Sometimes, it seemed to Trace almost like Howl was reaching a bit. In truth, she was a little bit concerned for him. How could he be so comfortable in captivity? Every day, he became more and more of a mystery to her, though he hid nothing. He reminded her, vaguely, of someone she had known at Manibus. Her name was Weave. She was... one of the kindest people Trace had ever met, though she hid a lot of pain behind a single smile. It was Weave that, when she arrived at Manibus, in the transition into the mind-controlling state, had recognized it, and purposefully avoided the part of the food in which the continuing drug was placed every day. It had been Weave that had, once placed in a cell with Trace after her old cellmate was murdered, had took measures to take that part of their meal from Trace, too, to slowly pull her out of the mind control.
Weave did nothing for herself if there was something she could do for someone else, instead. She was quiet, softspoken, and her eyes carried more wisdom than any other pair of eyes Trace had seen. Weave was a gem. If Trace had been on good terms with her God at all, she'd call Weave His gift to her. But, regardless of if she was a gift to her, one thing was for certain: Weave was the most perfect person. Even now, even today, with Trace happily married to Erik, trapped on this island, stuck in this room with Howl, and Weave long gone... She still believed it.
"I'm defo not a dreamer, mate," she laughed a little at Howl's question. "Maybe I sleep too hard at night. But I'd bet you're a dreamer."
Trace almost regretted bringing up Kutta. But, with Capsule so fresh on her mind recently - captivity, the doctors, it was all there - it was hard to keep her mind intact. "Yeah, the useless mutt," she rolled her eyes. It was rare that she called Kutta by the name she obligatorily assigned on the second day of her being there. "If I had it my way, we wouldn't have these bloody creatures to begin with. I had enough bloody creatures back in Straya."
Britters
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Posted: 1/20/2019 at 9:31 PM
Post #312
Scooping a forkful of mushy, tasteless eggs onto his toast, Howl chewed slowly as he gathered his thoughts. They at least were providing them with coffee, though it was lukewarm at best. Really when he thought about it, this situation almost felt like having a regular life. However, having a regular life with Trace was...probably not something he should be thinking about. It was a hard thing to resist though, and he was already barely maintaining a proper balance with her as it was.
"Like I said," he replied, quickly washing down his mouthful of food with a few gulps of coffee, "Usually I dream about food, or else I dream of home." He purposefully neglected to mention that the dreams about Greece were almost always nightmares.
Having nightmares is alright, because at least it still means ya were able'ta sleep..., the grizzled, worn out voice of Chap sounded inside his head again.
The years Howl had spent on the streets hadn't been great, but at least they'd been something. He hadn't thought about his old mentor this much in quite a long time, and the realization made him long for his familiar's companionship. He enjoyed Trace's company, but he knew that she wasn't much of a conversationalist, and still felt somewhat cautious when talking to her. There were so many things he still wanted to learn about her, though in hindsight this probably wasn't the right topic to start with...
"So," he started, eyeing her casually with his gold-flecked silver eyes, "What made you name her Kutta?" A simple question, but one which he hoped might lead to other answers to questions regarding the bloodhound.
Creativity
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Posted: 1/21/2019 at 10:23 AM
Post #313
India had been Trace's original home. She had only lived there until she was about six, but it was her first home. Living in that caravan, amazing people for money... They were applauded, worshiped in some towns. They had money and roses thrown at them as they performed feats and acts that the normal person could not do. People would ask them how they did it, the Singhs, and they'd just say that they were special. God-sent to bring entertainment to the masses, she remembered her father joking once.
But most of her childhood had been spent in Australia. Honestly? Australia was the best and worst place she had ever freely lived in. It was a gorgeous place with wonderful people and a few dozen thousand animals that could and would kill you. But in spite of all that, Australia was her home, too. Even more so than India, she thought, though India would always hold a place in her twisted little tin can of a heart.
At Howl's strange question, she snorted, grinning a little and shaking her head. "'Kutta' just means 'dog' in Hindi. When I woke up, the morning after arriving, there was a drongo dog on my bed. I told it to shoo, and called it 'Kutta'," she explained. For some reason, she felt a little...calmer than before today. As if she had become a little more accepting of their situation.
Or maybe she had just become closer to Howl, she realized. The thought excited, confused, and scared her all at once. Howl was, she found...a rather outstanding person. The amount of care he showed, for anyone really, was sweet and gentle and warm. It made her feel...strange. Almost nervous around him, sometimes.
"What about you?" she felt compelled to ask. "Why Chap?"
Britters
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Posted: 1/21/2019 at 11:31 PM
Post #314
Everything about being around Trace felt better than almost anything Howl could ever remember experiencing. Her sass, her tough exterior, her strange way of speaking, it was all almost as familiar to him as breathing. He looked at her and felt as though he'd known her his whole life. It was as though he could just sit here and watch her and talk to her forever, and he was slightly uncomfortable with just how intense the feeling was if he was being honest. As though he was ever going to be able to lead a regular existence off of this island.
Stupid human..., the voice was very faint, almost a whisper, and Howl was shocked to realize that he had possibly just actually heard Kutta instead of just imagining her voice in his head.
"Hm, interesting," he said, his voice distracted as he glanced around the room as though expecting to see the bloodhound sitting in a corner, "So if you had shouted something else at her would that have been her name?" He was trying to keep things light and casual, to not let anything further darken this morning for them.
Until Trace asked her questions and it all came tumbling down...
Looking back, Howl probably should have realized the conversation would lead here sooner or later, and had his mind been more focused he might have been better abled to avoid this question. However, he had been too caught up in worrying about Trace's well-being and paying so much attention to her that he had been blind to all else. Even now, he knew he could probably evade needing to answer her easily enough, but instead he found himself more concerned with how Trace would react if he didn't answer her or became evasive.
"Oh, uh," he started, blinking rapidly and briefly still considering avoiding her question, "I grew up on the streets. I was very little, I don't remember my parents. I was picked up by a street thug and trained for thievery." His throat was startibg to feel right, and he cleared his throat as casually as he could. "Anyway, when I got out of that I was all by myself, still pretty young, trying to survive. There was this old guy that lived in one of the better alleyways, he sort took me under his wing, taught me how to do stuff. I have no idea what his real name was, but we all called him Chap." It wasn't the whole story, or even half of it, but it was enough for now...
Creativity
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Posted: 1/22/2019 at 7:39 AM
Post #315
Although Trace had never been an incredibly observant person, it didn't take a high passive perception to notice Howl's body language when he began speaking about his familiar's namesake, and his past in general. It both scared and intrigued Trace; she had never seen him act...anything less than confident, really. Even when they had opened the box, and they were being taken by the scientists, he wasn't panicked at all. He acted as if he remained in control of the situation, at all times.
So, this...vulnerability that he was showing her... It was completely new, unexpected. And, in a rare moment of compassion - something she didn't often experience in abundance - Trace reached out and placed her hand on one of Howl's.
"I can't imagine how that must have been, growing up all alone. My parents were an important part of my childhood. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have either of them. I can tell Chap was important to you. I'm sorry I asked."
Perhaps it was the most sincere thing she had said in... A long time. Ever since they'd been on this island - a whopping four years - at least. No slang, no masks, just... compassion. It was odd, and she felt a surge of something run through her when she realized that he deserved more, too. He had given her more than he asked, and he deserved more, too.
The idea of talking about Capsule made her tremble slightly, but she gave her head a little shake and then cleared her throat. She fixed her gaze on the table and dug her feet into the ground, trying to build her steely resolve to tell Howl what she hadn't even told Erik.
"That place that the other scientist mentioned, Capsule -" she cut off already when her voice came out louder than she wanted. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed hard. "They... They treat you like you're nothing there. Like you're an animal. An object. An Ability. 'Just the Ability, not the person'," she laughed dryly as she quoted the other woman. "They... They make you hate your Ability." Reaching down with suddenly-numb fingers, she unlatched the dog collar, black with dull little stubs serving as fake spikes, and held it within her hands on the table. "They lock you up and starve you, and then manipulate you. They design a plan specifically meant to shatter your soul into millions of pieces... Th... They put a collar around your neck and hold you on a leash, and they shove your face in the mud and tell you that you're nothing more than a mutt, a filthy bloodhound, and you're too weak, too starved, too broken to argue." She looked away and blinked back the tears that threatened to overflow - she couldn't remember the last time she had cried. All while she said this, she refused to look at Howl. She didn't want to see his expression. She cleared her throat again to get rid of the tears choking her.
"...You never fully recover from Capsule."
Britters
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Posted: 1/22/2019 at 10:40 PM
Post #316
Sentimental was a word that Howl would not usually use to describe himself. Things like sentiment and emotions played little part in the life of a vagrant. It was a life of uncertainty, hunger and survival. Having buddies was one thing, sometimes you could develop friendships but those could be problematic. Chap had always been adamant about the fact that he was not Howl's friend, he was Howl's advisor. Friends could hurt you, and on the streets you always had to look out for your own well-being.
After answering Trace's question, Howl figured he was in the clear. He had given her enough information to satisfy her to let the matter drop, since he didn't think she would go so far as to push him in particular. Other people certainly, but they had connected, and he was starting to believe that he was not the only one who had noticed. Trace seemed more at ease, and he suspected she had had an inkling as to whether or not it had to do with being around him. He was ready to change the subject, to move onto the next thing and maintain their happy little bubble for as long as possible.
Then Trace had to go and mess things up again...
To say that Howl was surprised when Trace laid her hand upon his would have been an understatement, but it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when she began to tell him about such a vulnerable part of her life. He said nothing as she spoke, but only gazed at her intently, a hint of awe floating in his eyes. He was aware of their skin to skin contact as his body began to flush hot and cold again, but his attention never left her face as he listened to her horrible tale, and every moment that passed he felt his heart tear a little. The sight of the tears which glistened on her face was the last straw.
"Oh, asteri mu, no, no," he got up from his chair and came to take a knee on the floor beside Trace, taking both her hands in his and holding them up near his face while he looked at her intensely, "Come now, I'm not going to be able to stand seeing your eyes full of tears." He caressed her knuckles with his thumb, an almost absent gesture. "I can't imagine what you were put through at that...place, but I know that you must be even stronger than I already knew you to be, and I am even more glad to know you in this life." He paused for only a second before taking the only course of action that made sense to him at the time.
Reaching up rather quickly and taking the back of her neck in firm but gentle grip, Howl pulled her face down to meet his for a kiss...
Creativity
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Posted: 1/23/2019 at 12:02 AM
Post #317
A million and one thoughts ran through Trace's mind, and at the same time, her mind was blank.
It was rare that she cried. When her mother died, and she lost her home, she did not cry. When her father was bitten by a dangerous snake and the hospital didn't take care of him in time because they were foreigners, she did not cry. When she isolated herself from her entire family, when she cut her brother out, she did not cry. But Capsule... Capsule broke you. A person who did not cry over Capsule at least once was not a person.
She was forced to look at Howl when he knelt by her and took her hands, his own grip gentle, comforting. He was so comforting. Emotions surged through her as she stared into his beautiful silver eyes. Why was this so comfortable?
His voice was soft, and she found any words leaving her own throat. When he leaned in to kiss her, she didn't pull away. In fact, she moved forward the slightest bit, met his lips in her own. She felt like she was ten miles high, soaring high above clouds, without a single worry. Smiling against him, Trace took one hand from his and placed it on one of his shoulders, kissing him further.
When they finally pulled away, out of a mutual need for air, Trace wasn't quite sure what to think. She let her hand drop from his shoulder, but didn't withdraw her other hand from him. She couldn't keep the soft smile off her face as she looked at him. "I haven't told anyone about Capsule, ya know... Not even-"
Oh.
Perhaps, when another man had kissed her, she should have pulled back with her first thought being her husband. But... It didn't feel wrong, even now. Erik was in Australia. She was on some obscure island. Maybe... Maybe it was the little things that were thrown her way. Maybe that's what she had to appreciate.
-
Around Diego, Ziva was a lot calmer. She could talk to him. He was her best friend, after all. Her only friend, really. Around him, she could be herself. She knew for a fact that he wouldn't judge her. But, when Diego wasn't around... Well, social anxiety was certainly not a fun companion.
She had never missed one of Diego's games for as long as she'd known him. Even when they first met, something had compelled her to go to the football game that Friday - if that something was an annoying foster parent who wanted her out of the house for once. Her anxiety about it never got any better. And, as always, she was sat in the front right corner of the bleachers, a full three feet away from anyone else attending the game, with her arms wrapped around herself awkwardly. Still, she couldn't help but smile at Diego whenever he would glance her way.
Over the past few days, she had become...suspicious of what she had seen just over a week ago. That flash, that classified file. Containment of virus. She had begun looking over her shoulder a bit more, but she hadn't really noticed anything out of the usual. Except, of course, for last Friday night with Diego, but, again, she was putting that behind them.
It was strange, the glitch of the file. She had scoured her computer for viruses, practically took the software apart to see if something had been affected, and had, more than once, tried to navigate back to the file. What if she had just uncovered a conspiracy? What if there were skeevy politicians that had agents tracking her down right now for it?
Containment of virus.
That's all she had seen... But what did it mean?
Edited By Creativity on 1/23/2019 at 12:14 AM.
Britters
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Posted: 1/23/2019 at 6:24 PM
Post #318
One thing Diego had never been overly burdened with in his life was anxiety. It wasn't that he was such a narcissist that he believed he was so amazing he never had to be concerned about others (though, even he had to admit that he was more than a little cocky). His self-confidence came easily to him, and even when he failed at something or made a fool of himself he was more likely to simply laugh the incident off than anything else. The only time he ever got even the littlest bit nervous was right before a game.
"You can do this," he murmured to himself while he did his pre-game stretches with his fellow teammates, "Piece of cake." This was true, football was as natural to him as breathing, but he knew his head was not as focused as it needed to be.
It was Ziva. That was what it all came down to, Diego had realized. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't keep her off of his mind. Before the graduation party he remembered thinking about her frequently, but they had just been best friends then. Of course, they were still just best friends, he corrected himself hurriedly, nothing had changed. That was what Ziva wanted him to believe, maybe she even believed it herself, but he had been less successful at feeling convinced.
Nothing has changed, it meant nothing, better to forget it... Diego thought, trying hard to shake it all off. This had become his mantra this last week, but everytime he glanced in Ziva's direction and she smiled, his stomach did another somersault and he knew he was making no progress.
"Diego! Game time!" There was time for a final deep breath and then he jogged out onto the field.
For most of the game everything went very smoothly. Diego's team was able to score, and they were still dominating as the game was getting closer to ending. It wasn't until he was standing and watching the player in control of the ball, waiting for a pass, that another player on the other team came close enough to speak to him, and it was with a jolt that he realized it was one of his acquaintances who had been at the party. With an even worse twist in his stomach,he recognized him as the one who had stolen Ziva's glasses.
"I see your girlfriend made it, Mr. Perfect," said Jaime scornfully, "Nice to see you've lowered your standards so considerably. Or are you just worried you might have knocked her up and you're trying to do the honorable thing?" His voice held so much hatred towards Diego.
However, it was Jaime's words which caught Diego's attention just long enough to be disastrous. His teammate tried to pass the ball to him, but he returned his focus to the game a second too late to catch it cleanly at his feet. He fought with Jaime for it, and Jaime was able to get the underhand and wrestled it away from him so nimbly that Diego found himself flat on his back in the grass. Winded, he was about to jump back when he noticed, with horror, that he was directly in the path of the mob of players running to his side of the field. Some were trying to slow down and avoid him, but others would not be able to miss him. He balled himself up and quickly concentrated until he felt metal covering his torso to protect his body from the blows. It was a much larger area than he usually used at any given time.
That was when all the stadium lights exploded in a spectacular display of sparks and crackling.
Edited By Britters on 1/23/2019 at 9:46 PM.
Creativity
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Posted: 1/23/2019 at 10:09 PM
Post #319
It was a little confusing, at first, when Diego seemed to get distracted. Ziva knew him, and it wasn't often that he got distracted during a game. When she had first started coming to the games, after he had initially saved her from a couple bullies, but before they had actually directly interacted, it had seemed to her as if he noticed absolutely nothing but the ball. She still wasn't completely certain why she had continued attending the games after that first one, when she had been kicked out of the house pretty much, but she had a feeling it had something to do with the way that sometimes, his smiles could make her heart skip a beat, even back then, and how fascinated she sometimes became with the fluidity with which he would move. The confidence, that attractive confidence...
Shaking her head and mentally scolding herself for being such an idealistic idiot, Ziva hardened her gaze to try to force herself to pay attention to the game. She was by no means a preppy girl. She didn't dress up nice to get attention, she didn't put makeup on. She wore long-sleeved sweatshirts over nerdy t-shirts with old blue jeans. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually done something with her hair besides brushing it behind her ear to get it out of her face. Diego wanted a preppy girl. He deserved a preppy girl...
She had been so lost in her own fantasies, she hadn't been really paying much attention to the game... So, when the stadium lights suddenly exploded, she jumped almost a whole foot in the air. Scrambling to her feet, all she could think was they've found me. She didn't want to put anyone in danger... If the bad people with the Containment of Virus files had found her, it was likely they weren't afraid to make a scene.
This was her warning.
Quickly, she shot a text off to Diego. saw something i shouldnt have. containment of virus. meet me in parking lot. quickly please
There was a bit of commotion as the lights flickered back on and people began panicking over what had happened. The referees had called a timeout for it, and suddenly, it was as if the bleachers had filled with twice as many people as before. Ziva felt herself get shoved by people moving past, and her anxiety rode ever higher, but she fought her way out of the masses with only a little struggle. Most people, she found, were gathering in a nearby gym rather than going home.
When she got to the parking lot, it was completely void of life. She paced beside Diego's car, rubbing the back of her neck worriedly. "Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up..." she murmured with a slight tremble. She wanted to go home. And if Diego said no... She'd call a cab again. If it wasn't Shabbat, she might've even stolen his keys and took his car, leaving him a text.
Her whole life, she hadn't really fought back. When her parents gave her up for adoption, she couldn't fight it. When a glitch in the system moved her to Spain, where she didn't even know the official language, in spite of how upset she had been, she didn't fight it.
She tried to fight, now. When three men suddenly appeared behind her, and in her pacing, she turned and saw them... She tried to fight them. But she was physically weak, and she was outnumbered. She wasn't Diego. She managed a scream - trying to alert others to the situation - but then she couldn't get away, and two of the men held her fast while the third hit her left temple with the butt of his gun.
And then it all went black.
Britters
Level 72
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Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posted: 1/23/2019 at 11:37 PM
Post #320
Many things were happening at once. For the few seconds that the lights were out the football field was in total chaos. Diego felt bodies collide with his, could hear others colliding with each other. There was a lot of shouting and people crying out names of family and friends in the dark. When the lights came back on, Diego was still on the ground, his head covered with his arms. He slowly raised himself, his metal skin having already melted back into his body, his eyes blinking to adjust to the brightness again.
If this had been before graduation, Diego's first impulse would still have been to look for Ziva first thing, but he didn't think he would have felt so panicked when he didn't see her in her usual seat on the bleachers. His heart slammed painfully in his chest and he was on his feet in an instant. He was only vaguely aware of the referees calling an official timeout to sort out the electrical issue as he walked swiftly to the sidelines and dug his cellphone out of his duffel bag under the bench. He let out a deep sigh of relief when he saw she had texted him...
"What the...," he muttered under his breath, trying to make sense of what she'd written but he couldn't understand any of it except for the fact that she sounded distressed.
Which was more than enough to get him moving...
Screw the game, get to Ziva. Those were Diego's thoughts exactly as he grabbed his bag and made his way to the parking lot. He was already moving with urgency, but as soon as he heard Ziva scream, well...he moved so fast the rest of the stadium became a blur around him. He could think only of Ziva as he sprinted out into the deserted parking lot. There was barely a fraction of a second for him to make sense of the situation, and really all he needed to know was that Ziva was being attacked.
Diego's last thought as someone jumped him from behind and stuck a needle into his neck was that he had to protect Ziva at all costs...then it was nothing but darkness again.
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