Underworld: Aftermath (Chapter Two - Wiping Clear the Mirror)
R (in case)
action/romance/adventure/sequel/spoilers
ensemble cast
Summary: 3rd Installment in the series, where I have moved on to address the goings on of another character. Everything picks right up from where the movie left off, and there is some entering into the characters thoughts about what has already happened.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but the situations they are in are *mine*.
*************************
Personal disclaimer: All I know, is what the movie and various posts have shown me about what has come to pass in Underworld. I intend to read the book very soon, but until then, I can only write what I know. If things need to be altered, I may or may not alter them, but I will definitely accommodate future chapters with the appropriate and necessary changes. For the record: In the movie, the vials did not break, therefore, Lucian is alive...he will remain alive. (Ain't no fun without him.)
sf
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It must be raining.
Such warm misery. Unfocused, Selene leaned against cool tile, arching her back. Her body was ever so weighed down. Roughly shaking her head, a moment of reprieve awakens into her consciousness. "I'm still clothed," her inner monologue chides her. Too much of her energy has been depleted for her to get angry. She pushes something heavy from her side, and with a flash the world explodes.
Deafened, Selene feels pain. Her shattered fibia mocked her startled gaze. Selene's form convulsed, and she slid to the floor. Involuntarily, a moan escapes her already contracted lungs. Still, Selene was numb. Her reason had already processed the events that had transpired this evening, and her reason balked at her desire to do it again. Death, so much death. Much over the years, much by her own hand...what had she Done?
Deception was not a game she took lightly.
Now, finally able to recognize that she had been a Pawn...or a deceived Queen, really...the game had changed. Marcus. Oh, Viktor was gone, but Marcus was much more than a new "problem." At least in Viktor, she had had a more pliant King. She had loved Viktor. Even comparing this new turn to chess was ridiculous. Viktor had been reasonable. Marcus is the King, but of her familiar chessboard...nothing was as it had seemed. Except the pain. Marcus was Not reasonable.
Her shin was taking its sweet time healing. Concentrating on the immediate torment, Selene took a choked breath, and began to think about the way forward. Her options were extremely limited. She could kill Michael Corvin, however, this would solve nothing. She would still be held to account for Viktor. The final confrontation had been witnessed by none, but they would undoubtably recognize her handywork. Sacrificing Michael was not only not enough, but fruitless--his innocence and her feelings were but minor points.
Turning herself in was suicide. Although, she would be subject to the council--no, there Was no council. Shit. There was nothing, only Marcus. Marcus meant death. Death might even be fair...but the injustices that had been committed for centuries meant more to her than the Vampyric codes, now. Only she and Michael knew the truth. She and Michael needed to live.
So she could run. She and Michael would run. Slowly, Selene began peeling off her clothes. Weapons first. How had she even ended up here? The blur left behind by the automatic pilot was probably a saving grace. Who cares. She knew she was safe for the time being. And wet. And now, naked.
Bracing her arms against the tiled walls on either side of her fallen form, she pushed outward until her strong legs could assume the full weight of her body. Her mind was taking back possession of her brain. The war...what had Michael said? He said he knew what started the war. Viktor as much as admitted his role... What turn this war might have taken, was now assured. Absolute extermination. The even pace the Deathdealers had been doling out their assassinations during the last century was about to be turned up full flame.
They had walked out, leaving the Lycans at their back--but what of them? They were not at fault for their Master's war. But a nation without its leader was at its most vulnerable to attack. From murderer, Selene suspected, her role had shifted to that of protector. Of Michael, she knew, he was the Lycans' most valuable legacy and now hers to protect. Could she leave the rest of the horde to fend for itself in the face of certain death? Gathering her strength, Selene began breathing more normally now. Any tears she may have shed were immediately washed away by rivulets that ran down the length of her body.
Selene had been an instrument of others for so long. Did she have the power to lead? "Do I have the power?" Startled, she realized she had spoken aloud. It gave her courage. Not because she knew she had the ability, but because she had made the decision. "I have the Power," she murmured, nodding to her acknowledgement of purpose.
The injustice of her family's death had been the beginning. This new catalyst brought her new resolve. New Power. Now more was expected of her than ever before. It was not a choice. It was acceptance. One might argue, enlightenment.
Turning off the faucet, Selene gave a sharp shake of her head. Eyes glowing blue, she lightly shoved the frosty glass open. Gathering a rough towel around her, she stepped out and onto the slick tile floor. The water vapor covering the ovular mirror made it appear like a Lycan eye fending off transformation.
In the sink, Lucian's medallion glowed. Wet and ancient. Dropping her hands she cupped them around the ageless ornament. Raising it up and clasping it around her neck, she fingered the accessory with one hand. The other absently traced letters in the mist.
"L-U-C-I-A-N"
Wiping clear the mirror, Selene observed her gothic covenant with her sworn adversaries with mild satisfaction--as well as a certain sense of deja vu. Disgusted, she waited until her image was once more clouded with a fine mist. She could not share her blood with the dead Lycan. Dead men, however...could still tell tales. Michael, still, was the key.
Turning, she lifted her sopping clothes from the floor of the shower. Selene wrang them vigorously and set them on the empty towel rail to dry. Her weaponry, she placed in the porcelain basin.
Her arms locked at the elbow and she hung her head over the basin. If she was going to accomplish anything, she was going to need a lot more hardware.
