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1 A Wall Between Comfort [Yoren/No-Kill] on Tue Jun 27, 2017 8:39 am

Emiko

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Genin
The institute was... how to describe it, cold. The hallways, the floors, the ceilings and lights. There was no comfort to a single element of it. It was... grey, or maybe it was Emiko's outlook of it that gave it a bleak tint to the otherwise colorless and void elements to everything. That was outside of her own room though. Emiko's cell was... void, it had a bed with an old thin mattress and some worn out sheets that smelled of the age of the room and time gone on. So few times they ever gave the 'patients' new things to use, it was the last thing on their minds most of the time. The floor was nice and smooth, like a single giant tile but made of many smaller ones; the floor was so leveled and fell down at the center, angling towards a single drain at the center of the room. Despite all the clean cut of it all, it was dirty... bits of hair and dirt left around and clinging to the surfaces scattered about in the grains of cement between each tile. The worst of it was the small tinge and residue of blood that changed the color of the tile ever so slowly, much worse around the drain, it just felt disgusting to the eyes.

The walls were cracked and warped, seeming miscolored over time from water damage and the likes that ruined the cement walling itself. Drywall too soft and not entrapping enough for their subjects, and the ceiling was in as bad a position with cracks that ran across its surface like it would collapse at any time. A few bad attempts at re-cementing the various surfaces only further gave it an ugly appearance. A single lamp at the top of the room shone in the artificial light and gave a headache from being exposed to it for even a short time. Even worse, there was no switch for Emiko to control it, it was on when it was on and only off at night for a short time to allow them just a few hours of decent sleep.

Emiko's bed was made of a singular steel frame that gave the twin bed the feel of a prison, no mirror in the room as broken glass was too easy to weaponize and the only other thing was a pile of clothes to change from, the patients uniform in duplicate. Another thicker blanket to change with the thinner blanket if it got too cold was also folded in the corner, still as ragged as Emiko could imagine. The only real luxury she was afforded besides a rare change up in meals on seemingly random days. There was nothing else, no clock to tell time, nothing to read or keep her busy with but there was one thing though. A crack on the floor that opened up on the back wall of her cell, leading to another cell behind her. That's where Yoren's voice was, whoever he was that existed on the other side of the wall so often, it had been quiet for a while.

The guards had brought a plate of food to Emiko not too long ago, she couldn't tell how long ago, but the mush that was like... applesauce? But with more meat taste, it had gotten cold. She had finished off the roll and dug into the vegetables but she lay there and couldn't find the appetite for the rest of it. Things had been quiet as her head laid against the cold hard ground for a moment, her mind wandering about nothing, not even the memories of her past childhood and the places she had known before.

The steel door that served as the only decoration of her room had a few taps against it. Loud and echoing, the guard probably banging using the stick they would occasionally hit her with to knock before pressing against the small metal slit that was like a letter box before yelling out. "Time's up. Put the plate back through so the doctor can come in."

Emiko blinked, her heart raced as she glanced at it, her palms had instantly become sweaty and her breathing labored. "But I'm not done yet?" her words were short and she became to crawl upwards.

"It doesn't f*cking matter. Hurry up. We have other things to do than stand her all day waiting on you!" the guard shouted, his voice echoed and distorted, his face not visible from the small window of bars high on the door.

"But I'm.."

"If we have to come in there, I swear to all that is!" his rant continued on with colorful language of the force they'd have to use against her. No choice as she was a dangerous inmate, the verbal torment ran on for several seconds before Emiko gave up, grabbing the metal tray and crawling quickly to the door before shoving it through the slot and pushing it out of the room with force. The tray closed suddenly and the guard could be heard to be cursing under his breath, the mushed substance probably spilled and splashed out everywhere on the ground at their feet.

"Look at what you did, you brat! Fine!" the clanging of the door began as the handle was grabbed upon. It thudded in echo like a loud metal door slamming shut and reverberated through Emiko's mind. She crawled back to the corner of the room and curled up, tucking her head down to look away as she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. Cowering for a moment, she heard the boot steps of three people enter and keys tingling at their waists. Their footsteps were heavy so they were probably men, stopping just in front of her in silence for a brief moment.

Then came a labored grunt, the first obviously raised his hand high over his head and the wooshing of air came down in contact. Emiko would yell out, the baton would leave welts no doubt, but she cowered under every hit, her body shaking in pain against it with every motion, the others joining in after the first blow. It felt like eternity, it was only enough for her to feel it though, to be disciplined into respect. But it still felt like it lasted forever, but in reality it wasn't even a minute. What added more was the guards verbal harassment to it all, striking at her very core, punishing her mind as much as her body. But over each hit and the pain, she really hardly heard it, but she knew what they were saying. Her deafness was a self-inflicted attempt to block it out but she failed so miserably at it, seemed to always fail at it.

After it was all done, the door closed heavily and the guards disappeared, sound left the room outside her own. She sat there for a while after, another eternity passed as every mark throbbed in pain, she was whimpering around in that corner still, losing grip on her legs she just laid as a mess in the corner. There was some blood, it spilled in a few places and her clean skin had been tattered for so long but the new welts and bruises contrasted so well against her soft features and light colored skin and hair. The time passed on, the door had closed and the yelling of the guards and their torment faded from her mind and only the pain lingered behind.

Eventually the door clanged again, Emiko's body jumped in her sobs as she tried to control it, a man walked in with his doctor's uniform on. Pushing along a table too high for Emiko to see what was on it, but she had an idea. She had been in this place too long to not understand. Behind her were two guards with their batons put away, wheeling a table with them, the soft cushion torn and the restraints to the side obvious. Emiko's eyes would water up, she just wanted to be left alone right now, the doctor smirked as the pain grew further across her face, the despair in her eyes. He spoke in a sadistic voice that tormented her with every syllable that lingered from his mouth, "Now now dear. There's no reason to be upset, we're going to... help you." The inflection on that word would cause anyone's skin to crawl as a rather grueling and even more uncomfortable smile grew on his face.

Emiko turned, the panic grew in her as she crawled further back to the wall, digging into the corner but there was no where to go. Her eyes had begun to close, the doctor sighed as she began to speak out in little words, mumbled and chaotic like she was begging them no.

"Guards." he spoke up and they stepped forwards as the doctor pushed his metal tray table to the side and began to pull the restraint bed forward. The guards grabbed her by each arm and pulled her up, their grip was tight and they each seemed to find a new welt of hers, the pain of it. She struggled, swayed and kicked around, thrashing about against it while yelling more. They carried her in the air by her arms to the bed and threw her into it, holding her down against it and removing the comfort as they began to strap her down. The doctor approached her side and began to speak again, "Now, this won't last long so just relax and try to enjoy it, ok?" he chuckled as she felt a pinch against the tissue of her neck.

She looked down towards it as he pulled it out, a long syringe and her body relaxed against her will, her eyes began to fade as she began to slip from consciousness. Her screams started to fade, as the realization that she was drugged kicked in, she hadn't heard any sound in a while. All that was in her mind was wanting to crawl away and towards the wall. No, through it. To find Yoren on the other side, wondering where he was and hoping for that small bit of comfort. The entire time she was fading, the guards quickly finished tying her down and the doctor ranted on about the hallucinogenic nature of the drug she was on. Reassurance saved her nothing, the last thing she remembered before the brief moment of darkness was his muffled voice behind the surgeon's mask and a scalpel in his hand, the light shimmering off its tip for a brief moment. Then she was unconscious.

Her dream was not a dream, hallucinogenic did not describe it as she felt these thoughts weren't her own. It was no dream, there was no psychadelic nature to what she was experiencing. It was a pure and heartened nightmare, the things she saw of her past in clarity, visions of her future and descending through proverbial and self applied levels of hell. Every moment that passed in her mind was moments of torment for her, but in the end, it distracted her from the pain she felt on her body.

See, it wasn't sleep she was in, nor a coma. She was fully conscious as the doctor cut into her. Her screams filling the room, blood curdling and shocking in nature, and combined with her new visions, she couldn't stand it. It was exceeding her threshold, her mind tearing itself apart at the expense of her body. The truth that one pain can overshadow another and prevent a person from feeling it was true, at least here. As the mental scarring she was enduring built up far more than the physical scarring. And worst yet, she was conscious without control of her thought, she couldn't pass out from the pain, the level of sleep or coma blocked by the drug as she was passively there. No level deeper for her to escape to. This continued on for truly an eternity, the screams from both pains built into her voice.

Eventually, it ended... she found that darkness, only a god knowing how long she'd endured it but no god would have any respect for what they had done to her. It was a lifetime in pain and another lifetime in just mental pain. Emiko woke up fully sweating, her body racked and shaking visibly, the pain wouldn't stop. Her beating from the guards was nothing but she was on her bed again, head rested against her pillow and looking up. She rotated and tried to stand but felt the pain in her side spike up rapidly, she fell to the ground immediately and looked to the wall as her fingertips brushed across her stomach.

Her eyes came to meet the crack in the wall and the hole at the bottom, she couldn't see through it at all, just dark as it was too thick and the rubble blocked it. Her fingers found a new scar, her head fell down to look at a scar that ran several inches across her stomach just in front of her kidney. The stitches were new and there was some blood. Pain radiated from it and tears welled up in her eyes as she wondered what they did to her. She didn't feel like anything was missing or added, maybe they just inspected something? It took forever, but she wanted to cry out at them and ask what they'd done. She knew it was futile as she'd taken that path so many times before and gained nothing from it. Eventually, her cuts would seal up and the bruises would fade and the medicine they would force down her throat would keep the scars from lasting more than a short time.

