AzulaTano: Sure, Dougie's fine. :3
...Well, except for...
Nah, I'm sure it's nothing.
Shades of X: James is insanely clever, rather like Apollyon. Just not quite as powerful.
DD4L and Guests: Thanks :3
Bree?
"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."
"If you are going through hell, keep going."
Winston S. Churchill
"The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones."
Confucius, Confucius: The Analects
Bree
Bree spent the next several days practicing the manipulation of physics.
She picked the heaviest of items she could find in Apollyon's hoard and attempt to lift them. More often than not, she failed at it. She was so dead-set on the idea of Earth's gravity that she couldn't seem to let it go. She could roll a few things, but that was it.
Stupid gravity. Stupid memory of gravity.
Chase was always so cheerfully polishing things that Bree wanted to kick him. How could he be happy? How could he not be aware that he was being controlled? It was so irritating. So irritating!
She was determined to break Apollyon's hold, if only so that she could make sure Chase knew she was annoyed at him for his seemingly weak will.
Bree knew, in the back of her mind, that Apollyon was aware that she was practicing. A few heads would give her an amused or annoyed look occasionally. However, he seemed not to mind all that much.
You'll never succeed, little girl, one of the heads thought at her. You're too in love with Earth.
These thoughts had been occurring for as long as she had been trying.
They only made her more determined to succeed.
Occasionally, she found herself lifting large things without thinking about it. She had no idea how. She hadn't even been thinking about it when she did. When she realized that she was lifting something she shouldn't have been able to, it immediately became too heavy for her to hold. It was annoying. How could she manipulate physics when it only worked if she wasn't aware that she was doing it? It was almost more annoying than Chase being controlled.
One good thing, however, was that Bree found herself getting stronger.
The sword was no longer impossible to lift. She could now lift its tip off the ground an inch or two. She could only hold it up for a second or two, but she could lift it! Besides that, she kept the blade shining, the water pattern throughout the metal gleaming beautifully in the light from the lava pools that filled the place.
This was something that annoyed Chase. He would grumble about how he had to polish extra treasures because she spent so much time cleaning the blade. However, he wouldn't touch the blade himself still. The magic he said it radiated deterred him from touching it, so she had to clean it every day.
It was all fine with her. She was perfectly happy cleaning and studying the sword. Her sword, as she had started to think of it. She knew it wasn't true. It was Apollyon's sword, not hers. But she couldn't help but think of it as hers. She cleaned it. She studied it. It was as if it was a prized possession of hers. It was certainly the only thing she didn't mind polishing.
If only she could pick it up fully. She didn't know how to wield it, but she could show it the respect a weapon like it deserved by carrying it properly. Maybe its magic would activate, and she and Chase could somehow escape because of it. She hadn't come up with a plan that would actually work yet on her own. A magic sword of dumb luck would certainly help.
You'll never succeed, little girl. Give up.
Bree set her jaw, setting the sword aside awkwardly because of the weight. She was going to escape, damn it! It would be nice if she could take the sword with her, though. If only to spit in Apollyon's face.
"When angry, count four. When very angry, swear."
Mark Twain
"The bittersweet about truth is that nothing could be more hurtful, yet nothing could be more helpful."
Mike Norton, Just Another War Story
Perry
"For Christ's sake, I don't know."
The soldier – or sergeant, maybe? Whoever was bothering her – sighed heavily. "Ma'am, if there are survivors in Mission Creek still –"
"Then I don't know where they are," Perry snapped, her hands tightening on the armrests of her wheelchair. Stupid chair. She wished she wasn't stuck in it now, but her legs just wouldn't work anymore.
"You saw them, though, right?" The man was persistent. "What direction did they head in?"
"I don't know," Perry snapped. She hated being interviewed. "North, maybe? I was kind of focused on them leaving me to die!"
"And taking a prisoner?"
"For the tenth time, yes," Perry hissed. May they kill Kevin. That would leave Douglas single and mourning. Grief made people more snuggly.
The man – Perry hadn't bothered to remember his name – frowned. "Why did they take him and leave you?"
"They're crazy? Who cares?" Perry wasn't about to tell anyone else that she had summoned a demon, causing the Hunters to leave her to die. She didn't know how the military would react, and she wasn't about to find out.
"Any idea where survivors might be hiding?" pressed the man.
Perry sighed heavily. "Underground? Outside the city somewhere? I don't know." She just wanted to be left alone.
The man nodded thoughtfully, writing something down. "Thank you." He stood up, finally, thankfully, leaving the hospital room she had been stuck in since she woke up hours earlier.
"And shoot Xaranthi if you see her," Perry muttered before wheeling out of her room. Maybe now, she could leave. However, almost immediately, nurses were wheeling her back to her room, saying something about watching her.
Perry crossed her arms. Stupid military for wanting to talk to her. Stupid hospital, keeping her here. Stupid Hunters, leaving her behind. Stupid afrit, attempting to kill her and putting her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
She could do nothing about the hospital and Hunters, but she did promise never to summon another demon ever again. And to strangle Xaranthi when she got the chance.
Stupid afrit. Stupid demons.
