wrongkindofsith | Room 418, Sunday Morning

Current Mood: nauseated

Entry tags:

Room 418, Sunday Morning

Flanked by her sisters, she strode through the halls of the temple, her braid a familiar (too heavy, too tight) weight behind her head, her leathers (constricting) pristine, her chin raised (her skin crawled) with pride (disgust) as Lord Rahl told her about her gift "...untouched, I know you don't like others playing with your possessions."

She hesitated before taking the agiel Dahlia offered, instead watching the figure who hung in the middle of the chamber, chained and near-naked. The sickly green instead of warm and familiar reds bathing the walls lent everything an air of wrongness.

"If you don't one of us will." Denna, voice low, smoky, and covetous. "We're all eager to play with him."

Angered (afraid) she wrapped her hand around the handle of the agiel and struck...

...unchained, he knelt by her feet, staring up at her in blank adoration as she absently ran white-gloved fingers through his hair. "Good boy, Clark."

Cara wasn't really the type to bolt upright when waking after a bad dream. Of course, she didn't usually bodily launch herself off the bed while still half-asleep to land in an ungainly tangle of limbs after not bolting upright either, but somehow she managed that today.

[ooc: for that one guy]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Usually Clark was the one starting from impossible dreams and waking Cara by landing on her. Um, not that he hovered in his sleep - that would be insane.

Clark jolted suddenly with the motion, gasping in his half-asleep state. "I'm awake, mom!" His eyes opened at the same time his hands closed around the form sharing the bed with him. Right, not his mom. Much hotter, much more....freaked out. "Cara?"

Still not entirely awake, Cara's immediate reaction was to try to kick and punch her way free.

Good luck with that.

Yes, because kicking and punching Clark worked really well. "Hey!"

Knowing that eventually she would hurt herself trying to hurt him, Clark did his best to back off and get out of her way when all he really wanted was to hold her. "Cara!" he shouted, hoping like hell she would wake up and quit this attack.

Amazing how she could from frenzied attack to near-complete stillness in the time it took to properly open her eyes.

"I'm fine," she managed. The clammy skin, tense muscles, and rapid breathing? All indicators she was perfectly fine. "Go back to sleep."

Clark took this as a sign he was able to move in close again. "Right, because I can sleep after being assaulted awake. You don't look so okay."

"I said I'm fine," and if she said it enough times, it might be the truth. "The bruises have all healed."

Her attempt at an inviting smile probably would've worked better if she'd been able to force her body to relax too. "You can check if you'd like." It'd provide as good a distraction as any, and not just for him.

"You know, for all you say the word, that doesn't actually make you fine." Clark felt as if they'd had this conversation before. "Especially when I didn't ask about the bruises, but you brought them up. Were you dreaming about last weekend?"

Well Cara was stubborn, especially when it came to actually admitting she had feelings at all, let alone talking about them. "No." That much at least wasn't a lie. "Why would I?"

"Because it was seriously messed up?" Clark replied. He'd been quiet on his thoughts before, but if she was waking him up hitting him, well, that was a good reason to open his mouth.

Cara shrugged. "It was nothing." She should have been sleeping peacefully for days, not getting worse. "I've had worse."

That was probably not going to overly reassure him.

"It wasn't nothing. They stopped you from fighting by threatening me," Clark pointed out. "I know what that's like, Cara, and it's not fine." It hurt to admit it, since he'd been so safe from that stuff in Fandom, but Clark remembered his parents and Lana and Chloe and Pete, and how anyone knowing what he was always put them in danger.

"I should have been able to walk away," Cara bit out, unaware of the way she was hunching in on herself. "Not been so weak."

"They had magic on their side," Clark pointed out. "Not that it did them much good in the end, but..."

"They weren't keeping me there with magic." The harshness in her tone wasn't directed at Clark.

"So how were they keeping you there?" Clark had to ask.

"Rahl made it clear there would be repercussions if I left. So I stayed." The damning thing was she'd do it again.

"Repercussions for me," Clark filled in. "You know now that he couldn't have hurt me for long."

"It wasn't him I was worried about." Truthfully, if it had only been Rahl in the room there wouldn't have been much left for Clark to threaten. "Nicci's capable of much worse than a Wizard's Web."

"Well, you were probably right to be worried about her," Clark admitted. "But I don't understand why you're upset that you were worried."

Her voice was small and utterly miserable as she asked "Do you have any idea what he would have had me do you?"

Clark felt horrible that he could have anything to do with Cara sounding so...not like her. "No, please, just tell me?"

Edited 2011-03-20 23:56 (UTC)

"He'd have made me break you. One way or the other." Cara hadn't even realised she'd drawn her knees up to her chest until she was digging her nails into her shins. "He wouldn't even know you existed if it weren't for me."

Clark tried to slide closer, wanting to hug her while she hugged herself. "Oh Cara, you can't blame yourself for things that didn't happen."

Sure she could. It wasn't like she wasn't already a horrible person.

"You didn't hurt me," Clark reminded her. "Even that Nicci didn't hurt me."

"She could have." At least she was actually looking at him, now? "I could have."

"The part where you didn't is kind of important, Cara," Clark said. "No matter the reason, it didn't happen."

Oh, sure, be logical about it. "It does in my dreams," she finally mumbled.

Well her dreams were horrible and Clark didn't approve of them. In fact, he was judging them harshly.

"They're only dreams."

"They don't feel like it at the time." Cara cast a glance towards her leathers just to reassure herself they were still red instead of white.

"Am I broken now?" Clark wondered, glancing down at his chest and holding his hands out for her to see.

Moody was Cara was, she wasn't going to pass up an invitation to look over Clark when we was wasn't wearing too much by way of clothing. "Not if the way you keep arguing with me is any indication."

Clark couldn't help laughing at her tone. "So then what's the problem? That you care enough not to want anything to happen to me?" Because Clark didn't see this as a problem, exactly.

That was because Clark was something vaguely resembling emotionally well-adjusted.

"I'm not supposed to." You'd swear she was admitting to kicking puppies in her spare time or something.

"Um, can I ask why the hell not?" Clark kind of liked that she liked him back, duh.

"Mord'Sith are supposed to master our emotions, we're not supposed to want...things like that." Talking about feelings was hard.

"So you're saying you're supposed to want to own me, not love me?" Clark supplied for her. He wasn't all that great with feelings, but at least he knew the words.

"Something like that." On those rare occasions she let herself think about it, she kind of had a history of not managing to make that stick. "But I don't."

At least not beyond wanting to cause severe pain to anyone who got wandering hands where he was concerned.

"And...do you want to?" Clark wasn't sure how he felt about being owned...but he kind of thought of his parents as owning one another.

"I don't want a possession." She might have been a confused mess of emotionas, but Cara was clear on that much.

Though if he was amenable to being tied up on occasion she was hardly going to say no to that.

"What do you want?" Clark had to wonder if he had it.

"You." It wasn't like Cara went around making declarations of love just like that. Or at all, really.

Oh, poor Cara, having to suffer through a massively grinning Clark trying to hug her again. "You know you have me, right?"

Oh, yes, see how she was fighting so terribly hard to get away. Clearly he would simply pass out if she hugged him back hard enough. "You're kind of subtle about it."

She'd just have to tell him when to stop hugging her so no one died. "I think that was sarcasm."

That probably wouldn't be any time soon. "You noticed?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Room 418, Sunday Morning

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject