06-01-2014, 07:44 PM
His eyes were glued upon the scene.
Connor was suppose to be finding other children. Not.. Not this.
By all appearances, Jensen's reaction was to be frozen in place. His helmet hid the pasty white shock that painted his face. His bike jacket obscured the heaving of his chest. His eyes shifted to the huddling child then returned to the body sprawled on the floor. The tangle of his pants, the crying child, and Connor in between them both. Jensen dare not fathom what had happened.
"Connor,"
he breathed and the sound of his own voice sparked him into movement.
He fled to the man's side where he tore his helmet from his head and dropped it alongside. His hair was a mass of wet ringlets, cascading like dark tears from his brow. Sharp aches addled his kneecaps with pain from dropping too swiftly upon the floor, but the break of his heart hurt all the worse.
He lay shaking hands upon the man, one at his brow, the other at his shoulder, and bowed his head, eyes pressed tight.
A few moments later, a broken-hearted man peered up at Connor with child-like disbelief. "What have you done?"
He pulled his hands away and went to unsteady feet. He met Connor eye-to-eye, man-to-man. "You killed him?"
The Gift swarmed through his mind, and with it, stench of blood and urine, sweat and other bodily fluids flooded his stomach with upheaval.
The paralysis continued despite the robotic movement to the little girl. She was a tangle of limbs and fiery red hair, and withdrew from Jensen, frightened, but too traumatized to run.
He brushed her hair from her forehead and soothed her with a voice gentle as a lullaby. His focus caught in the avalanche of emotions, however, and the threat of majesty nearly swept him away. Every coil of power was torturous to design, and he was soon aware his eyes burned dry. His heart began to pound in his ears, joined with an orchestra of drumming he could not discern. Connor's voice joined the turbulence, but Jensen did not know what he said. He was breathing hard in all effort to withstand the clamor beating at his walls. Every pore leaked sweat, and time stretched painfully slow. When the pivotal moment came he sensed the little girl's wounds, her aches became his, and overwhelming sensation of needles jabbed at his groin. How could she stand it? Even then, the thought was succumbed by the storm of power roaring through his body.
The healing lay upon her flesh and Jensen withdrew, exhausted and panting from where he sat on the floor. Stars danced his vision like flickering lightning bugs. His head pounded with the force of their distant light until even that was finally dissolved into nothingness.
The little girl was suddenly in his arms and burrowing her face in his neck. Jensen wrapped her into a hug but only to weakly set her aside. "Can you hand me my helmet?"
She did, and he pulled it back over his head. His gaze caught a glimpse of the body that felled his head under the weight. If only he could have helped that man.
Connor helped him stand, which Jensen needed. Once upon his feet, the fatigue seemed to drain somewhat. He made himself look at the body, but he spoke softly to Connor. Or perhaps, it was to himself he truly spoke. "We all deserve his death. Me more than most. I would have helped.."
Emotion noosed his throat, but it was the little girl that really cut him off.
A terrible scowl came over her face: a demonic twist of hatred and quiet rage. With it, she kicked the man in the stomach. The scene, a tiny child, wailing on the corpse of her terrorizer, it was horrible. Please stop. Please, stop. But the words failed him. This child took her revenge and reveled in it when she should be too young to have much sense in right and wrong, let alone succumb to the siren call of vengeance.
"We need to get out of here as quickly as possible."
He said when she stopped, desperation thinning his words with need.
An injurious plea pierced their ears, and Jensen ran to the hall in time to witness Shri darting the other way. Pao chased after her, but the older girl was too late. Shri disappeared, and Pao came running to them.
"She's gone to tell! I tried to stop her!"
The cold grip of fear took hold.
"Oh no."
Connor was suppose to be finding other children. Not.. Not this.
By all appearances, Jensen's reaction was to be frozen in place. His helmet hid the pasty white shock that painted his face. His bike jacket obscured the heaving of his chest. His eyes shifted to the huddling child then returned to the body sprawled on the floor. The tangle of his pants, the crying child, and Connor in between them both. Jensen dare not fathom what had happened.
"Connor,"
he breathed and the sound of his own voice sparked him into movement.
He fled to the man's side where he tore his helmet from his head and dropped it alongside. His hair was a mass of wet ringlets, cascading like dark tears from his brow. Sharp aches addled his kneecaps with pain from dropping too swiftly upon the floor, but the break of his heart hurt all the worse.
He lay shaking hands upon the man, one at his brow, the other at his shoulder, and bowed his head, eyes pressed tight.
A few moments later, a broken-hearted man peered up at Connor with child-like disbelief. "What have you done?"
He pulled his hands away and went to unsteady feet. He met Connor eye-to-eye, man-to-man. "You killed him?"
The Gift swarmed through his mind, and with it, stench of blood and urine, sweat and other bodily fluids flooded his stomach with upheaval.
The paralysis continued despite the robotic movement to the little girl. She was a tangle of limbs and fiery red hair, and withdrew from Jensen, frightened, but too traumatized to run.
He brushed her hair from her forehead and soothed her with a voice gentle as a lullaby. His focus caught in the avalanche of emotions, however, and the threat of majesty nearly swept him away. Every coil of power was torturous to design, and he was soon aware his eyes burned dry. His heart began to pound in his ears, joined with an orchestra of drumming he could not discern. Connor's voice joined the turbulence, but Jensen did not know what he said. He was breathing hard in all effort to withstand the clamor beating at his walls. Every pore leaked sweat, and time stretched painfully slow. When the pivotal moment came he sensed the little girl's wounds, her aches became his, and overwhelming sensation of needles jabbed at his groin. How could she stand it? Even then, the thought was succumbed by the storm of power roaring through his body.
The healing lay upon her flesh and Jensen withdrew, exhausted and panting from where he sat on the floor. Stars danced his vision like flickering lightning bugs. His head pounded with the force of their distant light until even that was finally dissolved into nothingness.
The little girl was suddenly in his arms and burrowing her face in his neck. Jensen wrapped her into a hug but only to weakly set her aside. "Can you hand me my helmet?"
She did, and he pulled it back over his head. His gaze caught a glimpse of the body that felled his head under the weight. If only he could have helped that man.
Connor helped him stand, which Jensen needed. Once upon his feet, the fatigue seemed to drain somewhat. He made himself look at the body, but he spoke softly to Connor. Or perhaps, it was to himself he truly spoke. "We all deserve his death. Me more than most. I would have helped.."
Emotion noosed his throat, but it was the little girl that really cut him off.
A terrible scowl came over her face: a demonic twist of hatred and quiet rage. With it, she kicked the man in the stomach. The scene, a tiny child, wailing on the corpse of her terrorizer, it was horrible. Please stop. Please, stop. But the words failed him. This child took her revenge and reveled in it when she should be too young to have much sense in right and wrong, let alone succumb to the siren call of vengeance.
"We need to get out of here as quickly as possible."
He said when she stopped, desperation thinning his words with need.
An injurious plea pierced their ears, and Jensen ran to the hall in time to witness Shri darting the other way. Pao chased after her, but the older girl was too late. Shri disappeared, and Pao came running to them.
"She's gone to tell! I tried to stop her!"
The cold grip of fear took hold.
"Oh no."