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Post by Cain on Nov 10, 2010 1:19:08 GMT -5
The man squinted at the object before him. It was made of a white, smooth and seamless substance. He was unsure of the nature of the material. But that didn’t matter, for he knew how the object was worked. It twisted in on itself, it had no beginning, no end and no imperfections.
There was one flaw, but it wasn’t a flaw, not really. It was a calculated part of the design. He took a deep breath and pricked his thumb with the needle lying on the table. How much of his blood had that huge needle seen? Too much. Blood ran down the ball of his thumb, but did not escape that plateau. He carefully placed the bloody thumb on the planned imperfection that was not an imperfection. He placed the thumb and said the words.
They were terrible, terrible words, ancient as the northwind, dark as the deep abyss. They tore from him in a ragged scream, a yell. A shout that tore the fabric of reality itself, bent the magic of the world to its own whim. He rode the scream, the scream of all that was in the world rejecting the wrongness, the foulness that now polluted it. It was a dark time in history.
Finally he released the spell, on the verge of collapse. Cursebreaker, they had named him. Brother, they had called him. Sibling. Breaker of Curses, Destroyer of Darkness. Scion of the House. He was none of these things, no longer. He was a husk of a man, a mere shell.
He lived to his name. The Betrayer. Murderer. Son of Darkness. They all meant one thing, one word. Words were so simple, yet so strong. One word, one meaning.
Cain.
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Post by Minister Jack Harkness on Nov 11, 2010 23:13:45 GMT -5
The man behind the glass collapsed, his coarse screams cut off as if some huge hand had taken shears and cut them out of the air. His unconscious body lay on the floor in a heap, ragged, bloody. After a few minutes men dressed in blue overalls moved into the room, removing the table, the chair. They carried the needle out. The object they wrapped in a black silk cloth and removed with a great deal of reverence, as men treat their one heart's desire or an object of great religious import.
The man they hauled unceremoniously to one side, locking his wrists above his head in manacles, his hands fell loosely. They chained his ankles as well -- someone did not wish to take the chance that this man would escape.
"A thing of beauty, is it not?" The dark-robed man turned, out of the darkness came a figure whose face was obscured by a deep hood. Slender hands, manicured and obviously a woman's, stroked the twisted white statue that had caused all the commotion. Her voice was warm, a sweet contra-alto. Her voice was deceiving. The man knew she was quite mad -- and that she was as cold as the void of space.
His eyes were wide and glazed as he answered. "Yes, mistress. Beautiful." Somewhere deep inside, he felt a trill of fear. That thing... that thing was tearing his world apart, and he should be the one stopping it. But he was not. He could not.
The woman toyed with the thought of toying with her minion further, but she was getting bored. Besides, she had to pull the magic from the Shadow-stealer. No, she decided, now she wished to be alone. "Begone." She waved her hand in dismissal. "I will recall you later.
"Yes mistress." The Minister of Magic said woodenly, turning on a toe to apparate.
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Post by Cain on Nov 15, 2010 1:33:18 GMT -5
Hours later, Cain stirred. He groaned, movement was painful, what little movement he was allowed. His stomach had stopped prodding him for food months ago, he was grateful for what he was fed, but he was long past being hungry. There was something coppery in his mouth-- had he bitten his tongue or lips again?
He tried to sit straighter, to ease the strain on his wrists, but he didn’t have the strength. He could hardly lift his head. Cain moved his fingers experimentally. Nothing happened. Not even a warm feeling in his fingertips. There was no need to be take precautions about him magicking his way out of this cell. After his sessions with the Shadow-stealer, he was too drained to perform any magic.
His neck felt better, stronger. He lifted his head, not wasting his time looking around the room. There was no weakness to exploit there. No, the object of his attention was the long one-way window. He knew that he was being observed. He was always watched. He smirked.
Cain wasn’t himself, he was filthy, rail-thin, his hair was matted and white in patches, and his eyes were fading to grey. He knew it was the Shadow-stealer, to operate it, the wielder used his life-force. Something Cain didn’t have very much of.
His grin grew mischievous, and though it was hard, he raised both hands and flipped the watchers a double bird.
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Post by Scarlet on Nov 15, 2010 2:26:01 GMT -5
The Devil-Woman smiled from behind the glass, a harsh cackle sounding from her throat. Scarlet liked this boy, Cain. He was even more fun to torture than Curse Kameren had been. Cain fought back. No matter what they did to him, he would not submit. He would not give them the satisfaction of defeat. But he didn't understand; his rebellion was what caused the greatest satisfaction in Scar.
She turned to the cloaked men in the room with her, smirking at their silly hoods. They were ashamed to show their faces in such terrible conditions. Their disguises made them weak. She smirked, cocking her head in the direction of their captive. "I'm going in to talk to him," She said simply, a poisonous sweetness to her raspy voice.
The door creaked open, and Scarlet swayed into the room. Her movements were like a dance; she pushed and swayed with every step, as if she were moving to a song no one else could hear. Except for Cain. Cain had experienced the Shadow-stealer. Cain could hear her song.
"Oh Cain, Cain, Cain..." She sat cross-legged on the floor, just far enough away that her captive couldn't lash out at her. "Our dearest betrayer. Agent of the Shadow-stealer." She smiled, her large black eyes shining sadistically as a pale hand reached towards him, caressing him lightly on his hollow cheek. "My poor, poor baby." She crooned. She smiled lightly, looking on at the wizard subjectively as she hummed her sweet song under her breath.
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Post by Cain on Nov 15, 2010 2:48:02 GMT -5
"Oh Cain, Cain, Cain..." She sat cross-legged on the floor, just far enough away that her captive couldn't lash out at her. "Our dearest betrayer. Agent of the Shadow-stealer."
