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Snippet #2075728

located in United States, a part of Angel....or Mutant?, one of the many universes on RPG.

United States

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Character Portrait: Jude Oakheart Character Portrait: "Sariya" Eins
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(Please forgive the slight godmodding, but you didn't really provide any details of how long they were running, where they were going, the surrounding area, or your character's actions, beyond simple dialogue, so I expanded upon it a bit for the sake of a more thorough narrative.)

As my attacker - no, Jude - knelt closer, I fully expected it to be the end. My arms were trapped in the enveloping sleeves of the garment I wore, several clasps fastening them together so that I could not so much as budge them to defend myself. I had my back up against a wall, and my abilities, as I knew them, were useless against him. The power to hear the thoughts of others, and to send your thoughts to them, would help me about as much now as a megaphone would in the middle of a vacuum. Even if I did cry out telepathically, who would there be to help me? The other experiments? They were stowed away, sealed off from this scary outside world in the world of darkness I had just escaped. The Vampires, then? Even if they were apparently a lot like me, I had gathered from Jude's thoughts that they either would or could not save any of us. The Masters would not come, either, and, in any case, I would rather face death than return to be imprisoned and executed at a later date. No, they were even more terrifying to me than was the enigma of Jude's betrayal. Here, at least, I could see the face of the one who would kill me, but in that world below, nothing was as certain, as solid, even as this. No, it would be better to die quickly at the hands of a foe that I could not understand, rather than to have my live slowly torn from my body by a far greater enemy I did not even know.

But what of the other use of my abilities? The power to discern the thoughts of others... perhaps, if I used it, I might be able to understand why Jude was attacking me, and what he planned on doing? And, in turn, if I knew this, I might also be able to convince him to leave me alive. So desperate had I been in my panic that I had, quite simply, forgotten that this could be done. Now that my thoughts were made a little clearer by the knowledge that they might well be my last, and that panic might only seal my fate forever, this idea occurred to me. And so, driven equally by a final gasp of hope and by the simple urging of necessity, I extended my senses, reaching out in the hopes of discovering what would become of me. But, it was as I feared. This - even this final, desperate attempt - was in vain. Jude's thoughts were too clouded by my crippling terror - or perhaps too guarded by the presence of danger for both of us - for me to read properly. The confused, nonsensical things I beheld were simply fragments, tiny bits and pieces of the thousands of thoughts streaming through my captor's mind, that individually could not be interpreted one way or the other, and could not be assembled into any sort of greater picture. Then there was only one option: wait, and hope against hope that I might live.

And yet live I did, for the next instant, words reached my ears that, unlike the thoughts I had received a moment before, I could plainly understand.

"Hey. It's me, Jude. I'm not going to hurt you," he said in a voice that might have been interpreted as reassuring were it not for the baffling hypocrisy of his statement. Hadn't he hurt me just a moment before? He had nearly suffocated me, had bashed me against a wall and thrown me violently to the ground. The pain of these attacks still echoed through my body, drawing tears to my eyes even now, so why was he trying to assuage my fears, to convince me that everything was alright and wasn't going to attack me when, in fact, he already had? I wasn't sure if this was supposed to imply some sort of excuse for the previous attack, but I had a feeling - inexperienced as I was at interacting with other people - that I was missing something.

On the other hand, what was the point of trying to comfort me if he was going to continue attacking me the moment I let my guard down? No, if he was leaving me alive now, it seemed logical to assume that I was safe, at least for the moment. And so, reluctantly, I allowed him to grasp my wrist and raise me to a standing posture once again, although this was more because I could not rise on my own with my hands bound and my legs collapsed beneath me, and I shrank back somewhat the moment I had my balance. But, to my surprise, the moment I began to feel secure in the least, something changed about his expression and his demeanor, and quickly, he tore off the buckles sealing my hands together and then took off, grasping me tightly by the hand and dragging me with him. Had he somehow noticed something I had missed in my panic?

