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Post by starrea on Nov 10, 2020 5:29:39 GMT
Out of all the countless possibilities Julian could have responded with, Kinsley was left genuinely surprised by his answer. Her first reaction was to recoil defensively, to pointedly remind him that she didn't need to heal. The argument was poised, tongue sharp and ready to strike when her thoughts caught up to her a second later and abruptly extinguished her indignation. She remembered the giant, gaping wound where her foot used to be and she felt foolish; of course she needed to heal, and she needed Julian to help her. Her mind was still reeling from his brutal confrontation of her sexual assault and she had automatically linked his words to her fractured mental state. Harvey had hurt her that night, an unavoidable truth, but retribution had healed her. Regardless, her time with Harvey had been priceless; he had given her permission to be the person she always had been, and showed her a whole world of possibilities that she fully intended to explore. In the end, that night was a small price to pay for everything she had gained.
His next question saved her from deliberating over whether he thought she was broken. The question sparked delicious desires within Kinsley, lighting a flame within her that she knew she couldn't feed. Kinsley hadn't been much of a masochist until she got to prison. The dull monotony and lack of interaction made time warp, making Kinsley question whether she was real or not. The pain was something real that she could cling onto, something to affirm that she was real and time was passing. The colors of the bruises would fade from purple and black to yellow and green, and finally to nothing at all, and Kinsley could be sure that even though her world had stopped, time still forged forward. It wasn't long until it became a source of entertainment, something to look forward to. After years of almost consistent solitary confinement with no stimulation, anything - even pain - was a welcome distraction to break up the maddening consistency of the days. But it was different now; Kinsley was out of prison, freed from the stifling repetitive schedule and pulsing with enough pain to ground her a thousand times over. Still, her stomach erupted with butterflies at the thought of Julian's hand closing around her throat, or her body decorated with bruises left by him. Her bloody stump was already a brand he had left on her, but the idea of more physical traces of him left on her body had her practically salivating.
As enticing as the idea of bearing the marks of Julian's brutality was, it was unrealistic. She was weak as it was; after just having awoken from a feverish coma-like state, she was weak from fighting infection and hunger. Her gaping injury, while healing, would make it hard to travel. She would be slow, forced to painstakingly relearn how to navigate without an integral part of herself. It simply wasn't smart to add to her injuries, not when they weren't safe. Whether or not Julian shared that same sentiment was unknown, but she wouldn't argue with him. She could restrain herself far enough to avoid asking for him to mark her body, but she wouldn't be strong enough to refuse him.
Kinsley suddenly turned towards Julian, her gaze snapping to stare at him with big, green eyes. She shamelessly angled her chest towards him, leaning forward ever so slightly and reached out to delicately rest a hand on his chest. She wasn't afraid to flaunt her body and she knew that Julian had been deprived of satisfying his sexual needs for so long. Julian had already assured her that he wasn't a rapist, and Kinsley was suddenly inclined to test that theory. Her fingers delicately traced down his chest, but her eyes never left his face.
"I think I deserve to be pardoned. You can't blame me for feeling threatened, I'm sick and injured and I know what you are. And anyways, I've always been underestimated my entire life - just because I'm a woman. Everyone expects me to be weak and scared and submissive. It's like they were always for some explanation as to why I did the things I did... like, when I started cycling, or when they tried to tell me that I only killed the family dog because it bit me, or when they thought Harvey was forcing me to take drugs. It was all me," Kinsley wasn't going to make the same mistake twice; Julian had just called her out for lying, so this time, she laid her truth all out on the line. She doubted it was going to be enough to make him reconsider, she honestly, she didn't really care. Curiosity spiked her interest and her mind was full of all the possibilities of what he planned on doing to her.
"What are the rules? And what are the consequences if I break them?" As much as Kinsley wanted to know what he planned as her punishment, she stifled the question. She figured she would find out soon enough. Anyway, it was important to establish exactly what he wanted out of her, down to the smallest details. She could already guess that he didn't want her drinking, something she planned on disobeying, but she wanted to know the consequences of breaking his rules before she acted out. Based on his neurotic, unyielding aura, Kinsley guessed that Julian had a very specific vision for her and didn't want her existing outside of the lines he would create for her. She doubted that she would conform to his vision of her, but she wanted to know what it was nonetheless. As she spoke, her fingers trailed further down his body until they were circling right above the cusp of his pants. She traced the outline of his pants across his waist one way, and then back the other.
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Post by Val on Nov 21, 2020 0:56:17 GMT
Julian did not like to be teased. The second Kinsley’s hand touched his bare skin, he knew what she was up to. His dark, steely grey eyes connected with hers, not missing a beat as she regarded him with a false mask of innocence. She was intentionally poking the bear, testing his limits, and he had to resist the urge to give her exactly what she was asking for. He had secured control over her in almost every aspect, but the sexual tension had become a point of contention between them and Kinsley was using it to her advantage. Julian was undoubtedly a bomb waiting to go off, but he also had incredible self-control when he set his mind to something. Fortunately, his recent acts of aggression had been enough of a fix to keep him satiated as he endured the temptation of putting his hands on her in all the wrong ways.
Despite his vow to repress his instincts, his eyes shifted downward to take in the sight of her as she stretched out beside him. He’d seen her body so many times already; from their first interaction to innocuously bathing her, Julian and his near photographic memory had become familiar with each dip and curve of her body. Kinsley was overtly comfortably with nudity and flaunted herself with a certain confidence he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Julian was endlessly egotistical, but his arrogance faltered when it came to being exposed. He related nudity to vulnerability, but Kinsley was cracking that belief- she gained power by being free with her body, not concealing it.
His eyes narrowed with annoyance as she attempted to justify a pardon. She was complaining about being treated like a woman, and yet she used her womanly charm to her advantage at every opportunity. Although he appreciated her honesty, he wasn’t impressed by her claims of independence. If people viewed her as weak and scared and submissive, then they were entitled to that perception. Julian didn’t care what people thought of him, and she shouldn’t either.
Nevertheless, Julian had no intentions of harming her physically, if that was what she was so worried about. He’d already done significant damage to her body, and the healing process was just as important to him as it was to her. Kinsley thought he was nothing but a sadist, but fortunately for them both, he was more than content to retaliate in other ways. From his experience, simple mind games could be far more effective in gaining compliance, and he already knew what his first move would be.
Julian would’ve been content to answer her question calmly if not for the bold path that her fingers were traveling. His sharp eyes followed her hand down to his waist, as though it was an unwanted pest crawling across his skin. She had to know she was crossing a line, but that was the point- she’d latched onto her greatest source of power and was hiding behind her trauma to avoid the repercussions. Something akin to a growl stirred in his throat, and that was the only warning he gave before he abruptly clamped a hand down over hers, capturing it against his stomach. In one swift movement, he rolled over top of her and straddled her waist, trapping her body beneath his. He pinned her hands to either side of her head and leaned in close, so she had no choice but to look him in the eye.
“What do you hope to gain from acting like a whore?” he accused, heat flooding his body and momentarily breaking his composure. His eyes flickered downward, not to her lips, but to her neck. The bruises from his hands had faded, and he felt the distinct urge to replace them with his teeth this time. But he wouldn’t. Julian, however evil, was a man of his word. Slowly, the anger seeped out of him and he released his hold on her hands, though he remained positioned over her waist, enjoying the view of her sprawled out underneath him.
“Consequences,” he repeated the word and held up three fingers, “Comfort, sustenance, pain. It’s an escalating system. The more you push, the more I take. I’ve nursed you back from the edge of death, but I’m done playing nurse, Kinsley. I have no obligation to coddle you- if you want to sleep in my bed, don’t push me. If you want to eat, don’t push me. If you want to heal…” his eyes hardened, letting her know that he would break his vow to heal her if she was unable to conform, “Don’t push me.”
As for the rules, well, she would just have to find out. His list would undoubtedly become endless, but she’d already discovered several throughout their game: lying, taunting, and threatening him would never end well. As he considered whether or not to take his weight off of her, he decided to rephrase his aggressive question and get to the bottom of her infuriating behavior, “Why do you push me, Kinsley?” he murmured, “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I know it’s not in your nature, but is it worth the risk of retraumatizing yourself just to see if you can get a rise out of me? Or is it that you crave punishment…in all its forms?”
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Post by starrea on Nov 21, 2020 18:49:43 GMT
Kinsley was a fast learner; she was already starting to learn the minute changes in Julian's otherwise stoic expression, already starting to predict his shift in moods before she was caught up in the tide of them. She smiled coyly as she locked gazes with him, not missing the way his expression hardened with tension that hadn't been there a moment before. They both knew what she was doing; she wasn't trying to be subtle, and that made the whole experience that much more enriching. As her fingers trailed downwards, she searched him for any signs of lust but came up empty. In a strange turn of events, he just seemed irritated with her attempt to get a rise of him, which, Kinsley decided, was sufficient enough.
Her fingers abruptly stopped their whimsical movements as Kinsley registered the disapproval of her argument to be pardoned. Her coy smile faltered, unprepared for the wave of spite that exploded beneath the surface. He was obviously judging her, critical of her insecurities of what other's thought of her. Julian clearly didn't care about what others thought of him, but Kinsley was her own person - just because she was relinquishing control to Julian didn't mean that she was suddenly going to adopt all of his neurotic personality traits. So far, Julian had made it clear that he didn't like liars, but apparently, her truth wasn't good enough either. Julian was a man, he hadn't faced sexist persecution the way Kinsley had. He couldn't understand how infuriating it was to be constantly told how to act, how to speak, how to be. He couldn't understand her fanatical desire to be seen for how she truly was. Instead of lashing out, Kinsley's smile widened and she resumed her mischievous wandering touch just north of his hemline.
For what it was worth, it took way longer than Kinsley had originally anticipated for Julian to crack - and when he did, Kinsley was not prepared. She let out a sharp cry of surprise as Julian encompassed her, becoming her entire world. He used his weight to pin her down, but Kinsley didn't try to fight back. He covered her body, bearing down on her until she could see nothing but Julian. She couldn't look away; he was everywhere, all around her. Her heart was hammering against her chest, but not with fear. She nervously swallowed, acutely aware of the way his eyes drifted down her neck and she wondered how faded the bruises were. They probably didn't even resemble hand prints anymore. Even though he asked a question, Kinsley didn't move, didn't speak, hardly breathed. She had cracked Julian's composure, and now he was entirely unpredictable - Kinsley estimated that he was just as likely to strangle her as he was to swing off of her and storm out of the room. Only when Julian rocked back did Kinsley let out a breathy laugh, high on the endorphins surging through her veins.
Kinsley nodded along as he spelled out the consequences. While she was healing and tragically dependent on Julian, she was going to have to be uncharacteristically careful. It was going to be an exceptional challenge for her, one that she already predicted struggling with. Kinsley thrived off of impulsive decisions, tending to do whatever she wanted in the moment with no thought about the consequences - but now that she was entirely dependent on Julian, she couldn't just ignore the repercussions of her actions. For a second, the thought of having to think through her actions dulled her excitement but then she realized that if she was going to travel with Julian, she needed to up her game. He was a challenge and she needed to measure up.
His next question sent a trail of shivers down her spine, reigniting the dimming high of the endorphins. It wasn't just that she wanted punishment, it was that she wanted Julian's punishment. He had already marred her body beyond repair, making him the only one who would ever truly appreciate her body for what it was and what it lacked. Her body was his canvas, and she wanted to bear the marks of his brutality that would make her beautiful in ways that only he would value. She looked up at him, her eyes traveling down to appreciate his body before returning to his face. At first, the answer wasn't something she knew how to put into words and she considered hooking her thumbs into the waistline of her sweats and wiggling them off, but she stopped.
"I'm not traumatized," Kinsley snapped immediately, eyes flashing with warning. She stopped herself before the rest of the words escaped out of her; she did have something to prove to him, she had something to prove to everyone. Instead, she softened, swallowing back her truth - it wasn't important right now. "Haven't you ever done something just to see what happens?" She asked, her voice soft as the hardness in her expression melted away, "I'm sinfully curious. Anyway, you make me feel... alive. I like it when your hands are on me," Kinsley spoke slowly, completely ignorant of understanding her own sexual desires. It was an area of life she hadn't bothered to explore and before Julian, no one had ever struggle with desire. A moment passed and the wistfulness in her expression was replaced by her familiar coy smile, accompanied by a shrug, "I guess I'm just a sucker for pain,"
The moment ended when Kinsley tried to bend her knees, completely forgetting about the gaping wound where her foot used to be. She accidentally pressed the wound into the bed, gasping at the explosion of pain that reverberated up her leg. Her breath came out tense and heavy as she tried to manage the lingering pain, trying to ignore the irony in that she had just admitted she wanted pain. She hadn't specified; she wanted Julian's pain - and even though he had technically done this to her, she wasn't into the insane amount of pain this damn amputation had given her. The pain awakened other needs in her and she realized how hungry she was. She thought better of asking for food outright; Julian had already spelled out the consequences for her, and she needed to reconcile before she asked for anything.
"How can I make it up to you?" Kinsley asked, breathless and hot from managing the onslaught of pain.
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Post by Val on Dec 1, 2020 19:19:28 GMT
Julian had done many things just to see what happened. Manipulation, mayhem, and gore were his outlets of choice in his plight to test the limits of the human mind and body. His curiosity was just as potent as hers, but he controlled it through his compulsive and meticulous planning. He didn’t like to be caught off guard, or risk losing everything for the sake of impulsivity. It was only when the composure cracked, when the unpredictable predator was released, that he made mistakes. Kinsley had witnessed his failure already; when he nearly squeezed the life out of her and let his prisoner escape. She knew how to get under his skin, and he had to be more vigilant to avoid making a worse blunder that would lead to his death, or worse, back in prison.
The hard lines of his face softened as she admitted to the connection between them, washing away any of the doubt surrounding her attraction to him. Her words caused the heat of desire to boil within him, rushing straight to his groin. The arousal was instantaneous and an unexpected shock to his system, pressing against the dark pants he was still clad in. He was powerless against it and too far gone to put his guard back up. It was exactly what he wanted to hear, but he was resistant to giving her the upper hand, especially when he knew that she would ultimately refuse his advances. She wanted his hands, his pain, but he could give her so much more.
Before he could decide on his next move, Kinsley hissed in pain, snapping him back to attention. He could feel her leg moving beneath him and his hand shot back to steady her movement, fingers gripping her thigh and squeezing until he could feel her muscles taut beneath the fabric of her pants. Slowly, he pushed her leg back into place, pinning it there until she stopped moving. Even if he was a deliverer of pain, her wound was not the avenue he preferred to take.
Her question was one he’d been eager to hear, and yet it burrowed straight into the insecurity she’d created the moment she denied him. He rocked forward subconsciously, the bulge in his pants an obvious and unspoken answer to her question as he pressed against her hips. His eyes were half lidded, regarding her with a carefully blank expression as the seconds ticked by. Aware that he wouldn’t handle rejection well the second time, he decided to offer her a choice to make it easier on both of them.
“I’ll give you two options that would please me equally.” A lie, but she didn’t need to know that, “Surrender. End the game. Accept a vow of sobriety, and I’ll consider sharing my bed with you tonight.” His voice was calm and controlled, the only signal of his fueled libido being the waves of heat rolling off his body. He never intended on losing their little game, and he was not above pressuring her to submit.
“Or,” he paused and reached out a hand. His index finger started at her sternum and traced a featherlight path down the center of her body, stopping at her navel where he removed his touch altogether, “Accept my kiss,” his eyes flashed to hers, curious to see if his request would surprise her. Julian generally didn’t enjoy kissing. It was unnecessary and cut off too many senses, blinding him to more enjoyable aspects of the body. Nevertheless, a kiss would be a safe first step in getting Kinsley to open up to him- to trust him. And, looking down at her now as she lay beneath him, he felt the enigmatic draw of her soft lips. “I’ll behave,” he promised, making a show of folding his hands behind his back, as though he were bound. It would be incredibly easy to steal the kiss for himself, but it would dismantle any hope of her overcoming her aversions. He wanted her fear, but not her repulsion.
“Reject these options, and receive the consequences,” he added clinically. Now that he was hyper aware of the fact that she wanted his hands on her, he considered rethinking his third level of consequence. Pain may very well become a reward. Fortunately, her transgressions were not severe. A night alone on the couch with an empty stomach would be plenty to put a damper on her defiance.
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Post by starrea on Dec 2, 2020 23:15:56 GMT
Kinsley’s leg was pliant under Julian’s grip, submitting and stilling under his silent command. The pain dimmed but now that it had awoken, it didn’t fade into the recesses of her mind. Pain clouded her senses, tuning everything that wasn’t related to her comfort into the background – including Julian’s erection. As the seconds passed, the sharp sting was replaced by a deep, dull ache that pulsed up her leg, refusing to be ignored.
"I didn't think you had such a big crush on me," Kinsley mocked, trying to sound more nonchalant about his offer than she felt. Julian wasn't even trying to be subtle about what he was doing; he wanted to change her mind about sex, and he thought that a slow kiss and maybe whispering some sweet-nothings in her ear would do the trick. His persistence, however flattering, also irked her. He was attractive, he would have no trouble picking up some floozy from a bar and using her for whatever depraved pleasures he wanted. Afterwards, Kinsley would have to kill her, because now that she was irrevocably tangled with Julian, he didn’t need any other girl.
"It isn't fair," Kinsley finally concluded with a pout, "You'll force me to take a pledge of sobriety anyway because I can’t walk and you won’t bring me anything – even though I’m in a lot of pain.” She added pointedly, giving him a knowing look. Kinsley was okay with – and realistically, powerless against – Julian playing puppet master, but she was smart enough to see how he was pulling her strings. “Either way, you win," She had been too eager to realize the unfair advantage he had when she suggested the game, but now it was obvious that she was going to lose no matter the outcome.
The injustice of Julian’s privilege sparked a desire to be defiant, but she extinguished that urge before it had a chance to catch. She was weak, hungry, and in pain and she needed Julian to take care of her. “Okay, I surrender,” Kinsley lifted her arms up in defeat, “I’ll take a temporary pledge of sobriety, only because I have a feeling I am going to take one whether I like it or not,” Despite the accusation, there wasn’t a tremendous amount of bite to her words. If anything, Kinsley was more determined than ever to get drunk. The more Julian pushed for her sobriety, the stronger her resolve to continue to indulge herself with substances grew. She was smart enough to recognize that she while she healed, she was going to take a break from her substance use – but she wouldn’t be injured and reliant on Julian forever.
The idea of a kiss still lingered in the air between them. Her eyes drifted down towards his erection and she basked in the effect she had over him. She had already known that he wanted her, but the physical manifestation of his desire was all that much more satisfying. It was the one form of control she had over him and despite her aversion to kissing, she was feeling too high to pass on such an opportunity to capitalize on her power.
