady looked to the knife on the counter, the same one that Ryan had averted his own eyes to. But the woman didn't dare touch it. Ryan just said he was going to leave, accused the Senator tied up in her living room of being at least one of the men behind the death of her step-brother, and reminded her - rather coldly - that she did nothing to stop them from raping her. But out of all that, all she truly heard, continued to hear, was that Ryan was leaving. Does he mean for a minute? For the night? A few days? Forever?

Confused, deeply confused, Mydnyte began to say something but had to pause to clear her throat. "Ryan," she started, then took a few long strides to close the distance he'd put between them. "I'm so sorry for what you've been through," she said sweetly, sincerely, lovingly, even as she reached out a hand to caress his cheek. "Why did you bring him here? I -- I -- Ryan, I'm not like you. I can't just kill someone. It'd make me no better than they are. But if you have proof that he's behind Necropolis, behind Stefan's death, we can go to the authorities."

She was nodding, trying to convince Ryan that having the Senator brought up on charges was the right way to go about it all. "Or, if you don't want to do that, we can just go. We can just leave, Ryan, together. We can go anywhere you want and we can start life over, start new. You and me. What about that?"

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-09-14 22:05

Ryan ripped himself away from Syn's touch and, turning his back on her. He looked over his shoulder at Syn, his expression filled with such sorrow that the ground itself would cry out in sympathy if it could. "You think I want you to kill him?" His shoulders drooped. "I just wanted answers for you."

He glanced at the door, as if walking through it could somehow let him escape this whole situation. Leave. They could leave, go anywhere they wanted. Leaves that drifted on an endless wind. But Ryan was sick of being blown around. He had been manipulated by everyone he had ever called close. It was time to stop being the leaf and become the wind. No longer was he simply a soul adrift at the mercy of the seas, he would become a force of nature. Utterly unstoppable, utterly uncontrollable, adapting to survive and controlling whoever need be in order to rise to the top of this pitiful food chain. And all for what? Was that it? To get to the top.

Slowly, Ryan reached up a hand to his forehead. "I never wanted to kill anyone, Syn. But that choice wasn't mine to make."

The truth was that he didn't know what he wanted. To belong? No. He wanted to be special. He knew he was special, different. Your whole life you could search for a truth, but no one ever tells you that the truth doesn't matter. He'd climbed to the top of this pillar of knowledge and all he'd found was the cold comfort of aloneness. The truth was that he needed someone else to understand his pain, to share the understanding of what the galaxy really was. Without the lie of innocence a blind was lifted. This was all natural selection and he was simply the next stage. He was becoming what he was meant to be, and he didn't care if he had to let the galaxy burn for that to happen. When innocence is a lie, no one is free of guilt.

Syn was like him, special, he knew it. She just needed to realize it. Her 'family' values and ideals weren't hers. He just needed to strip back those outer layers and bring her baser instincts to the surface. Maybe after this she would come to accept his true nature. But he knew she wouldn't. No one loves a monster. That's why monsters wear masks. Only his was a mask of sanity.

He glanced back over his shoulder again, "Is that it...you just want to run. You're afraid of me, Syn... because I'm a killer. And you...." His face turned to loathing as his glance took in the 'politician' strapped to the chair. "You clearly have your own problems..."

Ryan opened the door, and looked back one more time; reluctance on his face, and pity. "I hate your past, Syn.... I hate it. I'm sorry... this is goodbye." And then he was gone.
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-09-15 02:50

Hell Hath No Fury

Mydnyte stood there in the darkened living room of her newly rented townhome at around three a.m listening to the few words Ryan had left for her, dumbfounded and more confused than a one-armed Stormtrooper trying to figure out if he should wind his butt or scratch his chronometer. Each time she tried to approach Ryan or reach out to him, he just pushed her away or stepped back, creating more and more distance between their bodies.

This night had been so utterly confusing, so mentally draining. Syn couldn't even think anymore, it caused too much physical pain. Just when she though that she had cried all of the tears she could possibly cry, the waterworks began to flow yet again. Each time she stammered to interrupt the words coming from Ryan's mouth, whether to correct an inaccuracy, clear a misunderstanding, or even to beg him not to go ... Ryan ignored her and spoke the hurtful words anyway.

As Ryan opened the door and looked back at her one last time, Mydnyte saw the look in his wonderfully dark eyes and it made her cast her own eyes to the floor both in shame and surrender. Then she heard the words she had hoped to never hear from his lips; This is good-bye, followed by the sound of his walking away and the door closing one final time. That caught her attention and immediately her head snapped up as she took one, then two long strides toward the door but failed to reach it in time. She heard the handle click and Ryan heading down the stairs and out of her life for good just as she said, "I love you, please don't --".

The final word never made it past her own lips for the woman's knees suddenly gave out on her and Mydnyte crashed to the floor as her heart first clenched so tightly in her chest she might have thought she was having a heart attack. But then she felt it breaking, breaking into a billion billion tiny, razor-sharp shards and she knew, in the back of her mind she knew ... her life was about to change ...

Forever.

Lucky for her the couple living in the unit next to hers had moved out and the place remained vacant still. For the wailing cry that poured forth from the woman would have made their skin crawl, their bodies shiver, and their minds to wonder what in the hell just made such a god-awful, heart-wrenching sound. In that very moment, Mydnyte's heart exploded and those billions of tiny shards pierced the woman's soul to its very core. Darkness swarmed in to overcome the light and by the time all was said and done, Syn was nothing more than a quivering, sobbing heap on the floor.

If she had to guess how much time passed that she laid there, sobbing hysterically, she would have said it felt like forever. But her answer wouldn't be winning her any game show tournaments. It was approximately fifteen minutes before she actually heard some sounds that had been going on behind her since Ryan closed the door and walked away. So caught up in her grief, though, Mydnyte failed to even remember that there was a hooded, bound politician tied to a chair several feet behind her.

But by the time she realized what was going on, that abducted man had managed to free himself of the ties that bound him and he ripped the cloth off of his head and advanced on Mydnyte. "Stupid BITCH!" He was beyond pissed off and Mydnyte found out just how far beyond pissed he was when his booted foot slammed into her side and quite literally lifted the woman a few inches from the floor and sent her across the room and into the wall near the kitchen. The woman oomphed audibly and just as she was about to cry out from the explosion of pain in her side, the kick forced the breath from her lungs and left Mydnyte gasping for air as she writhed against the wall, clutching at the area the politician's boot landed on her body. In fact, the six-foot-five, two-hundred-twenty-five pound man kicked her so hard that the area was already bruising a deep and angry purple.