"We need to get out of here." That was all he said before he took off at a full on sprint, with me reluctantly in tow behind him. He was much larger than me, and thus had a far greater stride. On top of this, I wasn't exactly in peak physical condition, given how I had spent trapped in a tiny chamber deep underground. You didn't get much practice running in a place like that, and it clearly showed in how I tripped along behind him, barely able to keep up save for the speed I gained by him hauling me along, a momentum which I could control about as well as one can control the weather. I was stumbling over my own two feet, let alone the countless uneven patches - something I was entirely unused to, given my only experience walking had been across flat, immaculately level floors - and strange, fibrous limbs extending along the ground from the bases of what I recognized as the plants known as "trees" - although I had never seen these incredible life forms before, I recognized them from thoughts I had picked up in my cell. I might have stopped then and there to marvel at the wondrous and previously unimaginable world unfolding before my eyes in all of its magnificence, but, unfortunately, I was still being unceremoniously pulled at breakneck speeds over the ground and into the forest that opened like a gaping, black maw to meet us. I nearly fell several times, my feet simply unable to keep up with my body as they slid out from under me, but each time I began to trip, I found my arm being yanked upward again as Jude continued his maddened dash for freedom, sending a jolt of pain through me as the said limb was nearly ripped out of its socket, which motivated me enough to get my feet beneath me once again despite the seeming impossibility of the task. His grip was firm and rigid, like an iron cuff that clamped down tightly on my hand, seeming to crush my very bones. I wanted to cry out in pain, but was cowed into silence by the memory of the beating he had only just finished giving me, and by the fear of the unseen, unknown pursuers that drove him to such a flight. Instead, I simply bore it as best I could, although I prayed for it to end as soon as possible. At this point, I wasn't sure if I had escaped, been rescued, or been kidnapped, but there was no time to ponder such things, for I was beginning to falter again, and my seized arm was once again screaming in protest as I was hauled to my feet, only to keep running and to fall again. But still, I bore it in silence. Even if Jude's actions made no sense, even if now, he was almost as frightening as the enemies that even now must have been hot on our heels, I couldn't bear to compromise him by any loud noise, or by slowing him down. I was useless - that, I knew. But despite that, I still didn't have to be a burden if I could help it. And so I struggled. I ran for the first time in my life, and I ran faster than I probably ever would in the forseeable future. Even as I felt as though I would collapse, I struggled not to so as not to drag him down with me. Even as my body groaned in protest, pain wracking my frame, I continually rose to keep sprinting, ignoring the fatigue I was beginning to feel along with the pain my bruised and beaten body was currently informing me to insistently of.

After seemingly an eternity of flight through the woods, we finally stopped. Evidently, Jude was satisfied that we had evaded our pursuers, and had stopped to get his bearings, and to make a plan. I was all too happy to take this chance for a respite, however brief it would have to be, and so the moment he finally loosed my hand, I fell back against a tree and seated myself, relieving the stress that had caused my legs such agony until now. I brushed the cold sweat from my brow, and went limp, my body motionless save for the swift rising and falling of my chest, drawn into stark relief by the form-fitting prison attire I was clad in, as I tried in vain to reclaim my lost breath.

"Can you find anyone else like us? I can't do anything but fight with my fists and you're in no shape to fight. We need to find someone else to help us protect ourselves." The blunt, sudden inquiry snapped me back to the present, shattering my brief moment of relief like thin ice as my captor or companion - I couldn't tell which - gazed coldly down at me. I couldn't tell what was going through his head, as I was feeling too confused, tired, and afraid to venture using my powers, and his expression was a blank, unreadable mask. His no-nonsense manner was, however, so chillingly emotionless that I quickly averted my gaze, instead focusing on how interesting my hands were and the many intriguing ways I could fidget them, pressing my fingers together in this manner and then that, although even I couldn't see any detail of what I was doing, as my hands were completely covered - nay, consumed, even - by my vast, oversized sleeves. I pursed my lips against the almost comically high collar of my jumpsuit, as though in the hope that the gag would simply fasten itself over my mouth again and give me an excuse to remain silent. But, it was no use. If I didn't answer him, all I'd be doing was being a nuisance, and even if he, quite frankly, scared me to the point that I was worried my very clean white outfit would soon be stained a rather prominent shade of yellow from the waist down, he was also the only person I could even hope was on my side, so being useless to the one person I should have helped was simply not an option.

"A-ah... I'm... not sure..." I stammered at length, the sound of my own voice - the cadence of which I had not heard for several years now, as I had been incapable of speech during my period of imprisonment - so foreign to my ears that it nearly scared me into silence. My hands began to move more feverishly, fidgeting about aimlessly with a will and a purpose that seemed paradoxical. But, it was rather difficult to be frightened of the quiet, soft and very confused sounding murmur that emerged from my throat, rendered even more high pitched than its usual sound by the manner in which I half spoke, half-whispered out of anxiety - although, to be fair, this would probably have been the manner in which I would have spoken to any other sentient being, as the thought of Human interaction, quite frankly, terrified me. Despite how fearful my voice clearly was, however, it held in it a gentle quality that seemed contradictory to its pitch, sounding more like a tentatively rung bell rather than a terrified, ear-piercing squeak. "I've never really tried before... a-and... and I don't know if I could connect my thoughts with anyone who I hadn't already... But I remember a few of the voices I heard back in that place, s-so if someone else had escaped, if I got close enough, I might be able to recognize them..." I added lamely as a means of explanation. He simply sighed slightly - although he might have just been trying to regain his breath - and turned away, glancing out through the tree canopy at something I couldn't see. I followed his gaze, and, to my surprise, noticed some sort of light streaming out of some sort of building just beyond the tree line. Slowly, I rose, and tentatively crept up beside him, trying to get a better look at what had suddenly caught my captor/comrade's interest.

It was a small, one-story building, surrounded by an empty lot and a few shrubs. There didn't look to be many other buildings in the area, which meant this couldn't have been one of the big cities I had heard so much about from the thoughts of those around me. If I recalled correctly, that meant this must be a "little town," or perhaps a "village" or "hamlet," although I was unaware of what the distinction was between these various terms. There were several large symbols on the side of the building, which I recognized as letters, even if I did not know their meaning. Judging by the small groups of people eating around tables by the windows, this must have been some kind of place where one procured food, although the sorts of things they were eating were not anything I recognized, save for the occasional roll of bread or bowl of soup, which had made up my entire diet for as long as I could remember. But, even if I didn't know what those mysterious delicacies were, I didn't have to, for their incredible, tantalizing scent reached my nose even from where I stood tempted me to break from my cover and to move closer in the hopes of getting some of these wonderful dishes for myself. At this moment, I realized just how hungry I was, as I hadn't been fed in the past few days, likely in preparation for my execution, which, combined with the fact I was cold, tired, hurting, and afraid for my life, only served to further inform me of how miserable my circumstances were.

Just then, however, I noticed something, for on the edge of my thoughts, I once again heard a voice. This wasn't to say that there were not voices I faintly perceived reaching my mind from a distance, for this was by no means true. But this voice, unlike those, which were so quiet as to be almost impossible to notice, was familiar, and it leaped out at me from the chaotic cacophony of my clamorous consciousness. And then, I knew. This was a voice I had heard before, a mind that had been close by for a long, long time. The pain that echoed from across that severed bond was familiar to me, for I had taken it and felt it in the place of the one whose mind I had now touched on. There could be no mistaking it: in that building was a being like myself, one who had been imprisoned alongside myself, and one who now had escaped, just as I myself had.

I let out a quiet gasp of surprise as the realization dawned on me, causing my companion's gaze to shift to me for a moment. I crumbled beneath his stare, quickly turning my eyes to the ground as I began fidgeting once more as means of distracting myself from the icy eyes I knew were boring into my very soul at that instant. He was going to want some kind of explanation, and, if I was going to be of any use, I would have to give it to him. So, I steeled myself, gathered my wits about me, and spoke for the second time in the past decade.

"I... I'm not sure but... That is to say, it seems impossible, but... I think I might have just sensed... one... one of us," I stammered, my words hesitant and broken by my indecisive mind trying to change what I was saying between every few words. I realized how idiotic what I had just said sounded when compared to my previous comment about how hard it would be to find any other mutants, but on the other hand, it was a relief to have it off my chest. Maybe he'd stop staring at me now. I didn't like it when he stared like that...

(Fun fact: Eins can't read. It's to be expected, considering she's never been outside of her prison in her life, but it's still going to be rather interesting. =P)