Sometimes when she was alone, her thoughts drifted to times when life hadn't been measured by the timing of heartbeats, and the sight of blood didn't immediately cause a ringing in her ears. Where she came from was far from this coastal metropolis, further inland and forgotten, always under appreciated by those outside it's realm. There had been long nights in the darkness, chasing lights on the winds, followed by days in murky swimming holes with nothing on but a smile. Piper hadn't come from privilege or power or pride, but she had still thought herself clever having sneaked away from the fields and mountains of another life. It was in these recollections she felt regret, a tangible trinket she toyed with in the pitch of her confinement, and it never really stopped eating away at her thoughts. One did well remembering their roots, their home, but sometimes her memories were blurry images rather than vibrantly recorded relay.
Sometimes, she could barely make out the faces of her loved ones.
For now, the youth was so drugged and worn that being separated from the chair wasn't much a task, save for the initial lifting. There wasn't much in the way of weight to her, just muscles that needed to stretch and grow, with the shapes of bundled bones poking out in barer places. Knobbly knees and jutting elbows, ribs that stuck out a bit too far - yet her face remained pleasant, attractive in it's sleepy gaze. There was no light to her eyes, but if one looked hard enough, they could imagine what it must have looked like when there was.
He was right to think the journey would hurt, and it did, though Piper didn't seem willing to put up much fight or complaint on the matter. Her vision blinked in and out of involvement with their travels, head resting against his chest, ear to the sounds of his breathing. Even when half present, Piper didn't dare release the grasp she held on the blanket. Where were they going? He was promising home. Sweetling, he called her, and he promised home. Something about these words made her heart soar, but whether there was any truth to them, she didn't actually pretend to know. Assuming their organization was beyond trickery seemed awful naive. Especially of the woman who had been tied to a chair just moments before.
Expressing some sort of appreciation to being outside her once prison, Piper hugged close, making her frame seem even more desperate and bare like a weather wracked sapling. There wasn't much to say though, being he was well aware of where he intended to take her, and she was unfortunately not. The warmth and quiet of the trip did wonders for her nerves though. Pale ginger lashes blinked up at his features from time to time, trying to absorb as much detail as she could while he wasn't looking, though being caught didn't stop the stares. How she perceived this hero may have been considered natural, and hawkish peering assured her there wasn't much else to settle on. The roads beyond, the various sights of the city, and inevitably, their destination.
This was not her home.
Marched before a series of faces she didn't recognize, the man carrying her seemed to emit importance, as their actions were subservient to his. Even the woman who offered him a meal was completely for show, far too much facade for the injured woman to understand or respect. This was another strange home she hadn't accepted being dragged off to, a tower where the world below the skyline ceased to exist. A prospect that frightened Piper was that she had yet to recover from her last ordeal and already she was being moved to another cell. Regardless his intentions, the man she was with hadn't asked where she was from or where she needed to go. He hadn't even called the police, instead shuffling her around like some sort of luggage he had picked up used at the swap meet.
Cognizance returned when she was among pillows and finery, on sheets of presumably his bed. "A bath." The first time she had spoken since her initial thanks, and it was a flat whisper directed his way before she scrunched into a ball to hug her knees, laid sideways on the bed. Piper didn't face her blond companion while he made his call, instead studying the choice of comforter with a mixed impression. What sort of kinkster love nest had she fallen into? Comically, Piper found herself deciding she had fallen into the clutches of the Illuminati, and there would be a sacrifice, and a ceremony, and she was going to be the guest of honor.
"When do I die?"
Sometimes, she could barely make out the faces of her loved ones.
For now, the youth was so drugged and worn that being separated from the chair wasn't much a task, save for the initial lifting. There wasn't much in the way of weight to her, just muscles that needed to stretch and grow, with the shapes of bundled bones poking out in barer places. Knobbly knees and jutting elbows, ribs that stuck out a bit too far - yet her face remained pleasant, attractive in it's sleepy gaze. There was no light to her eyes, but if one looked hard enough, they could imagine what it must have looked like when there was.
He was right to think the journey would hurt, and it did, though Piper didn't seem willing to put up much fight or complaint on the matter. Her vision blinked in and out of involvement with their travels, head resting against his chest, ear to the sounds of his breathing. Even when half present, Piper didn't dare release the grasp she held on the blanket. Where were they going? He was promising home. Sweetling, he called her, and he promised home. Something about these words made her heart soar, but whether there was any truth to them, she didn't actually pretend to know. Assuming their organization was beyond trickery seemed awful naive. Especially of the woman who had been tied to a chair just moments before.
Expressing some sort of appreciation to being outside her once prison, Piper hugged close, making her frame seem even more desperate and bare like a weather wracked sapling. There wasn't much to say though, being he was well aware of where he intended to take her, and she was unfortunately not. The warmth and quiet of the trip did wonders for her nerves though. Pale ginger lashes blinked up at his features from time to time, trying to absorb as much detail as she could while he wasn't looking, though being caught didn't stop the stares. How she perceived this hero may have been considered natural, and hawkish peering assured her there wasn't much else to settle on. The roads beyond, the various sights of the city, and inevitably, their destination.
This was not her home.
Marched before a series of faces she didn't recognize, the man carrying her seemed to emit importance, as their actions were subservient to his. Even the woman who offered him a meal was completely for show, far too much facade for the injured woman to understand or respect. This was another strange home she hadn't accepted being dragged off to, a tower where the world below the skyline ceased to exist. A prospect that frightened Piper was that she had yet to recover from her last ordeal and already she was being moved to another cell. Regardless his intentions, the man she was with hadn't asked where she was from or where she needed to go. He hadn't even called the police, instead shuffling her around like some sort of luggage he had picked up used at the swap meet.
Cognizance returned when she was among pillows and finery, on sheets of presumably his bed. "A bath." The first time she had spoken since her initial thanks, and it was a flat whisper directed his way before she scrunched into a ball to hug her knees, laid sideways on the bed. Piper didn't face her blond companion while he made his call, instead studying the choice of comforter with a mixed impression. What sort of kinkster love nest had she fallen into? Comically, Piper found herself deciding she had fallen into the clutches of the Illuminati, and there would be a sacrifice, and a ceremony, and she was going to be the guest of honor.
"When do I die?"
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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