A Life Worth Living (Rowan)

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime looked up at the five story apartment building. Of course, nothing in Iziz appeared to be run down from the outside, but Grime could smell the stagnation in the air. This was her address. That informant had given Hawkins the names he had wanted and a way to start finding them.

Maximillion "The Tongue" Cryg'll was one of the five men running the black market of Iziz. He was their front man, the main contact, and the mouth of the slums. The prostitutes knew his proportions but didn't know where he slept. It had taken the local cable repair guy to even give Grime any kind of direction.

Rowan Averre. The Tongue's tech junky. She lived in this apartment complex, behind a 'wall of technology', the man had said. She would know where to find the Tongue.

His hand passed over the security lock and the electronics sizzled and the print and lettering that was stamped on melted and bubbled. A loud thunk was heard, signifying the major lock being disabled. He pressed his hand against the door where the next lock was, slightly visible through the crack in the door. A small burst of flame slipped through the crack and he kicked the door in at the same time.

He took his time walking up the stairs. There was no directory to where she might be in the building. But the cable guy had said all he had to do was follow the industrial sized cables leading from the basement, up the stairs, down the hallway, and to her exact address.

After having to deal with that feline and actually exert himself, Grime was not in the mood to waste any time on this one. One hesitant breath and he would have her suspended in her shower by these powercords and her face would be melting off while she watched in the shower. He knocked on the door twice, lightly the first time and sharply on the second. His pale face right before the peep hole in the door.

[Rowan Averre]

Waking up, Rowan could still taste the tears, bile, and blood as vividly as she tasted them the night before. There had been three years of this, thirty-six months, thirty-six mornings she had still woken up after nights Maximillion Cryg'll had spurned his prostitutes and turned towards her in the thrill of taking the unwilling. Gingerly, she stood up, walked into her cramped bathroom, and tried her best to scrape the taste out of her mouth.
<o></o>
Five minutes later, when she could no longer tell if the taste was a memory or still there, she gave up and looked up into the mirror. The bruises were bad, not as bad as some other times though. One black eye, instead of two, stared back at her, contrasting sharply with the sickly paleness of her skin. Lucky for her, there were no cuts on her face, though the bruises of fingerprints on her neck left her with little choice but to wear one of the two high collared shirts Kryzt had bought her after the first time this had happened.
<o></o>
She had loved Kryzt once upon a time; he’d been her brother’s best friend back before Medlar had gotten in over his head. Her brother had been her favorite person in the world; the eight years age difference had made him seem more like a mix between a brother and a parent, especially after her father left and mother’s subsequent suicide when she was twelve. Kryzt had been sixteen then, just starting work with the cable repair company and when her brother was too busy slicing for Cryg'll, it had been Kryzt that had held her as she sobbed.
<o></o>
Shaking off the memories, she stepped out into the rest of her apartment and went to check the kitchen for food. Finding none, she wondered whether it would be safe to leave her apartment to buy some or if she should just wait for tonight when Kryzt came over since he generally brought food for her with him. After a minute, she decided against it; she’d worked too hard to keep her address a secret from Cryg'll, and from everyone except Kryzt. He could be trusted though, guilt caused by getting her into this situation with Cryg'll ensured what affection could not.
<o></o>
Gulping down a glass of water to hold off her hunger, she walked around her apartment inspecting it for dust. Her equipment was the most valuable thing in her life and she’d rather die than see it damaged just because she had been careless. One time Kryzt had brought her a computer and datapad that he had found thrown away in someone’s trash, thinking she could use the parts. About half the parts were still in working order, state of the art equipment too, but the gratefulness Rowan felt towards Kryzt for it didn’t prevent her from screaming at him for bringing his food too close to her gear.
<o></o>
He knew her rules; rules were there for a reason and if not followed, had disastrous consequences. Both had followed Cryg'll’s rules unhesitatingly ever since Kryzt screwed up three years ago. He paid the price then, not as badly as she had though. Kryzt was twenty-three and she was nineteen then; both of them were young and idealistic. They’d been in a relationship for three years, starting a few months before Medlar had died. They had seen no reason to keep it a secret, especially since they had been living together with her brother when it started. Three years into their relationship, Kryzt had wanted out of the city, off the planet to start a new life for themselves. However, Cryg'll wasn’t willing to release his hold on his slicer, since she was the only one he had left after killing his best, Medlar.
<o></o>
Kryzt had tried kidnapping her, since she wouldn’t come willingly out of fear of Cryg'll, but in the end her boss found them. That night, with Kryzt watching in horror, was the first time she had been taken unwillingly by a man. The second had followed a few weeks after. Cryg'll had found her curled up in Kryzt’s and her apartment refusing to work and figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it another shot. After seeing how well it kept her and Kryzt in line, it became a monthly occurrence; he gave her the money she earned for the month, and then he took a little something in return.
<o></o>
That was when she had stopped loving Kryzt. She was so tiny, less than five feet tall and not even ninety pounds; she could barely use any weapons but the lightest blasters, much less protect herself from Cryg'll. So Kryzt had promised he would. But in the end he couldn’t; he wasn’t willing to deal with the possibility of a botched murder so he sat by and did nothing but try to remind her each night after she got paid that not all intimacy had to be horrible. Sometimes it worked, other times it did nothing but add to how dead she felt on the inside.
<o></o>
Looking over her array of gadgets, she couldn’t help but feel alive and excited at the prospect of playing with her toys, a rare occurrence these days. Mixed in was a sense of pride at how successful she had been at accumulating them and how much her skills had increased beyond what her brother had shown her. Heat, food, clothing, nothing was really necessary when there were spikes to buy, datapads to repair, information to slice. Winter was the worse, she generally showered at Kryzt’s place to avoid getting sick, but every extra credit saved was one more to go towards better and more gear. She knew that gear was imperative to her survival and hoped it would eventually enable her to slice her way through her brother’s equipment, something she had been trying since his death six years ago, to learn what exactly it was that got him killed.
<o></o>
Sitting down, she took apart some of her older things and began working with her newest gadget, traded for with one of Cryg'll’s richer clients in exchange for her willingness to do things few women would ever do for a man. She’d only started doing this type of trading within the past year; this was the third time. There were some things she would never have the money to buy and that Kryzt could never find for her, so this was the only way she could think of obtaining them. In a way it was worse than what Cryg'll did because she did it willingly, but on the other hand it was better for the same reason.
<o></o>
Two knocks startled her out of her thoughts, looking at her clock she saw it was about an hour before Kryzt normally showed up, must have gotten off early. Not too early though, it was already dark outside. Standing up, she pushed back her stringy brown hair and straightened the shirt he had bought for her. Feigning nonchalance, she walked to the door and while opening it, turned around and started walking back to her bedroom and computer gadgets.
<o></o>
“Nice to see you early instead of late for once, come on I got some new stuff I want to show you. You wouldn’t happen to have any food, like you…”
<o></o>
Rowan turned around after reaching her bedroom door to look back at who she had assumed was Kryzt and stopped talking mid-sentence. Instead of Kryzt, there was a man a full two heads taller than her standing at the door. For one split second the fear was dominated by an intense feeling of betrayal and sadness. All her best efforts, only leaving her apartment at night, never opening the windows, turning the sun from something she saw everyday into a rare treat, was all for naught. Neither guilt nor affection had been enough to hold his tongue.
<o></o>
Her life as she knew it was over. Kryzt was gone, and though she tried to deny it, part of her still remembered what it was to love him and was so desperately hurt he cared so little as to betray her like this. Almost as bad was that all her technology and hard work was ripe for the picking. Part of her wanted to turn and run, but without her computer equipment, how could she ever hope to find the information she so desperately wanted, the quest that gave her life so much meaning. So instead, she slumped to the floor sobbing; already missing Kryzt despite all the pain he had caused and hadn’t been able to save her from.

