Whispers in the Dark (Aello)

[Seth]

49th of Spring, 511 AV. Whereabouts unknown. You will be A backhand across the face. The taste of blood welling up within her mouth. Where was she? What had happened? Why did her entire body ache? The girl would attempt to struggle, but would find that her wrists and ankles were bound. She was tied to a wooden chair, rendered helpless by the ropes wrapped around her. For a moment, she would struggle. A fist smashed into her mouth, an angry cry echoing out. "Stupid bitch!" Pain exploded through her skull, a tooth snapped, and her head arched back. A hand grabbed her by the hair, yanked her back, and once again the fist was planted solidly in her face. Another explosion of pain, and once again, the taste of blood. It was dribbling over her tongue, and gushing out of her mouth. There was a lot of it. Then there was nothing but darkness. ----- "Aello. I will always watch over you. I always have." ----- She snapped awake, hours later. A bucket of cold water had been poured over her head, drenching her and waking her. The taste of blood was still alive in her lips, and a new sensation had been added to all the pain. Freezing cold. Her clothes were torn to shreds, sharply cut by some kind of blade, small and bloodied cuts marking her pale skin. Where was she? Why was she here? What was the last thing she could remember? Walking down some street in Ravok, softly whistling with Yune... and... and... there had been some kind of sound to the left, and then... A hand grabbed her hair, and forced her to look straight up. She was in darkness. Water dripped from above, a slow and steady drip, periodically landing on her nose. It trickled down her neck, over nearly-bare breasts, over a bruised stomach. Had she been struck in the stomach? Her face was swollen as well. How badly was she beaten? Was anything broken? Who was holding her? It was too dark to tell, and her head hurt too badly to come up with anything. There was nothing logical about this. Any normal attacker would have simply robbed her, raped her, or murdered her. But this, this was different. "Why do they want you? What do they want me to do? They demanded you, now that you are here, they won't tell me what to fucking do!" Her hair was yanked back, and the chair rocked. Within the next second, she was flung forward, unable to stop her face from free-falling toward the floor. Her skull struck cold stone, and she was once again cast into darkness. ----- "I am still watching. I am still here. Trust me. Be strong. I love you." ----- She awoke, sitting in the chair once more, beaten, bloodied, soaked to the bone, trembling and cold. Everything was gone from her body but her torn clothes and her dagger, which always managed to make it's way back. In front of her sat a presence, one that she would barely be able to make out in the dark room. "Tell me about the voices. Who are they? Why do they want you? What am I supposed to do?" The voice was desperate and pained. There was a hint of madness to it. Throughout it all, throughout the throbbing pain, the fear, the cold, and the questioning... a single clear sentence would still be ringing in her head. "I love you." "Tell me how to make them stop. Or I will break you, just like they broke me."

[Aello]

Aello's head was leaning up against the upper-most wooden beam that comprised the chair. She could feel it digging into the back of her neck, just before her long brown hair began to grow. It stung a little, but Aello ignored that. Instead, she concentrated on the pain that was surging through the rest of her, the fact that she was sopping wet. She could feel little beads of water nestled into the spaces between her hair follicles. How several strands of hair clumped together from the moisture. If she really listened, she could hear the water slide off small clusters of her wet hair, and drip onto the floor with a gentle plop. Her hair spiraled over the top of the chair, and cascaded downwards towards the floor. Several strands had wrapped around the back of the chair as well, while others clung to the edges of Aello's face, framing her eyes, and still others, curled into her pale pink lips. Aello could smell something metallic, blood, mixing with the water she had been doused in. It made everything smell so damp, clingy; like it does after newly fallen rain. Aello licked her lips, as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Why do they sting so damn much? Aello wondered, as a trickle of partially dried blood fell onto the edge of her tongue. She pulled her tongue back into her mouth, and allowed herself to savor the taste of her own blood. Metallic; a little cold. That particular bit couldn't be more than a few minutes old... a few hours... She seemed disoriented, as she allowed her eyes to close for a moment, shutting everything out. She tried to take a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, but it hurt so very much, as soon as her chest expanded to try and let in the air, she was overcome by sharp shooting pains. Her wrists twisted despite their being bound, and her legs would have shot forward if her ankles were not also bound by rope. As she fought, the rope dug into her flesh, causing the skin to grow red an irritated. Aello bit her bottom lip, trying to distract herself from the momentary pain in her ankles, and her wrists, but it only made things worse. You have already been cut there stupid, Aello's brain scolded as a small stream of fresh, warm blood began to make its way out of a small cut in the center of her lip. It trickled down to the edge of her chin, before pooling into a tiny droplet of red rain, and falling into the center of her heaving, aching chest. This is ridiculous, her mind told her, although it seemed quieter than before, somewhat far away. Everything hurts... you cannot move. There is blood and water, and everything is all wrong. Aello's bottom lip trembled as a shiver shot up her spine. Several hairs on the back of her neck, and on her arms, were standing up straight, despite some of the water that lingered on her flesh, keeping the remainder in place. Aello finally opened her eyes. How did we even get here? How did this happen? What happened to the bow, the quiver? Where is Yune? Aello didn't need to look to know the dagger was resting on her right thigh. It always returned to her. It was always there. A lifeline which she currently had no access to. And what is all this nonsense about voices and being broken? Aello allowed her gaze to rest on the shadow of the one who sat across from her. They must be the one who brought you here. Who did this to you. They should be thankful we can't get to the knife, or we'd cut out their tongue for their madness. And then all their fingers, one by one, just to make sure they couldn't bind us again... There was a long silence within the girl's mind as she waited for the shadow to say more. As she waited to be told about her presence here. Why she was tied to a bloody chair. Why she was drenched in her own blood, and a bucket's worth of water. Why she was covered in bruises, and could hardly breath. How long was it since she had been outside? Seen the light of day? Aello wanted an explanation for her treatment, and she wanted it now. But when none was offered, she finally decided to speak. "Whh... where are we?" she asked, in a shaky voice, "and what are we doing here? Where are all my things, and why did you take them from me?" There was a slight pause, as Aello shook her head lightly, sending a few strands of long brown hair over the wooden beams that supported the chair. Sending the back of the chair further into the flesh at the top of her neck. "Why did you take us off the streets?" Aello asked, finally beginning to refer to Yune, as well as herself. Aello closed her mouth for a moment, allowing for her saliva to build up. After a few seconds, she swallowed it, in the hopes that it would help wet her dry throat, and bring strength back to her voice. The saliva didn't do much other than make the girl's neck hurt. Aello sighed, and lifted her head a little higher, so that she could stare at the shadow a little more intently. "And what is all this nonsense about voices?" she inquired, her voice a little stronger now, but not by much. It still sounded hurt, dry, uncertain. "For there are none. No voices..." OOCYou must forgive me for the lack of action in this post, and the lack of speech, considering Aello has been beaten to a pulp and tied to a bloody chair!

[Seth]

A heavy sensation would suddenly flood to her hip, and then like that, the dagger would once more exist, tucked beneath her tattered clothing to hide itself away. It had come back to her like always, although that didn't really help. She still couldn't reach it, tightly bound as she was... but perhaps it would give her a little bit of hope. The familiar weight was something, especially in such a harsh enviroment, one where everything was foreign to her. "We are in an old house. My house. I spent everything to get my own house, a house not rented out to me by the Black Sun. I just wanted to own something of my own, do you understand? Soemthing of my own, for once. I wanted to be a free man, away from everything that this damned city controls. But even in here, the voices control me! You can't hear them now, for they aren't speaking... but they asked for you! By name! They must know you, and you must know what they are talking about! Help me!" His voice sounded so pleading. So desperate. So lost. This was his home, and he was being driven crazy by the 'voices' that existed inside of it. Aello would be able to hear a bit of muffled weeping as his voice cut off, his despair taking him over. Then, suddenly, his hand lashed out once more, slapping her across the face. "Hurry! Find out what they want! I will be back in an hour, and by Rhysol, you better have done something by then. Talk to them! Something! When I get back... if they aren't gone..." The threat wasn't spoken, but there obviously was one. He growled at her, sobbed a bit more, and then sunk back into the shadows. She would hear footsteps distancing themselves, then the open and close of a door. He had left. For what, who knew. So there she was, alone, bound, bleeding, and soaking wet... and helpless. What was she to do? The voice rang out again, deep within her mind. I love you.

