Sadly, I still don't own Trigun. Damn and blast.
Oh well, there's always tomorrow!
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~8~
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Knives had long since given up tapping his fingers together, and was now in search of some other form of dubious entertainment. Watching the unconcious human girl was quickly losing its charm after the two hours she had occupied another chair in his 'office,' and he found himself pacing the breadth of the room impatiently. It was cripplingly boring, and he began to growl beneath his breath, wishing for everything that he could cuff the thing and wake her up. However, she looked so fragile that in doing so, he would probably kill her. So he contented himself with pulling up another chair beside hers, and scrutinizing his new thing.
Just as he had suspected, she was a fragile looking specimen. She looked to be slightly younger than her actual age, and her arms were thin where they lay across her chest. Her entire figure was willowy, and her complexion was pale. Knives surmised that she would have large, and no doubt expressive, eyes as well; this made her to look like a poor waif, and he smirked. Exactly what he wanted. His human-sympathizing brother would fall for this trap like no other he had ever devised. She looked entirely helpless, and definitely not the kind of thing that his brother would want to... endanger. He couldn't keep in a slight bark of laughter, but quickly crushed the urge to continue. Instead he went back to looking at the girl.
She was breathing shallowly, and seemed to bruise easily, because of her pale skin. The marks that Legato had left on her throat had bruised before his eyes an hour earlier, the blood blossoming up beneath her skin to form those lovely little patches of purple and blue that adorned her neck now. She wore a dirty, ripped, and faded blue dress, with a dusty and limp apron covering her front. He smirked to himself, and decided to play a little personality game; he didn't really care who she was, or how she acted, but sometimes it was fun to get inside their minds and predict their actions, until they couldn't hide anythng from you. His brow furrowed in thought, and he gently scratched his cheek.
She... would be the kind of human who did not scream easily. She would cower, or cringe, or dodge away, or any of those soundless ways of expressing fear that humans had. Most likely she would try to shrink back into any physical object that was around, in an effort to make her already small stature smaller, and therefore less threatening, and less bothersome. Frowing, he mulled that over slightly. That meant that he would have to teach her how to scream. Silence is well enough; but in order to guarantee his brother's full attention, she would have to vocalize her fear. Like those two twits who tailed the Stampede constantly. He hummed slightly, in a better mood; he loved teaching his servants things. Especially things that caused them pain in some way, shape or form.
Well... if she wouldn't scream after all that, he would have to send someone with her, to be sure that attention was guaranteed. In thought again, he shifted positions slightly, rubbing at his chin. She would... take well to orders once broken. Most likely in a listless way, or a blank way. Less sadistic, but more efficient. The kind of person who would kill herself to make sure orders got carried out. Even if he didn't specifically order her to. His mood lifted even more; that was good.
With an slight moan, the girl shifted in the chair next to him, breaking his little game off abruptly. Frowning, Knives stood up, and moved his chair back, instead sitting on the corner of the desk across from her. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and then she cringed from the lingering pain, hissing slightly between her teeth as she brought a hand to her throat, gingerly fingering the bruises. She looked to be mentally going over the situtation, before her searching eyes- ah, good, they were rather large, he had been right- found him sitting on the desk. She squeeked slightly in the back of her throat, eyes widening in sudden fear and apprehension, and she pulled back slightly into the chair, making herself look smaller. He couldn't resist a crow of laughter; he had been right again.
His sudden outburst seemed to scare her even more, because her eyes widened further, and she pulled her knees to her chest protectively. Knives continued to laugh brazenly, tears almost gathering in the corners of his brilliantly blue eyes; he hadn't laughed this well in such a long time, not since he had killed that pathetic human. Then he had laughed in anticipation of his brother's expression. Now he laughed because they were animals. Humans were animals, and base. Even though their minds professed to be brilliant, and they told themselves they were superior to all things; he could read them as easily as a book, even in their sleep. This was hysterically funny to him, and he would have continued his tirade; however, he didn't wish to scare his new toy to death. He blinked down at her, after his giggles died out, and raised a hand in slight greeting, sliding off the desk.