"Stupid whore, I told you the last time I ever saw you, if our paths crossed again, I'd make you pay for the mistakes you made." He seethed, stomping purposely across the room, covering the distance in three long strides. "Did you really believe you'd ever be free from me? I OWN YOU, BITCH!" Came his booming voice just as he grabbed a thick handful of her long dark hair and hauled her bodily to her feet then slammed her back against the wall.

Mydnyte, still reeling from the first attack, had just about caught her breath and was trying desperately to scream for help, finally saw the face of the man who had been brought to her home by Ryan. The color from her face drained immediately, visibly, as if someone had just poured turpentine over a Rembrandt, washing away all of the beautiful colors. Krayn! Senator Krayn had retired a handful of years ago but he was the man who owned her and kept his slave- and drug-trading ventures hidden from most of the rest of the galaxy. There were still many planets that allowed and even encouraged slavery, though. Mydnyte wondered for a moment how Ryan knew about Krayn, knew that he was the man who owned and tormentor her, and where to find him.

She only had that instant to wonder though before Krayn clutched her by the throat tightly and began to squeeze. Leaning down to press his face into hers, his wild eyes eager to revel in seeing the exotic beauty struggle, beg, and finally submit as she had so long ago. "I'll be sure to thank your boyfriend for taking me straight to you. Right before I slit his throat," he purred huskily, pressing his nose against hers. Mydnyte turned her head to the side, away from Krayn's as she tried prying his fingers off her neck or slapping and scratching at his face in panic, hoping against hope that Ryan would come charging through the front door like a valiant dark knight and save her from this monster.

Krayn just laughed at her paltry attempt of defending herself. "You're still just as weak and pathetic as you were before, my little Syn. My precious, perfect, most favorite girl of 'em all." Krayn pressed a firm kiss to the corner of her mouth then licked her cheek. "Oh how I've missed you. Maybe I'll just have a little taste before I drag you back with me, hm? Would you like that my sweet?"

Mydnyte's eyes closed, forcing a tear or two to roll down her cheeks. Where they disappeared to, she had no idea. Part of her wanted to succumb to Krayn and beg his forgiveness, plead with him to show mercy and willingly go with him back to a life of forced servitude in the most displeasing of ways. She could get the fix she died for each and every day and silence that voice in her head forever. It'd be so easy to do, too. After all, Ryan had just walked out the door on her, breaking her heart and making her out to be the fool.

But something welled up from somewhere deep inside. Mydnyte wouldn't ever be able to determine where this determination came from, but she would be glad that it broke free from whatever chains had bound it within a gilded cage. For when these chains were broken, Mydnyte began to fight and to fight with every last fiber in her being. In the back of her mind Syn figured that with Krayn being so much taller, heavier, and far more skilled in the art of battle than she ever would be, that fighting was futile and in the end she'd probably be killed.

There was another part of her mind, though, that forced the woman to think differently. Instead of feeling shame or fear for what she once was, she converted those weak feelings into anger. Syn used that anger to provide the fuel needed to stoke the fires that had been simmering deep within over the years, waiting until they were fed the air they needed in which they could erupt into a roaring blaze and perhaps even catch something flammable and become an inferno.

'I hate your past, Syn. I hate it. I'm sorry, this is good-bye.' She heard Ryan's voice inside her head, saw the look in his eyes, the expression on his face. When Mydnyte looked into Krayn's face her entire past came crashing through the barriers with the rage of a thousand nuclear warheads being unleashed at once. Those deadly missiles violently crashed through the hardened, thick barriers the woman had erected not only around her heart but in her mind as well, effectively freeing the deadly demons that haunted her dreams each and every night for as long as she could remember.

"ARGH!" The woman unleashed a war cry the likes of which had never before been heard, especially from her, as she dug her thumbs deeply into the inside corners of Krayn's eyes and continued to push them in further and further, even as the blood began to flow and Krayn bellowed out in rage and pain. This forced Krayn to relinquish his hold upon her and to step back. As soon as Mydnyte found her footing, she drove a knee into Krayn's groin and dropped the man like a sack of wet cement.

While he was down, writhing on the floor in pain and cursing her very existence, Mydnyte raced to the kitchen to retrieve the knife that had been laying out on the corner of the counter. The woman didn't hear anything else Krayn said. She didn't hear his mean, awful, hurtful, slanderous taunts that were meant to weaken her, not give her strength. Syn didn't hear his words for all she heard was Ryan's voice, repeating over and over that it was good-bye, that she had her own problems, that she was afraid of him. How he wanted answers for her, never mind the fact that she didn't want the answers. How he saw her as weak, a burden, one to be thrown away as if she were just trash.

Something snapped and Mydnyte lost all track of time, had no sense of where she was, and saw nothing but red. Deep, dark, crimson red everywhere she looked. The woman didn't hear herself as she cursed Krayn, damned him to Hell, while repeatedly stabbing him over and over and over. She didn't feel how easily that sharp blade slid into his meaty flesh as if she were slicing into butter. Mydnyte also didn't notice the plumes of thick, sticky, fluid spraying upward; hitting the woman in the face, splashing her arms, coating her hands.

The blood flew, the man's eyes stared lifeless at the ceiling, the expression of shock and pain was forever frozen on his face as the life left his body. Even after Krayn was dead, Mydnyte continued to drive that kitchen knife into his body. It wasn't until she heard the front door open and saw from the corner of her eye as someone stepped inside that Mydnyte stopped stabbing the slave owner and lifted her head to see who had come in.

Eyes that were once beautiful were now feral, lips that once smiled or pressed a soft kiss upon a stubbly cheek were now dripping blood from not only her own freshly open wound but from getting sprayed as she brutally murdered her past, now snarled. The adrenaline rush was quickly coming to an end and now her lithe body was poised above the bloating remains of retired Senator Krayn of Tattooine, shaking uncontrollably. Her right hand was still raised, the knife poised to be plunged again into the man's chest. Blood dripped in rivulets from the end of the blade and the pool of it beneath the body still spread but it was waning as well.

To the sane, Mydnyte would look rather ugly right now - both physically and internally. But that would be to the eyes of the sane. The insane might see things quite differently.