[Hawkins Grime]

Averre?

Grime didn't say anything, merely assumed the pitiful pile of flesh slumped against the wall and on the floor was the Tongue's slicer. He didn't want to be here any longer the absolutely necessary. But there was more to be gained from this occurance than just the Tongue's address.

Taking over syndicates and such entities as the black market was like conquering any other kind of territory. A working strategy was to dethrone the authority figures and allow all the functions to continue about their business. Grime had that intention as it meant less work for him and this... thing would continue her previous job. Or she would die. But he needed to get this point across immediately so that she might stop blubbering that mindless noise.

"Rowan Averre..."

He spoke between clenched teeth as the furnace of hatred and spite had already been churning upon entering the building. His lips barely moved though and no sign of the suffering that constantly devoured his soul was displayed on his almost white face.

"...I'm here for the Tongue..."

And to ensure that the territories conquered were convincingly loyal, the conquerer had to play sides with the masses and make sure they comprehended that they had a renewed purpose in continuing to exist. Whether it was to not die like their previous authority figure had or it was the mere idea that they were allowed to still live, Grime cared not.

"... And you'll tell me how to meet him, now. Death has come knocking for him, girl..."

Grime knew it though. He didn't have to be able to read her mind to know that despair had collapsed upon her soul and she had all but surrended to whatever may come. She had been near breaking for a long time by the looks of it. Good, it was always easier to start from six feet under.

"...Maybe you'll get to watch. But if you don't start now..."

Grime's black hand extended from beneath his cape and ran up the right wall beside him. The paint on the wall peeled at his touch and in a breath's span, smoke rose from the spot. Hawkins would demonstrate his capabilities before he made an applied example upon her. He hadn't bothered with the cable guy, leaving a scorched hand print on the man's chest. Fear and pain were motivators that always exceeded the limits of human expectations when applied properly.

[Rowan Averre]

Rowan’s head snapped up at the sound of her name; had Kryzt divulged that to him also? Her stomach knotted in fear, what else did this strange man know about her? And then it came to her, maybe Kryzt had told him all the things Cryg'll had done to her. Maybe he was here to do the same. Lost in her fears, Rowan scarcely heard him as he went on.
<o></o>
"...I'm here for the Tongue..."

She bowed her head, hiding her face behind her hair, as relief washed over her; he wanted Cryg'll, not her. Except, she thought again, letting logic catch up with her emotions, he wanted Cryg'll; how could this ever end well? No one came looking for Cryg’ll just to chat; they always wanted something from him. And if this man was here, he wanted something from her first. Cryg’ll was so careful, no one but a handful of people knew how to contact him; this man wanted Cryg’ll and if he was here, he obviously couldn’t find him. Hands shaking, twisting in her lap, she recalled Kryzt knew she had the knowledge this man must be seeking.
<o></o>
If she complied with what this man wanted, Cryg’ll would destroy her once he found out; if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she would survive this night. Subconsciously, she started biting her fingernails, and upon realizing they’d been chewed as far down as possible the night before, she started on the skin around them. Looking up at the man through her curtain of hair, she fought the urge to curl herself into a ball and hide from the world forever.
<o></o>
"... And you'll tell me how to meet him, now.”<o></o>
<o></o>
She tried to be brave at that, she really did. She wasn’t a brave person though, Kryzt had been braver than her, and even he hadn’t been brave enough. With the same sorrow and fear-filled determination with which she had long ago wished her family was still alive, she now wished Kryzt was here to fix everything for her, to tell her what she needed to do, to lead her like she had always been led.
<o></o>
She never had been good at making decisions or even worse, looking after herself. She would forget to eat, sleep, while she got totally immersed in her work. Stress killed her, too many problems at once led to her getting completely overwhelmed and to her shutting down. Kryzt had always been there though, reminding her to eat, to sleep, to stop grinding her teeth, forcing her not to allow herself to fall too far. It had only taken two men to destroy that, leaving her truly alone for the first time in her life.

"Death has come knocking for him, girl..."

Oh gods, he wanted Cryg’ll dead. This was far worse than she had expected. Her breath was coming harder now, faster, shallower. Terror seized her, leaving her quaking in fear. And the more scared she got, the shallower her breath became. A sudden thought flashed in her head, would she get so scared this time that she would stop breathing? She reached her right up hand up towards her face and wiped away the sweat that had begun to bead at her forehead, despite the cold of her apartment. She remembered this happening before, but Kryzt had always been there, soothing her, holding and hugging her reminding her that everything would be all right if she focused on breathing rather than the fear.
<o></o>
But Kryzt wasn’t here now, he couldn’t tell her to calm down, to rub her back until it stopped. She was completely and utterly alone to deal with this. And there, her throat, constricted hard, fast until no noise came out, no more sobs, just burning hot tears running down a pale terrified face. She forced both her hands, which felt like so much dead weight, to her throat, clawing, grasping at it, trying frantically to open it back up. Oh gods where was Kryzt, she just wanted him to help, everything would be forgiven, everything would be ok if would just come back and remind her what it meant to breathe again.

"...Maybe you'll get to watch. But if you don't start now..."

And then as she watched in horror, eyes burning from the tears, lungs from the lack of oxygen, the paint and the smoke and oh gods she just wanted a nice normal life with children and Kryzt in an apartment on a planet a million miles from here. A place where she could sleep without fear, where every kiss meant something, a promise of love and affection and hope, and most importantly forever. Staring blankly at the wall she imagined she could see her dreams in that smoke, slowly dissipating until there was nothing left, not even a memory.

[Hawkins Grime]

The little whelp was having a panic attack.

=======

"Ey, CENSORED! She ain't breathin'. The lass just up and stopped afta' I spilled the beans on you'z killen' off 'er 'rents and all."

"So snap her out of it?"

=======

He slammed the door shut behind him, sighing as he barely bent down in midstride and grabbed the small thing by her hair with the hand that wasn't superheated. He had been tempted to use the other one for a moment, very tempted. He drug her into the room by her hair where all the power cords were leading to.

Hawkins barely took a moment to glance about, at least making sure this was the room he intended. Too many flourescent screens and dren he didn't care about satisfied him enough that it was the tech room and then he left her catatonic little self staring at the ceiling as he walked into the kitchen.

It was nothing special, but then again, nothing on this side of Iziz was. The frustration of this situation was already burning at him, and he still had all that leftover aggravation worked up from before. Grime opened one cupboard, broke the sliding door closing it, and did the same thing to three others until he found any dishes. How did this thing survive?

He held a glass in his hand that he filled with water. Nevermind that it came out brown at first, she wouldn't be drinking it. Not that he cared if she would be anyways. She could drink battery acid for all she was worth at the moment. Once full, he trudged out of the kitchen and back to where had left her.

"Move, worm. Or I'll melt your face off. And you won't die today either way."

Grime poured the murky water on her face and then threw the cup behind him into the hall way.

[Rowan Averre]

Dazed, Rowan flinched at the sound of the slamming of her door. Then, glancing up, she saw the man headed straight for her. Panicking, she tried to curl herself into a ball; her throat still tight, then relaxed for a span of seconds, just long enough for her to draw a short ragged breath. And so it continued as he grabbed and dragged her, seconds of being unable to breathe, interposed by a beat just long enough for a breath.
<o></o>
She cringed at the feeling of his hand on her skull, half-expecting it to burn her head like it had the wall. Anger welled up in her at the way he was treating her hair, Kryzt had loved playing with her hair, on days she had had a chance to wash it at least. It was long enough that he would sit and braid it for her, in the winter he would do it before he left for work after she had showered at his place, and when it was warm enough out, he would do it when she stopped by after reporting information to Cryg’ll. A couple of times he’d managed to convince her to let him put it in pigtails, making her look even younger than she already did. The fact that this man would dare damage her hair when Kryzt would never touch it again made her wish that she had the guts to pull the dagger out of the inside of her boot and attack him.
<o></o>
But, she realized upon being deposited into her chair, this man must be what she had heard on off Cryg’ll’s clients refer to as force-sensitive so fear prevented her taking any action. It had been years ago she had heard that phrase, back when Medlar was still alive. He’d been one of the few trusted clients to meet Cryg’ll’s slicer, even got the opportunity to watch him as he worked. She’d been eleven at the time, and the next day the client had brought back one of his friends, one who was proficient in the Force and quickly commented that Medlar’s skills came from heightened senses being force-sensitive provided.
<o></o>
Cryg’ll had been severely disappointed to learn she wasn’t also force sensitive, but it didn’t stop him from expecting the same skill level from her as from Medlar. After Medlar had died, all she had heard was how incompetent she was, but she knew better. Medlar had taught her from the time she was ten until his death, everything he could. What she didn’t learn from him, she’d worked hard to learn on her own, practically dedicating her entire life to her art. She might not be quite to his skill level yet, but she had that natural instinct honed from being around computers and a slicer all her life. Dating a cable repair guy hadn’t hurt her electronics knowledge either.
<o></o>
"Move, worm. Or I'll melt your face off. And you won't die today either way."
<o></o>
Startled by the sound of his voice, she looked up and got splashed in the face by icy cold water. She wasn’t very fond of the cold, but was overjoyed by the idea of not dying. The prospect of having her face melted off did put a damper on that enthusiasm though. Shivering, she forced herself to focus on everything but the fear. She wasn’t going to die today, thank the gods, and she sure wasn’t about to give him a reason to melt her face off by not moving. So, she surrendered herself to the feelings of pain, humiliation, and anger.
<o></o>
Minutes passed, yet it seemed an eternity to her. Finally she managed to regain some semblance of control; breathing returned to her, interrupted by soft hiccupping noises.
<o></o>
Though her legs still felt like lead and her body cried out to her to sit still, she forced herself to stand up. Turning around, she raised her head to look at this man who threatened to melt her face off, though she failed at forcing her eyes to meet his.
<o></o>
“Kryzt,” she whispered heartbrokenly, hiccupping slightly. “What did you do to my Kryzt?”

[Hawkins Grime]

"What the...?"

Kryzt? Who the dren was that? The cable guy? Her cable guy? Grime's mouth, the flesh under the perfect mask, lifted in a sneer of sudden disgust. He didn't give a bloody whit about Kryzt the cable guy who Grime suspected would've been at home or at some clinic getting the new scar he'd been given some bacta treatment. Grime just wanted the the Tongue. And he wanted it now.

"Your fat little cable guy should be at home nursing a similar burn to the one you're about to have if you don't fracking get to work. Whatever it takes to get to the Tongue, I want it now."

The room was getting hotter, and in a humid, frustrating kind of way. Grime's anger was directly responsible for this and the more he fumed with impatience, the higher the temperature became. There were industrial sized fans in the room, keeping the conglomeration of technical equipment at efficient heat levels but it would soon mean nothing if Grime's unnatural heat continued to flood the room.

[Rowan Averre]

Her fat cable guy? Anger sprung up in her at this stranger talking about Kryzt in such a way, maybe he wasn’t stick skinny like she was, but he sure didn’t eat enough to weigh more than a man his size should.
<o></o>
And, with a soft gasp, the rest of it caught up with her. Kryzt was burnt? Like what had been done to the paint on the wall? Oh gods, she had to go help him. Suddenly she became aware of the increase in temperature. She glanced back and forth between her computers and the man standing in front of her, her movements becoming more and more frantic as the seconds ticked by and the room got hotter and hotter.
<o></o>
If she ran and helped Kryzt now, the man said she would be burnt, and she figured it would probably be worse than Kryzt was. Which would leave her where she always was, needing help instead of helping. She tried to rationalize the only decision she really had to herself by imagining what kind of burn would be able to be nursed at home. If the man thought he was at home, Kryzt should be alright, as long as he made sure to prevent it from getting infected. And Kryzt could do that of course, he could take care of her, he should be able to take care of himself. Feeling some panic mingle in her head with the doubt that never seemed to disappear, she focused on making a decision so not to get lost in the fear again.
<o></o>
So, it was decided, she would do whatever this man wanted, and then go find Kryzt. If Kryzt had gotten burnt, she couldn’t blame him for giving up her address; this man was scary, much scarier than Cryg’ll. Cryg’ll was easy to predict, this man seemed like he would never be. Kryzt wouldn’t have given her address to Cryg’ll, so it wasn’t really betrayal so much, just making sure he would still be alive for her later. The sudden spike in temperature told her she had lost herself in her thoughts for too long, she needed to talk now or risk destruction.
<o></o>
“Ok, ok you win! Cryg’ll, you want Cryg’ll? He won’t be at home, he’s almost never there. Its late, and the night after he, well it’s the night after I get paid.” The words flooded out in a voice broken from the tears and lack of oxygen. She looked down, shoved her hair out of her face with disgust at herself and continued, “He’s normally at the hotel he owns, ‘Lucky Nights of Iziz’ coming down from his…thrill.” The last was whispered with a touch of disgust as she fidgeted with her hands.
<o></o>
“If you follow me, he has a secretary there, I’ll tell her I’ve found evidence Frontev has betrayed the rest of the five, and if he isn’t there at the time, she’ll make sure he’ll be there within the hour to meet me in the hotel room.” She had wanted to end by looking up to glare at him, but again her courage had failed her. Instead she shuffled her left foot on the floor and twisted her sleeves with her hands. She soothed her guilty heart with the idea that it would only take two, three hours max. Then she could go find Kryzt and put this whole ordeal behind them. Everything would be ok if this night would just end.

[Hawkins Grime]

Finally, some kind of progress. How the little twit had reached such a sudden point of clairovoyance, amidst all that blabbering and hyperventilating, was beyond Grime. He cared less to why or how though and rather that the whole thing just get a move on.

"Then lead the way. And this had better work. Oh, and since you seem so quick to be clever, plan a trap and I'll make sure you die first, twit. I can read your mind and I know everything you think you're thinking about."

He stepped back from the doorway and made his way back to the exit. Grime leaned against the wall where his burnt handprint had left a stagnant smell in the air.

So many things to do. This hotel business. Kill the Tongue, after retreiving the information of course, maybe before if he had to. Either way Grime wanted someone dead. This... technological vermin was necessary, the Tongue knew it, Grime knew it. Regardless of his threats, she was a tool and needed to maintain the business. The Tongue went about it in a slimier fashion than Grime, a manner that Hawkins in his decrepit state was not even able to recognize as near his level of operation. Grime was no low level muck sucker of the underworld. He had been a prince once. He was still a prince, albeit without a throne, but he would kill everyone along the way to get it back and then some. Oh, he'd burn his throne to the ground to see the rest of them melt in his wake.

Where the room temperature had suddenly dropped to normal where Rowan was, the metal armor of his exoskeleton was leaving a burnt outline in the wall, around the existing hand print.

[Rowan Averre]

As the pale man walked back towards her front door, Rowan quickly grabbed a datapad and loaded onto it the first few things she could find dealing with Frontev. If this strange man abandoned, she would have to have something to buy her some time, she knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it looked like her only option. Glancing towards the man at her door, she grabbed her jacket, one she’d stolen from Kryzt’s closet when he wasn’t looking. It was in worse shape than hers had been when she took it, but it was Kryzt’s and that was all that mattered to her. She walked out of her room with her head down, hands fidgeting at her side, still wary of looking this man in the eyes. Upon exiting her apartment, she took extra care to make sure the locks on the door were still working in case Cryg’ll learned of where she lived sometime tonight. Her most precious data had been hidden in the ceiling of her kitchen, but she knew Cryg’ll would eventually look there and it would buy her only a small amount of time, if any.
<o></o>
Once they got out of her apartment building, they started walking towards the hotel. Rowan had done this thousands of times before, which should have comforted her, but instead only allowed her the chance to worry about what was about to happen and contemplate what would happen between her and Kryzt after it. Every building she walked by reminded her of him in some way. In two minutes she had noticed a restaurant they had eaten at once, a place they would hang out and talk about computers, and a shop where they would buy clothing, or more specifically where he would buy clothing and she would watch.
<o></o>
She pulled his jacket closer to her, it was far too large for her, while Kryzt wasn’t as tall as the man following her, he was still a good head taller than her. Ironically, she’d found Kryzt’s size reassuring, thinking it could protect her from other men. She still felt a slight sense of safety in his presence, despite everything. Some nights she felt so weak and appalled with herself; the predisposition to feel safe solely from his physical presence even when she knew his mind couldn’t stand up to the pressure necessary to protect her disgusted her. While her heart may have thought different, in her mind, she knew that she was only truly safe behind locks and alarms and traps in places no one knew about. Few places to begin with, zero now that this man had come into her life.
<o></o>
She’d never felt this tense walking to the hotel before, even on days when she was going to get paid. Kryzt almost always had walked her there and went to work after leaving her there. They had always taken their time getting there, walking slowing, enjoying the other’s company. Sometimes they would hold hands, but Rowan was generally too shy in public as is, and felt that holding hands would draw unnecessary attention to them. Tonight however, she was moving at almost a jog, pushed on by the man’s larger stride and faster pace.
<o></o>
She missed her life being less complicated. Before her brother had died, she worried mostly about her blossoming relationship with Kryzt. After he died, she learned there were much worse things in life than accidentally saying the wrong thing to Kryzt. In some ways his death helped her, without her drive to find out why Cryg’ll had killed him, she never would have pushed herself to become as good with electronics as she was. All the benefits from it though, couldn’t replace the feelings of loss and sorrow that welled up in her whenever she thought of her brother.
<o></o>
By the time they had got close to the hotel twenty five minutes had passed, most of them spent fighting away tears at the memory of her brother. A block away she motioned for the absurdly tall man to follow her behind a building where she whispered to him in a shaky voice, “See that building? That’s the hotel.” She paused for a moment, tapping her fingers against the wall of the building. “If you follow me in, he’ll know. Room 105, third window, ground floor, left side of the building. Try not to attract too much attention,” Rowan finished as her voice grew steadily fainter.
<o></o>
Hoping he would understand the gravity of this situation, Rowan turned and ran towards the hotel, trying to make it look like she had ran most of the way here with the most urgent sort of news. Once she got inside, she saw that despite the hour, plenty of people were still milling around the lobby, like she had expected. She could only imagine the ruckus that would have occurred if the man had followed her inside. Out of breath, she headed for the front desk to talk to the older woman sitting there.
<o></o>
Hesitating for a minute to catch her breath, she started talking, face flushed and breathing hard, “Umm, hey is my boss here?”
<o></o>
The other woman looked up at Rowan disgust clear in her eyes. Sneering she replied, “Not right now dear, he’s busy in another section of the city at the moment.”
<o></o>
“Oh, well its really important,” Rowan continued becoming more confident in her lie, “Can you get in touch with him and tell him that I have some information he’ll want to see as soon as possible on a certain individual? He’ll know who I mean.”
<o></o>
The secretary sighed in annoyance, but didn’t want to risk angering Cryg’ll in the event that Rowan was telling the truth. After a minute, she came out of her office and sighed, telling Rowan Cryg’ll would be here in twenty minutes and she could wait for him in the room as she always did. Rowan thanked her and walked into the rest of the lobby to find someone she could get some food from. A couple of girls Cryg’ll took pleasure in the company of were lounging around the bar waiting for a potential customer to approach them. Some of the newer ones felt sorry for her, because they saw her as being one of the few people with an existence more pathetic than theirs. She was sure if one of the newer ones didn’t feed her, the other ones would give her at least a bite to eat, especially if she moved the top of her shirt around so they could see the bruises Cryg’ll left on her.
<o></o>
Hesitantly she approached them, trying to remember what their names were. They all had funny names, like Muffin and Twinkle, so they kinda ran together in Rowan’s mind. They all looked so similar to her too, despite knowing some of them for most of her life. Luckily one of them greeted her before she had to say hello to them. She tuned out most of what the prostitute said, instead focusing on looking gaunt, sad, and pathetic. Eventually they started offering her some food, one of them gave her an apple, others gave her half a sandwich, some carrots, a few slices of bread, the younger looking ones tried to give her some alcohol but the rest of them chastised those girls for offering alcohol to her when she was obviously going to meet Cryg’ll and needed all her wits about her.
<o></o>
She’d forgotten how ravenous she was until they started handing her food. So the minute she had a chance to, she sat down, despite the carpet being grimy and her being sure there were things trapped in the fibers she wouldn’t want to know about. Once she took her first bite, she couldn’t stop herself from stuffing the food into her mouth at an insane pace. Two of the women watching her had tried to make her slow down, but the lady that seemed to be the head prostitute had waved them off with a sad look in her eye. In less than a minute, she’d consumed all her food, leaving her with a slight stomach ache, but a feeling of fullness she rarely felt anymore.
<o></o>
Shakily, she stood up and thanked them and told them Cryg’ll should be here soon and if they wanted to try to delay him any, they were welcome to try. Her head told her than no amount of lustful glances or unspoken promises could distract him now that he had the idea that Frontev had betrayed him in his mind. Their ringleader wished her the best of luck and told her they would be here when she was done if she needed them. Rowan was sure they would still be there, but she wasn’t sure she would be coming out of that room in one piece.
<o></o>
All the same she was gracious for what they had done and were willing to do for her; she supposed it was a holdover from when she was younger. She had been one of the few children that hung around the hotel so they had treated her like their child since they would never have any. Cryg’ll had always found the girls having children in their line of work to be a major problem. A few years ago one of the girls had tried to hide her pregnancy, once he’d found out he’d tried to make her get an abortion, and when that failed, cut it out himself in front of the other girls to make sure none of them ever tried the same thing. So she had gotten the affection and treats they would have normally lavished on their own children. Medlar tried to limit her time with them, afraid she would grow up to become one of them. Disgust washed over her and she was afraid she was going to be sick just by thinking about what he would think of the mess her life was now.
<o></o>
She walked away from them, down the hall to the room. Entering it, she noticed the sheets hadn’t been changed since she’d gotten paid and felt a wave of panic rise in her as the memories surfaced full force. She rarely had to deal with seeing Cryg’ll this soon after; she’d grown dependant on that time she had to spend with Kryzt to get her mind back to functioning normally. Looking around helplessly for a piece of furniture that hadn’t been contaminated by Cryg’ll and her dealings, she settle on kneeling under the table. Nerves racked, she waited in hopes that the man who had followed her here would show up, preferably before Cryg’ll.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime watched the thing run inside the building with a raised eyebrow. Her running across a street like Hell was behind her would attract more attention than he would asking to use the fresher in a female spa. He stepped out into the street and sifted his way across traffic and the people milling about aimlessly in their pointless low standard livelihoods. Hawkins made his way towards the side alley, third window, ground floor...

=======

Maximillion Cryg'll stepped out of his Mark IV speeder and pushed his way through the small crowd of people between the curb of the street and the entrance to his hotel. His slimed back his long black hair as he passed the door guards and the wench at the front desk readjusted herself so she could begin the daily session of sychophantism she was so accustomed to. His reflection was barely visible in the muggy mirror of a floor he had put in the place a couple of years ago. His suit almost didn't look right as if it didn't look as perfect as he knew it looked while he wore it. Cryg'll heard it all the time, he was such a handsome devil. Maxi could ask any of his girls lounging about the place and they'd say it before he asked.

But there were priorities. Averre had said something urgent had come up and he'd just seen her too so it obviously couldn't wait. Well, it had to do with Frontev didn't it. That was the only emergency that Maxi was expecting, the moment that Frontev would finally turn on them and they'd have to find a new guard to take part in the festivities. Being the spokesman for the Starved Market, he was being paid, through shared investments and stock of course, to talk and negotiate the Market's wants and needs and how it can better meet the demand of their clients. He was a master for it and the word on the street had him the title of 'The Tongue.' He wasn't ashamed of the respect he deserved.

"Heeeeeey Maxi, How you doin' today, toots'?"

"Blazing sugarbaby, now unlock room 105 for me."

Cryg'll didn't take a chance to stop at the desk or even glance around. Xixtu, his twi'lek body guard followed silently. The door opened as soon as he neared it and Xixtu took up a place just outside.

"Averre? Where are you?"

He entered the room and dropped his key cards and credit vouchers on the small coffee table. Like always. He figured, after the most recent events, he might as well get something worth its pleasure out of this, especially if something was going wrong.

Not to mention this new appearance, the Man with the Pale Face. Cryg'll had sent three after him and none of them had returned and then all the sudden Cryg'll's information network had started to unravel itself. All in the name of this... Pale Face. And then he'd made a trace to Kryzt. And Kryzt had admitted to divulging information about Cryg'll. Maxi didn't take the time to figure out what, he'd lost his temper unfortunately, and Kryzt was... Oh, that would be a wonderful point to bring up for Rowan, now wouldn't?

"Come out, Averre. I don't have time for games."

[Rowan Averre]

Rowan had been kneeling under the table for few minutes when she heard the door swing open. For one moment, she hoped that it was the man that followed her here, maybe he had used his force powers to convince the secretary to open the door. However a few seconds later Cryg’ll stepped through the door, presumably with his creepy twi'lek standing outside. If the man from her apartment was going to come, he’d better come soon and he’d better listen to her about not coming in the front, or Cryg’ll’s bodyguard would make short work of him.
<o></o>
"Averre? Where are you?"<!---->
<!--[endif]-->
She tried not to whimper in fear. As the seconds passed she became more and more convinced that the man wouldn’t show just like she had originally thought and she would end up dead. She pressed herself up closer to the wall, watching Cryg’ll as he walked over to where she was hiding, and heard him place his stuff onto the table. Her time had run out, but maybe she could stall in bit and what, run away? Maybe Kryzt would come save her. Yeah, she tried to convince herself, he’d go to her apartment feeling sorry for betraying her, see she wasn’t there, and come here looking for her. He wouldn’t let Cryg’ll kill her, rape yeah, but murder, of course not. He loved her, right?

[I]"Come out, Averre. I don't have time for games."
<o></o>
Rowan’s skin crawled at the tone of his voice, as she slowly inched out from her hiding place and stood up.
<o></o>
“Sorry,” she murmured as she pulled her datapad out of her jacket pocket, and placed it softly on the table, moving to stand in front of him, rather than against the wall. “I wasn’t hiding from you, but ummm from like in case ummm a person renting a room for like an hour or two with you know ummm one of your girls or something had ummm accidently seen me, ummm not like anyone ummm did but the girls because I was super careful, but ummm yeah you know, like yeah…” Rowan’s voice trailed off. She was such a horrible liar. In the span of fifteen seconds her hands had been twisting in her hair, rubbing at her eyes, the tip of her fingers had been in her mouth, and she finally jammed her hands in her jacket pockets without realizing how much they had been moving around.
<o></o>
She looked up at Cryg’ll, and then let her head fall back down to look at the ground while slowly taking her jacket off followed by pushing her sleeves up, to show off the bruises he’d left on her the night before. Rowan was used to this silence by now, Cryg’ll loved listening to her dig herself further and further into a hole. She scuffed her foot against the floor as she started talking in a whisper, “Sorry, my throat kinda still hurts from umm yeah last night…” She darted her eyes up, and upon seeing his leering smile, she backed up until her legs came in contact with the bed and fell onto it, hoping Cryg’ll would assume she had tripped. She tried not to wince in disgust at the messiness of the bed, reminding her of exactly what she had been through the night before and would likely have to go through tonight.
<o></o>
If possible, his smile got wider, more predatory and he moved over her on the bed basically pinning her down. “Please not now,” she began to beg, trying to bait him, but quickly realizing she meant every word. Her voice got frantic, more desperate, “Please, please, Frontev’s been telling the guards all this insider information and he’s been giving some pirates shipping codes and tracking stuff; look you can see on my data pad, I have some transcripts of his comm link transmissions.” This was so much worse than last night, at least last night was expected and almost normal, as much as she hated it. She turned her head to the side, trying not to flinch and avoid looking in his eyes at the same time. Whimpering, his silence filled her ears, messing with her mind. Rowan wanted so desperately not to beg, but he still wouldn’t say anything.
<o></o>
And finally, a futile attempt at getting him to take mercy on her, “Please, please I haven’t even gotten to see Kryzt today.” Cryg’ll laughter rung in her ears at the completion of her sentence, causing Rowan’s stomach to knot in fear and leaving her unable to continue her pleading.

[Hawkins Grime]

Maxi leaned in, his lips were centimeters from her ear as his laughing toned down and he whispered with the most malicious glee.

"Oh, oh dear. Kryzt? Well... I suppose you could still see him if you wanted to. And how I bet you'll do. But..."

More whispered laughter.

"I'm not so sure he'll be much of a conversation. See. Kryzt told me that he ratted me out to someone who wants my head. He told me! Can you believe that?!"

Maxi pushed himself up, looking to the wall, as if talking to himself. Rowan had seen this side sometimes, when Cryg'll seemed capable of deep thought, and generally when his most sadistic ideas rose to the top from the dredges of his mind.

"That man... with the pale face... and now Frontev..."

He actually pushed away from her and turned to the edge of the bed, sitting with his legs hanging from the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. Maxi would never admit to it but what Kryzt said, the scar he had shown, the brand of a hand burnt into his chest recently, it all had his nerves off the level. Even enjoying the reaction of Rowan as she comprehended what happened to Kryzt was lost to him.

[Rowan Averre]

Rowan flinched and turned her head to the side as Cryg’ll leaned in closer, slightly worried as his laughter got softer. She grimaced in disgust as she felt his breath hot against her ear. Pressing her fingernails against her hand, she tried to keep herself from pushing him off her and running out of the room away from his laughter. However, upon hearing the tone of his voice, she realized her body was frozen in fear of what was to come and listened in mute acceptance as he began to talk.
<o></o>
"Oh, oh dear. Kryzt? Well... I suppose you could still see him if you wanted to. And how I bet you'll do. But..."<o></o>
<o></o>
Rowan hated words sometimes, they were so much more confusing than circuits and electronics. It seemed like no matter how much was said, they always meant more than was spoken, especially when Cryg’ll was voicing them. The pause between the words and when his laughter picked back up was the worst, with the words hanging in the air over her head, just out of reach of her comprehension. Finally his laughter began, as her brain shifted and tried its hardest to understand what he was telling her, which only succeeded in driving home just how out of control she was in this situation.
<o></o>
"I'm not so sure he'll be much of a conversation. See. Kryzt told me that he ratted me out to someone who wants my head. He told me! Can you believe that?!"<o></o>

Her eyes darted around, looking at a myriad of places on the wall. She wanted to beg him to repeat what he had just said, so maybe somewhere in the haze that was fogging her mind, she could grasp just what had happened or was happening to her Kryzt. Like usual though she failed to gain control of her voice to express her confusion, his voice frightening her and her mind into submission.
<o></o>
He eased some of his weight off her as he looked up at the wall, making it a bit easier for her to breathe, and she hoped, eventually easier for her to think. She tried to resist the urge to glance up at him as he lost himself in though, but she knew nothing good came of these moments and looking at him would just make it so much worse. Her stomach dropped as she thought about the implications of this occurring right after talking about Kryzt.

"That man... with the pale face... and now Frontev..."<o></o>

[Hawkins Grime]

The Tongue buried his face into his hands as he made a long audible sigh. As he finished, he began to turn his face back towards Rowan when it felt as if he had been punched in the stomach, lifted up into the air, and slammed against the wall, his feet almost a foot off the ground.

Grime stepped out of the bathroom, the room instantly heating up upon his arrival. How he had gotten in through the secured window wasn't important, or how he'd done it so quickly, or even without being heard. Suddenly sound proof rooms didn't seem like such a good idea to have installed on Cryg'll's part. Cryg'll was on his feet in time to be rushed by a black mass. Rowan was forgotten upon the bed at this point. Inches from each other now, Maximillion was staring into the eyes of Hawkins Grime, his mouth working open and closed as he gasped for air. Both of Grime's hands were holding Cryg'll off the ground, that smell of burning flesh pervading the air.

"Yes, Tongue. THAT man with the pale face. The Inferno. Hawkins Grime. Not that you'll have time to pass it along."

With that the intensity in Grime faded in one step back as Cryg'll crumpled to the ground gasping for air. Hand prints were branded into his neck, Maxi's fingers pulled back flaking pieces of skin from the blisters that were already forming. His eyes were rolling about, as if in shock, amazement that this was even happening. Grime knew the reaction well. Maybe too well. When all the factors of control fell through, when everything you had was taken from you at the most sideways angle and there was absolutely no way to go back to it.

Not that Grime had anything in common with this sewer scum. His metal hand reached out and grabbed a tuft of the man's slicked back hair and methodically drug the squirming body into the bathroom.

Letting go of Maximillion's hair, the injured man instantly attempted to spring to his feet and escape. The metal boot that snapped his shin below his knee went all the way through, half of Cryg'll's body falling back into the bedroom, his eyes brimmed with tears as he frantically looked through the room and to Rowan. He opened his mouth to speak but only a dry raspy moan came out. Hawkins had burnt his vocals. It must've been extremely painful to even breath at that point.

Grime grabbed the man by his neck and his arm and tossed the body into the shower stall; blood was leaking from the open fracture on the Tongue's leg by now. The tall man hit the water on and it cascaded upon the rag doll form of the Tongue, cold at first but with Grime present and that it was already set to the hottest it would go, it quickly changed temperature. A metal fist collided with the Tongue's nose for good measure and then Grime sat back onto the counter as the man squirmed, moaned, cradled his nose as the blood flowed and diluted in the oncoming water.

"I don't even need anything from you, Tongue... Nothing that you can really negotiate for. Everything you had is more or less mine. And you don't get a second chance. Not like I did. You don't deserve it."

How ironic! How bloody ironic! But fitting. Grime's anger was only mounting as the situation ran so linear to his own. But he wasn't a fool like the others had been. No, this one would die. He wouldn't have the chance to come back and wreak a vengeful destruction upon Grime for this atrocity commited upon him. It was a matter of superiority, not luck that Grime had survived. Sheer will power had overcome a year of torture, far worse than anything this man would have to endure for only so long. This man would only die once whereas Grime had died over and over and over. And so many more had beyond Grime. The realization hadn't just sunk in when Hawkins' former life had been completely annihilated, it was only until afterwards that it had, culminating at points like these where the similarities of fate and destruction were so well clarified.

[Rowan Averre]

Once Cyrg’ll had gotten off Rowan, she sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, crossing her ankles. She’d never seen Cryg’ll like this; it was disconcerting to say the least. She’d always seen him as a sort of unshakeable rock, a bit paranoid to be sure, especially when it came to the five, but she’d never seen him so stressed or worried looking. He wasn’t like Kryzt or her, he kept cool, could talk his way out of anything. His attitude now only served to magnify the stress she felt about dealing with that disturbing man and trying to piece out what exactly Cryg’ll had done to Kryzt.
<o></o>
For a second she placed the temples of her head between her knees, squeezing in an attempt to relieve some tension. Her head jerked back up at the sound of a sudden noise, and she saw Cryg’ll go flying into the wall. Rowan’s fear began to ease off when she felt the room heat up; her suspicions were confirmed when she turned to look at the bathroom and saw the man, finally, she thought with some satisfaction, walk into the room.
<o></o>
However, once he went to work on Cryg’ll, any satisfaction Rowan felt at knowing she hadn’t been abandoned, wore off into unadulterated horror. Kryzt flashed into Rowan’s mind as Cryg’ll’s flesh burnt and she wondered if the pain Cryg’ll was feeling was anything like what her Kryzt had felt. She hoped to god it was worse, not necessarily because she wanted to see Cryg’ll in pain, but because she didn’t like the idea of Kryzt being in as much pain as Cryg’ll seemed to be.
<o></o>
"Yes, Tongue. THAT man with the pale face. The Inferno. Hawkins Grime. Not that you'll have time to pass it along."<o></o>
<o></o>
Rowan stared at Grime in shock, this strange man actually had a name? Dropping her head to stare at the pattern on the bedspread, she lost herself in thought. In the short time she had known him, she’d imagined him as more of an entity than a human. But no, he was human just like her, just like Cryg’ll. She’d never had a problem thinking of Cryg’ll as human, despite the things he did to her, which ironically Kryzt considered to be inhuman. She didn’t consider them as such, to her they were proof of his humanity, the dark side of humanity to be sure, but still proof he was human. <o></o>
<o></o>
She was brought out of her musings by a movement out of the corner of her eyes. Looking up, she saw Grime dragging Cryg’ll across the floor towards the bathroom. As she looked closer, she saw there was something on his neck. In horror she wondered, were those pieces of skin that were flaking off of Cryg’ll’s neck? <o></o>
<o></o>
She felt a queasy feeling form in her stomach as she stared at his neck, wondering how bad Kryzt’s burn had been and why she couldn’t just be helping him now instead of dealing with this. If that is, a little voice in her head reminded her, he was still alive and whole for her to help. But, Rowan, despite the years of abuse, was able to push the more negative thoughts of her aside with surprising ease, because if Kryzt was dead, how in the world could she ever survive? And Cryg’ll would want her to survive of course. Thus, Kryzt couldn’t be dead even if he had told Cryg’ll about Grime. Part of her wanted to scream at the rest of her that she was being foolish, and tried to steel her for what was to come, but to no avail.<o></o>
<o></o>
A snap and a crunch and the queasy feeling got worse. For a moment Cryg’ll’s eyes met hers and she wished she could help him so badly. No one deserved this much pain and suffering. She’d lived with more than enough pain, mentally and physically, for most of her life. Even the man that caused all of it didn’t deserve half of what she had dealt with. Kryzt had always told her she was too forgiving; when she was a kid the other children would tease her and exclude her from their games, but despite her tears, she’d never had any dreams about getting revenge on them. <o></o>
<o></o>
As she grew older and the aggressors changed and their actions grew more damaging, she’d started wishing horrible, horrible things on them. Finally her anger and frustration cumulated in her begging Kryzt to kill Cryg’ll for her. He’d refused, citing the risk as being too great and reminding her that he was unwilling to deal with the effects that came after. She’d realized a week after that it was the best decision he could have made. She wasn’t a killer, she didn’t really want people hurt or killed for her or by her despite the hurt she might have felt at the time. Seeing Cryg’ll in this pain didn’t make her happy or feel better inside. It made her sick and to be honest, she felt a great deal of pity for him. She wished she had the strength to make Grime stop. <o></o>
<o></o>
She crept off the bed and followed them as Grime threw Cryg’ll into the shower and turned the water on as hot as it could go. A broken nose was added to Cryg’ll’s pain as Grime stared at him condescendingly. <o></o>
<o></o>
"I don't even need anything from you, Tongue... Nothing that you can really negotiate for. Everything you had is more or less mine. And you don't get a second chance. Not like I did. You don't deserve it."<o></o>
<o></o>
Rowan’s blood chilled at that. There it was, she had to admit it now. Grime wasn’t just going to hurt Cryg’ll, he was going to kill him. All the murders she had ever seen, all the pain and suffering others had inflicted on her, it all clouded her mind and the horror formed a ball inside her stomach making the queasiness that much worse. She tried to convince herself he deserved this for what he had done to Medlar and what he probably did to Kryzt. Instead it made her feel worse, until she couldn’t prevent the sick feeling from getting to her and the next thing she knew, she was kneeling on the floor and everything she had eaten was on the floor in front of her. <o></o>
<o></o>
Her body, and more importantly her mind, couldn’t take much more of this. It especially wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Cryg’ll brutally murdered by this man right in front of her if she just stood by and idly did nothing. So here it was, tine to face the music. Would the world be any better off without him? Maybe, but there would always be men like him in life. The monsters under her bed wouldn’t magically disappear along with his life. <o></o>
<o></o>
Rowan stood up, stepping around the mess on the carpet, to stand in the door of the bathroom. Forcing herself to meet Grime’s eyes for the first time that night she asked in the clearest voice she could manage, “Isn’t that enough? You made your point, why won’t you just stop?”<o></o>

[Hawkins Grime]

The Tongue turned to look at Rowan, the explicit gaze of begging for something, anything, some kind of release or aid being conveyed through his eyes. One hand was lifted away from his nose as it was lifted up towards her as if reaching for her was going to help him at all.

Grime stood, the sound of the shower in the background and then suddenly the mirror behind him cracked and shattered. His eyes turned to Rowan and he spoke through gritted teeth as he drew his sword with ease in the small confines of the bathroom, as if Hawkins had done it before and was comfortable with it.

"I could see from the bathroom how things are between you and this..."

The sword arced down and amputated the arm at the elbow. The running shower kept the spray of blood minimal but nothing stopped Maximillion Cryg'll from screaming in response.

"Consider it a release... what did he say your name was... Averre? Consider it a release, Averre."

Hawkins' raspy voice reached her ears over the moaning as he bent over and picked up the twitching hand.

"People are not animals. Animals learn from pain, learn to avoid it and continue existing. They shy away from it. This..."

Grime turned back towards the moaning Cryg'll, cradling his stump of an arm against his chest, blood slowly leaking out. The smell of burnt flesh immediately filled the air as the twitching amputated limb roasted in his grip. No, none of the men responsible for the year of torment and mind obliterating pain would ever understand what they inflicted upon Grime. Ever.

"... is a sentient being. Uncapable of bearing true to such instincts because it believes that if it keeps trying, it will eventually achieve that which it desires. Because a sentient being has hope, and in hope loses any chance of merely coming to terms with its place in the universe."

Grime tossed the burnt limb and it rolled, leaving a trail of burnt skin and globs of black blood behind it, resting at her feet. He knelt down before the sobbing form, the hot water now running over his exoskeleton, his hat was resting on the counter, and the water ran through Grime's long artificial hair, plastering it to his white, marble face. He couldn't feel any of it and that bothered him none to say the least. Hawkins' metal hand reached forward and fishhooked the side of Cryg'll's mouth as his other hand reached in and his clockwork fingers closed on the squirming length of Cryg'll's tongue. His other hand abandoned the side of the mouth once Grime had the tongue well enough. Maximillion's wide eyes watched the free hand, his breathing coming rapidly and rushed, as it grasped the sword by the blade, leaving just the tip above it, the length of a small knife. Of course, the vibro-function was off but it was still a keen edge. It all happened so far and even this was leaving Cryg'll in shock. Grime brought the edge down quickly, like a miniature guillotine as it cut the tongue cleanly, blood spilling down his chin.

Grime had lost his hope upon capture; it had not been hope that had driven him to keep going. It had been the hatred, the pain, the unholy amount of torment had fueled him like a fusion reactor, keeping his skinless, mutilated form going beyond any rhyme or reason. And the cries of his friends, his woman, his own screams. Everything had been his to lose and they hadn't only taken it from him. They had destroyed it. Destroyed and violated everything that he had claimed dear. What was happening to this thing, to The Tongue of Iziz, was nothing in comparison. Absolutely nothing.

Grime stood, his tired eyes looking down at the broken face of Maximillion Cryg'll. His eyes were rolling about as moaned, what was left of the man was rolling on the ground in pain as scalding hot water ran over him. Red water dripped from Grime's black hands as he stepped out of the water and looked to Rowan.

"He'll bleed to death now."

He picked his sword back up and dropped the severed tongue on the ground, placing his hat back on top of his head.

"Now. Go out through that window and get out of here, Averre. I'll return to your apartment in two days."

Grime wanted her out of his sight for a number of reasons. For the main part, he needed the information she had and what she was capable of. She was an invaluable asset to maintaining the business he was currently overthrowing. Secondly, her questions. They were too similar to questions he had heard before. But she was gone, long gone now. And even the idea of her made Grime's pathetic existence all that more... hopeless.

[Rowan Averre]

Rowan hated blood, hated violence, hated everything that this was and would become. She hated Cryg’ll, hated him with every fiber of her being, but looking at him lying there as his blood tinged the water she wished she could do anything but sit here and watch.
<o></o>
Behind Grime, the mirror shattered, and she cocked her head in confusion as they fell silently to the ground like snowflakes. She watched as he drew his sword, so slowly she felt she could reach out and take it from him. Her body felt so heavy though, the harder she tried to pull her arm away from her side, the heavier it got.
<o></o>
He started to talk, but no noise came out, his lips moving in exaggerated slowness. Everything was slowing down, she felt so dizzy and tired. She tilted her head as Grime’s sword moved towards Cryg’ll, the blood that resulted reminded her of those movies Kryzt liked to watch where everything looked so, so fake. This wasn’t real, couldn’t be, things like this didn’t happen to people like her. Her eyes glazed over and she lost herself in confusion and disbelief. Grime talked again, no noise still. The world was silent, silent and still. It reminded her of a cold winter morning, where all the world was covered in snow and everything was just still and white and pure and perfect.
<o></o>
Tonight, she would wake up and Kryzt would be there and he would kiss away all the fear and confusion and all the bad dreams would disappear. The smell of burning flesh reached her nose for a second and then it was gone. She watched as Grime did things she was sure people only did in movies; she’d never seen them herself, Kryzt had always covered her eyes at the bad parts. Kryzt, she missed her Kryzt. And then she was lost, drowning in memories, oblivious to all that was going around her.
<o></o>
She was sick of watching this now, the Tounge’s tounge on the ground? Her brain was becoming oddly metaphoric. The monster in her dream said something she couldn’t hear and motioned towards the window. Leaving would be nice, windows generally weren’t her favorite way to leave, but if she left this way, she wouldn’t have to get near her subconscious idea of Cryg’ll.
<o></o>
She walked around the city in a daze, finally deciding she might as well see if Kryzt would show up in her dream if she went over to his place. She was amazed at how slow everything around her was moving, though she seemed to be moving at a normal speed again.
<o></o>
Finally she got to Kryzt’s place and walked in. Her world stopped, then started back up at a pace she couldn’t handle. She staggered, falling to the ground as her brain tried to comprehend what she was seeing. Her ears felt like they were exploding as the sounds of the city filled them once again. And then she smelt blood, the burning of flesh, and the beginning of decay. All her nerves and senses were hypersensitive. And then she knew that this was no dream, that it was her Kryzt and not dream-Kryzt that laid facedown on the stove in his kitchen.