"Although, I am flattered that you want to kiss me so badly," Kinsley drawled, her eyes drawn to his fingers and where they had pulled away from her skin before they traveled back up to his face, "So how about a trade? You tell me why you went to prison and I'll accept your kiss.” Her stomach growled, reminding her of how hungry she was but she ignored it. This question was more important, more interesting than food. The question was mundane, and Kinsley doubted she would be truly interested in the answer, but it was something he had withheld from her. If he wanted something from her, he needed to give something worth her efforts.
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Post by Val on Dec 7, 2020 18:55:00 GMT
Julian waited, his expression unchanging as she pointed out his obvious advantage. Of course he would win in the end; he would always win, that was the point. His eyes smoldered like burning coals as he anticipated her defiance, and he was surprised when the spark died out, replaced by the sweet look of surrender. Her defeat was the antidote to his sour mood, and a subtle smirk embellished the curve of his lips.
“I don’t play fair,” he mused. But Kinsley knew that already. Even though he didn’t believe that she would stick to her pledge of sobriety if given the opportunity to drink, he didn’t care. Hearing her accept the terms and stick to them despite his dirty play was enough to satisfy him for the time being. However, the longer he wallowed in the momentary victory, the more he felt a sense of disappointment begin to creep in.
Crush. Her endearing and childish term lingered in his thoughts, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The smug look on Julian’s face started to fade. He wanted her to accept not just the kiss, but him. Sure, he’d given her the choice, but her resistance to his advances was putting a damper on his plans to speed their little dance along.
Kinsley’s proposal put an abrupt end to his internal analysis, and Julian immediately raised a brow. Suspicion washed through him, officially quashing his triumphant mood. Kinsley was attempting to turn the tables, grasping at the one flimsy string of power he’d granted her- his traitorous libido. He watched her eyes flash down toward his groin and his hand itched to slap the presumptuous look off her face. Her ability to tiptoe along the line without crossing it was infuriating to him, but he had to admit that he was impressed. She was starting to understand what made him tick, and although it put his level of control in question, it also made the game that much more interesting.
“Deal.” Julian had nothing to lose. His resistance to sharing his tale before had been a ploy to spite her. He didn’t enjoy groveling over his mistakes, especially the one that led to his capture, but he was willing to share his story if that’s what she wanted. No one in their right mind would want to kiss him after they learned of the depths of his depravity. Fortunately, Kinsley was no ordinary woman.
“I slaughtered my family,” he spoke matter-of-factly, as though it were obvious. His eyes were locked onto Kinsley’s, unwavering as he recalled the day he snapped all those years ago, “I had never allowed personal vendettas to dictate my motives, but it was inevitable. They hated me, and I hated them.” He allowed a pregnant pause to build as he decided on the level of detail to share, “My mother, my father, and my younger brother,” he tapped three fingers against his knee as he listed the victims, “Over the course of three days, I tortured and killed them within the very walls I grew up in. First, my brother, then dad, and finally mom. I wanted her to watch-“ He cut the statement short and pressed his lips together, as though he was suppressing a smile. After a moment, his expression returned to a careful display of stoicism, “Anyway, I suppose I lost track of time. When the authorities showed up, we were all seated at the dinner table as I finished my supper. It was the only pleasant family meal I can recall.”
The real and honest truth was that Julian didn’t know why he stayed. He could have run, could have disappeared, and left everything behind. But he had stayed through the bitter end, knowing he would get caught in that house, surrounded by gore and the corpses of his family members. Those three days of bloodshed had felt like a lifetime; perhaps because he was making up for a lifetime of hatred. In the end, he had gone without a fight, only to realize that prison was the purest form of hell he could imagine.
With the twisted tale out in the air between them, Julian didn’t allow Kinsley more than a few moments to digest it. He leaned over her, caging her in as he prepared to take what was now rightfully his. His head dipped and he closed his eyes, pausing when there was only a mere inch of space between their lips. He froze there as the overactive voice in his head rejected his desire to give into temptation. Kissing her now would be playing by Kinsley’s rules, not his. Even worse, he’d be relinquishing himself to the same reckless nature that landed him in prison. As soon as he lost himself to one provocation, he was bound to spiral into the same pattern as before. Everything had to be deliberate.
Their warm breaths intermingled for no more than a few seconds before Julian pulled away. In the next instant, he removed himself from Kinsley altogether, freeing her from his weight. He rolled to the opposite side of the bed and sat on the edge with his back to her. With carefully controlled movements, he pulled his shirt back on, “When you’re ready to kiss me, you’ll ask for it.” It wasn’t a guess or even a demand, but a promise. If he could resist Kinsley, then he would be prepared for anything.