"Welcome back to the world of the aware, little one." He intoned, his voice a surprisingly melodic tenor. Still looking down at her, he spread his hands wide in an attempt to put her at ease. It seemed to be a gesture that implied that there was no danger from the one who made it, and she relaxed slightly. Not enough for even her herself to notice; but the little things caught his eye. Her jaw unclenched, and her muscles relaxed slightly. From the slight movement of her dress and apron over her chest, he was able to discern that her heartbeat had slowed minutely, as well as her breathing- it had resumed its normal pace. Knives almost giggled again. She would be a fun project.
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~8~
.
Since she had awakened in this strange place, Eyre had been on her guard. For all she knew, she could be dead; crushed by that unfeeling man with the hypnotic hawk's eyes. However, as she made the customary sweep of her wherabouts, she knew that she was living... she just didn't know how long she would stay that way; for there, on the desk, was that same man who had been there at the town. Who she surmised had killed everyone. She let out a strangled cry, and shrunk backwards reflexively. Then he had begun to laugh.
She shivered. Never had she heard anything so cold; so maniacal. It almost seemed as if she were trapped in a large room with a truly insane man. His shocking eyes were stretched wide, his pupils contracted into tiny pinpoints of black in an expansive ocean of bright blue. His head tilted back slightly mouth stretched somewhere inbetween a smirk and a feral grin. His laughter was not high pitched, but not low either, and she could only stare wide-eyed at the scene as he trailed off into equally manic giggling, fingers twitching spasmodically into the wood of the desk. With another shudder, she saw it give way slightly under his grasping hands, and realized exactly how strong he must be, to make indents in wood only when seized by a violent fit of laughter.
Just as soon as he had started, he stopped, and began to peer down at her, with those same piercing eyes; the pupils returning to normal in an almost eerie widening. He must have seen that she was still tensed up, her muscles beginning to ache terribly from holding themselves in their most contracted state from a prolonged amount of time, and spread his hands wide, in a generally accepted gesture that implied he was no threat to her existance, or even her conciousness. She relaxed minutely, still slightly disturbed by all of these happenings, but he seemed to be satistfied with it.
"Welcome back to the world of the aware, little one." He had said, arms still spread. She started slightly at the sound of his voice, so different from the terrible laughing. It was soft in and of itself, but with razor blades lurking beneath it. Should he change his tone from one meant to soothe to one meant to cut or wound, they would appear. Though she knew of the danger carefully covered by his calming tone, she felt her nerves calm slightly; as if allowing her to be placated by the carefully constructed facade of his voice. One phrase, and information coursed through her mind. She was well to be afeared of this man; he weilded great power and control. Eyre had long since learned, living in the house with that man, that when he was openly angry she didn't have as much to fear from him as when he spoke in calm and soothing tones. That was when he was in control of everything, and she had no way to escape the beating he had planned for her. Her captor was equally so. She knew now, that if he could afford to be courteous to her... she had no way out. Her thoughts were broken like glass as the man before her cleared his throat slightly.
He was staring at her again, with an air of slight distaste, as if he was rolling around a useless question in his mouth, and he didn't exactly like the taste of it.
"What... is your name." He finally said. Said, not asked. Eyre realized that he didn't seem like the type of person who would ask things. Questions can be brushed off or refused. This was an order; the kind that you have to answer, even though she didn't want to. A thousand things whirled through her mind- should she give him a false name? No... with those piercing eyes it seemed as if he could see straight through her... plus, she was a terrible liar; her hands always shook, and her face flushed slightly when she did. There were so many things she wanted to call him; murderer, fiend, kidnapper, psychopath... but she didn't think he would take that well, and she really didn't want to end up dead. So she spoke up, proud that her voice didn't quaver as much as she thought it would.
"...Eyre," she half whispered, eyes downcast. As an afterthought, she raised her head defiantly, and forced her quaking body to meet her demands. She wrapped herself with an iron will born of desperation and made herself lift her eyes to meet with his, though she almost winced with the intensity of the gaze; her green-flecked eyes instantly losing the power struggle. "it's Eyre." He looked slightly pleased with himself for establishing concrete superiority so early, and smirked slightly. 'Well... she has some backbone to her after all,' he thought to himself, mulling over the possible ways to tell her her situation. Finally, he settled on the direct approach.