Cain watched the woman warily. Scarlet was more than a little unhinged (he was more than a little unhinged himself) and there was no real knowing what she would do. He had prior experience with her little ‘chats’ before. The copper lingered in his mouth, though the blood had long since stopped flowing. He shifted, trying again to ease his wrists. It was a futile effort.
"My poor, poor baby."
“Get away from me.” He snapped, quite literally, his teeth snapped shut just inches from her fingers as she withdrew them. His voice was raspy, his lips were cracked, the movement started the deeper cracks to bleeding again. Some ran inside his mouth, but most of the thin blood dribbled down his chin.
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Post by Scarlet on Nov 15, 2010 21:09:10 GMT -5
Scarlet withdrew her fingers with a dark giggle as he snapped at her. "Temper, Cain," she said, grinning viciously at the wizard. He was lucky; Scarlet was in a light mood today. She reached forward toward him once more, one hand keeping him from snapping at her again while the other wiped the blood from his chin. "See? All better. If you would behave humanly, I can too." Her dark eyes gleamed jovially. She enjoyed mocking Cain; she knew any human that remained in him was suppressed by the Shadow-Stealer. She was just rubbing in his situation; the only comfort he would get here was from his tormentor.
"Now Cain, you know how this goes," Scarlet resumed her seated position across from the man, her black eyes locked on his face, "You need to tell us everything you experienced while the spell was in motion. What you saw, what you heard. Everything. Its important." She stopped his sing-song humming, her face serious. It was important to know what Cain experienced; that was why she had touched the stone to begin with. But there was something to the music, something indescribable that even she couldn't place. Perhaps, with enough practice Cain would be able to interpret the undertones of the stone's screaming song.
Or perhaps they were missing an agent.
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Post by Cain on Nov 16, 2010 0:47:07 GMT -5
Scarlet withdrew her fingers with a dark giggle as he snapped at her. "Temper, Cain,"
Cain narrowed his eyes, though he didn’t have the strength to move again just then. He flinched involuntarily as she touched him, wiping the blood from his chin in an invented tenderness. He closed his eyes, trying to go back to unconsciousness, but her voice pervaded his mind, preventing any slipping away.
"See? All better. If you would behave humanly, I can too."
Cain stayed silent as she talked, he really had nothing to say. He thought of Caleigh, clinging to the thought of her safe and sound, out in the world. He hoped she had given up looking for him, he didn’t wish her to get caught up in this dark world again. He prayed she thought him dead.
Her dark eyes gleamed jovially. She enjoyed mocking Cain; she knew any human that remained in him was suppressed by the Shadow-Stealer. She was just rubbing in his situation; the only comfort he would get here was from his tormentor.
"Now Cain, you know how this goes," Scarlet resumed her seated position across from the man, her black eyes locked on his face, "You need to tell us everything you experienced while the spell was in motion. What you saw, what you heard. Everything. Its important."
He opened his eyes, remaining stubbornly quiet. It was almost a game, how long could he resist before she got him to talk. Over time, his ability to resist had lowered substantially, it was barely a matter of minutes, now. He moved his fingers again, letting a look of frustration settle over his face.
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Post by Scarlet on Dec 3, 2010 1:25:17 GMT -5
Scarlet sat unmoving in her position reflecting her prisoner, her round black eyes unmoving on her prey. His chest moved up and downwards heavily, his spent body strained from his imprisonment. Though the stone took a lot out of the wizard, it was interrogations such as these, Scarlet knew, that were what truly scarred the body. The Shadow Stone battled his mind: Scarlet would take care of the rest.
A period of silence fell between the two. Scar's black eyes didn't move or blink, just rested on her captive. She smirked. "Fighting again, I see," the devil-woman put a caressing hand to Cain's face once more, but instead of the motherly quality of her touch before, she struck him harshly across the face. "It would be easier for both of us if you just told me," Her long fingernails dug into Cain's cheek, and a burning sensation soaked into his skin; there was a painful poison under Scarlet's nails for just this occasion. It wouldn't mortally hurt him, but it would burn worse than any natural fire. "But this way it's so much more fun."
She laughed hoarsely as she brought her hand back from him, her black eyes almost glowing with the pleasure she got from his pain. Despite her almost rabid excitement, her voice stayed calm.
"Come on now, baby. You know I don't like to hurt you..."
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Post by Cain on Dec 3, 2010 2:13:47 GMT -5
He had felt the barest trickle, earlier. He had put every ounce of strength into pulling away before he was completely drained of magic. He didn’t know what good it would do, but it felt nice. It was a physical thing to cling to, something there and now. Not like Caleigh, not like Alex or any other of his friends. They were gone.
"Fighting again, I see,"
He cried out involuntarily, unable to stop his head from snapping to the side from the slap. He slowly brought his head around, his grey-blue eyes focusing on and through Scarlet, once again stubbornly silent. He didn’t know if she was a witch or not-- it was so difficult, discerning. Many of those he had seen were squibs, many were simply dark wizards. Nothing was ever simple.
"It would be easier for both of us if you just told me, but this way it's so much more fun."
Cain’s eye’s flew wide and he screamed, twisting. He stared at the ceiling as if for answers, refusing to look at the woman. Merlin, but she derived such pleasure from the pain of others, he couldn’t bear to watch her eyes. She withdrew her nails, but the fire still burned. He closed his eyes, trying hard to focus, to draw himself together. He thought of a place.
"Come on now, baby. You know I don't like to hurt you..."
He opened his eyes and made contact with hers as he braced a heel on the scruffy floor and twisted, as he had in pain earlier. A dissonant crack sounded and Cain Elias Pierce disappeared.
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