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Post by starrea on Dec 8, 2020 20:38:33 GMT
It was entirely enthralling to watch Julian lose himself in the memories of what he had done. The story was disappointingly lacking details, but Kinsley was creative enough to paint a glorious picture of the chaos Julian had created. She could almost see it; a younger Julian seated at the head of a table, a man seated to his left and a younger boy to his right. Across from Julian sat an older woman. All three of them were hauntingly still, a vacant look in their dead eyes as they stared ahead. Death had already the color from their skin, making the dried blood that coated their skin that much brighter. Their hair was disheveled and matted, hiding head wounds that were still leaking. The only noise that broke the peaceful silence was the sound of Julian eating, undoubtedly basking in what Kinsley imagined to be one of the peaceful moments of his life. Kinsley hung off every word, captivated by what he had done. She hadn’t expected to be impressed by what he had done, much less entirely mesmerized by the details of his crime but an unexpected flame of excitement burned hot in the pit of her stomach. Despite the numerous occupied cells in the non-rehabilitative, non-releasable, dangerous offenders wing of the Mossley Maximum Security Penitentiary, Kinsley had been disillusioned to learn that most crimes, even violent, unforgivable crimes, were unimaginative. As much fun as the personal, chaotic nature of stabbing was, it didn’t hold the same flare of excitement when it was drug related. Even worse, some offenders were so doped up that they didn’t even remember the crimes – having to serve a life sentence for a crime she didn’t even remember was about the worse possible scenario she could imagine. Others used violence as means to an end, something that came with the job associated with illegal organizations. That, too, was less satisfying because there was no thrill, no drive behind the murders. It wasn’t personal, wasn’t creative, wasn’t fun – just business. Kinsley had never been interested in business; she was no work and all play. It wasn’t until the story abruptly ended that the spell over Kinsley broke, leaving her dumbfounded by the way she had become so entranced by a simple story. Julian was a breath of fresh air compared to the stale prison stereotypes Kinsley had been forced to cohabit with for the last eight years. While some of the offenders had captured Kinsley's interest for a moment or two, none them were able to keep it for long. It was disheartening to be housed on a floor of violent, non-releasable inmates who had committed similar atrocities as her and still feel like there was no one who could truly understand or appreciate her. Her fascination with Julian was starting to extend far beyond the fact that he had broken her out of prison and cut her foot off. If there had been any doubts before, Julian’s simple story effectively put them out; he was just like her, and she couldn’t - wouldn’t - let him go. Kinsley could relate to family troubles. She snorted, imagining the sort of dysfunctional family dynamics Julian had grown up with. Did his parents beat him? Did they yell and scream? Did they try to send him to be someone else's problem? And most curiously, how was his relationship with his younger brother? Even though Kinsley didn’t know anything more than the limited information Julian had revealed in his story, it was easy to draw parallels in their upbringings. It was hard to say if her mother hated her, even now after what she had done, but her father undoubtedly did. As soon as he realized the kind of monster he had created, Kinsley drove him to find forgiveness at the bottom of any bottle he could get his hands on and left her mother to hold the fracturing family together. Her mother, for what it was worth, accepted that Kinsley was her problem, and her problem alone. She never tried to push Kinsley off onto unsuspecting relatives or abandon her. In fact, she did just the opposite; she never gave on trying to guide Kinsley back towards the path of righteousness. At one particularly low point of desperation, she even turned to religion to beg for guidance but mostly, the rest of the time she just tried to minimize the damage Kinsley could do. She did it in all the wrong ways; Kinsley was a square peg that she tried mashing into a circle hole and when she didn't fit, her mother just tried to ignore the severity of Kinsley’s deviancy. Sometimes, all the right things in the world simply didn’t matter – Kinsley was just born wrong. Nevertheless, a wistful smile graced Kinsley’s lips as she thought of her mother, aged well beyond the eight years since Kinsley had last seen her, drowning in a pit of guilt and regret. "That," Kinsley scoffed, "I can related to. I couldn’t stand family dinners." Family dinners, despite being one of the most uncomfortable activities of everyone’s day, were non-negotiable. Kinsley theorized that her mother thought that if she could just force the family to spend more time together, everyone would just love and accept one another – but, unsurprisingly, that never happened. Instead, the dinners were usually thick with tension and often, ended in some of sort of fantastic explosion featuring herself. Maybe if her mother hadn’t religiously forced them to interact with each other every night, she might not have killed her sister. Doubtful, but possible. Julian didn’t give Kinsley time to process the way his simple story had ignited such a strong, physical excitement in her. He caged her in, covering her body with his as he bent down to take what she had promised him. She was acutely aware of the way her heartbeat and the way Julian looked as he loomed over her, like a predator waiting to devour its prey. It wasn’t until he hesitated just a breath away from her lips that she realized that she wanted him to kiss her. The realization was surprising, she hadn’t felt the desire to kiss anyone since long before Harvey died, but the desire triumphed over rational thought. It didn’t matter that Julian was triggering long-dead desires, it didn’t matter that she had already promised him that she wouldn’t want him, not in that way – she just wanted him to kiss her. And then that bastard pulled away. Cold air replaced the space previously occupied by Julian and the only thing left on Kinsley’s lips was faint disappointment. She was quick to mask her dismay, hiding it under a layer of irritation. "Whatever," She rolled her eyes for added effect, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched him pull his shirt back on. She made no move to do the same. Now that she had lost the game and Julian had left her wanting more, Kinsley felt the familiar craving for a drink and she leaned her head back against the wall, stifling a groan. The lack of anything to dull the pain only seemed to exasperate it and Kinsley couldn’t ignore the dull ache of hunger anymore. "I’m guessing that a doctor’s note wouldn’t convince you to let me drink a little to take the pain off?" Kinsley asked dryly, but she already knew the answer. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Julian was a hard-ass. "I’m hungry. Is there any food here? What are we going to do? How long can we stay here?" Once the first question came out, the rest tumbled out after it as she looked around, trying to replace the disappointment of not being kissed with more practical thoughts.
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Post by Val on Dec 23, 2020 0:42:21 GMT
As volatile as ever, Julian’s mood shifted like ocean waves, crashing violently onto the shore before retreating slowly back into the murky depths. With his surface level victory of their game came the realization that he was completely unsatisfied, and so he retreated into himself, distancing from the temptress that was Kinsley. Her questions bounced off him as though he were a brick wall, garnering no response. Her childish string of questioning was unappealing to him and made it that much easier to extricate himself from the situation.
Rising from the bed, he swiftly exited the bedroom without so much as casting a glance back at Kinsley. The sickly stench of dried blood invaded his senses as he swept into the hallway, and the poignant memory of his family’s slaughter pressed to the front of his mind. After speaking it into existence, the memory felt impossibly fresh, like it was only yesterday that he had silenced them forever. For the first time in his life, he’d experienced what he could only describe as pure nirvana but achieving that feeling again felt impossible. He felt like an addict searching desperately for the life-changing sensation of that first high, but nothing would ever live up to it.
Julian blinked, realizing he was standing over the dining table upon which he’d amputated Kinsley’s foot. The amount of gore in the room was enough to invoke the image of his lifeless family again, as though his subconscious was desperate to cling to the fading memory. He internally cursed himself for being so pathetic; he was no better than Kinsley, begging for a drink. His hands were twitching with the need to lash out at something, but he instead squeezed them into fists until his knuckles popped. He needed to keep his shit together and focus on the one thing that got him even close to that fleeting sense of bliss: Kinsley.
Finishing the journey to the kitchen, he opened the cabinet in which he had stored their rationed food. Stale bread, a few half empty jars of dried fruit and nuts, and the dwindling bottle of alcohol were all that remained inside. It was a blatant reminder that they needed to move on as soon as possible, or risk starvation and the possibility of the angry townspeople returning to burn down the condemned house with them inside. Grabbing two plates from a shelf, he distributed the food meticulously, right down to the number of nuts on each plate. His stomach was already protesting the idea of downing the trash food yet again, but he quickly squashed the discomfort on the way back to the bedroom.
Julian kicked the door shut behind him and approached the bed, still not addressing Kinsley as anything more than a dog he was delivering dinner to. He placed the meager plate of food in front of her and settled back down on his side of the bed, leaning back with the plate in his lap. He popped an almond into his mouth and chewed slowly as he mulled over their predicament. His eyes flashed toward the makeshift crutches he’d made for Kinsley, which were propped up against the wall. He’d built them to the best of his ability during Kinsley’s time in limbo, taking the time to adjust them to her proportions. Still, he knew they wouldn’t be good enough to travel far, if Kinsley could even make it out the front door.
After several long moments of silence, Julian seemed to return to the present, “We’re leaving tomorrow,” he told her decidedly, “We’ll find a form of transportation, and we’ll go to the next kingdom over. Preferably the city, where we can find money, food, and clothes.” If they tread carefully, they could easily blend into the crowd of a city and make a living in the most dishonest way possible. If they were to put their heads together, he had a feeling that they would come up with some rather creative sources of income, resources, and fun. Anticipating hesitation from Kinsley, he met her eyes, “If we make it to the city within the next few days, I will buy you a drink myself.” Julian was dead serious, not a lick of humor or ridicule in his expression. He needed her motivated, and if that’s what it took to get her up on those crutches and out the door, then he could handle one night of drunk Kinsley, as long as it was on his accord.