R (in case)
action/romance/adventure/sequel/spoilers
ensemble cast
Summary: 3rd Installment in the series, where I have moved on to address the goings on of another character. Everything picks right up from where the movie left off, and there is some entering into the characters thoughts about what has already happened.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, but the situations they are in are *mine*.
*************************
Personal disclaimer: All I know, is what the movie and various posts have shown me about what has come to pass in Underworld. I intend to read the book very soon, but until then, I can only write what I know. If things need to be altered, I may or may not alter them, but I will definitely accommodate future chapters with the appropriate and necessary changes. For the record: In the movie, the vials did not break, therefore, Lucian is alive...he will remain alive. (Ain't no fun without him.)
sf
************************
It must be raining.
Such warm misery. Unfocused, Selene leaned against cool tile, arching her back. Her body was ever so weighed down. Roughly shaking her head, a moment of reprieve awakens into her consciousness. "I'm still clothed," her inner monologue chides her. Too much of her energy has been depleted for her to get angry. She pushes something heavy from her side, and with a flash the world explodes.
Deafened, Selene feels pain. Her shattered fibia mocked her startled gaze. Selene's form convulsed, and she slid to the floor. Involuntarily, a moan escapes her already contracted lungs. Still, Selene was numb. Her reason had already processed the events that had transpired this evening, and her reason balked at her desire to do it again. Death, so much death. Much over the years, much by her own hand...what had she Done?
Deception was not a game she took lightly.
Now, finally able to recognize that she had been a Pawn...or a deceived Queen, really...the game had changed. Marcus. Oh, Viktor was gone, but Marcus was much more than a new "problem." At least in Viktor, she had had a more pliant King. She had loved Viktor. Even comparing this new turn to chess was ridiculous. Viktor had been reasonable. Marcus is the King, but of her familiar chessboard...nothing was as it had seemed. Except the pain. Marcus was Not reasonable.
Her shin was taking its sweet time healing. Concentrating on the immediate torment, Selene took a choked breath, and began to think about the way forward. Her options were extremely limited. She could kill Michael Corvin, however, this would solve nothing. She would still be held to account for Viktor. The final confrontation had been witnessed by none, but they would undoubtably recognize her handywork. Sacrificing Michael was not only not enough, but fruitless--his innocence and her feelings were but minor points.
Turning herself in was suicide. Although, she would be subject to the council--no, there Was no council. Shit. There was nothing, only Marcus. Marcus meant death. Death might even be fair...but the injustices that had been committed for centuries meant more to her than the Vampyric codes, now. Only she and Michael knew the truth. She and Michael needed to live.
So she could run. She and Michael would run. Slowly, Selene began peeling off her clothes. Weapons first. How had she even ended up here? The blur left behind by the automatic pilot was probably a saving grace. Who cares. She knew she was safe for the time being. And wet. And now, naked.
Bracing her arms against the tiled walls on either side of her fallen form, she pushed outward until her strong legs could assume the full weight of her body. Her mind was taking back possession of her brain. The war...what had Michael said? He said he knew what started the war. Viktor as much as admitted his role... What turn this war might have taken, was now assured. Absolute extermination. The even pace the Deathdealers had been doling out their assassinations during the last century was about to be turned up full flame.
They had walked out, leaving the Lycans at their back--but what of them? They were not at fault for their Master's war. But a nation without its leader was at its most vulnerable to attack. From murderer, Selene suspected, her role had shifted to that of protector. Of Michael, she knew, he was the Lycans' most valuable legacy and now hers to protect. Could she leave the rest of the horde to fend for itself in the face of certain death? Gathering her strength, Selene began breathing more normally now. Any tears she may have shed were immediately washed away by rivulets that ran down the length of her body.
Selene had been an instrument of others for so long. Did she have the power to lead? "Do I have the power?" Startled, she realized she had spoken aloud. It gave her courage. Not because she knew she had the ability, but because she had made the decision. "I have the Power," she murmured, nodding to her acknowledgement of purpose.
The injustice of her family's death had been the beginning. This new catalyst brought her new resolve. New Power. Now more was expected of her than ever before. It was not a choice. It was acceptance. One might argue, enlightenment.
Turning off the faucet, Selene gave a sharp shake of her head. Eyes glowing blue, she lightly shoved the frosty glass open. Gathering a rough towel around her, she stepped out and onto the slick tile floor. The water vapor covering the ovular mirror made it appear like a Lycan eye fending off transformation.
In the sink, Lucian's medallion glowed. Wet and ancient. Dropping her hands she cupped them around the ageless ornament. Raising it up and clasping it around her neck, she fingered the accessory with one hand. The other absently traced letters in the mist.
"L-U-C-I-A-N"
Wiping clear the mirror, Selene observed her gothic covenant with her sworn adversaries with mild satisfaction--as well as a certain sense of deja vu. Disgusted, she waited until her image was once more clouded with a fine mist. She could not share her blood with the dead Lycan. Dead men, however...could still tell tales. Michael, still, was the key.
Turning, she lifted her sopping clothes from the floor of the shower. Selene wrang them vigorously and set them on the empty towel rail to dry. Her weaponry, she placed in the porcelain basin.
Her arms locked at the elbow and she hung her head over the basin. If she was going to accomplish anything, she was going to need a lot more hardware.