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I've Got No Strings; Private; Caedyn/Jane tag
Topic Started: Oct 8 2016, 12:46 AM (1,192 Views)
NotAFlyingToy
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Oskar Pearce, God Help The Outcasts))

The fingers of dawn stretched across an auburn sky, cupping the night in a blistering palm as the sun rose in view over the landscape of the garden. Oskar sat, his back to a tree, as the world shifted from night to day in a beaming sparkle of colour, warming his bones and opening his eyes.

Some said that the sun was hope against the bleak, warmth against the cold of night, joy amidst the lingering fear and dread that darkness draped itself in.

Whatever hope, however - whatever warmth and joy was to be gleaned from the colour that erupted around him, was tamped out when the speakers began to blare.

He listened, rigid, spine stiff from the position he hadn't moved from all throughout the night. His mouth tightened into a firm line, jaw bones expanding outward as he clenched his teeth. One hand lifted upwards, toying with his spider bite.

It had begun.

His gaze slid to Caedyn, his head cocking in a kind of question. His eyes darted towards Jane, Jane's bag, as the announcement continued to sound.

One eyebrow lifted.
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NotAFlyingToy
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Sure we do," Oskar said, easily lifting himself to his feet and stretching his fingers to the sky. His shoulders shifted, muscles tightened, and he let out a little sigh, shaking himself out.

He moved closer to Jane, shield at full, teeth showing wide.

"You okay?"
Edited by NotAFlyingToy, Oct 8 2016, 11:57 AM.
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NotAFlyingToy
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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"Mm," said Oskar in reply, continuing to advance towards her. They were a half-dozen paces apart, his footfalls feeling heavier, forced, a quaking in his lower lip that he shifted his head downwards to hide.

In his mind, he looked brave as he approached - the image of control. He pictured it so clearly, even when he fought against his limbs, trying to keep them straight and true.

There was a weight in the waistband of his shorts, related to the little book he'd read by moonlight in the shadow of the tree.

"We will be," he said, his right hand coming up, gesturing towards the bag she had.

"With that."
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NotAFlyingToy
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Oskar reached towards her, palm outstretched, and crooked his fingers.

"Listen, let's not make this, y'know. Difficult."

He smiled, talked in a soothing voice.

"Give me the pack, please."
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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Oskar's gaze flicked to Caedyn as Jane snapped back, eyes sliding back towards the animated girl, who had closed the distance between them.

He took another step towards her.

"Not a thing," he said, keeping those soothing tones, one hand stretching forwards again, "not a thing. We don't want this to get violent, just..."

He flexed the fingers of his open hand.
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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Oskar reached backwards with his free hand, dug the weight from the base of his spine, and pulled the little pistol out, pointed it at Jane.

"You're not," he said, and, following the moonlit page instructions, flicked the safety off with his thumb.

His shield was down, now, the deft motion of the safety flicking off reminiscent of the daisy chains he'd crafted so carefully, fighting down panic. His mouth was a serious line, his open palm cupped under his hand - his gun hand - steadying the quake that threatened to betray him.

"Give it to me."
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NotAFlyingToy
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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Oskar advanced again - two steps forwards, more of a shuffle than an actual walk, adopting those stances that you saw on television. His lips twitched, eyes remained unblinking. Four good sized paces between them, now - nowhere to hide for at least half a dozen yards.

"Step back from it, Jane."
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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The response had his eyebrows drawing down, teeth lightly gnawing at his lip just above the spiderbite.

"Jane," he said, and his voice quivered a little, "I've got the gun."
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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Oskar tilted the gun, then, pressing it against the soft flesh of Jane's neck.

"Back up," he said, and his tone made it sound like a question.
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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With the barrel still at her neck, indenting the skin around it, he flinched.

His finger squeezed the trigger, and suddenly he couldn't hear, smelled burning, and everything was wet.
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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Slowly, Oskar lowered the gun, his hands hurting from the kickback, eyes wide as he stared down at Jane's gurgling form. The pistol hung limp from his fingers, swaying lightly from side to side, the fingers of dawn still growing, stretching, as if to embrace what had just been done.

He turned towards Caedyn, and there were tears in his eyes, gore covering his face, his eyelids, staining his teeth coppery.

He stared at her.
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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One eye twitched as he watched her - the smallest of movements - as the pistol still swayed from his fingers, gently moving from left to right.

"Y-" he started to say, before the coppery taste and scent of blood hit his tongue, forcing him to turn and cough - once, twice, before retching into the grass. Dry-heaving, really - nothing in his stomach to come up.

Oskar turned his head to spit, but stopped halfway, remembered himself, and used a sleeve to dab at his mouth, eyes trained now on his shoes.

"I guess," he said, unsure, shaky.
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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The right thing. Her or us. The right thing.

Caedyn had nodded to him.

She didn't give you any choice. The right thing.

Caedyn was speaking, still, speaking normally, as if he wasn't covered in someone else's blood.

Jane was dangerous.

Caedyn's tone was soothing, making his stomach twist, squeeze.

You saved both of us.

The gun came back up, pointed at Caedyn, now, and his eyes followed.

"I want you to leave."
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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There were tears now, mixing with the drying gore on his face and mingling with the salt on his skin. They fell in between big gulping sobs, shaking his shoulders and making his lips curl inwards.

"I don't need," he said, but he did. Too much.

"Why is this happening."
Edited by NotAFlyingToy, Oct 15 2016, 02:39 PM.
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
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"Promise," he spat through dazed lips, and looked at her hand, wide eyed through ugly tears that made it longer, blurrier.

He didn't take it, but he let the gun fall further to his side, stared at the ground.

"Okay," he said, his voice quiet and watery.
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