[When Huvrye sleeps to heal, he sleeps lightly; evidently the idea behind that design was to be able to wake up easily and get away if whatever hurt him was still around. He sleeps lightly after being shot, but eventually still heals. He doesn't need to sleep often after that, and he's been putting it off for as long as he can manage. The first time he sleeps after healing, it's easy and dreamless.]
[The second time he sleeps, his luck runs out.]
[He's strapped to the chair again, bindings tight across his wrists and elbows, blood dripping down his face along the lines of his alchemy. His guts aren't in his lap yet. They're not that far yet. Something to look forward to.]
[Hopefully he'll wake up before that part, because he does not want to do this again.]
[(Hopefully everything after this hasn't been a dream. Hopefully there's reality to wake up into, and that it hasn't all been a pain-fueled hallucination and he's still here-)]
[He hears a giggle - if he never hears that voice again it'll be too soon - and lifts his head, knowing what he'll see. The members of Interground that he knew - his friends - Joba - dead in a heap on the floor, tortured and murdered thanks to his failure. He looks up, and-]
[It's not them-]
[It's not them-]
[It's worse-]
[It's Hunter, broken and bloodied, chest stilled, facing away from him (he can't see Hunter's face; he doesn't want to see it, because he knows what he'll see). It's Mark, facedown on the floor, spine twisted in a way he knows a human can't survive, shattered glasses a few feet from his head. It's Leo-]
[It's Leo, slumped over a chair, bleeding from dozens of wounds. His right arm is missing, wound hastily tied off but still dripping; his legs are shattered, bent the wrong way; and a deep crack runs up his shell, threatening to spill if forced any wider. His shell moves, up and down slowly, as an agonized breath rattles out of his mouth.]
[Leo is still alive.]
[Leo's alive-]
[Huvrye's gaze snaps upwards, from the perfectly manicured but gore-spattered hand holding Leo in place on the chair, to the beautiful stained-glass rainbow wingspan, to the bright, awful smile on the face of Kyriena Ketta. First lady. Chief interrogator. Main player in Huvrye's nightmares.]
No-
[That smile widens as she gets his attention. "You knew this would happen, didn't you? You got too close. The other two didn't last nearly long enough, but this one is fun." She curls her fingers into the crack in Leo's shell and squeezes. A ragged gasp breaks Leo's breathing, but nothing else - he's too far gone to fight back, but still very much awake.]
No- please-
[He's begging- it won't do anything, but it's all he can do-]
Let him go- he's a kid, Kyriena, let him go!
[That predatory smile widens even more, sharp at the edges. She's enjoying this, and there's nothing he can do to get her to stop- he can't help- he can't save anyone- this is his fault-]
["This is what happens when a weapon thinks it can be anything else," she says brightly, adjusting her grip on the broken edge of Leo's shell before she yanks-]
[A sickening series of cracks splits the air, not loud enough to cover the sharp gasp that fades into a death rattle-]
[And Huvrye screams-]
NO!
[The scream follows him into the waking world as he bolts upright, overbalances, and nearly collapses off the bed. He scrabbles to right himself, shaking off the dream (it had better have been a dream- it had better have been a dream-) and yanking blankets and sheets off of him. He's not there. She's not here. He's in his apartment, in Michigan, in the wrong dimension, and she can't get them here.]
[It's still going to take him a minute to catch his breath and convince himself of that.]
For Leo | Early May| CW torture, gore, all sorts of unpleasantness
[The second time he sleeps, his luck runs out.]
[He's strapped to the chair again, bindings tight across his wrists and elbows, blood dripping down his face along the lines of his alchemy. His guts aren't in his lap yet. They're not that far yet. Something to look forward to.]
[Hopefully he'll wake up before that part, because he does not want to do this again.]
[(Hopefully everything after this hasn't been a dream. Hopefully there's reality to wake up into, and that it hasn't all been a pain-fueled hallucination and he's still here-)]
[He hears a giggle - if he never hears that voice again it'll be too soon - and lifts his head, knowing what he'll see. The members of Interground that he knew - his friends - Joba - dead in a heap on the floor, tortured and murdered thanks to his failure. He looks up, and-]
[It's not them-]
[It's not them-]
[It's worse-]
[It's Hunter, broken and bloodied, chest stilled, facing away from him (he can't see Hunter's face; he doesn't want to see it, because he knows what he'll see). It's Mark, facedown on the floor, spine twisted in a way he knows a human can't survive, shattered glasses a few feet from his head. It's Leo-]
[It's Leo, slumped over a chair, bleeding from dozens of wounds. His right arm is missing, wound hastily tied off but still dripping; his legs are shattered, bent the wrong way; and a deep crack runs up his shell, threatening to spill if forced any wider. His shell moves, up and down slowly, as an agonized breath rattles out of his mouth.]
[Leo is still alive.]
[Leo's alive-]
[Huvrye's gaze snaps upwards, from the perfectly manicured but gore-spattered hand holding Leo in place on the chair, to the beautiful stained-glass rainbow wingspan, to the bright, awful smile on the face of Kyriena Ketta. First lady. Chief interrogator. Main player in Huvrye's nightmares.]
No-
[That smile widens as she gets his attention. "You knew this would happen, didn't you? You got too close. The other two didn't last nearly long enough, but this one is fun." She curls her fingers into the crack in Leo's shell and squeezes. A ragged gasp breaks Leo's breathing, but nothing else - he's too far gone to fight back, but still very much awake.]
No- please-
[He's begging- it won't do anything, but it's all he can do-]
Let him go- he's a kid, Kyriena, let him go!
[That predatory smile widens even more, sharp at the edges. She's enjoying this, and there's nothing he can do to get her to stop- he can't help- he can't save anyone- this is his fault-]
["This is what happens when a weapon thinks it can be anything else," she says brightly, adjusting her grip on the broken edge of Leo's shell before she yanks-]
[A sickening series of cracks splits the air, not loud enough to cover the sharp gasp that fades into a death rattle-]
[And Huvrye screams-]
NO!
[The scream follows him into the waking world as he bolts upright, overbalances, and nearly collapses off the bed. He scrabbles to right himself, shaking off the dream (it had better have been a dream- it had better have been a dream-) and yanking blankets and sheets off of him. He's not there. She's not here. He's in his apartment, in Michigan, in the wrong dimension, and she can't get them here.]
[It's still going to take him a minute to catch his breath and convince himself of that.]