Me: Something stupid and short… As you can see, I'm a big 1x2 fan… *snicker* But for the other 1x2 fans out there reading this… *double snicker* It's not the 1x2 you think… *snicker* ...now I'm all hungry… *stomps off to find a place in this damn hotel that sells Snickers*
Kegawa: Get me one! *looks around* She's gone… *snicker* AH! It's contagious! Well, without further ado, I give you…
The Captive
Ke: ...nice intimidating title there...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door to a dark, dank prison cell swung open and in stumbled a young girl. Her wrists were bound and the spirit very well near beaten out of her. The young man who had been goading her along smirked as she caught her foot and the ground rushed up at her. "Not so tough now, are we, girlie?" he taunted, slamming the door shut.
Sliding into an upright position, the girl turned her head and wiped the blood from her lips on the shoulder of her tattered shirt. It had been three days since she had been captured by OZ, and each day was worse than the next. Torture, beatings, other things… She had receded to the reaches of her mind furthest from reality. It was as if she was watching someone else instead of herself. She had lost all hope.
Well, not all hope. She yearned for her lover. He would rescue her, and the thought of him kept her going. But would he accept her? She wasn't the same person he fell in love with before her failed mission.
She sat against the wall, sapphire-turned-gray eyes piercing the surrounding darkness. She imagined her hero, her Heero, storming in and slaughtering each and every one of the bastards who had ever touched her or looked at her. What would he say when he found her? Comforting words? Angry words? Nothing at all?
The men were coming back. The insolent, cocky, confident young soldiers who were her tormentors. The door opened again. Dirty yellow light filled the tiny space. She didn't bother to raise her head; she knew the owner of each heavy footfall.
Her arm was nearly wrenched out of its socket as she was pulled to her feet. Resistance was futile. She would only be beaten and punished. One of the young soldiers stepped forward and looked down at her bruised and bloodied face. He took his cigarette from his mouth and pushed the burning red end into the tender flesh on her arm. She moaned in pain and the others quickly picked up on this new sport.
The same soldier produced a lighter and a pack of matches. The matches were lit and extinguished on her arms and shoulders and neck. With the lighter they burned her fingers and hands. The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming, so she was dragged out into the hall. A particularly spiteful man used the lighter to heat a bent paperclip with which he branded into her shoulder the letters 'o' and 'z'. "Officially our property now!" he laughed as his friends slapped him on the back,.
The girl could no longer bear it. She had no more strength left. She collapsed, squeezing her eyes shut and curling into a tiny ball, and the men kicked her. They hauled her up again and again, but she refused to make her legs work. Eventually the blows subsided and the forest of boots parted. From her point of view, all she saw was a pair of feet. With a few sharp words, the crowd disbanded and she was offered a hand. Once the person realized she could not take it since her hands were tied, two strong arms scooped her off the cold cement. She was carried a ways before she was laid on a cot in a well-lit room by her blond-haired savoir.
He called for a nurse to tend her wounds and left only for a moment to get her a bottle of water. When he returned, he untied her wrists and took a moment to look her over. Her long chestnut hair was stringy and damp with sweat and her face was marred but still beautiful. At one time she may have been wearing a black tee-shirt and leans, but all that was left was a torn and bloodied rag and ripped cut-offs. Her legs and arms were bruised and also caked with blood and there were bite marks all over her shoulders.
"What did they do to you?" he asked, running a gentle hand through her hair. She flinched and held her tongue. The nurse appeared in the doorway and hurried over.
"Oh my! How did she get like this?" the young lady asked as she began work immediately. She tied back the girl's mass of hair and washed her wounds. Tentatively, she touched the 'OZ' branding and winced. "Those reckless new recruits! They need to be seriously reprimanded. Mr. Marquise, I trust you will take care of them?"
Without a word, the blond man stood and left. The nurse turned and smiled at the girl. "My name is Marie. What's yours?" she asked as she wrapped the girl's scarred wrists in bandages.
"...Duet…" the girl replied, watching Marie intently.
"Duet… That's such a pretty name. How did you get so lucky?" Marie continued, trying to distract Duet as she rubbed the cuts with antiseptic.
"One of my adoptive fathers was a singer in a band. He once mentioned to me how lonely it was to sing solo because even in his finest hour he was alone. I… didn't want to be alone," Duet murmured, fingering the bandages. She cast a longing glance at the small window looking over the airstrip outside.
"You want to go home, don't you? Tell me who will be there waiting. What's home like?" Duet could tell the nurse was only trying to make conversation and she needn't respond, but she couldn't help but jump at the chance to talk about Heero.
"Home is a small house in the woods on Earth. And Heero is there. That's what's best about home."
"Who is Heero? What's he like?" Marie could tell from the way Duet spoke that the mere thought of home cheered her up immensely. 'Heero must be her boyfriend,' she thought as Duet smiled while she recalled every wonderful thing she could think of to say about Heero.
"He loves me," Duet answered simply, condensing her every thought of him into one sentence that said it all.
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Me: Don't look at me like that… *munches Snickers bar from secret American food stash* This was originally supposed to be a Planet of the Apes thing… If It get good reviews, I might continue it…
Ke: You? Get reviews?
Me: Yeah, that would be odd… I mean, besides Talon and that ALL CAPS friend of mine...
Ke: And, uh, no offense, but how are you gonna continue THAT? *looks at story*
Me: None taken. Hmmm… I dunno. Tell me, would you like to see a Duet x Heero or a Duet x Zechs?
Ke: Duet x Marie.
Me: You would…
Duet: *starts strangling Kegawa* Why you horny little…
Me: *happily munches Snickers and guzzles a kamikaze Jolt + Surge cola combo as I watch them fight* I think I'm beginning to like my muse… GO FOR THE FACE!!! THE FACE!!!
Kegawa: Get me one! *looks around* She's gone… *snicker* AH! It's contagious! Well, without further ado, I give you…
The Captive
Ke: ...nice intimidating title there...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door to a dark, dank prison cell swung open and in stumbled a young girl. Her wrists were bound and the spirit very well near beaten out of her. The young man who had been goading her along smirked as she caught her foot and the ground rushed up at her. "Not so tough now, are we, girlie?" he taunted, slamming the door shut.
Sliding into an upright position, the girl turned her head and wiped the blood from her lips on the shoulder of her tattered shirt. It had been three days since she had been captured by OZ, and each day was worse than the next. Torture, beatings, other things… She had receded to the reaches of her mind furthest from reality. It was as if she was watching someone else instead of herself. She had lost all hope.
Well, not all hope. She yearned for her lover. He would rescue her, and the thought of him kept her going. But would he accept her? She wasn't the same person he fell in love with before her failed mission.
She sat against the wall, sapphire-turned-gray eyes piercing the surrounding darkness. She imagined her hero, her Heero, storming in and slaughtering each and every one of the bastards who had ever touched her or looked at her. What would he say when he found her? Comforting words? Angry words? Nothing at all?
The men were coming back. The insolent, cocky, confident young soldiers who were her tormentors. The door opened again. Dirty yellow light filled the tiny space. She didn't bother to raise her head; she knew the owner of each heavy footfall.
Her arm was nearly wrenched out of its socket as she was pulled to her feet. Resistance was futile. She would only be beaten and punished. One of the young soldiers stepped forward and looked down at her bruised and bloodied face. He took his cigarette from his mouth and pushed the burning red end into the tender flesh on her arm. She moaned in pain and the others quickly picked up on this new sport.
The same soldier produced a lighter and a pack of matches. The matches were lit and extinguished on her arms and shoulders and neck. With the lighter they burned her fingers and hands. The smell of burning flesh was overwhelming, so she was dragged out into the hall. A particularly spiteful man used the lighter to heat a bent paperclip with which he branded into her shoulder the letters 'o' and 'z'. "Officially our property now!" he laughed as his friends slapped him on the back,.
The girl could no longer bear it. She had no more strength left. She collapsed, squeezing her eyes shut and curling into a tiny ball, and the men kicked her. They hauled her up again and again, but she refused to make her legs work. Eventually the blows subsided and the forest of boots parted. From her point of view, all she saw was a pair of feet. With a few sharp words, the crowd disbanded and she was offered a hand. Once the person realized she could not take it since her hands were tied, two strong arms scooped her off the cold cement. She was carried a ways before she was laid on a cot in a well-lit room by her blond-haired savoir.
He called for a nurse to tend her wounds and left only for a moment to get her a bottle of water. When he returned, he untied her wrists and took a moment to look her over. Her long chestnut hair was stringy and damp with sweat and her face was marred but still beautiful. At one time she may have been wearing a black tee-shirt and leans, but all that was left was a torn and bloodied rag and ripped cut-offs. Her legs and arms were bruised and also caked with blood and there were bite marks all over her shoulders.
"What did they do to you?" he asked, running a gentle hand through her hair. She flinched and held her tongue. The nurse appeared in the doorway and hurried over.
"Oh my! How did she get like this?" the young lady asked as she began work immediately. She tied back the girl's mass of hair and washed her wounds. Tentatively, she touched the 'OZ' branding and winced. "Those reckless new recruits! They need to be seriously reprimanded. Mr. Marquise, I trust you will take care of them?"
Without a word, the blond man stood and left. The nurse turned and smiled at the girl. "My name is Marie. What's yours?" she asked as she wrapped the girl's scarred wrists in bandages.
"...Duet…" the girl replied, watching Marie intently.
"Duet… That's such a pretty name. How did you get so lucky?" Marie continued, trying to distract Duet as she rubbed the cuts with antiseptic.
"One of my adoptive fathers was a singer in a band. He once mentioned to me how lonely it was to sing solo because even in his finest hour he was alone. I… didn't want to be alone," Duet murmured, fingering the bandages. She cast a longing glance at the small window looking over the airstrip outside.
"You want to go home, don't you? Tell me who will be there waiting. What's home like?" Duet could tell the nurse was only trying to make conversation and she needn't respond, but she couldn't help but jump at the chance to talk about Heero.
"Home is a small house in the woods on Earth. And Heero is there. That's what's best about home."
"Who is Heero? What's he like?" Marie could tell from the way Duet spoke that the mere thought of home cheered her up immensely. 'Heero must be her boyfriend,' she thought as Duet smiled while she recalled every wonderful thing she could think of to say about Heero.
"He loves me," Duet answered simply, condensing her every thought of him into one sentence that said it all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Me: Don't look at me like that… *munches Snickers bar from secret American food stash* This was originally supposed to be a Planet of the Apes thing… If It get good reviews, I might continue it…
Ke: You? Get reviews?
Me: Yeah, that would be odd… I mean, besides Talon and that ALL CAPS friend of mine...
Ke: And, uh, no offense, but how are you gonna continue THAT? *looks at story*
Me: None taken. Hmmm… I dunno. Tell me, would you like to see a Duet x Heero or a Duet x Zechs?
Ke: Duet x Marie.
Me: You would…
Duet: *starts strangling Kegawa* Why you horny little…
Me: *happily munches Snickers and guzzles a kamikaze Jolt + Surge cola combo as I watch them fight* I think I'm beginning to like my muse… GO FOR THE FACE!!! THE FACE!!!