Still, Emiko never got past the despair, even if there were no lingering physical marks, she felt like each one remained forever and there was nothing she could do. Seeing each one on her body no matter how hard she tried to look away from it. Her eyes glanced back to the hole, her body still shaking and her tears and sobs filling the room, she spoke up, hoping to get back a response, anything at all to let her know she wasn't actually alone for the moment. "It won't go away. The pain, it hurts..." her words were broken, quiet, and wracked by her sobs as she laid there, wondering if he would hear her mumbled cry out.


(2465 words)

2 Re: A Wall Between Comfort [Yoren/No-Kill] on Fri Jul 14, 2017 10:30 pm

Yoren

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Genin
‘Lepidoptera…?’ squinting as the word ran silently along his tongue in mid though. ‘Yes…’ “A moth…” The word would spill from his lips in a mumble, what was heard of his voice a simple rasp as his thoughts shifted from the thought to the spoken words. He would slowly lean upwards from the flat of his feet to the balls, raising his already impressive height to a more reasonable level, in an attempt to get a better look at the tiny creature, even past the bright light, yet he knew better than to raise his hand to shield from the light.  A sharp jolt would cause his frame to become rigid for a moment before dropping down, barely time enough to catch himself as he dropped to a knee. His arm would raise, just enough to look at his side, to bear witness to the small charred flesh of his side, the soft flesh just above the hip at his waist, the blackened mark and bloody streaks standing out against his pure alabaster complexion. “Stand.” His dull orbs would flicker to the female before him before slowly having rose to his feet, the one holding the to devise that cause the evident wound still shook, new? Quite possibly so. The threads beneath his flesh would shift causing his skin to rise, visibly writhing before slowly sleeking from the joint of his hip to stroke over the wound as his attention remained on the female before his clad form before slipping it back into his body, knowing the new worker were distressed enough to raise the weapon again at the ready. Why not display a little for the new arrival that which he was there for?

The female would shoot a harsh glance at the fidgety new comer yet would return her attention to the taller, clad form before her. “Tell me, since you broke protocol to look, what type is the annoying cretin?” a test of his memory? His head would dip forwards just a touch speaking without missing a moment, “Lymantria dispar…” The women’s gaze would flicker up to him as he spoke only for their gazes to meet for a moment before her placing the pointed tip of her pen against the centre of his chest. No, she had been trying to distract him, this even a simpleton could see but what he failed to see where why she would need to. “Straighten up and continue.” A smirk would grace his lips, tugging the right corner up to crease the stitched flesh, the ripple an odd sight for those that were not used to this male. His head would raise yet his gaze would for a moment remain on the female before straying to the moth once more as the sound of little tapping and crackling sounds filled his ears each and every time the creature touched the light, the creature causing his brow to crease as he continued to speak as the female and the others bar the new worker continued to get their equipment ready, “Lymantria dispar, It’s common name ‘The Gypsy Moth.’ A female by her colourations, or rather lack of colour. The name Lymantria dispar can be cut down into two parts…” His voice for a moment would fade as his dull orbs sort out the creature’s way in and its possible exit as the sound of its self-wounding increased ‘Why do they do that?... all of them… is this a racial flaw?’ His mind would wonder to question the creature’s habits. His attention only being drew back again to the female at the sound of her clearing her throat for him to continue, “Yes… two parts, Lymantria means ‘Destroyer’ and dispar means ‘to separate.’

The females pen would shift to rest under the male’s wrist with the indication to raise his arm, the female trying to remain calm and as business like as possible, however his attention would again drift off to the tapping and crackling sound of the moth touching the light source, just barely taking note of the commands given as multiple hands scoured his lean body, so used to the routine checks by now even standing clad seemed to bare no discomfort before others. His body seemed to work from simply muscle memory shifting as needed, raising his arms and spreading his legs as they took their time measuring, recording his muscle mass and speaking with one another, along with the reflex of the twitch, whilst his attention remained with the small moth. Only when the doctor’s assistant touched his stomach would his attention return to her as his stomach flinched from the touch causing the muscle beneath the skin to tense and relax at a quick pace, his threads dancing beneath the flesh as a direct result, “Your still sensitive I see.” A smirk would briefly curl her lips upwards as she glanced up at the male making sure he would see the smirk, his only reaction a simply sweet smile in return.

Returning to her job at hand her brow would crease as she sighed giving a prod from her pen to force his pectoral area to tense or her as she spoke up, “You’re not symmetrical.” Though his features held an innocence like that of a child, his raspy voice would in no way hold such a note as he retorted, “Neither are you.” His head would slowly begin to tilt down to look at her, an internal smirk riding his voice in the process. Though the playful nature he wore were short lived as the crackle sound of the moth once more drawing his gaze away again, allowing the prodding and poking of the examination to continue for a short while longer only to find the hands slowly one by one withdraw from his frame.

What he himself hadn’t realised were that as the agitation at the sound of the self-wounding creature causing the thread within him to writhe as though a natural reaction. If one were to cast a gaze about the workers around him, on edge would be a nice way to put their positions. His gaze however was busy enough seeking out the open window finding a simple small crack and hold in a window, the sauce of the gentle breeze that rose the goose bumps along the nude alabaster flesh that covered his frame. Finding the hole would cause his frame to shiver before turning his gaze back to the female temporarily in charge. “Mrs Mayistu… May I let it out please… the sound…it” she would however cut his sentence short, “No.” her words simple and sharp, only for another voice to sound. “Can you reach the creature?”  How very unperceptive of him and the surrounding people, the only time that any could have entered with such ease may well have been when this male were wounded for tiptoeing.  The smile would return to his lips, this male’s demeanour a meare child in the presents of the new female, “I believe so.”  His gaze would shift to the women and her escorts of guards, his posture would straighten off correctly again, as though standing to attention for her. The women would nod to one of the escorts, the action causing her long raven black bangs to bounce against her busom and shoulders whilst trailing down to the lower section of her back. A tall beauty to say the least. The escort would pick a set of baggy white shorts from the table before reaching to hand them over to him, withdrawing again to the women’s side as Yoren took them, a “Thank you” escaping his lips in the process as he clambered into them, the sound of his bare feet pattering against the cold tiles that made up the surface of the ground the stood. “Now you have your modesty, you may attempt to let the creature out.” He would nod before turning away allowing his head to tilt back shifting o the balls of his feet once again as he squinted watching the creature before darting his gaze about in an attempt to gage the height of the light away from him. Even tiptoeing he would need between nine and eleven feet before being able to reach for the creature. He would pause for a moment only to hear the females voice once again “Well? … What are you waiting for, we have work to continue… and no, you may not climb nor touch the walls for assistance. You said you could reach.” A more determined expression would fight its way along his features as he deduced the easiest way to reach the creature. His legs would spread shoulder width apart before allowing his blood coloured threads to protrude from the joints of his knees reaching out to the ground to keep his balance as he stretched up onto his tip toes once again. His right arm would out stretch as his left hand strained, forced close to his waist as his fist clenched. The stitched of his right elbow would uncoil detaching his forearm and hand as a multitude of the thick blood red threads forced it to travel upwards towards the artificial light though coming up just a tad short. Finer red thread would seep from the joint of his wrist extending after the creature before curling around it like a small balled prison only to retract it to his palm closing his grip around it, hard. The workers would watch some their mouths agape as the newest of their little group shook, gripping tightly to the weapon previously used as they watched the sight before them.

The raven-haired female would step from her escorts and past the workers placing one of her hands on Yoren’s shoulder as her other hand moved to the wound on his side, prodding her index and middle fingers into the wound before allowing a subtle green glow to form around them, no fear in her demeanour. Yoren’s arm would slowly reattach keeping his hand tightly closed otherwise becoming still under the women’s touch. Slowly the wound would heal up just enough to leave behind the simple surface wound before removing her hands as she stepped back to the one of the men within her small escort group, such a young man that could easily be mistaken for a relative of hers, supporting the same shade of raven black hair and high cheek bones. The pairs gaze never leaving him as they whispered amongst one another. Yoren would take a moment before slowly lowering to the flat of his feet withdrawing his extended right arm, yet not reattaching his stitching. The threads would curl up away from the ground as he stepped away towards the wall holding the window up high, each worker stepping out of his way in the process, his frame mimicking the same action as before as a small murmur rose in the room, most having expected him to kill the creature. Still clutching the imprisoned moth, he would compare the safety size of the ball prison of thread against the hole yet coming up short. He would close his eyes before closing his fingers around the ball again, ensuring its protection before slowly pushing his fingers through the small hole in the window allowing the glass to tear up the flesh on its way past before allowing the threaded prison to unravel outside. Holding in place for a moment as the moth remained before fluttering off. ‘It’s night…’ lowering again the threads would retreat back into the confines of his body reattaching his forearm back in the process. Though blood had dripped from the wound at his side no such liquid would spill from the jagged tufts of flesh torn by the glass. He would step back into place drawing his gaze back up to the raven-haired female.  

“Now, since you have damaged your hand, for today our work can focus on that arm alone.”  His hand would raise just a little as his dull gaze cast down to the arm with a flutter in his heart sending a rush of adrenaline through his system. He would need it. Three of the    workers would step up two holding up would could easily be classed as a full body patchwork straight jacket, whilst one stood behind him ready to zip the back up correctly. He would shift leaning down just a touch as he stepped in sliding his arms into the sleeves before standing upright to allow the worker behind to fasten the item closed. The lock reaching right up to the back of his head, covering all of his stitching including the stitches along his face. The straight suit made specifically to fit him as the doctors worked ensuring that his threads wouldn’t be able to lash out in any fashion. Following after the raven-haired female he would settle into the chair he had grown so used to, following each command the women gave, though now being so used to the same routine he would do such just before her words. He would settle in carefully making sure to hold as still as possible as he were strapped down before having his mouth uncovered by the female as she muttered “You won’t be needing that.” Only then for her to remove the lower section of the suits arm before placing the metal tray beneath it, securing it to the chair. Slowly his threads would begin to detach the forearm for the women only to feel the sharp back hand of the women, the force sending his vision blurry as he head whipped off to the side. An easy display of her control as the others within the room flinched back away from the two. Yorens lips would part to speak as a small trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his lips, “I’m sorr…” the sharp look the women gave would cut off his words stopping him in his tracks. “You will be sewing your lips closed for that. And, your arm will for now be staying attached. Don’t bother trying to make my job any harder by healing before your told your aloud.”  

His dull orbs would bore into her for a moment before closing them as the thread from the right side of his face snuck upwards before continuing its pattern along his lips repeatedly damaging them flesh of his lips to sew his lips closed, causing blood to trickle down past his chin, clinching his exposed fist in the process. Not so much the pain yet something else caused a shiver to caress along his spine as his eyes welled. He knew what was to come. A sharp pain would find its way like lightning across his entire body from a small entry point just below his left ear setting off a chin like reaction from multiple points coating his entire covered frame. A cold sweat would instantly break out along his forehead and torso as his frame crackled for a moment. A muffled groan would twist from his stitched up lips in the moment before forcing his dull orbs to close feeling his limbs go slack a quiet sigh would raise from his chest, even an attempt at shifting the threads within his throat were futile. For all this time he had yet to figure out how they were effected so skilfully, yet the raven haired women that now sat before his exposed arm was skilled in many area’s down to being one of the individuals that had worked on his ever since he could remember.

Time would seem to still for a moment as his orbs opened, resting his dull grey gaze on the raven-haired women as she readied herself, slipping into personal protective equipment quite similar to that of a surgeon, as he watched her movements his own would slowly become stiller and stiller until not even a wriggle of his stitched could be perceived not that he as always wouldn’t try. In his now vulnerable state the workers would step about scattering as two began to remove the all in one straight jacket removing it section by section leaving his frame feeling like speckles of fire were crawling his flesh like millions of little bugs, yet his alabaster flesh would never show signs of this sensation. Even though he were now Immobile he continued to feel every little touch, its depth rooting deeply within his senses. One of the workers would attach a strap with little to no padding left over his forehead to keep it from falling to one side as the raven-haired women began her work, an artist with a scalpel. Laying his hand flat with his palm facing up towards the light not even a twitch of a finger could he command and that, were just where she started, a finger.

Pressing the blade of the scalpel down she would break through an old scar, easily splitting the skin from the edge of the palm right up to the very tip of his finger, exposing the thread within, yet no blood would spill for her actions. Like a lump in his throat his air ways would restrict like choking on the familiar shoot of pain causing his flesh to tingle. The hypersensitivity the drug they had administered as already set in. would they this time, let him sleep? Such a hope was a fool’s hope, yet by all accounts for this he was a fool. The scalpels angle would shift to dig up some of the threading as the women spoke yet now to his ears as the white noise set in seemed almost like a crackle hum set aloud in his ears. Though he knew it would be better to close his eyes to the workings of the women, his body would betray him leaving his gaze upon the mess they would make of him. Left in the echoes of his mind and the pain as he seemed to disconnect from the room, his mind would wander back to a time where he was handled with a touch more care, or were that a fragment of his imagination? Only one thing was for sure, these people were all that he had known, the routine the only one he could pry from his mind, this was his life, yet something now felt different, out of place almost. The scalpel would continue its work along the scars of his hand then wrist and forearm tight the way up to the crease of his elbow edging to meet his stitches. And still no blood would spill for them… were they disappointed?

The chair though slow in its movements stretched out until he was laying straight and flat. A tug on his arms stitches would draw his gaze as he watched Mrs Mayistu slowly remove his forearm, her touch somewhat gentler than it had been of late. He knew what this would mean. He would watch as she trailed off with his appendage placing it beside the raven-haired women as she wrote up her notes. For how long he had been there he couldn’t quite tell, yet night had become day through the crack in the window. The finger of his left hand would twitch drawing his attention away from the mess of his right arm as Mrs Mayistu attempted to neatly stick the mess under the careful watch of the elder women. Sliding her chair back over the sharp sting of a needle would go almost un-noticed through the pain he still felt in his detached limb. Something to neutralise the drug that had made him immobile, yet this took far longer than its counterpart. The raven hair women would raise from the desk glancing back at the scene before placing her spectacles against her chest, held around her neck by a pretty silver chain, as she spoke up, evidently tired in the lulls of her tone, “Mayistu, you will finish up here and…” Pausing she would flicker her gaze to the black haired male that were already stepping forwards fighting a grin by the looks of it as she continued “As usual will assist you to take him back to his quarters. I have the preparations to discuss with my husband.” With that she would step away pausing only to mumble something in the ear of the male that had stepped forwards. Whispered new that were passed would twist the males grin to a scowl. The sight wold crease Yoren’s brow as they slowly tilted the chair so that he was standing, thankfully he was still strapped to it as his body slouched against the restraints. With that the raven-haired women would exit with her escort of guards not taking a second glance back into the room as she had used to.

His dull gaze would remain, watching the male as the reven-haired women left only leaving him as Mrs Mayistu returned with his appendage. Just as she were about to work at reattaching the limb the males hand would plat itself atop her shoulder as he spoke up, “He aint gonna be needin’ that. Anyways what’s the point when he’ll only have to fix it himself.” Rhetorical was his statement causing the women to look up at him. She knew what was coming just as much as Yoren himself did. Still holding the limb she would step back as the male stepped up to Yoren, leaving the two to stare one another down, if the two were brothers the action itself would be classed along the lines of a sibling war yet this were not such. The male in all of his intention to strike fear into Yoren, whilst Yoren’s instincts simply made him react. The tension in the room would raise causing a mutter to form amongst the others.  The male’s height a mere five inches smaller than Yoren but it hadn’t always been so, not that he could remember any way, the thought easily causing Yoren’s mind to wonder, when exactly had he grew past the male before him?

“Right let’s get to work, aint gonna be no slacking on my watch.” The broad tone of authority smearing the male words into the air setting it like static as the workers hummed into life at his command. The trolley he was still attached to would shift before cranking to its wheels as three of the workers shifted into place to wheel the trolley along as a blindfold were slipped down over his eyes. each bump in the path easily sending jolts of pain through his system from the stump of his right arm, his thread still very much unresponsive as his motor functions slowly returned to the rest of his form. Thankful for how long the walk had took before they came to a halt followed by a hard-enough hit to the face to reopen the split in his lip that the raven-haired woman had caused. “Release the restraints.” With the males words the restrains would tighten before loosening quickly slipping from around his form, at that moment, too quick for his sluggish body to react in time as his form slumped to the ground, still blindfolded he would slowly begin to push from the cold ground, managing to reach his hand and knees, his right arm shifting as though a ghost of his missing limb remained, only to gain the sharp connection of a boot to his ribs sending him hard against the wall, clipping the trolley in the process. His left arm would raise only to cover and protect his head as he connected to the wall. A grunt would raise from him as the stitches in his lips slowly began to unravel allowing his mouth to open in a pant. His frame would shiver violently as he adjusted to the pain. Removing the blindfold his dull gaze would land of the male, “Get up.”

“His body hasn’t regained its fu…” her words would come up short as Yoren placed his hand against his knee, stumbling to his feet, his gaze never leaving the other male. Speaking up his word only just coming out of a slur, through his panted breaths, “That’s why.” His right arm would fan outwards allowing the stump of a limb to rest against the wall. Just as he rose the raven-haired male would again launch his first in an attack, Yorens arm would raise just enough to take the blunt force of the hit only to receive a heavy blow to his abdomen, doubling him over. His frame would drop against the wall, yet remain standing as his back side rested against the wall followed promptly by another grunt. Shaking his head as though the action would do some good and rid him of the drug quicker, to no avail “It’s your fault I’m being left here in this ses pit! But there still taking scum like you!” the others words coating in anger and venom, yet at first such words made little to no sense. The other wouldn’t bound in again only for Yoren to shift drawing his frame back up allowing his head to connect with the others chin the action sending them both to the ground with Yoren landing atop the other. His right hand would raise like a phantom limb before the realisation set in, yet across the room his right hand would respond its grip a first at the ready in the grips of Mayistu. “Get him the **** off of me” The raven-haired males hips would buck, unsettling him as hands gripping at his arms and shoulders dragging him away leaving him to bot out hard against the other clipping them square in the chest, immediately winding the other. Being force against the wall, hard enough that his chest struggled to raise taking in a breath, having to tilt his head to the side to keep from being fully blinded by the wall.  Why anyone would want to see that which came next would baffle the sane minds of the world.  Attempting to fight against multiple attacks and people whilst still under the effects of a drug along with missing a limb. All’s he could do were attempt to protect himself from the worst of the damage that would be sustained.

The door would creek open before slamming wide open as it took four of the workers to manoeuvre the limp body of Yoren back into his room before tossing his dead weight onto the bed before exiting as quickly as they could. Barely conscious yet his threads had begun to move, licking over the many wounds the body had sustained before lashing about as they sort out the still missing limb. His eye lids would flutter as he attempted to stay awake only to, for a time fall in and out of consciousness.

Rousing he would find himself propped up against the small crack in the wall as a familiar voice reached out, pulling him back to the present time. His hazy dull grey orbs would slowly shift over the padding of the far wall, 'I know that voice…’ A few moments of silence would weigh heavily in the air as his left hand rose, reaching up to cup over the blood matted patch of his hair, though tender his hand wouldn’t bother nor have the chances to flinch back, instead simply causing his eyes to close momentarily. As his hand shifted away to his lips would part to speak yet only a choked sound would seem to rise as more blood shifted from the gurgle in his throat to his mouth, easily spluttering the liquid through the air before him and down his lips and chin, his maw a bloody mess, the deep red contrasting highly against the alabaster flesh. His right arm would immediately shift to cup his right hand over his mouth only finding as the blood dispersed into the air that his limb was still gone, not missing but simply gone. The stump would fall to his side, not even able to rest in his lap as his left hand shifted to feel the damage of his throat, both internal and external. Sighing internally his blood red thread would shift about within his body writhing up against the wounds within his throat leaving the multitude of what could be classed as more important wounds. He did know the voice, yet more so knew the owner of said voice needed his voice, for her, this were but a small thing he could do. His gaze would drift to the crack in the wall between the padding of his room whilst his throat began to heal forcing out a simple word, a name, “Emiko…” the strain in his voice heavy yet his voice was clear and crisp holding a deeper rasp than it usually had as his thread continued to work attempting to fix the damage. Waiting for a response his gaze would mill about the room noticing that the cameras had been covered or broken and the bed rest against the door covering him from view to the outside world… what had he done to his usually neat room?




WC:5085.

3 Re: A Wall Between Comfort [Yoren/No-Kill] on Tue Jul 18, 2017 4:52 am

Emiko

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Genin
Emiko sat in silence for a moment, her arms and legs ached as she reached up to the crack, sticking the pointer finger of her left hand into it gently as she laid on that same arm. Her body felt cold against the floor as her body heat began to warm it, her single digit began to prod and scratch away at the rock of the hole. She did it so often, like she was trying to dig her way out and to somewhere else, small grains of the cement would fall occasionally and on days of great triumph, a chunk of rock even smaller than a pebble might get knocked loose.

Emiko wasn't sure how long she'd been out of it, the panic began to set in as she'd called out and heard nothing initially, every moment that passed was another thought grinding through her mind. The guards taking him away to who knows where, what if for the last time? What if he just didn't want to speak with her? What if she'd done something wrong? Wasn't there for him while she was unconscious, the image of his voice rang through her mind briefly. The panic built, her finger played further into the wall, the soft flesh of it was ground against it, using her nail to claw away and more violently tear at it, but it seemed so futile. Her finger drew out, the edge of her nail had been worn jagged, she was on the verge of drawing blood she'd been scratching at it so intensely but that was fine. A bit more pain, one more scar to add to her collection, her hands that shown of soft and clear skin, just tan enough to not be considered totally pale outright. Or maybe it was just pale and clear enough to not really be a bother about anything, it didn't matter to her. Every time she looked at herself, she didn't see any trait of her own beauty but rather, every scar, every welt, every cut, and every ounce of pain that had ever been inflicted on her.

Years of it built up, inescapable of her mind, every mirror she'd looked in or reflection even on the surface of glass, it was all that she saw. Emiko pulled her head up slowly, lifting her torso to drag her body along the ground, as she pulled the muscle, pain shot through her abdomen and side where the fresh cut was and left a streak of pain running through her. She nearly yelped and fell back down, her eye looking into the hole, a crack of light was best, it was... there was no image to make out still, nothing to see on the other side, why she kept digging away at it.

Her eyes had begun to well up now, she couldn't see through to the other side of the wall, pain ran course through her body, her mind was wandering over every scenario that could be with Yoren, hoping that she hadn't lost another thing she'd gripped to for sanity. It was at the peak of her panic, or near peak that the voice rang out, her name in scraggly call out, it was barely audible but it broke through her panic. She stalled for a second, hesitated as she sniffled heavily and tried to clear out her thoughts and the lump in her throat. But what did she have to say? His voice seemed... a bit off and she withdrew her finger from the crack again and she fell into a small bit of relief with her mind worrying elsewhere.

"Yoren!" The small pitch of excitement in her voice was consistent across the syllables, no uptick and small squeak of excitement. She still didn't know what to say, to ask if he was alright... she'd already started off so vaguely but in that instance the pain in her side didn't bug her. Her body felt relaxed as she laid on the ground and faced towards it, shifting her body to get her head and her ear closer to the hole, in hopes of hearing a little bit more loudly, a little bit more clearly.

Without much pause longer afterwards she would speak up again, "I was worried for a moment." she would sniffle again and relax her head, bringing it down on an arm and waiting for a response, changing the subject and trying to start whatever conversation would pop into her roaming mind. The stamper of boots from past her doorway brought her head to a quick turn but when they passed by her room, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to the wall. Waiting for a response from the voice on the other side of the wall, her only real comfort trapped inside that nightmarish prison.


(3289 words)

4 Re: A Wall Between Comfort [Yoren/No-Kill] on Thu Jul 27, 2017 5:12 am

Yoren

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Genin
Scratching… the sound itself gnawing away and echoing within his mind as he attempted to remain still allowing his threads to work on his throat. She was picking again? Again, as always, the same sound of flesh rubbing against cement, nails breaking and flesh on the verge of tearing. Habit perhaps yet it didn’t stop from churning his stomach, without a way to reach out and stop her there was simply nothing he could do but endure the sound, yet her voice a sound he most definitely preferred. Like a recording he would replay in the back of his mind previous conversations, ones where she didn’t sound so pained only for the echo of her pained voice to override such, forcing an anger he had scarcely known before her voice, to bubble like acid from within the pit of his stomach, drawing the taste of bile into his mouth swelling and mixing with the taste of his own blood like a seething concoction.  Dulled out again by the sound of the scratching and picking at the wall.

His remaining hand would shift to clasp tightly over his mouth as another choked cough found its way from his throat, trying as best he could to stifle the sound as he listened closely for her voice past the deafening sound of the continues picking. His hand would remain cupped over his mouth for a moment longer as thick already clotting blood oozed through his fingers as his cupped hand filled, spilling at its brim. His brow would crease as he tried to swallow back at least some, yet to no avail. His frame would violently shudder causing a hiss to leave him as his hand peeled away from his lips, such an action allowing the thick oozing mess to dribble down the alabaster flesh of his chin, not that at the moment it made all too much of a difference, as globs of the matter strung still connected to his hand. His gaze would fall to the mess as his vision blurred,
‘Am I to fall unconscious again?’ A twinge of pain would shuttle through his chest to his armpit causing him again to wince before looking at his chest, a voice very much his own yet never so rattled silently in his chest, not his mind like an ominous whisper a tug on his consciousness ‘Not yet, not yet… listen…’ His dull orbs would squeeze closed only for the voice on the other side to ring out drawing back the sanity of his riddled mind. ‘Emiko.’

Not only her voice nor the spark of excitement in its smaller tones but the simply euphoric sensation of her saying his name allowed his eyes to close pushing out the pain the wreaked along his wounded body, instead sending a subtle wave of pleasure through him. His soppy hand would drop into his lap allowing the blood to seep into the already sodden fabric of the thin clothing he wore. His head would rest back against the wall as his partial limb shifted as though to rest the phantom limb in his lap. Focusing on healing the damage of his throat his voice would come much like it had before, making sure to be careful not to agitate the throat into another uncomfortable cough, “You needn’t worry, you’re not alone” pausing his brow would again furrow as he thought more clearly on her previous words, the thought forcing another stomach churning, poison like bile to raise in his throat as anger bridged his chest, weighing heavily against it like a concrete slab, “What happened?... Are you alright?” Though a struggle the anger in his voice would be for the most part sufficiently stifled by the concerned note as he layered such on thickly. He would fall silent as he listened closely his mind fixated on her voice, allowing little else to take up any slither of his attention.





WC:5743.

5 Re: A Wall Between Comfort [Yoren/No-Kill] on Wed Sep 13, 2017 6:45 am

Emiko

avatar

Genin
Emiko listened intently while distracting herself from the pain that she felt within her body and outside. It all seemed to fuse together and begin to fade in unison but at the same time, it was what kept her mind pinging around the room. Yoren spoke up, telling her not to worry and that she wasn't alone but a sigh filled her lungs as she looked around and towards the door of her room. She was alone though, at least in some sense and all she could do was worry. Worry and fear, fear for the next time that creepy doctor and his chilling voice would enter in with some new task or the woman would come in and begin to probe around her in the name of physical assessment. And the guards, every guard that walked around left a sense of worry and fear that they would abuse themselves upon her again. It was all that she had felt in her time in this hellish prison with only Yoren to break the cycle of worry and fear with small glimpses of emotion that she felt before. Before she was there, but her mind couldn't wrap itself around the memories before, only the memories there.

Yoren continued on though, asking about her well being, a small tear would well up in her eyes as her hand would stop picking at the loose concrete of the hole between their walls. She would glance down towards her stomach and run the tips of her fingers along the scar and the skin around it, her nails were rough and broken, not kept at all but she didn't scratch herself with them. With a small gulp and a quieted voice she would calmly speak back up, trying to keep composure of herself, "I... I'm not sure." she would pause and her eyes would run back towards the wall as she removed her hand from it. Subconsciously she would shift closer to it, to speak even more directly to it and keep her head near the wall as she laid there. "There's a new cut, I don't see anything new to me and it feels full, so I don't know. It hurts though, it hurt a lot, it felt like I was awake and being tortured the whole time..." her head fell a bit loosely against the ground as she tried to relax and maintain control.

More footsteps approaching near her door came about, a melodic whistle from one of the guards and a quickly approaching tapping. Emiko began to turn her head and rapidly towards her door as it passed her, the baton he carried tapping against the bars of the window, as if to annoy each of the inmates a little further. Emiko's skin crawled and she jumped in hugging herself and bringing her body together as he passed. She relaxed a moment later but kept her knees brought to her and her arms around her knees before speaking up again.

"Are you okay? You sound... different right now." her head would tilt and look towards the hole, waiting for his response or question or whatever would come next. She wondered how much it would take to really pick away at the concrete at the hole to make an opening big enough for them to see through or to even get through. It was a ridiculous thought for sure but Emiko's mind ran to wonder next on whether they would let her stay here even if she combined the rooms? She knew the answer, they'd be separated. Honestly, she was surprised they hadn't caught them talking and moved them away from each other anyways.


(3911 words)

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