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-09-15 22:32

Beautiful to an Insane Mind

A ray of bloody light filtered through the room from the outside as the door swung open. A dull red sun rose behind the figure standing in the doorway, casting his shadow on the floor tinged with red. Ryan Korr re-entered the room. A sense of urgency through the force had pulled him back. Even an untrained sensitive such as him could feel a powerful movement of the force, and powerful it was indeed.

Korr felt it as soon as he opened the door. Violence hung freely in the air. A thin drapery that clouded the senses and blanketed the emotions with wild-eyed fear. Ryan saw red again, blinding his sight. The intoxicating vision of death. His eyelids fluttered. The metallic tang of freshly spilled blood engulfed Ryan's senses. He could taste it on his tongue, smell it in the air, feel it on his hands, hear its slow trickle. A tide of maroon flooding the room, rising slowly, drowning him. It whispered his name, cried out in pain, love, no... anger. Raging at him while smothering him, filling him up and crushing him. A torrent of fire and a blizzard of ice that froze his soul and burned his body to ashes.

Blink.

Gone.

A vision of death still spread itself before his eyes. An angel held her weapon raised above a servant of darkness. Her eyes crackled with violent electricity, shooting tendrils of uncontrollable energy in every direction. Her hair was matted and tangled with roses of bereaved life. A snarl of victory twisted her face, her arms rippling with a lithe, sinuous strength hitherto unknown and coated in slick maroon. On her cheeks were streaks of mortuous rouge. Tiny rivers the color life trickled down her arms and blade, dripping onto the rended and ruptured body of the now unrecognizable Krayn. The crimson, scarlet drops fell in a silence that seemed to stretch on for eternity.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Ryan stared and found.... nothing. He had no emotion to this scene of horror, which he found odd. Didn't he stage this entire scene just for this one moment of triumph? His victory had been almost effortless. Why then did he feel nothing? Others would empty their stomachs at something like this... the truly insane - fellows in the same company as the Knave - would probably just laugh. So what did that make him, feeling nothing but the coldness of his own black heart?

He was not a good person. He knew many 'bad' people, but none were like him. They all felt something in relation to their acts. Perhaps it was because Ryan had not caused this death by his own hands. Yet though it was Syn's hand that drove the knife in, Ryan had been the one who had cooly provoked her to such a deed. Though seemingly free of all guilt in the murder he had been the one to purposefully say words that Syn would misinterpret. It would be all to easy to explain away the words "I hate your past" by saying "but I love you". So what did that make him?

A killer, liar, kidnapper. Yes... and no. He was an agent of justice and a force of nature. He was the right hand of fate. Dispensing of the evil, but simultaneously corrupting the good. Ryan ruled in chaos, but he recognized the order of the galaxy. He recognized that in order there was chaos, and in chaos.... order. Nothing was truly separate. Today he had helped provide justice to a rapist and drug dealer. Tomorrow he might be an arms dealer. Did he really care? No.

To be truly free you had to be a Lord of Chaos, but stay free you would occasionally have to act as an Agent of Order. You could be the master manipulator as much as you wanted to be, but when the time came that Chaos snatched your perfect plan away from you, you had to learn how to simply... adapt.

That was what Ryan did best. Adapt to the situation and you would survive for just that much longer. So when he felt nothing... he adapted, and felt something. Not horror, not disgust, not pleasure. He felt sympathy for Syn's plight. Not so long ago it had been him sitting in a pool of blood, only unlike he told Syn... he hadn't cried. Even at that age his emotional responses were... callous.

It called for change. He felt awe at the power Syn had displayed in exorcising the demons of her past, something he himself still struggled to do. He felt relieved that she had survived; what would he have done without her? He felt sorry that he had left; how foolish had he been? He felt...and it was expressed through his eyes. He felt what Syn wanted him to feel. The mysterious dark angel who had returned, and was never to leave again.

Only he found that he had made another of his own kind that still writhed in the fluids of its birth. Syn flew at him like an avenging angel, ready to plunge her knife into the dark void that was his heart for all the wicked misdeeds he had committed. Still pondering deep inside what it meant to feel nothing, and trying to feel something, Ryan was nearly caught of guard. His reflexes saved him, enabling him to casually block the stab with the back of his wrist and grabbing her own wrist, applying just enough pressure that she dropped the knife.

Finally, the veil of blood lifted from Syn's eyes and she saw who it was that she had tried to kill. The final straw fell and whatever sanity may have been left collapsed as she fell sobbing into his waiting arms. To her, he would always be her protector. But as the tears soaked into his shirt he wondered just how far that vision would stretch if she ever learned what he had done this night.

Ryan stroked the hair of her head, blood stained as it was. Trying to feel where he felt nothing. "I'll never leave you again, Syn. Never again," He whispered. She sniffed as she lifted her head from his chest and stared into his eyes. "I love you, Syn." He brushed her blood-stained cheek with his thumb. Suddenly, their lips met in a violently soft kiss that satisfied the undisclosed desires of her heart, reconciling the violence in her heart and expelling the terrible nightmare she had been living in.

But Ryan felt nothing except his own heart of darkness.







"I know you've suffered
But I don't want you to hide
It's cold and loveless
I won't let you be denied

Soothing
I'll make you feel pure
Trust me
You can be sure

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart"

-Muse
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-09-17 02:44

The moment Mydnyte heard the words she'd longed to hear, received the kiss she had been dying to receive, and fell into the safety of Ryan's strong arms - enveloping her like an angel, albeit a dark one, receiving the soul of a faithful follower - the woman felt a sense of cold, euphoric peace the likes of which she had never felt before. But all wonderful kisses must come to an end, unfortunately.

Mydnyte slowly pulled away first, though her eyes remained closed for another full minute after their lips separated. The smell of copper hung heavy in the air, permeating her nostrils and assaulting her senses. Slowly she opened her eyes and looked up to Ryan. Clearly her mind was working, sifting through the most recent stills of the horrible atrocious act she'd just committed, the one that damned her soul to Hell for eternity.

Teary blue eyes grew wider and wider as the realization set in. Her lithe, blood-covered body began to quake. She was lucky that Ryan was holding her as he was or she would have collapsed then and there. Shivering uncontrollably, Mydnyte looked at her bloodied hands, turning the quavering appendages over as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. There's so much of it, she thought, noticing that the blood had begun to dry.

Frightened at what she knew she'd see if she looked behind her, the woman couldn't help it. She had to look or it simply didn't happen. At least in her mind that was how it worked. It was like seeing a Super Star Destroyer crashing into a planet. You could watch the news footage over and over from a safe distance, never being able to tear your eyes away no matter how horrible or graphic the imagery got.

