Title::: Alone
Author::: HazeLavendar
Rating::: Overall: NC-17 for language, some mild violence, and explicit sex
Category::: Gen/Het
Pairing::: Riddick/Jack
Summary::: I've given Jack an unusual personality (is psychotic too harsh a word?) and allowed her to run rampant . . . how is this going to affect everyone? . . . especially Riddick?
Disclaimer::: Don't own anything PB related.
Feedback::: Would be quite appreciated. I accept constructive criticism and even flames.
Archive::: No, thank you . . . . It's already archived
Notes::: 1) This disclaimer shall only appear in the first chapter. 2) The story doesn't only revolve on what happened on the planet . . . no need to worry.
::: CHAPTER ONE :::
My life was an illusion. My being no longer mine. People saw what they wanted and for this I was ultimately grateful. I groaned and I griped about the way it had to be, but secretly and mostly hidden from view I was satisfied. Everything was easier. I would smile or I would cry. With people, I was an echo of them. If they were bubbly and cheery, I would make flippant comments about the latest rumor floating around. If they were somber and contemplative, I would discuss the pains and sorrows of the world. It was vital that no one realized just how jaded I was. No one knew me, and I was starting to think that maybe I just didn't know myself.
Early on I had realized one very haunting truth. No matter how hard it would be, how much it would hurt, or how scarring the situation would be, I would make it through and have to deal with the pain and consequences. This in itself is scary enough, but knowing that luck always shunned away from me, this self-discovered truth took an even more miserable place in my life. I've been through so much or so little depending the way you see it, but in the end the torture was all mine to bear. In my opinion and because of my emotional disability, I always saw the glass as half full . . . half full of brooding and desperation sure but still things could have been worse.
I took a risk. I never took risks. For me being alive was a fucking risk. I looked up at the huge board, I stood still while people pushed me as if I was an invisible rag doll, and I madly calculated like a mathematician with a new discovery. The transporter ship- The Hunter- Gratzner. The name held a certain feeling of triumph. Hunter...I wished that if there was something I was good at that hunter would be it. I was in search of something. The journey important. I chose it. Labeling myself something simple, something that would fit my new persona, I boarded and thought of the months in cryo-sleep, where I would be in a nice, safe cocoon- inside a glass prison -- nothing getting in and nothing getting out. What I wasn't planning on was something damaging the vessel that held my imaginary protection. My last thought before slipping into a motionless aired sleep reserved for the dead was: Jack . . . a new person . . . a new beginning.
Author::: HazeLavendar
Rating::: Overall: NC-17 for language, some mild violence, and explicit sex
Category::: Gen/Het
Pairing::: Riddick/Jack
Summary::: I've given Jack an unusual personality (is psychotic too harsh a word?) and allowed her to run rampant . . . how is this going to affect everyone? . . . especially Riddick?
Disclaimer::: Don't own anything PB related.
Feedback::: Would be quite appreciated. I accept constructive criticism and even flames.
Archive::: No, thank you . . . . It's already archived
Notes::: 1) This disclaimer shall only appear in the first chapter. 2) The story doesn't only revolve on what happened on the planet . . . no need to worry.
::: CHAPTER ONE :::
My life was an illusion. My being no longer mine. People saw what they wanted and for this I was ultimately grateful. I groaned and I griped about the way it had to be, but secretly and mostly hidden from view I was satisfied. Everything was easier. I would smile or I would cry. With people, I was an echo of them. If they were bubbly and cheery, I would make flippant comments about the latest rumor floating around. If they were somber and contemplative, I would discuss the pains and sorrows of the world. It was vital that no one realized just how jaded I was. No one knew me, and I was starting to think that maybe I just didn't know myself.
Early on I had realized one very haunting truth. No matter how hard it would be, how much it would hurt, or how scarring the situation would be, I would make it through and have to deal with the pain and consequences. This in itself is scary enough, but knowing that luck always shunned away from me, this self-discovered truth took an even more miserable place in my life. I've been through so much or so little depending the way you see it, but in the end the torture was all mine to bear. In my opinion and because of my emotional disability, I always saw the glass as half full . . . half full of brooding and desperation sure but still things could have been worse.
I took a risk. I never took risks. For me being alive was a fucking risk. I looked up at the huge board, I stood still while people pushed me as if I was an invisible rag doll, and I madly calculated like a mathematician with a new discovery. The transporter ship- The Hunter- Gratzner. The name held a certain feeling of triumph. Hunter...I wished that if there was something I was good at that hunter would be it. I was in search of something. The journey important. I chose it. Labeling myself something simple, something that would fit my new persona, I boarded and thought of the months in cryo-sleep, where I would be in a nice, safe cocoon- inside a glass prison -- nothing getting in and nothing getting out. What I wasn't planning on was something damaging the vessel that held my imaginary protection. My last thought before slipping into a motionless aired sleep reserved for the dead was: Jack . . . a new person . . . a new beginning.