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Ticking Like a Time BombTicking Like a TimeBomb
In all appearances, the hotel room hosted an air of quiet relaxation, away from the busy-ness of the everyday life schedule. Caravi's body happened to agree with that, no matter what his mind said. The drugs that his captors had pumped into his body had done their job well. The body was unwilling to move- much preferring the calm state of rest that the drugs offered. His mind, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with the rest that promised death. Inwardly, Caravi felt the flutter of time as it passed, feeling every ion within the continuum, and raged at the fact that there was nothing he could do in order to save the world from himself. He could hear them setting up their highly sophisticated machinery in the adjoining room of the suite, and the seconds continued to tick by, softly and steadily counting away until the end approached. It was so calm, so relaxing just to lie there with nothing else to do but sleep, but the knowledge of wh
Six Feet Under ScreamsOn the outside, Caravi was his usual cheerful, chipper self. Like an open field practically bursting with energy, life, and a sense of well being, Caravi seemed to have hardly a care in the world. It was a mask, the others slowly began to realize, that he had been wearing for a very long time, and had accordingly had plenty of time to perfect. The reality behind the mask, behind the disguise, was a grave. Six feet beneath the flowing fields and flowers, lay death. Beneath the calm facade, Caravi housed a growing monster of reality. Screams of anguish and ignored pleas for mercy reverberated through his core, not even ceasing in his sleep.
Caravi rarely slept any more. The very sound of death twisted around even the best of his dreams and hopes, turning them aside and twisting them into nightmares. Caravi kept these things to himself, seeing no reason that the others should even know of his troubles. There was nothing that they could have done, anyways,
Roll Off Your ShouldersRoll Off Your Shoulders
Nearly three years had passed since the war, and all seemed to have settled back down into an almost pleasant routine. For the first time since reaching a full recovery after his escape from the Earth hotel room, Caravi had stepped foot off of the ship, declaring that he was "healed well enough" to be getting on with life, and that what they all needed was a breath of fresh air. Accordingly, as he was the first to step out, Caravi was also the first to get a face-full of the warm green rain.
"It's raining." he muttered to himself. "Though.. it's the winter rains, they're certainly warm enough, and not too heavy either. A nice, relaxing balance of the metal ions, theta particles and electric-transient waves."
"Sorry; but what did you say?" Thristal asked, watching in wry bemusement as Caravi continued to stand just outside, swiftly becoming utterly soaked.
"Hm? Oh... it's the rain." Caravi said. "You should really come out here, it's a warm
Twists and Turns of Fate"No." Caravi said frigidly.
The others looked at him in blank astonishment. "What do you mean, no?" his captors asked, as if astounded that he would even dare to defy them.
"I mean precisely what I said." Caravi retorted, straining against the restraints once more in a clearly futile attempt to free himself. "I refuse to let you inside my mind."
They laughed then, the cold, highly amused sound bouncing off the walls to pound on his eardrums that were already bruised from a previous attempt to break his mental shields. Sound waves, he could have told them, would do little good, save from giving themselves a major headache while he only suffered a minor one and damaged eardrums.
"I would think," one said, "that you would have realized by now. There's nothing you can do about it."
Caravi privately had to agree with them on that one. He was beginning to loose circulation to his hands and feet, so well tightened were the restraints at his ankles and wrists. There were no less then three bro
Skies Turn GreySkies Turn Grey
It was if time itself had slowed to little more then a crawl. Caravi stared up at the empty space above his face, barely comprehending any of what his senses told him in the aftermath.
The force of the explosion had sent him flying backwards until a certain brick wall abruptly stopped his motion. The high tech bricks, even with their shock absorbing layers, were a rough way to stop his backwards movement. Caravi crumpled to the ground, half supported by the wall, and most unwilling to move. After a few moments of stunned immobility, Caravi ventured to take a breath. He instantly regretted it. Fire burned through his body, alighting on the ends of what seemed like each and every one of his nerves. His hands of course, received twice the inferno. Distantly, on the other side the the war that the pain waged against his body, Caravi wondered if he'd ever be able to use them again. The blast wave had broken nearly every bone, strained each te
Hanging from the CeilingCaravi slowly blinked awake, his vision swimming above him. There was a bed, he decided, and it was definitely beneath him. Other then that, he wasn't sure. Caravi allowed his heavy eyelids to fall shut once more as he concentrated, trying to remember what had landed him here, wherever and whenever 'here' even was. Slowly, bits and pieces of the memories returned. He had gone back to further investigate the odd bundle of fibers on the last planet, in the shipping yard, and then... things went fuzzy. Caravi frowned, and stared at the ceiling several feet above him. Something was off, but he wasn't sure of it. There! It was hanging from the ceiling... then again, it wasn't. Caravi blinked, then re-focused. There was nothing on the ceiling. He was sure of it. Something was interfering with his mind, again. Caravi groaned slightly under his breath. Three days of confusion and the inability to make sense of much of the outer world was starting to wear on him. It had been a fool's
Hideous Beast Inside#112 Hideous thing Inside
For days, Caravi refused to speak to anyone. For the most part, he locked himself in his room, the soundproof door a solid barrier between him and the rest of the world with it's prying, poking, painful questions. The team knew that something had happened between his departure for the 'quick battle' and his return- half conscious that it was. He had taken a full four days to physically recover, but after that, when it seemed like things were almost back to normal despite his frequent and extreme mood shifts, Caravi turned off. It was the best way that they could think to describe it as. They had woken up one morning to find that Caravi had simply shut out the world.
It was painful. Caravi, no longer able to distract his thoughts with the healing processes necessary for his body's recover, found himself tormented with the weight of what he had done. Or, as the case was, hadn't done. He was no longer Caravi, peace keeper and protector to the innocent.
Brighter then the MoonBrighter then the Moon
The door to the communications room swung open, followed by Caravi who barely made it into the hall before collapsing into a boneless heap on the floor.
"Caravi!" Gravor exclaimed in surprise as he hurried out from behind the bank of controls.
Caravi eyelids flickered, and his mouth parted in a wordless moan, but other then that, there was no response.
"Zimot!" Gravor hollered down the hall, hoping that the man was withhin hearing range. Footsteps echoed down the hall as Zimot skidded into the room, his look of confusion flickering to understanding once he took in the scene before him.
"Jumping between Time dimensions?" he asked, one hand counting out Caravi's pulse, the other checking his eyes for some sign or another.
Gravor nodded, causing Zimot to sigh.
"Then there's not much we can do, aside from getting him to his room and waiting for him to wake,"
After making sure that the ancient creature was comfortable in his own bed, Gravor hurried back to
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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