That happened once, too. Many, many years ago under Palpatine's rule. He'd given Isard her own Super Star Destroyer but ha ha, trick was on her, for the SSD was buried beneath the core of Coruscant itself. She got pissed over something and decided it was time the SSD made for the stars. To say an extremely large swath of the planet was brutally destroyed, hundreds of thousands of people were killed, was an understatement.

Each year, on the anniversary of that insidious act, the holonet was flooded with calls to "Never Forget" or to show folks who had been either directly affected or just wanting to be good citizens gathering at numerous memorials that had been erected in honor of the victims. Sure, it was horrible. Yes, good-hearted people and alien species all seemed to take a moments pause in their lives to forget their trials and tribulations of their oh-so-insignificant-lives to actually get along for a few hours to commemorate a terrible event on the same day each year. The very next day, though, all bets were off. It was right back to the normal day-to-day routine of being incredibly absorbed with their own lives as if nobody else mattered, nobody had bigger problems, and everyone had to go right back to hating each other.

But as Mydnyte slowly turned her head to cast a look over her shoulder, deep down the woman knew that each year, on this very date, there would be no commemorations, no ceremonies. No one did that for murderers, after all. Krayn's background remained hidden from the rest of the galaxy for the entirety of his political career. She doubted very much that the authorities were bother digging very far to find the truth of what led to such a gruesome end for the man. Instead, they'd arrest her, plaster her model-esque face all over the airwaves, and paint her out to be an ugly, twisted monster; a lover scorned instead of as the actual victim she truly was.

So when her blue eyes fell upon the dead Senator whose lifeless eyes stared wide up at the ceiling, it was no wonder the woman spun away from Ryan as she fell to her knees and lurched forward, smacking her palms on the floor as her shoulders rolled forward and her stomach heaved. But nothing was expelled. Her stomach was empty. There wasn't even enough stomach acid to expel, but her body tried to vomit a few more times anyway.

Once the lady was certain there would be no more dry heaves, Syn curled her left arm in against her stomach and started rocking back and forth, murmuring something tearfully that at first would only come across as gibberish. Eventually, Ryan would hear the words, but only when she finally lifted her head and turned it upward to face him. "Oh God, what have I DONE!?" she wailed, her tears trailing through the blood coating her face.

The initial shock had worn off and realization of her crime had finally set in. One part of her was very remorseful for what she had done and there was proof of that in the way she clasped her hands firmly together, lacing her trembling fingers between each other, and reciting an old Corellian prayer in the long dead tongue of Olys Corellisi. She had picked it up not only from her mother, but was taught to speak it fluently to help Krayn gain favor with some of the original, not too mention ancient, ruling Houses of Corellian society. She rarely spoke the language since being freed from bondage, but it still came to her naturally.

She heard nothing else, if there were any other things to hear. Perhaps Ryan had tried to gain her attention, perhaps he had meant to try and talk to her, to soothe her or even attempt to calm her. If he had, it fell upon deaf ears. But just as quickly as Syn was to pray and beg forgiveness, she was just as quick to snap her attention to Ryan and turn off the tears, as if she had just reached over and turned off a water faucet.

That easy.

"No. No. He deserved what he got. Right? He deserved it. He-he-he .. you left and he-he-he-he got up and look!" Mydnyte jerked her shirt up to just below her breasts and showed Ryan the huge, nasty black-blue bruise on her ribcage. "It was self defense! See? Right? They'll say it was self defense," the more she repeated it, the more she began to believe it.

In fact, though the woman was still shaking uncontrollably, she managed to get to her feet. Bloodied palms passed over her cheeks a few times as she rid them of the salty tears. She swiped her sleeve over her face and beneath her nose, trying to clean herself up a little. "Oh shit, what a mess. I've got to get this cleaned up," Mydnyte said, almost as casually as if Ryan had just dropped by unexpectedly while she was napping on the couch and hadn't quite cleaned the place up before he came over.

She started to move toward the kitchen too, to get the cleaning agents and tools, then stopped and whirled around. "No, I should call the authorities first and report this. I mean, it was clearly self-defense and they'll see that, too. Oh. But if I try to clean this up, they'll say it was premeditated murder and then they'll arrest me."

Plucking at her lower lip as she fell almost deep into thoughts on how best to proceed, she found herself looking at Ryan again. "I'm going to fay -"

And with that, Mydnyte's eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed to the floor.

She had fainted.

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-09-29 20:19

Ryan stared at Syn's unconscious form and pondered whether or not it was worth it. If he had not been damned before, he surely was now. But would he really be punished for lifting the veil of ignorance from her eyes? No matter the means used, he had done what was necessary. Only the truth could set her free. She was living a life in utter futility. Her work, her job, what did it matter? Even her life was but one pathetic cog in the machinations of the force. But his sinister manipulations had corrupted what others would view as a good and heavenly being. And her fall from grace was violent. Oh, so brilliantly violent. Ryan's eyes drifted over to the body of Senator Krayn and he sighed.

"So much for the carpet."

Korr went out to get the cleaning supplies from his speeder after giving Syn a sleep-inducing drug. As soon as he got back, he got to work. Chemicals for the bloodstains, auto-vac for the actual blood. And his very own plastic raincoat. When dealing with blood and murder, you could never be too careful. Syn's suggestion that they go to the 'police' showed the naivety of her mental state. Self-defense? It hardly looked like it. That was really why she fainted, she understood the consequences and couldn't bear it. No matter, it would be just a passing dream. One that forever changed her.

"Why is it that they cannot understand the futility of their lives?" Ryan wondered aloud, "They work, live, love, and die... but for what? In the end it's all pointless. They don't understand the power they have. They don't understand that hideous strength. It's... intoxicating." He glanced at Syn, who still lay unconscious. "We're more powerful than they are, more important. We're special."

Sometime later, Ryan found himself in an alleyway next to an apartment. Senator Krayn propped up against a garbage bin, the knife standing from his chest. Korr looked in confusion at the wall. There, scrawled in crimson, were two words.

FORGIVE ME

He glanced down at his gloved hands, to find that they were slick with blood. Why had he written these words? Did some part of him feel remorse for causing Krayn's death? No, that wasn't it. Was it then the fact that he had put the finger prints of a certain political activist all over the knife? Or that he had snuck into the activist's home and planted small traces of Krayn's blood on a jacket?No, none of those. He had just crushed the last bit of innocence in Syn beneath an uncaring heel, and it plagued him. Would she be better off not knowing the truth? Would it be okay for her to just live a normal life? Ryan's hands shook visibly. No. A dark vapor wrapped itself around his heart, walling himself off from feeling. His body became cold and his look distant. This had been necessary. Time would make it clear.

When Mydnyte finally came out of her faint she found herself lying on the couch. Early morning sunshine streamed through an open window and the familiar sounds of Coronet traffic could be heard outside. Perhaps the normality of the sounds gave her comfort, after what she had endured. But as her eyes came fully open she found not a trace of that horrible nightmare. Maybe she hoped it was a dream. Maybe she hoped not. She had just ended a deadly parasite that needed extermination, but who knew if she thought of it that way. The carpet floor was... perfect. And... was that nerf sausage she smelled? She glanced toward the kitchen and found Ryan Korr- cooking.

Ryan looked over at her as he began to crack eggs. "Well, look who's awake!" He smiled. "How would you like your eggs? Scrambled, fried, or corellian omelette?"
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-09-30 20:55

The laughter came from men. She could tell by the deep tones. Females, at least human ones, rarely had such deep voices though it was not unheard of. But she was never used to entertain female clients. Only male clients. Krayn sometimes stayed to watch from the shadows. Dressed as the galaxy's finest porcelain doll, Mydnyte was first made to drink until she could barely feel her legs. Then she was fed the illicit drugs. Of course, Krayn would either spike her first drink or boldly inject her before ushering the living doll out to entertain his guests. It was always something that would relax her, make her more receptive to doing whatever it was they all desired.

The images were hazy. Some of the faces zoomed in, showing the dreaming woman clear close-ups of some of the men who had her and enjoyed participating in her torment and abuse. The other faces were blurred out as if they'd been erased or simply no longer existed. Somewhere in that crowd, amongst the loud music and the ménage à trois going on in the parlor, her mother lingered. Mydnyte could sense her presence. She swam through the crowd, following the invisible lines drawn by invisible hands, leading her deeper and deeper into the ....

Everything changed. Now she was standing aboard a ship that belonged to a man whom she never met before in her life. But she could hear him. He was apologizing for not knowing she had been born. He apologized for not being able to rescue her sooner. He kept saying he was her father and that he loved her. The woman didn't know if she believed the man or not. She didn't put it past Krayn to sell her to the highest bidder. After all, Krayn coveted power and money above all else, including human life.

There was Stefan! Oh, Stefan! Introduced as her younger brother, Syn and Stefan's bond fused almost immediately. They took care of each other even after the man claiming to be Syn's father passed away. But Stefan was ill. Syn did what she could in hopes of saving his life, but in the end, it was pointless. Stefan died anyway.

Then there were skeletal fingers reaching out for her from all directions. In front of, behind, above and below, they reached. Ghostly moans and groans that she supposed would have been words if the bones had muscles and ligaments in which to form coherent speech, filled her ears, coming from all directions. They rose into a great cacophony that was almost unbearable to listen to.

She spun around, hands over her ears, and opened her mouth to scream for it all to shut up, to stop and leave her alone. But nothing came out. As Syn saw herself turning in place, crying and unable to scream, she also saw Ryan's face come into view. It shocked her so that she immediately tuned out all of the noise and focused solely on him, on finding him. He was ... there! Suddenly Ryan was there, right in front of her. She could feel his hands cupping her face. She could feel the cold, softness of his lips pressing against hers. She could see the malevolent void in his cold, calculating eyes.

As soon as that kiss was broken, Ryan let go of her face and stepped back once. The next thing Mydnyte knew she was falling backward into a pit that seemed bottomless. Terribly afraid, she tried to scream but still nothing came out. Her arms flailed, extended from her sides. Her legs kicked. She never hit the bottom, though. She was saved just in the nick of time by a hand that reached into that pit, reached in an grabbed a hold of hers and pulled her out.

It was Ryan's hand. In a flash, Mydnyte felt both incredible love for this man and incredible fear. Those two emotions seemed interconnected, to go hand-in-hand where Ryan was concerned in her life. It was as if the man were a God to her. An all-powerful being that deserved to be loved and feared, who commanded nothing less of His Disciples. To go against Him would only result in death. Painful, long-suffering. To go with Him would earn his Love. He would rule His kingdom with an iron fist and all those He allowed to enter would bow unto Him, swear their fealty for Him, and be afforded the protection of his dark shadow.

His Realm was Chaos.

His Queen was Mayhem.


Mydnyte felt warmth upon her right cheek. All along the right side of her body, in fact. "Mmm," she murmured while coming more awake from the deep sleep she'd been in. If that sleep had been fitful she wouldn't have known. She was feeling more alive, more invigorated the more she came to. Syn heard the sounds of traffic filtering in through an open front window and she smelled ... breakfast?

Vibrant blue eyes fluttered open and Mydnyte laid there on the couch for a moment or two more. It is breakfast. But who ..? Then some memories suddenly crashed to the forefront of her mind and the woman bolted upright on the couch, looking around. But ... there's no blood. And where's the body? Syn turned her head to look toward the kitchen. There was Ryan. He was ... cooking?

"Well, look who's awake! How would you like your eggs? Scrambled, fried, or Corellian omelet?" He asked with a smile while cracking some eggs.

Mydnyte sat there looking at the man as if he spoke a foreign language and she didn't understand one word he had said. "Uh-h. How-however you're ... having ... yours." Slender, dark brows knit deeply, wrinkling her forehead as she looked to the walls, the ceiling, and to the floor. There were no traces of blood anywhere. Perhaps it was all just a dream. One, horrible nightmare.

When she looked back to the kitchen, Ryan was truly still there. He was still smiling, even started to whistle a little, and continued whipping up some breakfast and it smelled wonderful. Did we do it? She tried to think back to last night, if they'd had anything to drink. She didn't think they'd drank. God, if we did it and I don't remember it...!? Look at him! He's an Adonis! How could I not remember doing it with him!? But now she couldn't even remember when Ryan came over, what time it had been when he arrived.

Chalking it all up to just the after effects of a really long, bad day at work, Mydnyte stood from the couch and stretched languidly. Oh that felt so good! "You're rather chipper this morning. Did you kill a small child or something?" She asked, jest clear in her voice as she shuffled to the kitchen. "Anything I can do to help?" She asked, seeing that he'd already gotten a couple of plates out, had some juice poured, and seemed to have everything under control.