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Post by starrea on Dec 29, 2020 4:31:32 GMT
It took a grand total of about three seconds after Julian left for Kinsley to remember how much she hated being alone, bored, and dependent. Without Julian to breathe life into her miserable predicament, the room was painfully still and drab, leaving her all too aware of the fact that she couldn't even get up to alleviate the soul-crushing boredom. She wasn't really surprised that Julian had just walked out of the room. By her second question, she already saw that he had retreated somewhere into the depths of his mind, someplace that she wouldn't be able to reach him. So, unfortunately, the only choice Kinsley had was to wait until Julian decided to grace her with his presence again. Honestly, though, it didn't really bother her all that much. People like them weren't known for being easy to deal with and just from the little bit of himself that he had shown Kinsley, she was sure that he was well worth the aggravation of his neurotic behaviors.
Kinsley tried to avoid looking at the crutches, but the room was dreadfully boring and after a minute or so, she gave in. While laying on the bed, she could almost pretend that a piece of her hadn't been hacked off just thirty or so feet away, but the crutches were a crude reminder to her new reality. Mobility and independence, the very foundation of Kinsley, were ripped out from underneath her, leaving her with fracturing stability. The transition would no go smoothly; when the reality of her immobility and dependence finally caught up to her, it would ruin her. Her image was marred by this monstrous imperfection, something so ghastly that no one would be able to see anything by the space where her foot was supposed to be. Her physical limitations were closing in on her and the wonderful, violent fantasies that filled her daydreams were now unattainable. Her life would be defined a single, tragic mistake and so many what-ifs. Prison was easier to wrap her mind around; it was easier to accept that the only thing stopping her from whatever sinful pleasures she wanted to commit were a set of bars and some guards than to acknowledge that she just simply couldn't physically do it.
For such short notice and the obvious lack of relevant supplies, the crutches didn't like complete crap. The idea of trying to use them wasn't only degrading, but sounded about as pleasant as getting her foot chopped off - and as someone with personal experience, it wasn't pleasant at all. The pain was tolerable when she was laying completely still but she was hungry, weak, and had a feeling that the pain would spike back up as soon as she tried to move. Even for someone with a high pain tolerance, the very idea of such extended travel with a freshly-amputated foot was daunting. But considering her only choices were to stay here and die, opt for a shorter bout of travel and head into town where she would promptly get captured and re-incarcerated, or travel with Julian, she couldn't really do anything other than think about how shitty the next few weeks were going to be.
The sound of Julian re-entering broke her free of the staring contest she was having with the crutches, and her gaze locked onto the food. She didn't miss how meager the portions were but she didn't complain. Julian wasn't dumb and he wouldn't purposely starve her just to drag her along for hundreds of miles. He needed her to be as strong and mobile as she could be just as much as she needed it. The plate had barely touched her lap before she was scooping the food up and dumping it into her mouth, hardly chewing before swallowing. Unlike Julian, who ate agonizingly slow, Kinsley wolfed down her food in a matter of seconds. Now that she had some food in her stomach, she realized how famished she was and couldn't help but be disappointed that the food seemed to disappear so quickly. Her eyes drifted towards Julian's plate and she watched the last of his portions slowly shrink as he ate them.
Julian's words caught Kinsley off guard, but they were a welcome distraction. She pointedly shifted her gaze away from his plate, away from the food she couldn't have, and met his gaze. She nodded along to his plan, but the idea of going to a city made her uncomfortable. Her gaze broke free of Julian, shifting back to the bloody bandaging covering the stump at the end of her leg - she didn't want anyone to see this. "You can find money, clothes, and food, until we find someone who can fix... that," Kinsley gestured vaguely to her stump, "I don't want anyone to see me like this. I'll have to take a rain check on the drink, though, unless you want to get drunk just you and me."
Kinsley didn't want to give Julian a chance to prey upon her insecurities, so she needed to move - to show both of them that she wasn't useless. Kinsley pushed the plate off of her lap, decidedly swinging her legs off of the bed and sitting up. The motion alone sent a crash of pain through her so intense that it was nauseating, but once Kinsley closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, it ebbed back until it was something more manageable. It took another second to rally the courage to reach out for the crutches and before she thought better of it, she pushed herself up. The instinct to lean on her foot was strong and now that she was standing, it was even more obvious that a piece of her was missing. She shifted the crutches under her armpits, leaning onto them, scowling at how uncomfortable they were. There was no doubt about it - this was going to suck.
Tentatively, Kinsley took a step forward. The motion was unnatural and she had to concentrate, had to completely figure out a new way to walk. For something that required just about as much thought as breathing, it was suddenly incredibly complex and tiring. Everything felt wrong; the weight at the end of her leg, the way she distributed her weight completely onto one leg, the space where her foot should have been. It was all wrong. She had only managed to take two steps away from the bed and she was already tired and frustrated. Frustration swirled inside of her but there was absolutely nothing she could about it, nothing but squeeze the crutches until her knuckles were white as she struggled to accept her new self.
"This fucking sucks," Kinsley finally snapped, maneuvering so she could turn around and hobble her way back to the bed. Being able to walk, with crutches, hadn't been as satisfying as she had hoped. If anything, it had made her more disillusioned to her condition.
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