Vartouhi's eyes opened into a squint, bleary. She sat up, wondering if she'd imagined the sound, but no--it came again. Three knocks at the door echoed off the walls of Jongin's apartment. She crept over to the door to peer through the peephole, and upon seeing a large box, opened it. "Hello?"
"Delivery! For a Miss..." The man peered at the tag, confused. "V... Vaaar..."
Vartouhi paled. "F-for me?"
"Depends. Are you this girl?" The man flipped the tag for her to see what was written there. Sure enough, in plain lettering: Miss Vartouhi.
"Well, yes, but I--"
"Great!" he interjected, dashing behind the hand truck and tipping it back to wheel the huge box inside.
"No, you don’t understand--Ah, sir? I... can't, this can't be for me," she tried to explain. But the man simply set the box in the middle of the living room floor before wheeling on out.
"It's your name on the label. Have fun!"
Vartouhi blinked owlishly as the door shut with a feeling of finality, simply staring for a long moment as if expecting the man to come back in and announce it was all a joke. But nothing happened. The apartment was as still as ever. As a matter of fact, where was Jongin? she wondered.
"Nevermind that..." she mumbled, turning to look at the box. The real question was: how would she explain this to him when he came back? It was taller than her, maybe even taller than him, and narrower in width. The princess cringed. He was a nice enough friend to offer his apartment to her for shelter. Surely he would think she was purposefully getting to comfortable if he came home to find this... "What is it, anyway?" she wondered out loud, walking closer.
Shaking it revealed that it must be heavy for a human, because it was a considerable weight compared to most things she'd picked up on Earth. Besides that, it didn't move much under her little hands pushing and pulling. She pursed her lips into a frown. No, it was definitely not something she wanted to keep here for Jongin to find. Afraid he may come back at any moment, her eyes glowed white around the irises as her power picked it up, and she quickly opened the window. It barely fit through, but she managed, and away she flew with it, to the mountain where she'd first crash-landed.
Once she and the box had landed safely, she ripped the box apart into its perfect rectangular sides, gasping at what was inside.
It was... a eunuch?
Vartouhi shuffled forward, unsure. How could a person sleep upright like that? And what human on this planet could weigh so much? Was it just Koreans that were so lightweight, and perhaps in another country heavier humans dominated? But as she came closer, she noticed lines over key body joints, and some going down the arms, legs, and torso like the seams of clothing. She furrowed her brows, reaching out for its hand.
She shuddered and retracted it a moment later. Cold. She bit her lip, eyes wide. Was it a dead human?
Vartouhi circled around, checking for more abnormalities. Immediately, she spotted a glowing red symbol on the nape of its neck. It appeared to be a circle, broken by a short line at the very top. She had no idea what it meant, but she reached up to touch it nonetheless. The skin underneath was abnormally hard. She pressed down to investigate further. There was the feeling of pushing a button, and the familiar click of one, too. She gasped and backed up as there were whirring noises coming from within the thing, several lights flashing on and off under the skin.
Its fingers twitched. Muscles--or some mechanism similar to muscles--flexed and relaxed.
It turned its large, muscular body towards her. Dark eyes glowed red around the edges, then yellow as it looked directly at her. She lifted a few inches off the ground, nervous. Finally, its eyes glowed green. "Subject identity confirmed. Initiating incapacitation." The voice wasn’t quite human, and Vartouhi began to fly upward to get away from it, but it bent its knees and leapt into the air, high enough to grab her by the shoulders. She was so startled that she lost concentration, and it easily overpowered her, shoving her into the dirt hard enough that dirt blew away from the impact in a shallow Vartouhi-shaped crater.
Her head was spinning, and in that time, the thing pulled its hand back, a syringe needle sliding out of its index finger. "No!" was her shrill, fearful cry as it jabbed her in the neck, injecting some substance into her. She was all-too alert with panic, and her eyes surged with light, mental influence ripping the thing apart in seconds.
She sat up in the midst of the debris, breathing hard, a shuddering whine escaping her on every exhale. With shaking limbs, she stood, and jumped up into the air. Before she could break the canopy of the trees, she felt woozy. As the base of the mountain came in sight, she was seeing double. Her eyes wouldn't stay open next, and she could feel herself losing altitude. The trip to the ground was a short one, but she fell to her knees as she landed, groaning while she crawled forward. The light began flickering out of her eyes and her limbs felt like stones, but she dragged herself forward, writhing and squirming towards the creek.
She felt the cool water flow around her as she tried to roll onto her back, falling unconscious midway, lying on her side.
‹ ♕ —; The demoness has just returned from her own personal spot located at the top of one of the highest buildings nearby, she usually spends her time there to get out of her apartment’s lonely atmosphere, perhaps it’s not the atmosphere itself but it’s her that’s in a bad need of a friend, her only friends nowadays are a cup of coffee and good book. She successfully teleported to her apartment, ❛ Wow, i didn’t end up in a dark alley? ❜ she said, a little surprised.
She shrugged and gave herself a mental pat on the back for being able to use her powers better, it’s teleporting that always got her in trouble. She sat down between her two fully-grown tigers and smiled lightly feeling the warmth emitting from their large body, she lied her petite deeper into the couch and watched whatever was on Television, it was some mystery movie, probably old due to the bad filming quality. The female almost instantly stood up as she heard a knock from the door, she proceeded to the door and fixed her appearance at the mirror beside the door before cautiously opening the door, it could be anyone.
❛ Hello? ❜ She looked at the delivery man with a puzzled look, she haven’t ordered anything lately. She opened the door wider to see a tall box standing besides him, ❛ Woah— What’s that ❜ she looked at the box with an ever more bewildered look, ❛ I’m sorry but i haven’t ordered anything ❜ she said with an apologetic smile and just when she about to close the door, he handed her a paper with her name on it, all the information on it is accurate. ❛ Oh... i’ll take it then ❜ she gave up and signed the paper before pulling the heavy box inside, lying it on the living room’s floor as she gazed down on it. ❛ Now what may you be? ❜ she asked the inanimate object and pushed it to her bedroom, ❛ What the fuck— It’s so heavy ❜ she groaned loudly as she pushed it with all her might and lied it on her comfy bed.
Her small hands worked quickly on ripping the box, her curiosity increasing the more she expose the mysterious delivery. Once she was done, she was astonished at the sight; Have someone sent a dead body to her? no, that’s not the case. Lily being a killer, knew how dead bodies were and this one is more alive. It’s a beautiful tall naked male figure that captivate the demoness’s attention. She moved the paper covering him but stopped at a certain private place, ❛ Ew— No! ❜ She yelled and closed her eyes at the sight, covering it again with the paper. She moved it out of the box and lied it down, covering a certain part of his body with a towel, ❛ It’s so...real ❜ she lied down on her stomach, looking closely at his face as she felt it, it’s not human but it’s similar to it. Things like this made her fascinated, she’s always a curious little beast and she couldn’t help but keep touching the figure, looking for a power button or whatever it is to wake it up.
She gave up and lied half of her body on him, patiently waiting for it to wake up, ❛ Come on! ❜ she whined and kept patting it’s cheek. ❛ He’s so beautiful ❜ she pouted and looked closely at it, playing with it’s hair before giving it a soft kiss on the lips; it’s cold body started to heat up, heart starting to beat and it’s eyes slowly opened. Lily gasped and smiled widely, ❛ You’re awake ❜ she sat up and clapped in excitement. The figure sat up and rubbed it’s sleepy eyes, scanning his surroundings with a confused expression, ❛ I’m not in the factory anymore, where am i? ❜.
❛ My apartment, you’ve been given to me about an hour ago ❜ She said and brushed back her lengthy red strands, she’s happy she has a fired to be by her side all the time not to forget that she’s happy to have a figure with such beauty.
❛ You’re my mistress then! ❜ it exclaimed, pulling the petite one into a tight embrace causing Lily’s cheeks to shift into a bright pink color at the contact, as if being naked wasn’t enough but she can feel her breast pressing into him. ❛ H-Hold up, just put some clothes on first ❜ She muttered and slowly pushed him. ❛ Are you going to be my friend and take care of me? ❜ The figure asked with a smile, joy in his eyes.
❛ Of course, Friend ❜
She said with her most brightest smile; It’s a wonderful incident and maybe she won’t have to suffer with her loneliness again with her robotic friend beside her.
ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ #5
s ʜ ᴜ ᴛ ɪ ɴ
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Eighth Floor
Gifts and Home
Wedding Services
Ding. Ding. Screech.
Uh-oh!
The elevator has stopped between the 7th and 6th floor.
but the other person in the elevator with you begins to lose it.
Can you calm them down, or does their hysteria spread to you?
Will you panic, or will you ease their worries?
You can keep your cool for a time,
What happens?
Word count: 1378
Usually, Vartouhi preferred to take stairs, unless she was in a hurry. She never was, and she wasn’t this time, either, but the stairs were blocked off--all of them, for cleaning. Cleaning! Vartouhi closed her eyes, wrinkling her nose slightly as she sighed through her nostrils. How absolutely inconvenient, she thought. Now she was stuck in close proximity with someone side-glancing at her for long moments, no doubt wondering where he had seen her face. She kept pulling strands of the wig’s dark hair to hang closer to her face, under the ruse of trying to restyle it. If it weren’t for the reflective doors, she would have worried that her pink hair slipped out from under the cap.
The middle-aged businessman was so preoccupied with looking at her that he didn’t even notice how she was watching him in the doors’ reflection. The princess watched as he took out that small rectangular device everyone had--a phone, she reminded herself--and began to tap furiously at it. Soon, he lifted his phone so the back of it was parallel with her face, and tapped at it a few more times. Vartouhi bit her lip uncertainly, unsure what his actions meant.
And then, the elevator gave a violent shudder, causing both of them to stumble. His phone fell out of his grip and dropped to the ground, sliding right in front of Vartouhi’s feet as the compartment settled just between the seventh and sixth floors. Without missing a beat, she bent down and picked it up.
The man was too busy pressing at the buttons on the wall to notice her confusedly tapping at his phone’s screen. He’d taken several photos of her--4, to be exact. There was a symbol that looked suspiciously like a trash bin, and when she tapped it, the pictures disappeared. She made sure each one of them did. But this was nowhere near the furious tapping he’d been doing before. It took her some trial and error, but she finally came upon his “Messages,” and paled as she read the most recent 3.
You won’t believe this. The girl from the news is in the elevator with me! The terrorist!!
Oh my God, what if she planted a bomb in the department store somewhere??
I’m gonna take pictures and send them to you. I need you to call the police for me and let them know to get over here as soon as they can. Pray for me.
Her eyes glowed faintly, and the screen cracked, but she didn’t stop pushing force on the device until the light in the screen flickered out and then the screen went blank. Immediately her eyes went back to normal and she looked up at the man, just in time for him to look to her. His nervous smile faded into a look of horror as he saw his phone in her hands, and then shock and regret when he noticed the state of his phone. Reaching over, she explained, “The impact must have damaged it. I hope it is not permanent.”
He was reluctant to touch her, just standing there fidgeting. So finally, she leaned over and took his hand to turn it palm-up, pressing it to his palm and closing his fingers around it before she let go. Then she backed up to lean against the elevator wall and look at the doors calmly, sighing. “Will we be here very long?” she asked out loud, unsure if perhaps this was a normal occurrence when taking elevators.
“You’re a liar.” Her eyes averted to the man again. “This is the highest quality phone case available for professional businessmen, known for its sleek style and its exceptional protection. There’s no way that fall broke it. You broke it.”
Vartouhi grit her teeth just slightly, feeling her chest tighten. She knew she had nothing to worry about, because she’d already deleted the pictures, and no one would believe just his word alone. Still, the fact that he recognized her even with the dark hair unnerved her. The look on his face became aggressive and confident, and that made her even more wary.
“I can just get them to take the SD card out and put it in another phone, you know? Are you really that stupid?” He blew air sharply out from between his teeth. “You know… you killed my lover with that bomb. She was buying cigarettes at our usual convenience store.” His voice was very low, and the words shook as the look in his eyes become darker, wild.
Vartouhi pressed herself into the very farthest corner of the elevator, eyes darting from him to the doors, to the walls, to the ceiling. She found only two exits: the doors and the service hatch in the top. His chuckle brought her attention back on him. “If I killed you now, I’d be doing the country a service, you know? Normally you’ll go to jail for vigilante justice but… once they know it’s you, they won’t doubt it was self defense.” He cracked his knuckles. “You’re nothing but a little girl. I’m very good at hurting little girls.”
She got chills all over, eyes widening, and he lunged. Immediately, she threw him back against the elevator wall, keeping him pinned there. He panicked at the sight of her eyes, a ragged growl of “What the hell are you--“ escaping him. She trembled, unable to remember what part of the body she could press on to make him pass out. Not wanting to waste time prodding, she closed her eyes and reached out her mental influence to wrap around his brain. She’d never forget where memory was located; she still remembered Afzal running a finger along the side of his head when she was forgetful, teasing her, and how she’d had her tutor tell her what it meant.
Vartouhi bit her bottom lip. Short-term was so risky. Too much aggravation, and she could end up turning him into a danger to society. She put the gentlest pressure on it, hoping it was just enough to wipe out the last hour, maybe the last day at the most. She wanted to cry, because it felt so invasive, and because the amount of concentration she had to put into it was so exhausting it was almost painful.
When she finally snapped her eyes open, she sank down to her knees, panting. Her limbs felt like lead, but she managed to lift her head to see the man staring at her with an incredulous expression. “What’s going on? What are you!?” he cried in a panic. He ran forward, brought his fist back, and she wasn’t fast enough--he slugged her one across the cheek. His arm reeled back for another, but her blowing the hatch in the top clean off its hinges startled him, and he fell forward. Vartouhi yelped as he knocked her head back against the elevator wall. Her head was absolutely throbbing now. What started as a groan of pain as she pushed him off turned into a sharp cry when she lifted herself into the air and through the hatch.
She had to get out. She knew she wouldn’t be able to use her powers for much longer. With the bottom blocked off, she parted the doors to the seventh floor just the slightest, checking for people in the immediate area. There were none (probably because shoppers were diverted to the other elevator). So Vartouhi gripped either edge of the doors and pushed. It wasn’t necessarily hard to force them open, given her strength, but it hurt with how drained she was. She quickly touched down on the floor, letting the light in her eyes die out.
She was breathing hard. Her head was spinning. She took the stairs, ignoring the protests of the janitors. She didn’t owe them an explanation, and besides that, she didn’t want to waste her breath. It wasn’t long before she was outside, and bolting for Kyungsoo’s place. Vartouhi did try to fly, but as she cleared the roof of one building, her vision started to tunnel, quickly filling in with darkness. She felt the insistent pull of gravity and a breeze before she felt nothing at all.
One morning you wake to find yourself in a straight jacket,
being taken off to an asylum.
How do you prove your sanity?
What do the guards and psychiatrists say you did?
Are you pretending or are you just scared?
Maybe you are just a little insane after all.
❨ ⟣"F-Fuck..." The demoness spoke painfully, coming back to her consciousness, she felt her whole body wake up in throbbing pain yet her body refused to move. Wicked green eyes flickered at the dim source of light, she's sitting in the middle of a small unfamiliar room. She looked at her surrounding trying to analyze what happened but her mind remained blank. At such time, her number one option is to use her demonic powers but it failed her, not event the heat of her body is acting up, as if the pain eating her alive wasn't enough but feeling this weak is a new feeling, "Not working" she uttered. The sound of shoes clicking caught her attention, quickly lifting her head off her bare feet she finds a man in a suit sitting in front of her, "So, Miss. Lily" he started speaking and fixed his tie before bringing his chair closer to the demoness's. "So you claim that you're the 'Princess of hell'?" He averted his eyes to the pad in his hands, "So what makes you think that way?". Lily tried to pounce forward and attack the man but something held her back, "Huh?" she looked down at her body to find herself in a white jacket, the picture is complete. "Let me go!" She let out a loud scream and shook herself, trying to get out of the straight jacket but everything seems to be failing her right now. "Stay calm" The man ordered, displaying his palm to the female. "I swear to satan, i'll throw you in hell once I'm out of here" She hissed and tried to push herself forward to attack him. "Aggressive" The man muttered and scribbled it down on his notes. "Why am i here?" She asked, a hint of anger still in her voice. Perhaps anger and demonic powers won't help her in this case but she is still blessed with eternal beauty that only continues to blossom, that's one thing that almost never failed, humans are ver easily swayed by beauty but the demoness didn't posses just any kind of beauty but beauty that even flowers felt jealous of. "You're here because...your neighborhood have saw suspicious actions from you, things that aren't considered human" He cocked an eyebrow and firmly spoke but once his eyes met the girl's eyes, he became enchanted in her beauty. A small smirk drew on her lips, from the dropped jaw and his gaze, she could tell that she successfully attracted him without making the smallest effort. "This jacket is awfully tight. Mind taking me out of it?" With a bat of her long eyelashes, her request is complied. 'Stupid humans, so easily manipulated' She scoffed and shook her head at the reality. She had no idea it would be this easy until he came behind her only to tighten up the jacket. "Ow!" The princess yelled in pain, it feels like her limbs are crashing into each other. "You think i'd let you go this easy?" The man whispered in her ear but it's not a human voice, it's her father's. "Father!" She yelled in disbelief, out of everyone, it's her father but it's mostly her father playing games on her. She sighed and shook her head, "Did you really have to inject me and all that?" she gave him a glare, "I'm your princess, daddy" she batted her eyelashes at him. "Princess or not, you have your duties and you failed to finish them. You deserve worse than this" He said as he released her from the limb-crashing jacket. "I'll try to do my job correctly but—" She was in the middle of speaking until her father's loud voice cut her off, "No! you've been too distracted with humans! these animals hurt you yet you still like them". Lily's lips curled into a thin line, her eyes drifting to her feet, she herself felt embarrassed by such thing.
ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ #4
ʟ ᴜ ᴄ ɪ ᴅ ɪ ᴛ ʏ
One morning you wake to find yourself in a straight jacket,
being taken off to an asylum.
What do the guards and psychiatrists say you did?
How do you prove your sanity?
Are you pretending or are you just scared?
Maybe you are just a little insane after all.
word count: 2034
Vertigo. An annoying, constant rumbling and shaking around her. Pain in her head that made her want to stay unconscious. Were her ears bleeding? She wasn't sure. She didn't even want to open her eyes, the pain behind them like acid eating its way through her flesh. But she did.
It was dim in the padded room. There was a little window with crisscross bars on it; she could see the scenery stretching back to the horizon until it couldn't be seen anymore. The lands on the sides of the path seemed almost rural, so sparse were the buildings, but there were no farms or really anything of use. It seemed whoever put her in the back of this moving room (Was it a car of some sort? She wasn't sure) was trying to bring her far away from civilization.
Her first instinct was to flee. She tried moving her arms, only for fabric to constrict her. Looking down, she found herself in a white long-sleeved garment. The fabric was rough and scratched at her skin, an extremely uncomfortable feeling. Belts pulled tight against her chest, some looping over her arms, which were stuck folded tightly over her chest. A strap ran between her thighs, she assumed to attach at the back and make escape more difficult.
Just as she tried to activate her powers, the pain in her head spiked so much that she screamed and threw herself back on the floor. Panting, tears collected at the corners of her eyes as she tried again, but the same pain returned and she groaned and whimpered in pain, writhing on the floor until it finally subsided. Her limbs were warm and felt heavier. Something about the flow of water in her hydrotubules didn't feel as smooth, as if something had made it more viscous. With a sigh hissing between gritted teeth, she concluded she was drugged.
When the vehicle stopped, men opened the doors in the back. Several held her down so one could inject her with more drugs. They took effect quickly, due to her physiology, and she couldn't move even if she wanted to. The hazy feeling made even the idea of moving seem painfully strenuous, her limbs even heavier than before. She was barely able to keep her eyes open, let alone stay focused enough to take in where they were taking her in the wheelchair. She passed between consciousness and unconsciousness over and over, the world fading into blurred images and then black again and again.
She didn't know when she slept. She didn't know how she ended up on a bed in a cell, an IV directing a sugar solution into her arm, the sounds of mad chattering and wild whooping and hollering echoing off the walls, making it seem like the noise attacked her hearing from every angle. One by one, the voices of the loud ones faded. The mumbled babbling continued, a murmur as the words all mixed together. It wasn't so bad in terms of volume level--a murmur of white noise rather than an obnoxious roar--but the things that were said disturbed and confused her.
"Miss." A clearer, calmer voice broke through the others. A woman dressed conservatively stepped into Vartouhi's view. She stood outside of the cell, staring at the princess with a gravely stern expression. Vartouhi fidgeted, feeling vulnerable under her stare. "My name is Dr. Song. You may call me Dr. Hyemin if you prefer. I need to speak with you about the incident two days ago."
Vartouhi felt the bed tilt under her as if she were floating in water, having to lean against the wall to make the dizziness fade. "Two… two days? Incident?" She couldn't speak any louder than a timid squeak, afraid because she had no idea what was going on.
The doctor hummed and brought her hands out from behind her back, revealing a clipboard with forms stacked between the board and the clip. She scribbled something on the paper with a pen in her other hand. "Two days. You were unconscious for over a day there, on your bed. The other day you were being transported here. I need you to tell me about what happened before that."
Vartouhi shook her head. "Nothing… I… Nothing of much consequence comes to mind. The last day I am able to recall, I was wandering, looking for employment… I was turned down over and over and quickly becoming frustrated. And then this man propositioned me--he asked me to sleep with people for money, and give him a large percentage of the pay each time. I was… insulted. Afraid. Sad. Livid."
"And what did you do in response?" Her question startled Vartouhi, not because she didn't expect it or want to answer it, but because she realized she wasn't sure of her answer.
"I made it extremely clear that I am not that sort of woman nor will I ever be, and that he should return to the filthy underbelly of this world where only the scum of the world unfortunately breeds. He was not happy with my words, but I simply walked away. And then…" Vartouhi trailed off, licking her lips nervously.
"And then…?" Dr. Song encouraged dryly.
"Well… he appeared before me again, later. With comrades. They stared at me from across the street. I did not think much of it; perhaps he was just sore over what I'd said, and relating to them the event. That's what my thoughts were at the time. But then I noticed them showing up everywhere I wandered… At one point they were so close by that I was compelled to run, and they gave chase, and…" She paused, blinking dumbly. She couldn't remember what happened after that.
All her life, it was common that she had trouble remembering the details of conflict she encountered because she was too upset. She would only remember the gist, confuse the sequence of events, and be unable to recall specific turning points or important details. Recently, it was hard for her to remember what happened after conflict, as well. She usually ended up realizing she was somewhere else, and assumed she spaced out while wandering, getting herself totally lost. Sometimes she woke up in a strange place, and assumed she'd spaced out while wandering and simply went to sleep before she calmed down enough to realize her new location.
"…I… must have gone to bed, to force my mind to go quiet. In sleep you do not feel emotions or pain, you see, unless you dream, so I have made it a habit to sleep when I feel overwhelmed," she finally continued. Vartouhi was satisfied with her explanation, but Dr. Song didn't seem convinced.
For a long, long while, there was only the scratching of the pen across the paper. Then, Dr. Song finally sighed and adjusted her glasses as she spoke up, "It was reported that you set off some bomb in a largely populated area. It killed 19 people and injured another 21." Vartouhi's jaw dropped, eyes widened, and she began to tremble. "There was significant property damage as well. You attacked authorities when they tried to detain you. They reported that you said you 'had power they couldn't comprehend' and you were 'a superior being' and someday 'the wrath of your people would rain down on those who wronged you.'"
At this point, the princess was in tears, biting her lip to hold in any noises as they slid silently down her cheeks. "What's interesting, is there is no record of you. Over the last two days, we have had anonymous tips that someone with your description broke into their home and took their things or ate their food. Vendors of various clothing stores and food stands brought forth information that you stole from their businesses." Vartouhi could do nothing but look down, ashamed because she was very aware of that much, and remembered it very well--especially how all of it had been a conscious decision, and how she had stopped feeling guilty over it a while ago. She felt ashamed, like those transgressions led up to the incident Dr. Song had described.
"Your behavior now suggests remorse, disbelief, honesty, and extreme shyness, however. I think it is very possible that you have an alternate personality. Normally people with dissociative identity disorder are only harmful to themselves, not others, but it seems you are a rare case--a person with an alternate that is a sociopath with manic episodes of extremely violent, almost terrorist behavior." Dr. Song said it with such nonchalance, and yet Vartouhi was completely floored. The idea seemed so impossible to her, because she had only ever hurt anyone if she felt she had to in order to keep herself safe. That hadn't even happened while she'd been on Earth, yet.
She was silent while Dr. Song began into an explanation of the asylum (Vartouhi's stomach gave a sickly lurch at the word) and a treatment plan, and why she had to be detained here until she was deemed no longer a threat to society. The princess wasn't listening. She was lost in her memories. How many times had the world gone black around the edges when she lost control of her emotions as a child, and her powers reacted? How many times had she tried to use her powers for offensive or defensive combat, only to find her adrenaline practically wiped out her control? How many times after such incidents had she become irritable and withdrawn as a result, distancing herself from others to stew in her frustration to the point she would be tempted to break things in the forest?
She knew her fragile emotional state was a problem, and that it could lead to disastrous results if her powers became involved. She knew over the years she struggled with ways to release her feelings safely, before they became so bottled up that it blew up. She had absolutely no idea if that could lead to another personality forming to vent out all those frustrations and negative emotions. She didn't want to believe that was the case. Vartouhi wanted to think it was just her defect--her unstable powers she's had all her life, and something (possibly those men) had provoked her to the point she completely lost herself and the memory of it didn't transfer over because it was a traumatic situation. But she couldn't exactly explain any of that to a doctor who believed she was human, and she had used a bomb instead of simply manipulating molecules to directly cause explosive reactions. She wished she could tell her--wished the doctor could listen and help her. But there was no way that she could. Vartouhi knew it would just be better to remove herself from this planet, and seek therapy and training in Balah, if it still existed.
She interrupted Dr. Song, "I have a mental defect, yes, but I do not wish to believe my mind is burdened with such an illness." Heaving a guilt-ridden sigh, Vartouhi continued, "Under normal circumstances, I would accept whatever punishment or treatment was deemed appropriate for such horrendous words and actions." She could feel energy flowing through her. The sugar solution had flushed out the drugs, and the water gave her strength and mental focus back. Her eyes began to glow, the straitjacket unraveling as Vartouhi lifted up in the air with a shocked Dr. Song looking on. "Unfortunately, you cannot help me. If I am to be made well, it can only be done in my homeland, which I must locate. So, please understand that I am leaving because I am still searching for a way home."
The straitjacket fell to the ground. She blasted a hole into the cell wall and flew out of it, up to the ceiling and into the vents, where she wound her way through them to bust through the ceiling and into the sky.
She fled to the forest and dipped her feet in the fresh water of a creek, tears still quietly leaking out of her pensive eyes.
This had to change.
...
She would change.
[ ooc note; I'm tired of waiting around for a thread where Vartouhi realizes she's let herself go in terms of control over her powers. So, this is canon to her story. She will have been in news, but only with sketch artists' drawings from the police station. (They had to knock her out to detain her, which means no mugshots were taken, and it's also not asylum policy to do them when the patients have not woken and been evaluated to make sure they belong in the asylum and not the jail.) Muses are free to recognize her from the news, though I will say she steals her black wigs (finally!!) directly after this self para, so it's also just as okay for muses not to recognize her (and actually I'd prefer more of that and less of the first option, for now). ]
What if one thing you hoped for, wanted,
wished for.. came true?
Or rather, you could live out your desire and in the end
decide whether or not you’d like to c o n t i n u e ?
Everything comes with a cost. Your life, all your memories..
they’ll be gone with a single wish at Fantasy Island.
Congratulations.
You’ve won a one way ticket there.
Word count: 1557
She woke to the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, eyes opening to find land unfamiliar to her. Again.
Vartouhi wandered for two hours before she finally found the shore. She squinted, trying to spy another landmass out on the horizon, but all she found was ocean. She grit her teeth and refused to cry. There was saltwater everywhere; she couldn't afford to lose water over feeling sorry for herself. Her arms came up to wrap tightly around her stomach, shoulders hunching forward slightly, as if she could hold in the feeling of being kicked when she was down. She turned her back on the gleaming waves, unable to watch their rise and fall, like thousands of mouths laughing at her, taunting her.
You’ll never go home.
Sand gave way to soil. She abandoned palm trees for the giant kapoks and balsas. Eyes glowing, she hopped gently up onto a high branch, and then another, and another, until she could peer over the canopy. The clearings weren't as obvious as she'd hoped, but one spot surrounded by younger foliage looked promising. Vartouhi lifted off the branch and began to fly that way.
She felt the presence of fresh water before she saw it. The air cooled as she neared, and she could see warped light dancing on the undersides of the leaves. When she touched down and looked about to survey the area, there was one thing she didn't expect.
A woman stood in the water a little ways away from the edge of the spring, looking at Vartouhi as if she were a gift. Vartouhi quickly averted her eyes; she was shy, but more importantly, all of the woman's lovely tanned skin was exposed to the air. She heard the splashing of water against (shapely) legs and it made her curious to look again. The next thing she knew, a wet hand pressed to the back of her neck and pulled, and her lips met the woman's. Her thin almond eyes were closed, but Vartouhi's went wide with bewilderment, and once the shock wore off, she quickly stepped back.
Her hair reminded Vartouhi of sunshine filtering through leaves, so golden and pretty. When she opened her eyes, she beamed at the princess, cheeks lifting and making the diamond shape of her face more prominent. "I'hlaya~" Her voice was silvery and charming, but rather than endeared, Vartouhi was even more astonished, blinking owlishly. The girl came forward with arms held out to receive her, but Vartouhi quickly pressed her hands on the girl's shoulders to stop her.
"You are not of Balah-- Why do you know this word?" the princess questioned.
"I am not from your home, it's true, but I know many things." Vartouhi's jaw dropped at the answer. She'd spoken it in perfect Balahyan.
Vartouhi switched to her native tongue, testing her, "What do you mean? What do you know?"
She watched as the other lifted into the air, though she had to look away once the girl reached a certain height, cheeks pink. "I have a gift, to see anything I please." She spun quickly before Vartouhi could respond, waving her hand in a swift arch. Water spurted from the lake, lifting and falling in an arch as well, and remained there, little particles of mist falling to the surface in a continuous, moving sheet. Images appeared in the mist and Vartouhi's eyes widened again as she saw herself--sleeping, walking, bathing (her face burned redder), everything.
When the woman turned again, her smile was mysterious, and she giggled as if very pleased with herself to confuse Vartouhi. "But I found myself using my gift to watch you, more and more." She lowered back down and came closer, the princess stepping back to keep space between them. "And now you are here. It is fate that we are brought together. It is a sign. I am for you, and you are for me."
Vartouhi's brows furrowed, puzzled. "You speak my language yet I do not understand what you say."
"You feel it yourself, do you not? I know you. You do not tear your eyes away from a beautiful figure--you let them linger. Yet you cannot keep your eyes on me. Don't you wonder why?" Vartouhi chanced a glance at her as she mentioned it, but quickly looked away again, frowning as she tried to figure it out.
"It's complicated. Glancing at you as I have been, I feel this warmth come over me, and I feel like coming closer to you and..." Vartouhi trailed off, eyes wandering back to the strange girl to let the feeling come over her, so she could properly describe it. "...and keeping you close to me forever. It scares me. I do not know you. Why should I want that?"
"Doesn't it sound like love at first sight, to you?" The princess's heart fluttered, and she opened her mouth to reply, but the woman smiled sweetly and stepped close to wind her arms around Vartouhi's waist, cutting her off. "It is a shallow form of love, but I have seen our potential life together in the mist, and I know you will come to love me as I do you, should you accept me."
Vartouhi's heart thudded in her chest. The woman smiled knowingly, leaning forward, and Vartouhi leaned back, making sure to keep her hands off the other. "Maurus would kill you, and..." Her heart beat even harder as she realized how much the idea upset her--more than normal. Her hands automatically pressed to the woman's back, fingers curling to desperately cling to her.
The mist shimmered. The image depicted Maurus turning, a sword coming down on the crook of his neck, and then a coffin lowering into a grave. "He is no more. Do not let him torture your heart any longer, my love." Vartouhi tensed up as the woman smoothed a hand over her pink hair, cupped her cheek, and softly pressed their lips together again. As the seconds ticked by, Vartouhi's fingers flattened against the other’s warm skin, her eyes fluttered shut, and she tipped her head to deepen the kiss.
But that night, after long hours of conversation and laughter, closeness and comfort, pleasure and passion--Vartouhi was curled up with her, carding her fingers through the other's hair. She thought of how very strangely happy she felt, and remembered something her sister Lusine told her long ago.
"Love is the cure for all needs." Lusine's smile was gentle as she said it.
But Kohar barked out a laugh. "I don’t know about that. In regards to my most frequent and pressing of needs, I don't think love can top the skilled fingers of that musician."
Lusine's face flushed pink. "If you're with someone you love when you do those things, it’s even better."
"Oh, and you'd know, Miss I'm-waiting-for-the-one?" Raisa chimed in as she sat backwards in her chair, grinning cheekily.
"If Siran were here, she'd tell you all I’m right."
"I wonder how love is supposed to cover the basic need for food..." Anoush pondered aloud, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated teasing.
Albena snorted. "Easy. Fall for a chef!"
The room filled with laughter--even Lusine's. Vartouhi's heart warmed as she thought that Lusine was wrong. She decided family was the cure for all needs.
Her chest tightened at the memory. She listened to the wind rustling through the trees, and the other sounds of the night. Distantly, she could hear the ocean. It reminded her how very alone they were on this island--"an oasis just for you and I," the girl next to her had said earlier. Vartouhi's hand slowly slid out of the woman's hair, and she untangled herself from the other to lie flat on her back and stare at the stars.
What if they were still alive? She thought as she closed her eyes against the sting of tears. It was true that since she was a child, Lusine's storybooks and rosy daydreams made her long for romance--a yearning that endured even today. Vartouhi wasn't sure she could feel complete with just a partner, however. No friends to make new memories with? No relatives to relive old memories together? No children to raise while they begin collecting memories of their own? Sure, there would be warmth at her immediate side, but wouldn't the emptiness surrounding the rest of her be terribly cold and lonely?
If someone was going to hold her hand for the rest of her life, she wanted to walk with them in a world encased in the warmth of a complete family.
Vartouhi turned her head to look down at their laced hands, and she slowly slipped her fingers out of the other's, taking her hand away to tuck under her cheek as she rolled onto her side to sleep.
She woke to the sound of a truck driving by, eyes opening to find a park just beyond the trees, and the city in the background.
Vartouhi thought of the beautiful woman and sighed heavily in an attempt to rid herself of the dull ache in her heart.
A white rabbit watched the princess stand and walk to the city, ears perking up in interest.
"Your sister was right to say you're stronger than you know."
The click of the pistol’s hammer wakes you.
A velvety voice lilts out of your vision,
“Give me a good one liner and I just may let you live.”
You can see two of your friends hiding
outside the door, signaling to you that they
are working on saving you.
What do you tell the nice lady?
Word count: 888
The ringing in her ears nearly drowned out the woman’s words. It took Vartouhi a moment of blinking blearily to comprehend what was said, eyes adjusting to the bright lighting of the room. She wasn’t familiar with Earth weapons, but she knew whatever noise stirred her to consciousness, it must have been the readying of some way to murder her. Her eyes widened as she quickly realized the cause of the pounding in her head; she was hanging upside-down from the ceiling. Thick ropes wound tightly around her body, layered over and over, to encase her in almost a rope cocoon, with only her neck and head unbound. When the princess pressed her arms and legs against the ropes to break free, it didn’t budge, her Balahyan strength useless when the ropes burned so painfully against her skin that she couldn’t bear to try anymore.
The woman barked out a laugh that bounced off the walls of the room, ringing painfully and drawing a grimace from Vartouhi. "Only wisely-chosen words will save you. I’m sure with all the blood rushing to your head, it’s hard enough for you to think as it is, isn’t it? Save your strength for thinking over what you will say."
Vartouhi stared at the open doorway, trying to will the intense pounding in her head to stop. It was then that she noticed the tip of a finger peeking out from behind the doorframe. As the woman walked around her in a tight enough circle that the princess couldn’t catch sight of her face, two faces popped out from behind the doorframe, mouthing things like "Hold on," and "We’ll get you out of here."
Her face burned with the blood in her cheeks and she felt lightheaded, stomach giving a nervous little flip as they disappeared behind the doorframe just in time. She didn’t want them to try to save her. Surely this woman would just kill them, as well. Or worse—what if this woman made Vartouhi watch as she hurt them?
Vartouhi sucked in a tense breath as she receded into her mind. The sound of ceramic and skull cracking in unison. Solid thuds, over and over, as wheezes of pain turn into keening cries and then into gurgles as blood comes up and spills red over tan skin. A menacing voice commanding her to watch. Pain in her knuckles as she gripped the sides of a chair tightly. All of these fragments of memories rushed back to her at the thought and she shivered in her bindings, eyes flickering into a glowing white without her even noticing.
"I have no plea of mercy to give you, as I barely have the words to will myself to keep living, and perhaps under different circumstances I would ask that you put me out of my misery, but unfortunately those circumstances are not met, and I refuse to become or be given more material for nightmares."
And just like that, the glow of her eyes brightened until it blinded her. She heard the gun go off but never felt the bite of a bullet. Instead she felt her hair whipping about her face and the bindings stretch on her form. She heard the woman screech and then a solid thud, followed by another, and then one coupled with a squishing and dull cracking, then another with louder cracking and a wet sound. Vartouhi could feel her cocoon swinging in a circle, until finally the rope suspending her snapped, and all of the ropes unwound from her in moments.
The light in her eyes finally began to dim. She watched as the ropes came into focus, writhing in the air around her levitating form. Once she touched down, she let the ropes drop, and when they were no longer blocking her vision, her hands flew to her mouth to hold in a cry of surprise, eyes widening.
The room was splattered with blood on the walls, ceiling, and floor. She began to shake as her eyes took in every stain, and she turned slowly, flinching at the sight of a mangled body in the corner of the room—distinctly feminine. Vartouhi quickly turned away from it, feeling sick to her stomach.
"…Touhi—"
He spoke her name with such disbelief. As she turned to look at her friends, she found them both in stances of apprehension, their eyes looking at her with fear.
The world around her crumbled away, the pieces sliding forward around her feet to reassemble as a mirror where the doorway once stood.
She watched in horror as the mirror came together piece-by-piece, revealing the malicious, lopsided smirk and leering green eyes of her fiancé, opening his mouth the same time she opened hers, hands clenching into fists in unison with hers, a cackle leaving his throat as a scream ripped from hers.
In the darkness of the empty apartment, Vartouhi shot up and to the side so swiftly that she tossed herself out of the bed she’d snuck into for the night. As the pain of colliding with the floor roused her into a more alert state, she realized it was all a terrible nightmare, but her eyes watered and face crumpled into anguish anyway, curling in on herself to take in a deep breath and begin sobbing.
The world you live in is essentially the same.. present day, same technologies.. except everybody lives in castles and is trying to work their way up to knighthood (including women). Detail a typical day in your life.
Do as you are told and do not disobey orders. No students are allowed out of the castle after the designated hour...
This is only one of the rules that having grown up in the castle, Chanyeol is not only bound by blood but by honor to follow on a daily basis, and more realistically, the rest of his life. If he wanted to achieve his knighthood that is.
Chanyeol holds a hand out in front of himself, his fingers shake slightly and he wills himself to calm down. No one will recognize you like this, he murmurs under his breath as he runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the brown locks even more. He stops for a moment to re-shoulder the guitar strapped securely to his back and then he continues to walk along the deserted pathway. He casts a glance over his shoulder periodically just to make he isn't being followed. It's not that he isn't used to sneaking out practically every other night, but he can't shake the feeling that he's being watched tonight.
"Chanyeol, you’re late, you know?"
An arm wraps around his shoulders the moment he enters the venue, and it causes him to stagger a bit. He laughs before he shoves the arm off his shoulders and the other male fakes a hurt expression.
"I’m so hurt right now. Wow, is this is how you treat a lead singer?"
Chanyeol reaches with the intent to put him in a headlock, but the lead singer dodges his arms and goes and hides behind another male that has his arms crossed. He gives the both of them looks.
"Ben's right and we've got a show to do so hurry up and get ready." Chanyeol nods his head. Though Minseok sounded harsh, he knows that the other is just very serious when it came to music but this doesn't stop him from giving Ben a playful shove before he follows after Minseok onto the stage.
It only takes him a couple of minutes to set up the guitar and to adjust his mic just right. Minseok is already ready and Ben stands behind his mic, fiddling with the bracelet on his right arm.
He catches Minseok's eye and nods. Shortly after, Minseok begins to play a beat on the drums and Chanyeol positions his fingers on the neck of his bass and follows up the beat. Their lead singer— Ben, follows soon after, closing his eyes and begins to sing.
His voice is soft and crowd is instantly hypnotized. Chanyeol plays his notes flawlessly and though he usually doesn't make it a habit to look into the crowd for some reason he looks up and he makes eye contact with the last person he'd like to see in the crowd-- his mentor. Chanyeol misses a couple of beats, Minseok shots him a look and even Ben who usually gets lost in the music opens his eyes to glance curiously in his direction. Chanyeol quickly gets back on beat and fortunately the crowd doesn’t seem too bothered by his mistake, though he’s certain he’ll receive an earful from Minseok after.
They close out the song beautifully and the crowd cheers. Ben does his usual bout of fanservice but Chanyeol unplugs his guitar from the amp, and then quickly walks off stage, slinging the guitar back to his back as he does so. Usually he'd stay behind to help clean up and pack, but tonight he brushes past Minseok with a "I'm sorry, I've got to go." before he exists the venue.
He feels as if his heart is slamming itself against his chest as he follows his usual route back to the castle. What is usually a 30 minute walk, he turns into a 20 minute run and he climbs the stone gate of the castle with nimble speed and then sneaks back into his own room. Everything is dark and quiet but it doesn't take long before a light to his room turns on suddenly. His mentor stands in the doorway and stares disapprovingly at him.
He realizes that he's still clad in ripped skinny jeans and a black v-neck shirt His usual attire for when he goes out to play instead of catching up on much needed rest.
"Chanyeol..." His mentor begins, "We have much to discuss."
Chanyeol nods. He has always known that he would be caught eventually, so he doesn't protest. He swallows while contemplating on if he should or should not leave his guitar which is still strapped safely to his back but he ultimately decides on keeping it with him-- if he gets kicked out of the castle then he doesn't want to leave it behind.
As he follows his mentor down a large hall. His heart is still beating frantically in his chest as he thinks. He doesn't want years he's spent training in order to obtain a knighthood to go to waste. He looks at the familiar portraits that are hung up on the wall as he walks. He's grown up in the castle and knows it better than he knows himself and now that he's in danger of losing it all he wonders-- was it worth it? He stares at his mentors back and he wonders where he'll be after tonight. would he be forgiven for disobeying important rules? would everything he's ever trained for be in vain? Chanyeol takes a deep breath and fingers the strap of his guitar, oddly, this small gesture gives him courage to face the consequences of his actions. If he had the option to do it all over again he'd say yes in a heart beat.