[Aello]

Why is it now that the body begins to feel so very heavy? Aello wondered, as she fought to keep her eyes on the outline of the one who had bound her. Like it could sink into the earth, and the moisture that clings to the flesh could water the soil that surrounds it? Feed the grass that grows over it? Aello's mind was silent for a moment, before it spoke to her again, lazily at first, before it seemed to grow more urgent. He knows of the dagger, for it has only just returned to your side now. You were wrong before spiritist, your mind is not as it once was. The pain that courses through her veins has changed you. The water has doused your senses, dulled them. The loss of your own blood; your life force; has weakened you. You cannot think clearly anymore... make the proper judgments. Perhaps what he says is sane, and what you say is insanity. What you think is false, but it cannot be for you hear nothing. But doesn't inching closer and closer to death dull everything? Make everything seem so very peaceful... you have been close before. Walked the line between life and death. But that was long ago, you are not used to it now... this amount of pain anymore. It has weakened you. Made you think some things are when they are not... the dagger may not be the first of this. It may not be the only trick your mind has played on you. He knows of it Aello, which means he must know who and what you are, on some level... especially when he claims that the voices asked for you personally, Aello thought before her mind slowed down for a moment, he knows Aello, what you are. How weak he has made you. He holds all the cards, all the power... tread lightly... "Of course," Aello finally whispered, as she drew in a ragged breath. The dagger felt heavier and heavier, with each moment that passed. Her hair seemed more and more logged with water, and each time a droplet fell onto the floor, the plop seemed louder and louder. Their gentle splash as they each split apart, as her skin had for him.... "Everyone wants something they can call their own. Something that no one else can take away from them," Aello finished, as she stared intently at the shadow. After that, Aello fell silent for a long time, simply listening to the man's madness, or perhaps, his wisdom. What voices does he speak of? They don't seem to whisper to us like they do to him... they don't seem to torture us with their words... Aello watched the outline of the man leave her, and felt strangely relieved. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that no eyes were on her now that helped settle her nerves; the pounding of her heart. But that did not change the fact that she was still tied to a chair... I love you. "Who are you?" Aello whispered into the darkness. OOCSorry this isn't much, and is probably a bit confusing. I am just playing around with Aello's paranoia... intense emotions... and um general fear about her current state of being. She isn't really one who likes giving up a notion of control.

[Nathan Longstride]

Permission from Help Desk to mod this thread till completion.

The woman finally acknowledged the voice ringing in her head. She called out to it, hoping for an answer. Simply what, or who, it was. Why would she do such a thing? She already had one voice in her head who talked to her nonstop, and she hardly questioned it. But why would this newcomer draw her attention? There was no question that she was crazy, and maybe this voice came with a new tier of her insanity. Or maybe it came from her dagger that rested on her hip. Or maybe it really was something. Of course you wouldn't know me. We haven't see each other in so long. You might've forgot me, but I never forgot you. This would certainly draw questions out from Aello's interior, either from herself or the voice inside her head. Who was the owner of this voice, and when had she met it? Why was its tone so. . . casual, as if they had been close? It was a real mystery on top of the mystery of why she was captive in some unknown home. Was this one of those voices? It was I who got those voices started. They long for you, Aello. But really they long for what you can do. They seek help. We all do. The questions would continue to pile up in Aello's mind. How did this voice know her name? How did he know what she was, and why did the voices need her? Paranoia was a tough thing to overcome, and it probably would be overwhelming her with the unknowns. The voice didn't continue speaking for a few moments, leaving Aello sitting alone. But she wasn't left bored. Slowly, Aello would begin to smell the sweet smell of roses. It would fill her senses, bringing back some memories. Maybe it reminded Aello of her past. And even if it didn't, the next smell probably would. The aroma of roses drifted away, replaced by the smell of burning wood. It felt as if smoke was clogging her throat, choking her of all air. It felt as if soot was in her eyes, and she couldn't reach it at all. And then the voice spoke once more, the sensations disappearing as if they were never there. I remember those smells too. We both loved smelling that smell after we came in from playing outside. We had to share her till the very end. And then the threads that connected us were burnt away. On that fateful day, we lost our mother. On that day, I lost my life. But I never lost you, sister. I've always been there. The voice quiets down, as if to let Aello absorb it all. The voice had named himself. But how would she react? And how could he help her?

[Aello]

"Your voice is not at all familiar to me. I know naught who you are, and yet you seem to know everything about the one tied to the chair, covered in her own blood..." Aello whispered, her voice trailing off, as she fought to keep her eyes open. "The one whose clothes clings to her skin, for she has been drenched in cool water." Aello trembled at the mention. "How can one be forgotten, if one does not remember who it is that they are forgetting?" she asked, before growing silent for quite some time. Allowing her body to rest, in part, as she strained herself to listen to the words being whispered. As she forced herself to stay conscious so that she may hear them all. Her stomach churned as the scent of roses filled her nostrils, and then the smoke. Aello coughed several times as she shut her eyes tightly, trying to get the scent to go away. But it didn't seem to lessen. Perhaps though, that was more a function of her inability to forget, than anything else. It still lingering in the air. "Why remind me of these scents brother? Why remind me of the day we lost both of our parents? That I lost you?" she whispered, as her voice broke, and her eyes began to water. She opened them slowly, as the first of her tears began to fall. Trickling down her cheeks, washing small portions of her blood away. "Why remind me of the day I lost my family? That I lost everything?" she sobbed, her chest rising and falling more rapidly as she cried, causing her insides to churn as her flesh stung. As sharp shooting pains coursed through the length of her slender form. "What can I do?" Aello whispered. "To help... to change anything. When you're all already lost? When most of myself has already left this plane... faded away?" she whispered, as she cast her gaze down at the ground, her chin folding into her chest.

[Nathan Longstride]

The voice, better known as Leon, didn't answer his sister. She sobbed without any control, and he stayed silent. Not to let her relive the fateful night long ago, but because he didn't know how to answer. He pondered this a moment, unseen by Aello, before he finally answered. You haven't lost everything. You have your life to live. And, although you never knew, I've always been here. Through your ups and your downs. The tone Aello hears inside her head is sounds almost like her brother cared. And he really did. He didn't want to see her cry, nor bleeding in a chair. There were many things he didn't wanted to see her do, but he had no control of his sister. But now he did, and she needed him. She needed his help. But before he spoke to her again, he listened to her plea. Leon knew exactly what needed to be done. He understood the task at hand for her. But for this to work, she needed to listen to him. Dear sister, you can't change anything that has already happen. But your help is needed. The present is meant to be changed. But can you accept anything that is thrown at you? Leon grew quiet once more. He needed an answer before they could go any further. And even then, Vulpin was the key to it all. The key to death, and Aello was the one who had to unlock it. But could she do it?

[Aello]

Aello sniffed as she struggled to keep the tears from falling. It hurt so much to hear from her brother; it hurt to remember, to be forced to think of what had already come to pass. Perhaps that was why she refused to think of such things on a regular basis, if at all. She hated the pain it caused. She hated how she couldn't have her mental ailments stitched up by the best practitioners of medicine. She hated how they simply could not be cured by the best of herbal remedies. Aello hated how unlike the physical, she was forced to endure the torture her mind could inflict. For at least, the physical she could treat. Aello sniffed a few more times, and after Leon had grown silent for several moments, Aello looked up. She peered into the darkness, her eyes almost unblinking, as though they had settled upon Leon's flesh. As though she could see him clearly as she spoke. "How is the present meant to be altered brother?" Aello asked. "Why is it not meant to unfold in this manner? Why can't time simply flow, unobstructed by man? By mortal life?" The tears had finally stopped falling. Aello's eyes had grown puffy, and were now lined by a rim of red as she sniffed. She remained silent for a long time. "Don't I always accept what life throws at me brother? Don't I always find a way to deal with it?" she asked, waiting for him to quit dangling bits of information in front of her, and tell her what was going on. She hated when Leon did that. It was one of his favorite games, in life...

[Nathan Longstride]

No matter where Aello looked, she couldn't see Leon. His reason for not appearing was unknown to her. But she knew he was there, in the room. She could hear her brother's voice for the first time in years. But she probably also noticed how having her brother around didn't change anything. She was still tied to the chair, still captive to an unknown opponent. Everything that had happened since that fateful night was done with the presence of Leon. And yet they happened without her brother stopping it. All her troubles with hypontists. The murders, the ghosts, the mortals. Doubt might set in with the voices inside of her head if not Aello herself. How could she trust someone who was there but never was? Did the term brother change it at all? The present will be changed, Aello, with your gifts. How you act with not only change the present, but also the future. Your key to this all is the talent you've had for years. By now, Aello probably would've figured out that her skill in spiritism will come into play to whatever situation she was caught in. No details were revealed, but she knew how to handle this. But why must ghosts always have the patience of a rock? Why did they take their time when the mortals they worked with didn't have that time? Not because they were growing old by the second, but those they usually visited were in danger. Maybe they weren't always tied to the chair, soaked to the bone, and covered in bruises and cuts. But Aello was, and Leon took his time. Aello, I would've thought by now you'd learn that mortals have no control over time. The gods control the men, whether they know it or not. And might I just say that you're opponent this evening is anything but a mortal. So don't worry about those silly little men you've fancied yourself with. You're troubles are on the other side of the spectrum. If Aello was paying attention, she could slowly piece together the situation. No mortal would be fought this evening, so that meant something of the undead lurked outside her room. Be it Nuit or ghost, she did not know. But would Leon even mention the gods if it mattered little at the moment? Could've he hinted at Aello's troubles laying with opponents more powerful than any ghost? This truly was tough for Aello to handle. But she had accepted all that life threw out her, always succeeding where failure should've happened. When Leon spoke again, pride was evident in his tone. And the sound a boy would make when he messed with his sibling. Loving, but harsh. I'm proud that you've handled everything up to this point. You grew the pair that I never could. But be wary with I'm about to tell you. Draw yourself up, Aello, and listen like the powerful woman my sister grew up to be. I mean, after those horrible men and that midgit, I figured you could handle almost anything. But I need you as calm as you can be before I continue. So Leon fell silent once more. Aello needed to be calm for the plan her brother had ready. It would push her to the limits, both physically and mentally. And the plan itself was insane. But maybe it was good thing Aello was already insanse. Maybe it just ran in the family.

[Aello]

Aello snorted. "Of course they would pull all of our strings," Aello whispered. "Surely they have nothing better to do than meddle in the lives of man. Use us as their playthings because life... wherever they live... gets so very tedious after a time." The girl paused for a moment, wishing she could raise her hands and tuck all of her loose strands of hair behind her ears. Wishing she could do more than jerk it painfully, in a sad attempt to get all of her hair out of the way, at least, for a time. "It figures... that whomever my current problem is wouldn't be mortal," Aello went on. "The only thing that really matters though, is if we're fighting a god, or goddess, or one of those filthy undead bastards. The nuit," Aello growled before spitting on the ground to her right. "Filthy beings, taking the lives of the living... bodies, just so they may extend their miserable existence a little longer." Aello spit again. "Bloody abominations is what they are," Aello finished, as she spit on the ground once more, just for good measure. "They should all be rid of this world, in the name of the lady of death, Dira. They should all come to meet her, and sooner rather than later." Aello paused for a moment. "At least their bodies are frail. Easily fought... much like those who tend to stick around, once their time on this plane has supposedly ended." She coughed up a bit of blood, which drizzled over the edge of her chin, before falling into her lap. "Ghosts..." With that, Aello closed her eyes, taking a few moments to draw in a few breaths. To hold the air in her lungs for several seconds, until they stung and she could bare it no longer. Until she was forced to let it all out, before repeating the process, over and over until her heart had quit its beating like a drum. When she came to a point when she was calm, Aello opened her eyes. "What is it you mean to tell me brother?" Aello growled. "Leave nothing out, hold nothing back."