"Very well then, Eyre," he began, testing her name experimentally. He found it, if not to his liking, well enough to use. "You are now under my jurisdiction. Essentially," he paused slightly for emphasis, "you are now my possession." She gawked slightly, her mouth falling open; she hadn't expected this, no not at all. He laughed a short bark at her surprised expression, causing her to twitch slightly, and look away, fuming. How dare he treat her, another human being, as a belonging? She opened her mouth, eyes glinting with sharp anger, vocalizing her thoughts before she had time to think about it.
"H-how dare you suddenly grab me and yank me into unwilling servitude!" Eyre snapped, the green in her eyes glowing with an quick burning fury. He regarded her with nothing short of amusement, and before she knew it, had pulled a hand back and slapped her deftly across the face, with such force that it sent her head snapping to the side, her body following as she collapsed against the arm of the chair, a large bruise already beginning to blossom up underneath her pale skin. She coughed slightly, eyes tearing from the sting of being hit, the shock of being hit that hard in such an off-hand manner, and the disbelief that he was now still laughing at her.
"Ah, you creatures never ceace to amuse me," He chuckled out, again leaning against the corner of the desk, his eyes filled with disdainful mirth. Then, just as quickly as he had hit her, he was on his feet again, pulling her up so quickly as to cause her to cry out in pain, wincing as her arm was almost yanked from its resting place. His eyebrows raised slightly. "Why, you have a lovely scream, little one." She glared at him, a mixture of pain, fear, anger, and loathing all cooked up into the most delicious expression he had seen in quite a while. He chuckled again, and then became quite still, his eyes hardening again.
"My name, little one, is Knives," he began, silently relishing the intensifying of her expression, the recognition that flooded her eyes and caused her mouth to open slightly in shock. The monument... that was him... he wrote it... he killed them. Now she knew. She opened her mouth to speak again.
"It was you-" she began, and then cringed backwards as best as she could as he shut her up with a single hard glare, and the telltale movement of his hand upwards. Watching his hand, she realized that he would hit her again if she spoke. And again after that if she spoke... so she remained silent, only watching him with her accusing eyes.
"You, little one, will from now on call me Master." he finished, triumphantly. Her lips curled in a silent snarl, but her head hung low on her neck. He waited for an affirmation. It seemed that they waited for hours, Eyre dangling from his hand like a sullen puppet, whose strings were suddenly all too constricting. Finally a whisper issued from her lips.
"Yes..." she said, her voice a quiet breath of air, as if the last emission of breath from the lips of a dead man, "Master."
He grinned with a sudden glee at hearing her say it. He had successfully broken another one, and though he was sure it would take a long time for the anger to fade from the hellion's eyes of green and brown, he had forever.
"Good," he began, releasing her wrist from his grip, only to grab ahold of it again. She still looked horrible, a bruise on her cheek, livid bruises on her throat, her hair in tangles and her dress in tatters. She would not do for his servant. "Now. You look terrible. Go outside. Find the man who brought you in earlier. He will take you to somewhere that you can be cleaned up." her nose twitched slightly.
"Yes, Master." she sneered, making a mockery of the simple servile words. Knives grit his teeth, as she turned her purposefully blank gaze on him. It made him ill, to see perverse nothing where her sparkle had been. Suddenly, he didn't wish to see those eyes anymore, let alone her. He barked a simple order.
"Get out. Now." the Master snarled viciously, before stalking back to his desk. There was nothing but silence from his new aquisition, and he went to sit petulantly at his desk, glowering at the wooden finish on it as he heard the door slam behind her.
He ground his teeth together in abject anger, knowing that what he had thought to be easy was going to present more of a challenge than he had previously thought. In his twisted annoyance, he decided not to go as easy on her has he would have in the beginning...
She had a wonderful scream.
Maybe he would start from there.
.
~8~
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A/N: Eee, another one done! This story is starting to write itself, I think. I'm not sure whether or not Knives was in character throughout this chapter, so do me a big big favour and tell me? Pretty please with Vash on top? ...Ooh. ^_^; That's an impure thought right there.
Here's a big thankoo to all my faithful reviewers, who are starting to look suspiciously like K-Chan, Miss Ericks, and Aya. XD Yay!
I'll have to pay you all back -somehow-
Love and Peace!
-Ivory
Oh well, there's always tomorrow!
.
~8~
.
Knives had long since given up tapping his fingers together, and was now in search of some other form of dubious entertainment. Watching the unconcious human girl was quickly losing its charm after the two hours she had occupied another chair in his 'office,' and he found himself pacing the breadth of the room impatiently. It was cripplingly boring, and he began to growl beneath his breath, wishing for everything that he could cuff the thing and wake her up. However, she looked so fragile that in doing so, he would probably kill her. So he contented himself with pulling up another chair beside hers, and scrutinizing his new thing.
Just as he had suspected, she was a fragile looking specimen. She looked to be slightly younger than her actual age, and her arms were thin where they lay across her chest. Her entire figure was willowy, and her complexion was pale. Knives surmised that she would have large, and no doubt expressive, eyes as well; this made her to look like a poor waif, and he smirked. Exactly what he wanted. His human-sympathizing brother would fall for this trap like no other he had ever devised. She looked entirely helpless, and definitely not the kind of thing that his brother would want to... endanger. He couldn't keep in a slight bark of laughter, but quickly crushed the urge to continue. Instead he went back to looking at the girl.
She was breathing shallowly, and seemed to bruise easily, because of her pale skin. The marks that Legato had left on her throat had bruised before his eyes an hour earlier, the blood blossoming up beneath her skin to form those lovely little patches of purple and blue that adorned her neck now. She wore a dirty, ripped, and faded blue dress, with a dusty and limp apron covering her front. He smirked to himself, and decided to play a little personality game; he didn't really care who she was, or how she acted, but sometimes it was fun to get inside their minds and predict their actions, until they couldn't hide anythng from you. His brow furrowed in thought, and he gently scratched his cheek.
She... would be the kind of human who did not scream easily. She would cower, or cringe, or dodge away, or any of those soundless ways of expressing fear that humans had. Most likely she would try to shrink back into any physical object that was around, in an effort to make her already small stature smaller, and therefore less threatening, and less bothersome. Frowing, he mulled that over slightly. That meant that he would have to teach her how to scream. Silence is well enough; but in order to guarantee his brother's full attention, she would have to vocalize her fear. Like those two twits who tailed the Stampede constantly. He hummed slightly, in a better mood; he loved teaching his servants things. Especially things that caused them pain in some way, shape or form.
Well... if she wouldn't scream after all that, he would have to send someone with her, to be sure that attention was guaranteed. In thought again, he shifted positions slightly, rubbing at his chin. She would... take well to orders once broken. Most likely in a listless way, or a blank way. Less sadistic, but more efficient. The kind of person who would kill herself to make sure orders got carried out. Even if he didn't specifically order her to. His mood lifted even more; that was good.
With an slight moan, the girl shifted in the chair next to him, breaking his little game off abruptly. Frowning, Knives stood up, and moved his chair back, instead sitting on the corner of the desk across from her. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and then she cringed from the lingering pain, hissing slightly between her teeth as she brought a hand to her throat, gingerly fingering the bruises. She looked to be mentally going over the situtation, before her searching eyes- ah, good, they were rather large, he had been right- found him sitting on the desk. She squeeked slightly in the back of her throat, eyes widening in sudden fear and apprehension, and she pulled back slightly into the chair, making herself look smaller. He couldn't resist a crow of laughter; he had been right again.
His sudden outburst seemed to scare her even more, because her eyes widened further, and she pulled her knees to her chest protectively. Knives continued to laugh brazenly, tears almost gathering in the corners of his brilliantly blue eyes; he hadn't laughed this well in such a long time, not since he had killed that pathetic human. Then he had laughed in anticipation of his brother's expression. Now he laughed because they were animals. Humans were animals, and base. Even though their minds professed to be brilliant, and they told themselves they were superior to all things; he could read them as easily as a book, even in their sleep. This was hysterically funny to him, and he would have continued his tirade; however, he didn't wish to scare his new toy to death. He blinked down at her, after his giggles died out, and raised a hand in slight greeting, sliding off the desk.
"Welcome back to the world of the aware, little one." He intoned, his voice a surprisingly melodic tenor. Still looking down at her, he spread his hands wide in an attempt to put her at ease. It seemed to be a gesture that implied that there was no danger from the one who made it, and she relaxed slightly. Not enough for even her herself to notice; but the little things caught his eye. Her jaw unclenched, and her muscles relaxed slightly. From the slight movement of her dress and apron over her chest, he was able to discern that her heartbeat had slowed minutely, as well as her breathing- it had resumed its normal pace. Knives almost giggled again. She would be a fun project.
.
~8~
.
Since she had awakened in this strange place, Eyre had been on her guard. For all she knew, she could be dead; crushed by that unfeeling man with the hypnotic hawk's eyes. However, as she made the customary sweep of her wherabouts, she knew that she was living... she just didn't know how long she would stay that way; for there, on the desk, was that same man who had been there at the town. Who she surmised had killed everyone. She let out a strangled cry, and shrunk backwards reflexively. Then he had begun to laugh.
She shivered. Never had she heard anything so cold; so maniacal. It almost seemed as if she were trapped in a large room with a truly insane man. His shocking eyes were stretched wide, his pupils contracted into tiny pinpoints of black in an expansive ocean of bright blue. His head tilted back slightly mouth stretched somewhere inbetween a smirk and a feral grin. His laughter was not high pitched, but not low either, and she could only stare wide-eyed at the scene as he trailed off into equally manic giggling, fingers twitching spasmodically into the wood of the desk. With another shudder, she saw it give way slightly under his grasping hands, and realized exactly how strong he must be, to make indents in wood only when seized by a violent fit of laughter.
Just as soon as he had started, he stopped, and began to peer down at her, with those same piercing eyes; the pupils returning to normal in an almost eerie widening. He must have seen that she was still tensed up, her muscles beginning to ache terribly from holding themselves in their most contracted state from a prolonged amount of time, and spread his hands wide, in a generally accepted gesture that implied he was no threat to her existance, or even her conciousness. She relaxed minutely, still slightly disturbed by all of these happenings, but he seemed to be satistfied with it.
"Welcome back to the world of the aware, little one." He had said, arms still spread. She started slightly at the sound of his voice, so different from the terrible laughing. It was soft in and of itself, but with razor blades lurking beneath it. Should he change his tone from one meant to soothe to one meant to cut or wound, they would appear. Though she knew of the danger carefully covered by his calming tone, she felt her nerves calm slightly; as if allowing her to be placated by the carefully constructed facade of his voice. One phrase, and information coursed through her mind. She was well to be afeared of this man; he weilded great power and control. Eyre had long since learned, living in the house with that man, that when he was openly angry she didn't have as much to fear from him as when he spoke in calm and soothing tones. That was when he was in control of everything, and she had no way to escape the beating he had planned for her. Her captor was equally so. She knew now, that if he could afford to be courteous to her... she had no way out. Her thoughts were broken like glass as the man before her cleared his throat slightly.
He was staring at her again, with an air of slight distaste, as if he was rolling around a useless question in his mouth, and he didn't exactly like the taste of it.
"What... is your name." He finally said. Said, not asked. Eyre realized that he didn't seem like the type of person who would ask things. Questions can be brushed off or refused. This was an order; the kind that you have to answer, even though she didn't want to. A thousand things whirled through her mind- should she give him a false name? No... with those piercing eyes it seemed as if he could see straight through her... plus, she was a terrible liar; her hands always shook, and her face flushed slightly when she did. There were so many things she wanted to call him; murderer, fiend, kidnapper, psychopath... but she didn't think he would take that well, and she really didn't want to end up dead. So she spoke up, proud that her voice didn't quaver as much as she thought it would.
"...Eyre," she half whispered, eyes downcast. As an afterthought, she raised her head defiantly, and forced her quaking body to meet her demands. She wrapped herself with an iron will born of desperation and made herself lift her eyes to meet with his, though she almost winced with the intensity of the gaze; her green-flecked eyes instantly losing the power struggle. "it's Eyre." He looked slightly pleased with himself for establishing concrete superiority so early, and smirked slightly. 'Well... she has some backbone to her after all,' he thought to himself, mulling over the possible ways to tell her her situation. Finally, he settled on the direct approach.
"Very well then, Eyre," he began, testing her name experimentally. He found it, if not to his liking, well enough to use. "You are now under my jurisdiction. Essentially," he paused slightly for emphasis, "you are now my possession." She gawked slightly, her mouth falling open; she hadn't expected this, no not at all. He laughed a short bark at her surprised expression, causing her to twitch slightly, and look away, fuming. How dare he treat her, another human being, as a belonging? She opened her mouth, eyes glinting with sharp anger, vocalizing her thoughts before she had time to think about it.
"H-how dare you suddenly grab me and yank me into unwilling servitude!" Eyre snapped, the green in her eyes glowing with an quick burning fury. He regarded her with nothing short of amusement, and before she knew it, had pulled a hand back and slapped her deftly across the face, with such force that it sent her head snapping to the side, her body following as she collapsed against the arm of the chair, a large bruise already beginning to blossom up underneath her pale skin. She coughed slightly, eyes tearing from the sting of being hit, the shock of being hit that hard in such an off-hand manner, and the disbelief that he was now still laughing at her.
"Ah, you creatures never ceace to amuse me," He chuckled out, again leaning against the corner of the desk, his eyes filled with disdainful mirth. Then, just as quickly as he had hit her, he was on his feet again, pulling her up so quickly as to cause her to cry out in pain, wincing as her arm was almost yanked from its resting place. His eyebrows raised slightly. "Why, you have a lovely scream, little one." She glared at him, a mixture of pain, fear, anger, and loathing all cooked up into the most delicious expression he had seen in quite a while. He chuckled again, and then became quite still, his eyes hardening again.
"My name, little one, is Knives," he began, silently relishing the intensifying of her expression, the recognition that flooded her eyes and caused her mouth to open slightly in shock. The monument... that was him... he wrote it... he killed them. Now she knew. She opened her mouth to speak again.
"It was you-" she began, and then cringed backwards as best as she could as he shut her up with a single hard glare, and the telltale movement of his hand upwards. Watching his hand, she realized that he would hit her again if she spoke. And again after that if she spoke... so she remained silent, only watching him with her accusing eyes.
"You, little one, will from now on call me Master." he finished, triumphantly. Her lips curled in a silent snarl, but her head hung low on her neck. He waited for an affirmation. It seemed that they waited for hours, Eyre dangling from his hand like a sullen puppet, whose strings were suddenly all too constricting. Finally a whisper issued from her lips.
"Yes..." she said, her voice a quiet breath of air, as if the last emission of breath from the lips of a dead man, "Master."
He grinned with a sudden glee at hearing her say it. He had successfully broken another one, and though he was sure it would take a long time for the anger to fade from the hellion's eyes of green and brown, he had forever.
"Good," he began, releasing her wrist from his grip, only to grab ahold of it again. She still looked horrible, a bruise on her cheek, livid bruises on her throat, her hair in tangles and her dress in tatters. She would not do for his servant. "Now. You look terrible. Go outside. Find the man who brought you in earlier. He will take you to somewhere that you can be cleaned up." her nose twitched slightly.
"Yes, Master." she sneered, making a mockery of the simple servile words. Knives grit his teeth, as she turned her purposefully blank gaze on him. It made him ill, to see perverse nothing where her sparkle had been. Suddenly, he didn't wish to see those eyes anymore, let alone her. He barked a simple order.
"Get out. Now." the Master snarled viciously, before stalking back to his desk. There was nothing but silence from his new aquisition, and he went to sit petulantly at his desk, glowering at the wooden finish on it as he heard the door slam behind her.
He ground his teeth together in abject anger, knowing that what he had thought to be easy was going to present more of a challenge than he had previously thought. In his twisted annoyance, he decided not to go as easy on her has he would have in the beginning...
She had a wonderful scream.
Maybe he would start from there.
.
~8~
.
A/N: Eee, another one done! This story is starting to write itself, I think. I'm not sure whether or not Knives was in character throughout this chapter, so do me a big big favour and tell me? Pretty please with Vash on top? ...Ooh. ^_^; That's an impure thought right there.
Here's a big thankoo to all my faithful reviewers, who are starting to look suspiciously like K-Chan, Miss Ericks, and Aya. XD Yay!
I'll have to pay you all back -somehow-
Love and Peace!
-Ivory