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Post by Aston Martin (187) on Sept 13, 2009 9:20:19 GMT -5
Aston usually didn't try to fight what was done to her in this place. Simply because this place was all she knew. Even if she was to escape, she had no idea where to go, how far they were from civilization. She would most likely die before she found a town. so there was no threat with her wandering through the edges of the forest with her hands shoved in the pockets of her old leather jacket. Her jeans she had when she got here were covering her long lean legs, holes and rips in them from use. She was barefoot, simply enjoying the feeling of the cold ground beneath her feet.
She allowed her mind to wander, trying to remember anything she could. Sadly, there wasn't much. She remembered a car crash in an Aston Martin Vanquish. She could remember the car flipping over and over and over until it finally came to a stop. She could remember her head hitting the winsd shield, hard enough that it left a spider web crack through the entire driver's side. But what had happened after that? And the pain began in the back of her head. It always did every time she tried to remember how she got to this hellhole.
And then the usual frustration began. She ground her teeth together, nearly growling in aggravation. She could never remember much, and when she did, it hurt. Caused a shooting pain to pierce the back of her skull until she had to stop, where she did not have a choice.
She rubbed her temples with her forefinger and thumb before rucking her hand back into her pocket. She needed a cigarette...but she had run out days before. Suddenly, she picked up something, just from the edges of her vision. Someone else was out there with her. She froze, stopping to listen.
Footsteps.
Soft but barely there.
She waited to see if her uninvited companion would speak, as she was afraid to. The last thing she needed was to be stuck in the dark with one of those sadistic staff members.
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Post by Viktor Molonov on Sept 15, 2009 20:12:33 GMT -5
Viktor really wasn't one for nature. He much preferred to be in his lab, with the door locked, deeply delved into his latest quest to move humanity even closer to perfection. Some called it a silly dream; he called it claircognizance. He was going to accomplish that goal someday; he knew it with every sense he had. He could see the utopia around him, hear the joy that rang in the air, taste and smell and feel the oh-so-sweet success that he knew would come. But he wouldn't find it today, because today he had to leave his lab behind. Today, he had to take a hike into the forest, a territory that was foreign, even to the great scientist.
Why, one might ask, why was Viktor bothering with the wilderness at all? Surely he had better things to spend his time doing than trudging to the disgusting muck---and he most certainly did---that he wouldn't have to bother with anything outside the labs. But there was one job that Viktor needed to do himself, since Starikovich---the only other who knew the location---was busy with his own experiments (or busier than Molonov himself anyway). What Viktor had needed to find was a hidden door, to the labs of course. Or rather, to the catacombs. It was the second entrance, hardly ever used by anyone who wasn't incinerating old bodies. It opened up from a downhill slope on the north side of the building, and was almost completely hidden by the surrounding brush.
An infuriating rumor had reached Viktor's ears, that there was a resident climbing down into the catacombs and heading out into the wilderness through that door. Or perhaps it was vice versa: coming in through that door and hiding in the dark maze. Whichever the scenario, Viktor had a feeling he knew who the culprit was. But whether it truly was his troublesome younger cousin, or someone else he'd just happened to overlook, or even just a courageous staff member, he couldn't be entirely sure. Yet, it definitely seemed like a Jules move, so for now, the blame would fall to him, in Viktor's mind.
He'd gone to lock the door, so whoever was using it would be in for a surprise on their next visit. He was on his way back toward the lab, when slightmovement caught his eye. He knew it couldn't be any intruders; the building was hundreds of miles away from civilization. It was a staff or a resident, and the only thing to discover was which of the two it was. As he drew nearer, Viktor could tell it was a resident, mostly because it certainly wasn't someone he'd hired.
She was attractive, not that Viktor noticed that. His eyes no longer saw beauty. They saw only enough to make one judgement: was she the type to throw herself at him, or would she fight him back if he tried? And so far, he didn't know enough to make the call.
A small, devious smile pulled at his lips as he strolled a little closer. "What's a delicate little thing like yourself doing out in the forest?"
notes;; Sorry love, that took me ages. |
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Post by Aston Martin (187) on Sept 20, 2009 16:32:19 GMT -5
Aston's mind was whirring, trying to decide what to do. Fight or flight? Fighting would most likely end bad. She was a tiny thing, made weaker by this hellhole she was in. And flight would show weakness, show she was afraid. She refused to show fear, to show that this place frightened her, to show she thought there was better out there.
A voice came from behind her. "What's a delicate little thing like yourself doing out in the forest?" She knew that voice. Aston had always been one for voices, she remembered them better than faces. And that was Dr. Molonov. She nearly sighed in irritation, but restrained the urge before turning.to look at him. Her dark curls flowed down her front and back, one of her delicate eyebrows arched to him. Rebellion was spitting fire inside of her, telling her to lash out, to say something nasty. But her common sense told her to be quiet. But common sense was slowly loosing.
And finally it gave up.
"I was simply trying to find something pure in this God forsaken place, but you had to come along and paint that black too." She snarled, her English accented voice as cold as the air around them. "But of course, what else is to be expected?" Despite that fight was acting, flight was in the background. She was standing in a position that if he were to lunge at her, she could easily spin and run.
If she could out run him was questionable, she was rather weak. This prison allowed no time for her to even regain any body strength. When she had first woken up here, she had been in great shape, but slowly it had begun to wither away until all that was left was enough to get her by.
She looked like a cat watching it's pray, and if she had a tail, it would have been twitching. And she waited for Molonov's reply, be it physical or verbal.
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