"I had the weirdest dream, Ryan. I was in this room full of blurred faces and there was this one ..." Mydnyte trailed off and left her words hanging in the air. "Anyway, I dreamt that there was blood all over the living room," she continued, lifting her right hand to rub an itch on her right eye.

As she pulled her hand away from her face, though, she saw the blood dried on her hands, caked beneath her fingernails. Her fingers, her hands, her entire body started to shake and slowly, without thought, she walked to the main floor bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair had stiffened in a few areas that were now dried with blood. Her face was still a horrible mess. She could see where Ryan's thumb swiped her tears from her cheek, see the trail her tears left down her face, their passage marked clearly amidst the dried crimson.

Ryan! Oh my god, what have I done? What have I DONE? Oh my god. Oh my god. I-I-I've got to get this off of me! Get it off of me. Get. It. Off. Of. ME!" Mydnyte turned on the hot water. It wasn't long before steam was rising from the sink and she was burning her hands as she washed, scratched, and scraped the blood off of her flesh and out from beneath her fingernails.

As she washed her hands, she continued muttering incoherently under her shaky breath. Mydnyte glanced down at her clothes and saw that they, too, were ruined and stained with blood. Forgetting that Ryan was even in her kitchen, she stripped herself naked and kicked the discarded clothes into the hall, then turned and activated the shower. This too ran until there were thick clouds of steam roiling up from within the glassed-in stall.

When she entered, Mydnyte didn't even notice how hot the water truly was. Her skin turned red like a lobster in a matter of seconds. She ignored it, though. Soaping up a thick Corellian Sea sponge until the lather covered the entire thing, Syn ran it over her body repeatedly. The water ran red. Mydnyte did this until it felt as if she were going to scrape several layers of her own skin right off. Then she washed her hair at least seven times. It didn't matter that twice was enough. She still felt dirty even after all of that.

Soon her legs gave out and she collapsed to the bottom of the shower stall, overcome with fear, remorse, and tears. She pulled herself into a corner and drew her legs up, hugging them tight to her body. The water still ran and the heat was beginning to taper off. Soon it would be as cold as ice. It wasn't until the water began to run as cold as ice that Mydnyte moved an inch. She looked at the scars that ran between her fingers, between her toes, along the entire length of the inside of her arms.

Needle tracks.

Each scar told a story and she remembered each one. She didn't notice the goosebumps dimpling her arms and legs, breaking out across her back and torso. She was too busy running the tip of an index finger along the set of tracks discoloring the inside of her left arm. She stood, finally. But that wasn't without help. Ryan had come in and he stood there just inside the doorway, waiting for the woman to collapse.

He knew there would come a point when she would cease to cry. He knew there would come a point where she would cease to shake. He needed to wait for those two things to occur before he could gently helped her up. He was patient. When the time came, he grabbed a large towel and slid open the shower door. He reached down and took Mydnyte gently but firmly by the arm and coaxed her to her feet. Ryan wrapped the towel around her and, taking her by the hand, helped her out of the shower. He sat her down on a small vanity bench and dried her off a bit. "Get dressed. Join me for breakfast."

Mydnyte watched the man leave. She sat there for a little bit longer. Her mind shut down and her body went numb. Now she was functioning on auto-pilot as she stood, went upstairs to her bedroom, and dressed. Ryan re-warmed her food and when she came back down, she looked a bit better. Her hair was still damp, but she'd tossed on a little bit of make-up and wore a simple outfit of black pants, ankle boots, and a white sweater. Mydnyte sat down at the table, looked at the food, then to Ryan. She hoped he had some words of wisdom for her, advice. She hoped he wouldn't see her as a hideous monster and walk out the door. She hoped she could count on him to keep her dirty little secret. Or perhaps she was seeking a salvation that would never come.

Whatever it was - it didn't agree with the look in her eyes.

That look was that of a broken soul that had just fit together one piece of the puzzle. It still needed the other pieces to be placed just right, to fit perfectly, before it was whole again. But this was a start. The woman's soul had a taste of its dark peace and it was whispering that it wanted another taste.

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-10-21 04:39

Ryan cooly sipped his tea as he read the morning news on a datapad. Good news? Not much, was there ever? Though... perhaps no news of Krayn was good news. Couldn't be too long before someone found a dead body lying in an alley. Dead body, what dead body? No, Ryan hadn't killed anybody. He hadn't seen anyone killed either. Nope, no officer, nothing to look at here. Political murder? What's politics? No.... the investigators would never come to Syn's apartment. Why would then when as far as they were concerned the case was clear cut and dried? Ryan would know, he'd made sure it appeared that way.

He stole a glance at Syn over his datapad. She was sitting on a chair, just staring at the omelette in front of her. Ryan took a sip of the tea, it was almost cold. He hadn't touched it while Syn had been gone and he hadn't had the thought to reheat it. His mind had been busy elsewhere. The complete emotional breakdown Syn had suffered hadn't been exactly unexpected. Her brain was effectively being rewired, and the soul... well, best not to speak of that gasping newborn child that writhed in the birth fluids twisted immorality.

It was almost as if he'd found her there, newborn, amidst the rain of the world. In that shower she must've had a rediscovery for when she had come out she was a different person. Ryan couldn't describe how he knew, it was simply... intuitive. His eyes drifted to the window where Corell could be seen, shedding its rays of light upon the city of Coronet. But Korr felt that there was something dark behind this rising sun. A storm was brewing, and when it broke it all would be plunged into eternal night.

"The sun rises," Ryan said simply. "And with it comes a new day. But never a fresh start," he turned to Syn, green eyes glinting dangerously. "The galaxy is not kind enough to provide a fresh start, and only fools think they can push a button and be given a clean slate by society. Whatever has happened... just happened, and no one will forget. Least of all you. But trust me, there is a peace after this. Together, we can find it. And when you're ready to talk... we'll talk."

Ryan's gaze was hard, yet there might've been the slightest hint of... sympathy? No, nothing like that could come from this man. It was a crude form of pity for this life that had been snatched from a daydream. That was all her 'normal' life was, just a daydream. Normality, how Ryan hated the word. Yes, it was pity with which he looked upon her.

"You shouldn't have ever tasted normality. You're not like them... you were just a case of arrested development," he muttered aloud. His thoughts turned inward, almost reassuring himself of their truth. "Now you see, the police? They're fiction. They don't exist. Only the 'normal' criminals are worried about escaping their clutches. The rest of us? We're not criminals, we're the saviors of our race. We look higher than just ourselves..."
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-10-22 07:42

As soon as Ryan spoke of the sun rising, Mydnyte lifted her eyes from the now cool food in front of her and turned them to Ryan. She listened without emotion, without expression. The woman just sat there looking at the man, hearing his words but making no sound or movement to acknowledge anything he had said.

When Ryan finished speaking, Syn let a silent pall fall over the room. Her eyes sideglanced to the sunbeams filtering in through the sheer curtains hanging in front of the floor-to-ceiling bay window in the livingroom. She watched as miniscule bits of dust floated lazily in the air, visible only when passing through those beams of warm golden light.

Mechanically the lady rose from her seat and walked away, across the living room to stand before that beatiful window. She watched life continue live as it passed by on the walk outside or zoomed past in the street. If anyone were to glance up, they wouldn't notice her standing just out of reach of those sunbeams. Syn remained in the shade as if that light would burn her skin and set her soul ablaze.

With her back toward Ryan, Syn stood there near the window, and finally spoke. "Do you want to know what frightens me the most," she paused a moment, then corrected. "... well, the second most, about what I've done?" Though Mydnyte knew Ryan was listening as well as looking to where she stood, she paused anyway. It was more for her than it was for giving the man a chance to respond. "What scares me, Ryan, is the fact that I was capable of it at all."

She fell silent for a minute or two. "Is there peace in this madness, Ryan? I have so much anger, so much pain inside that has been bottled up for years..." The lady shook her head, rubbing her forehead firmly with her fingertips as she closed her eyes for a minute. "I fear what I have been, I fear what I will become." Those last words kind of struck her as ... Mydnyte turned and looked at Ryan now. "What will I become?"

She looked around but didn't truly see the decor. It was just an automatic move brought on by a mind that needed to slowly come back. "I think ... what I fear most? Aside from you walking out of my life forever?" Syn bit her lower lip as tears shimmered in her eyes. "I liked what I felt. I liked feeling in control. I liked feeling that knife slide so easily into that Gamorrean pig's bloated body and I liked knowing that I was hurting him just as badly as he had hurt me."

The shimmering tears fell freely down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away with two quick swipes of her fingertips across her flesh. "I don't know what to do now. Do I go to work and pretend that life is just grand and go about my normal routine? Do I flee the planet and start over on some backwater world where no one can find me? Do I turn myself in? What? Tell me, please, Ryan. What is wrong with me?"

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-11-07 17:21

"Wrong with you?"Ryan snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in his chair. She still didn't understand. How could she not understand? "Nothing is wrong with you. What you should be asking is 'what is right with me?' You just ended the life of a man who didn't deserve another breath."

Ryan's eyes seemed to burn with the flames of fanaticism. They were both the eyes of a madman and those of a visionary. Seeing and yet not seeing. There was that pull, that awful stygian magnetism in his eyes and all who looked knew it was wrong, but somehow he made it seem right.

It was wrong, all wrong. She had been tainted by society, by boundaries. Life should never be hampered by the rules that society placed on it. These 'moral' lines that seemed to permeate every gathering of beings. Did none of them understand how unnatural it was? Nature did not restrict the actions of beings, and yet even wolves were able to live in packs. There was a hierarchy in society and yes, ethics too. But no one seemed to understand them. Or if they did they chose to ignore the true laws of chaotic harmony.

"Syn, it is in our nature to like feeling in control, to like that feeling of revenge. It is the cosmos of our beings to feel this way. I know it sounds a little crazy, but there is nothing wrong with it. Does nature upend itself when the snake turns on its predator and kills it? No. Why should we cry when justice visits people like Krayn who deserve it, in whatever form it takes?" Ryan's thoughts turned dark in his knowing that even society itself was an illusion created by those who sought to uphold the highest law of nature, self preservation. People didn't want to cooperate... they just wanted to survive. If they could cooperate enough to survive then they will do so, but everyone wanted power in the end and who knew who they would destroy in an effort to reach that power?

Korr's magnetic stare still held Syn's eyes, "You're only becoming what you were meant to be. Why should these politicians sit on their high thrones while the rest of slave away at normality? We're better than they are, more gifted."

"Now, you've just killed someone who deserved it. What do you do?" Ryan's mouth twitched with some foreign emotion. Amusement, disgust, it could've been anything really. It was so hard to tell when his eyes were conveying so much dark, lighted fervor. "That's up to you Syn. You could give in and run, or confess. Or you could pretend like nothing happened and continue the cycle of normal life. There's a third option, the one I took. I wandered the galaxy doing a little bit of everything. But I doubt you'd prefer it. Honestly, it's not my decision to make, but I do think that you should stay on Coronet."
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-11-19 22:05

It wasn't in Mydnyte's nature to interrupt someone when they were talking unless there was urgency in a matter or immediate danger. Then all manners could be tossed out the window. But right now, Ryan was teaching her, shaping her. Her subconscious mind knew it, but on the surface she was struggling to grasp the reality of the situation she had just plunged herself into during the last twenty-four hours.

"I just killed a man, Ryan. I agree with you that he didn't deserve to live. But who am I to decide his final judgement? What right did I have to take his li --" Mydnyte said quietly once Ryan finished speaking. Of course, that last inquiry was left to hang where she cut it off in mid air. She already knew what Ryan would say in response to asking what right she had in ending the life of the man who callously stole her innocence all those years ago. He would tell her that it was only right that it was she who ended his pathetic life in light of what he'd done to her. She should think of it as coming full circle with the retired Senator she killed. He started it, she ended it.

"And you're right, Ryan. It does sound crazy, and more than just a little. I was raised ...well, I was raised in a society that most of the galaxy isn't really privy to. Surrounded by power, money, greed, disgusting fetishes and some of the darkest desires you could imagine. I can't even use being raised properly as an argument here because I wasn't raised traditionally." Most that little side argument was spoken rapidly in a hushed breath from the point she realized it would have been an invalid example to use.

Mydnyte was going to tell Ryan her thoughts on the question he posed to prove his point, of the snake turning the tables and killing its predator instead of becoming a meal. Of course no one would weep if they saw that happen. The argument would be that the snake was merely acting in self-defense in the name of self-preservation. As she worked that argument out in her head, she realized that Ryan was right. Again. He could rebuke by pointing out that she, too, had only acted in self-defense, self-preservation. Therefore, Mydnyte had not acted in a way that was against nature but was in fact ... perfectly natural.

Mydnyte steepled her fingertips and pressed them lightly to her chin and lower lip as she walked over to the couch, then around it. Instead of taking her seat at the kitchen table again, she leaned back against the back of the couch. "What is it that I'm meant to be?" She finally asked, almost fearfully. "Because growing up, the words "I want to be a murderer" never came from my lips. I wanted what all little girls want: A husband who loves them, two children - a boy and a girl, and a happy home."

Mydnyte's entire world shattered overnight. Everything she thought was turned upside down. Now she had to carefully fit the pieces together again, but this time ... this time they'd be arranged differently. There was no going back now. Letting her hands fall to her thighs as she met Ryan's powerful and dark stare. "I never thought I was better than anyone else, Ryan. What makes you think that I am?" For the time being, at least, she had calmed down. Which was a good thing. Her way of thinking was also slowly changing, thanks to Ryan and his skillful use of language and words. "You think I should remain in Coronet? Will you be staying with me or are you running off?"

User avatar
Ryan Korr
Learner
Learner
Posts: 222
Joined: 2009-08-09 20:57
Custom Title: Deceased
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Ryan Korr » 2011-12-14 05:43

Ryan watched Syn, as if observing a flighty bird. His chose his words warily, lest he scare her off her perch. "It is vengeance, Syn. It is retribution. It is justice in its basest form." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, his face perplexed. "I'm not sure if I can help you understand what I mean. Whatever you think, you're no murderer." He jabbed a finger at the ground where the senator used to lie. "That was not murder, okay? It was basic instinct, a survival killing, alright?" He looked into her face, his eyes seeming full of concern.

Sighing, Ryan stood and carried his empty mug over to the sink, still talking as he went. "I think you're better because I see it in you, Syn. You have an awareness that others don't. You're not some ordinary person living in a blank, boring, empty slate of a galaxy. You have dark fears and old pains, wounds that haven't healed. I know because I'm the same, Syn. And I know that beneath all those hurts there's a side of you so beautiful it will take the breath right out of the galaxy, and no I'm not the same in that regard," he turned around and gave her a playful grin.

He shrugged his shoulders."I don't know how to describe what you're meant to be, Syn. I don't even know exactly what I'm meant to be. It's not something you can put into words. I just know that we're special. The rest of people don't get it, you know? They just want to stay at home and live empty, meaningless lives. But Syn, you and I have a chance to be different," he stared across the kitchen at her, a warm intensity in his gaze. "We can become something more."

Ryan leaned against the countertop, "About Coronet, sure, I think you should stay here, unless you've got any better ideas. I don't know what I'll be doing," a dark glimmer passed through his eyes. "I should be here for a while." A sudden spark of recognition passed through him. "Oh, you mean-" he clenched his jaw. "...I don't think I should. There are a lot of people who want me dead, Syn. Staying with you wouldn't be safe... for you."

In his mind, he ticked away the plays he had made on her emotions. Reassure her of what she'd done, check. Establish emotional similarity to foster trust, check. Make self-demeaning remark to make her think better of him, check. Use words of hope and inspiration for her future, check. Make himself seem vulnerable to her, check. Make himself seem to even care, check. Inside of him, something dark chuckled softly at the game he played. How could he help himself? It was his impulse. Life was a giant playground. And love was just a set of swings for him to ride on. Back and forth, back and forth. He loved her, he didn't love her. Loved, didn't. Hated, adored. Admired, aspired? The dark something chuckled within him again and he reveled in the moment.

Outer-Ryan, fake-Ryan, maintained a sad smile throughout the dark reveling of his true being. Nothing in his face belied the man within, not even the eyes. It was as if he could express the stamp of an emotion. A picture of it, no, a reflection. It was there, but it was not the same. It had all the characteristics of the original, but when you reached out a hand to touch it it vanished. Unsubstantial feelings in a man whose moral compass was so kriffed up it was a wonder he could even make it out of the door in the mornings. But buried beneath everything... was there true emotion? Was there any true feeling at all? Was Ryan just a man void of all empathy, or was his soul so ravaged and torn that if he exposed it to another human being it would turn him into such a sobbing, grief-racked figure that would break even stoniest of hearts?

Ryan's smile faltered.
Image

User avatar
Mydnyte Syn
Freelancer
Posts: 79
Joined: 2011-06-30 01:18
Custom Title: Mistress of Mayhem. Chaos is my Love.
Contact:

Re: Flight of the Damned pt II (Heart of Darkness)

Post by Mydnyte Syn » 2011-12-15 01:05

Mydnyte wasn't as cold and calculating as Ryan. At least not yet. One day she very well may be. But for now, she was simply a woman who wore her emotions on her sleeve. Her feelings for Ryan didn't teeter or wane. She did love him and she could honestly say that she loved him very much. It only grew as they spent more time together. Naive? Quite so. Though she is worldly, she is still very much like a child discovering new things. Freedom was something new to her. Unlike Ryan, who was free his entire life, Mydnyte's freedom only came to her eight short years ago. So as Ryan assured her that she had not murdered the Senator, the lady nodded, believing him.

Mydnyte shifted to sit atop of the back of the couch and watched Ryan carry his mug to the sink. The incredible compliment he paid made the woman lower her striking blue eyes and blush a deep hue of salmon. It made her heart feel all tingly and her face warm. Ryan's playful smile was infectious, for it made Syn's smile grow a little more prominent as well. Daringly, some teeth even began to show through the smile as Ryan convinced her that the two of them could become something more.

But that smile slowly disappeared and her expression may have fallen some when Ryan had said he wouldn't be staying with her. As he explained that it was for her own safety, Mydnyte looked to a thread she'd been idly plucking at the seam of the couch cushion. She sighed heavily and nodded, then swallowed a dry swallow. "What -" The word barely came out, it was spoken so softly. Syn cleared her throat as if it were just a Corellian tree frog that had gotten caught in her throat. She meant to begin her question again but didn't. She saw Ryan's smile waver and that was what had stopped her.

Her heart felt funny. She was scared. Mydnyte knew what she wanted to ask. She just wasn't sure she was ready for the response. A tiny, quiet voice in the back of her mind told her she had to pretend that everything was okay or she'd lose him. Was that fear talking? She didn't know. So she put on that patrician smile mastered long ago and nodded, pretending she's okay with everything. "What now? Ryan?" She stood and looked to the tall, dark, and handsome drink of water standing in her kitchen. "Thank you," she said very quietly, her voice a little shaky. "I couldn't get through this without you."

Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest