marinadiamandis: @Bose came to visit me at home in my studio. We talked about introversion, (trying) to grow vegetables 🌱 and my next album . 🎹🎧 Watch the full video via the link in my stories.
Clint opened his eyes blearily and felt the panic sink into his bones in the second that followed. They were ambushed. The intel was wrong and there were so much more hostiles than they anticipated. It was 30 to 1, and there were only 5 of them. They didn’t stand a chance.
He pushed himself off of the surface he was lying on and felt someone’s hand on his chest, steadying and calming him all at the same time.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s me. It’s Phil. You’re in the med bay now.”
Clint felt himself relax as he listened to Phil. He eased himself back down on the bed and looked at the man beside his cot. Phil gave him a soft nod and gave him a play by play of the events after Clint passed out.
Clint’s team fought admirably and stood their ground long enough for back-up to respond. SHIELD managed to capture most of the hostiles and the ones that weren’t were either dead or too severely injured to have gone far. The four other people in Clint’s team are alive. Beaten, and bloody, some worse than the others, but alive.
Phil rambled on about the procedure for filling out the report for this since it was going to be especially challenging for Clint to write with a broken wrist. Clint listened to him without actually registering anything in his brain, and he smiled to himself.
“...or speech to text but that’s not really reliable— What’s so funny?” Phil asked.
Clint shrugged as far as he could, “Nothing,” he replied with a smile, his eyes slowly slipping shut again. “S’just nice that your voice is the first thing I hear today” His painkiller addled brain supplied.
There was silence for a moment too long and Clint was forced to open his eyes again to see what was wrong. He peeked at Phil, and as soon as their eyes met, Phil looked away and cleared his throat.
“Right. I should check on the others. Your team, I mean. See if they’re awake.” Phil went on as he shuffled his things together and headed for the door.
Clint felt horrible. Did he say something wrong again? Why was Phil in a hurry to leave? Couldn’t Phil just stay a little bit longer?
“I’ll- I’ll come back. Later. I’ll keep you company. But I have to check on the others first.” Phil told him. Guess Clint was speaking his thoughts out loud now. “I promise I won’t be long.”
Clint nodded, feeling himself drift to sleep not a minute later. It’s okay though because he knows that when he wakes up, Phil will be there.
sorry for the random liveblogging in the middle of all this chaos but purpled just killed a bedwars player who was in the middle of making a heart and was like "oh. i'll finish it" before proceeding to make the ugliest heart ever
The acidic scent of lemon lies so heavy in the air, Chaerin is certain she’ll smell it for weeks. Mixed with the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, she’s not certain she’ll ever get rid of the smell or the taste ever again. How long has it been? She could have sworn it’s been days since they first strapped her down to the shiny metallic chair and told her to “hang on tight” whatever that meant.
She of course found out they meant pay attention. They stimulated torture in the most vivid of ways. Their instructions were clear. Do not crack under pressure or she’ll be quite sorry. At the beginning of the session three others were with her, now Chaerin was the only one that remained. The others cracked some time ago and had indeed paid the price for their failure. Truthfully, it is stubbornness that keeps Chaerin from opening her mouth more than anything. She knows they want her to crack. She knows that the instigator of her torture loathes her and her constant foul mouth, he wanted nothing more than to see her break and she would not give him the satisfaction She would rather die..
An outcome that is quite likely should things continue as they are.
Hours ago they had gone for a frontal approach, beating her into submission, blindfolding her and attempting sexual assault--which ended up in Chaerin getting her legs tied down as well after she kicked a guard in the face. They even attempted waterboarding to no avail. Now their tactics were a little more subdued. All along her arm and legs, thin cuts into her skin are made and with each refusal or “wrong” answer, the cut was made deeper and deeper. Occasionally they’d pour a lemon mixture over the wound, just giggles, and around the chair as well to clean up the floor. For the first few hours it actually hurt, but eventually her body grew dull to the pain.
So they changed it up yet again. Salt seemed to be the prefered option but Chaerin is fairly certain she won’t be able to get the smell of lemons out of her nose for months. After this, they leave her alone for a while--an hour to be exact-- and the guard that comes in surprises her. She hasn’t seen him since she tried to choke him three weeks ago and a sudden sense of dread freezes up her spine.
“Ah little Chaerinnie, it’s been a while. How are you?” She resists the urge to spit on his face. He seems to read her desire in her expression and chuckles. “That good huh? Well, you know who's having a worse day than you?” She doesn’t grace him with an answer which only seems to amuse him even more. “Does the name Hyunsik ring any bells? Lee Hyunsik?”
It takes nearly a full minute to realize that yes she does know that name and he’s referring to her brother. Immediately she lurches forward in her seat, only for the shackles to hold her back just enough from tearing him apart. He laughs and pulls out a smart phone. Moving to stand behind her, he shows her the little screen where she sees her brother being dropped into what seems to be ice cold water over and over again. Each time he manages to swim up, an electric shock stuns his movements and he falls back into the water again. He seems to be saying something, but she can’t make out what it is. “You’ve been giving him too much hope you know with your silly songs. It’s hard to make a warrior when they aren’t broken. This, this right here is all your fault Chaerin. Your defiance will be his death.” He pauses and grabs a handful of her hair. “Unless of course you promise to tell us exactly what we want. Be a good girl now Rinnie.”
Chaerin in a fit of rage, thrashes about and manages to head butt him and actually make her chair fall over. Using this moment of surprise, she pulls violently at her restraints until she manages to break the chair with a strength she didn’t know she possessed. Jumping on the guard, she punched him square in the nose and looked at the phone’s screen again.
She recognized that place.
With a deep growl, Chaerin grabbed his set of keys and went to open the door. As soon as she managed to get it open, she was greeted with three guards running towards her with batons at the ready to taze her. In her blind rage, she doesn’t care. Instead she shoots past them, breaking through their group with relative ease. This doesn’t stop them from trying to grab her however, and two remain hot on her heels as she makes her way through the corridors. They call for backup, but it means very little to her with her newfound strength and resilience, she refuses to let anything stand in her way.
Her sides and legs burn as she continues running but she doesn’t come to a stop until one finally manages to intercept her and shoot her with a bolt of electricity. Chaerin crumbles to her knees, her body shaking as several guards pounce on her. Still, she tries her best to fight them off, screaming her brother’s name. Only the image of him being shot with electricity gives her a boost of adrenaline that assists her in getting away from the guards just before they inject her with a tranquilizer.
When she reaches the room in question, she bangs her fists somewhat helplessly against the steel door, her fists making small dents and the impact breaking the skin on her hands. Still screaming his name, she starts to slam her whole body against the door until finally it gives way and she falls forward. Groaning, she shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the intense pain racking her body with no avail. With some effort, she pulls herself up and finds the one guard in the room, staring at her in shock. The button in his hand makes her blood boil.
“What are you doing he--” Chaerin rushes forward and tackles him into the water. With a bit of struggle, she knocks him against the side, managing to make him pass out. Resurfacing, she takes a deep breath, looking around for her brother. Finding him nowhere, she takes another breath and dives under again. Swimming down to the bottom of the tank, she manages to pull him up with great effort and drags him on to dry land.
“Hyunsik? Hyunsik? Oh god, please don’t do this to me!” She coughs and tries to remember the little bit of CPR she was taught when they were younger. Not even sure if she’s performing it right, she doesn’t care but desperately tries her best. Quickly however it unravels into her merely slamming her palm against his chest, her vision blurring with salty tears. “Not my little brother, not my little brother!” Weakly, she lays on top of Hyunsik, desperately clinging to his shirt as she does so.
Vaguely she is aware of the sound of marching feet approaching her, but she doesn’t care. They could shoot her in the back and she wouldn’t care. With Hyunsik’s final breath, all her real attachment to this world vanished like smoke. Let them take her. Let them toy with her mind. What mattered anymore? Sobs continued to rack her body as she mumbled a butchered version of the lullaby she sang to him their first night in the facility. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.
Every time she blinked, visions of Hyunsik falling into that freezing water plague her. If she could have broken free just a minute sooner. If she wasn’t so anxious to fight her way through this place. If she was more complacent, perhaps they wouldn’t have targeted him. Perhaps if he had a better big sister, he would still be alive right then.Shivering, she curls herself around him and wheezes back her sobs. It didn’t matter now, her reckless behavior ended up getting the only person that mattered in her life killed.
Jaesoon was right, attachment is a dangerous venture.
Yelling is all around her. Combat boots stomp and break her illusion of solitude but she barely pays them any mind. Even as the voices yell at her to get up, to follow orders like the soldier she is supposed to be. Still, she continues to sing the song, crying and clinging to the body of her brother who is still somehow warm. If she could focus she would notice the strange thrum of energy in her body, enough to fight off every assailant that would dare to touch her. But her body is too tired and her spirit too broken to recognize the first stage of what would be her greatest transformation.
Really it didn’t matter, without Hyunsik she didn’t care about anything.
One brave soul finally tries to pull her from his body. He is throw into the water with ease and she falls back to her brother, still clinging desperately. “Don’t touch him! Don’t touch him! Leave him alone!” She howls, coughing and choking on her own emotions. They of course do not listen to her pleas. It takes three to finally pull her off and away from her brother, and another to inject her with a tranquilizer to stop her fighting.
She fights the serum for every second, her bleary eyes taking in his cold body, her mind preserving the way he was while under the water. Failure weighed so heavy on her she felt that she might be crushed under it’s weight. But no longer able to move against her foes, she lets them drag her away from her only family and deep into the facility.
Three stories up and in a part of the building she has never been to before, they take her to a small room. And in this small room is a a large jar like contraption, large enough to fit one person inside and have them spread out just a bit and perhaps sit up comfortably. It has only enough holes to breath and a slot to deliver food to, otherwise it is completely black. One person opens it up and a guard removes her shackles, only to replace it with new ones that connect to chains on the prison she hadn’t noticed. Throwing her inside, she doesn’t even bother to turn around and glare at them, still not even sure if she could move her body.
“Well Chaerin, if you want to rejoin your fellow Athena projects I suppose you’ll just have to find a way to get out of here. And no, an axe won’t help you out with this one.” He laughs as if he just told some sort of private joke she’s expected to get. Chaerin barely pays attention, only whimpering as her tears finally start to slow down. She could die in there for all she cared.
As they close the door of the jar with tears still streaking down her face three things are certain. She is braver than she thought, bolder than most and completely broken.
To her utmost surprise, no guards came to disturb her or her brother as she sang him to sleep every night. Perhaps they wanted to build up hope before breaking them down completely. But what is even more surprising, is how they have yet to take Chaerin to see anyone else. Her “conditioning” has solely taken place in her room. There is still drying blood on the walls to prove their thoroughness in their approach.
Years later Chaerin would recognize this as an effective psychological strategy--they were making her feel unsafe in the place she is meant to rest. Forcing her adrenaline to be at high levels almost constantly as well as raise her cortisol levels beyond what should be healthy. At first however, all it does is concern her and raise her anxiety for one thing only--her brother. He is taken away for most of the day and brought back at night by the same laughing, unimpressed guards.
This carries on for a week. Or is it two? Chaerin is starting to lose track, there aren’t any windows in her cell and she cannot tell the time. Any attempt to see a watch on a guard is useless and she doesn’t even bother asking them anything. Her first two days she nearly made herself hoarse as she demanded answers but was only met with fresh cuts, bruises and harshly whispered threats to mar her pretty face in all kinds of ways. Now, she spends most of her energy not with words but with actions, constantly clawing and biting at her captors, daring them to try and take her with force.
It is only after two weeks and she’s been sufficiently drugged that they finally drag her from her room. She tries to be coherent, to take in the facility as a whole, but the world spins around her and all she can see are white walls and laughing demon like faces. To this day, she can only remember the voices of the guards that led her down that path straight into her only solace and her greatest hell.
Years seemed to crawl by before she is finally thrown into a large room, the impact of her body crashing to the floor echoing in the seemingly empty space. A thin layer of grime covers everything in this large room without mercy and without bias. There are but three small windows situated at the ceiling, letting in only thin bands of light from their dirty panes. Her ears ring and body aches, and it takes her several minutes to realize there are other voices in the room. Dull, muttering tones of slightly confused and flustered voices, both feminine and masculine. No one dares to approach the new face however and Chaerin is left cold and nervous until she looks up.
There she finds six other faces, four males and two females from their appearance. They sit close together, without restraints. Their eyes seem to bore straight through Chaerin, digging deep into her soul and pulling back years of built up layers and restrictions. Somehow, Chaerin cannot force herself to look away and even finds comfort in the starring--some are even looking at her with sympathy. A few she dares to say even look healthy. Somehow.
One steps forward, he is fairy tall, lanky with pitch black hair that falls on his head in messy waves. He dares a smile when one of the others speaks to him. “Jaesoon, shouldn’t we wait?” The voice is nervous, fluttering but somehow still sweet and Chaerin realizes it comes from a boy who looks much younger than her--his eyes glassy as if he’s looking at something far away.
The one to stepped forward--Jaesoon--silently laughs, his shoulders shaking as he does so. There is mirth in the way he smiles now and Chaerin finds herself unable to look away from him and his gaze doesn’t stray from her either. “If they’re raising me to be a general then I will not wait like a dog.” He speaks his defiance easily, as if he knows there aren’t cameras or microphones in the room watching and listening to their every move. The other doesn’t protest any longer and even seems relieved by Jaesoon’s words. Without any further arguments from the others, Jaesoon walks over with slow, measured steps to Chaerin.
Unsure of what to do, Chaerin manages to pulls herself up to her knees and watches with wide eyes until Jaesoon stops in front of her and kneels down. Up close, his gaze is still intimidating, his eyes clear and bright, as if he carried some universal truth in them. “What’s your name?”
“Chaerin,” she mumbles with sudden self consciousness.
He doesn’t seem to mind or pretends not to notice. “Well Chaerin, welcome to the think tank. I’m Jaesoon, I’m not sure how long we’ll have till they give us our next orders but I wanted to introduce myself.” He pauses as if weighing something difficult in his mind, chewing on his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. “I wanted to let you know we’re not bad guys before the training starts.”
“Training?”
His eyes gloss over, although he is looking at Chaerin, she knows his mind is elsewhere. “A general must go through the most extensive of training. How can a leader afraid of pain and loss lead an army?” His words are robotic, without care or thought, as if he has said those lines over and over again to the point they almost lose meaning. Then, in an instant, he blinks and the glossy look disappears. “They’re going to try and make you hate us, don’t let them win, okay?” It takes Chaerin a minute to realize he is waiting for confirmation from her and when she realizes it she nods quickly. “Good. And remember,” he hesitates then places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly, “you are Chaerin. Not Athena. Despite what they’ll tell you over and over again.”
All Chaerin can do is manage another small nod as she fears her voice betraying her nervousness and uncertainty. Still, the other sees something in her that he approves of and he nods, then stands and offers his hand to her. Somehow she feels...okay?
This does not last for long.
When the other had mentioned that the doctors would try to make her hate everyone in the room, she hadn’t realized the intensity of it until the training truly began.
Each of them are dragged in different directions by their own cell mates, no one daring to protest or scream for help. As if they have accepted their fate. Chaerin wants to scream, she wants to claw her way out, but Jaesoon’s words still her. Her curiosity gets the better of her.
One of the girls, Hyerin who Chaerin decides is very beautiful in the delicate sort of way, is made to lead her to a bath of ice water. There, Chaerin is thrown in--still clothed--and held underwater for until she begins to thrash about. When she is brought up, the light is blinding, her body is shivering and she realizes Hyerin is the one who pushed her in. Just as she can barely catch her breath, she realizes that the doctor on the side is asking her a question. When she doesn’t answer in a timely manner--mostly because her ears are still ringing--she is forced into the water again.
This continues on for what seems like days but in reality is a few hours. The questions grow increasingly aggressive as time drags on. Things such as, “Who is it you serve?” and, “What is your duty to this facility?” Those are how it begins before changing to questions of the world, seeking answers to philosophical ideas Chaerin has never heard of in her life. A few she manages to sputter out between chattering teeth but it does her little good other than to give her an additional few seconds to catch her breath.
This is their first lesson of grace under pressure. Initiation by fire or in this case ice cold water.
When her body is too cold to even react anymore, they pull her out of the bath and onto the floor, shivering and desperate for some sort of comfort. She isn’t foolish enough to wish for it however, realizing that instead she must endure whatever is to come next if she is to get any answers from the others. That is the only thing that keeps her mind safe in that moment.
“You went too soft on her Hyerin. There is no room for pity in this military. Be a dear and allow the guards to take you to the correction room.”
Chaerin is barely able to register Hyerin’s violent disapproval, kicking at the guards and clawing her way free. One guard is actually sent through a wall and Chaerin watches in shock and mild horror. So this is what they are doing to people then? Turning them into super soldiers? What will she turn in to? There isn’t much time for Chaerin to think about this, before she is dragged bt a guard to a cage.
Thrown inside, her body hits the steel bars with a clang and she crumples to the ground in a boneless heap. Whatever reprieve she was hoping for doesn’t come. Instead the sound of something dragging on the ground reaches her ears, and just as she looks up, she gets a face full of scalding water. Turning sharply, she howls in pain while someone yells at her to keep quiet, to learn grace under pressure, to not let them see how much something hurts her.
It doesn’t work.
When they stop, her skin is burning, welts are all over her body and it feels as though she will never catch her breath. Wheezing, coughing and sputtering, they take her to another room where she is promised the punishments will be less harsh, where she will “learn” and grow as Athena, as the new prodigy of the division. The room they lead her to is almost like a classroom, with a white board and desks. She is chained next to the boy who had spoken out to Jaesoon earlier. Now that she’s able to get a good look at him, she sees the burns on his arms, the scarring on his face. Despite this he looks unaffected by the fresh blood on his clothes and stares defiantly at their “teacher” who stands at the front of the room.
“I’m Hyunwoo,” he mutters to her as the guards fiddle with something at the front desk, “whatever you do, don’t show sympathy for me.” Is all he manages to say to her.
Chaerin has little time to think. She is strapped to her chair and has electrodes taped down to her skin. There is no explanation given, but for each time she gets an answer wrong--which is often--the teacher flips a switch and it feels as if her muscles are contracting in on themselves, shriveling up like death. At first, she doesn’t follow Hyunwoo’s advice. Whenever he answers a question wrong, which is significantly less than her, she protests his treatment which results in the switch being flipped on her as well. It takes her until halfway through the four hour session to learn her place.
By the time she is returned to the large room, the slivers of sun have long since disappeared and the room feels colder than before. She would realize later they would turn the temperature up and down at will in order to gauge their reactions. At least she is not alone in her broken and beaten feeling, even Jaesoon returns with bright splotches of purple all over his skin and freshly dried blood on his clothes.
The girl from before, Hyerin, shuffles over to Chaerin and whispers broken apologies to which Chaerin can only respond with apologies as well. She swears that next time she’ll answer the questions better, that she’ll endure it better. Hyerin seems surprised by the resilience of the newest member of their group and asks if she’s experienced the change yet. Chaerin’s surprise is the only answer she needs.
Weeks pass in this manner. Chaerin only knows through Eunji, the other girl with a bright smile and warm aura. She possesses the fascinating ability to see the world in numbers--she knows every number right down to the millisecond, it disturbs Chaerin at first but she soon comes to rely on it. And Eunji is not the only one.
Hyerin possesses near perfect human condition, her body in peak physical form at all times despite the malnourished life they endured. Hyunwoo is able to quell others at the mere sound of his voice and Jaesoon has a highly strategic mind, more so that the rest. The other girl Yull, has the remarkable ability of telekinesis though the transformation costed her vision in one eye. And the final of the circle, Hyunseong is the most startling, his ability to read minds and communicate with telepathy terrifies Chaerin the first time it happens. It apparently developed when they cut off his tongue for slander. If that isn’t the biggest fuck you to the system that Chaerin has seen in months, she doesn’t know what is.
Despite what the facility wants, they all remain close to one another in their own way. They aren’t a particularly affectionate group but brief touches on the shoulder mean so much more than hugs and other affection to them. They have to be careful, anyone who shows too much attachment is reprimanded harshly--by one of them in return. Chaerin has already been made at threat of death to whip Jaesoon back into submission when he swings at a guard for an insult.
She’s not sure if he actually forgives her or not.
Though if he doesn’t the favor is often returned. Chaerin never stops asking about her brother or trying to get away for just one minute to try and find him. It’s nearly killed her once or twice and still her mutation doesn’t show. Still her body refuses the transformation into the imitation of the grey eyed goddess.
Still, she makes new attachments, particularly with Hyerin and Jaesoon who are closest to her in age. Two escape attempts are made by the group but only end up serving as “lessons” to create better plans and strategies. The facility has no idea what they are creating. It is no surprise then when after a month, Hyerin is suddenly taken from the group for failure to answer all the questions on their latest “exam” right. Only a gripped hand on the back of her shirt stops Chaerin from lashing out.
The doctor that oversees all of them more often than not stops in a few hours after Hyerin is taken away. “Now children, what did we say about performance?”
It takes the crackling of a taser to get everyone to stand at attention and answer the question in dull unison. “Anything less than perfect is expendable.”
He smiles wickedly, yellow, cracked teeth showing. “Very good. You will have combat drills at 0400 hours. At ease.” The door slams behind him with a deafening clang and no one dares to move or even breathe until his footsteps fade away.
