The Lonely Position of Neutral [Open]

[Syren Lysandor]

All she wanted to do was feel something, but pain seemed to be the most effective. Sometimes, she would scavenge needles and stab them repeatedly into her skin until she felt the stinging sensation in her muscles that let her know it wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.

Tonight, like any other, Eve had 'tucked her in' and left the room, to have her mind wonder why she was ressurected like she always did. And Syren never slept. She snuck out of bed this time and crept past the sleeping form of Eve, who always watched over her, and slipped out the door. She didn't even bother to take off her white nightgown and change into something more decent.

Standing outside the condominium the two were staying in, the red-head watched the city life unwravel in its crime and splenderous lights. She felt so dead inside - well, actually, she was. With no soul, she was an empty shell that lived.

"Such a pretty girl," sneered a man who walked past her. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him.

"It's not good to stay out on the streets all alone ... Someone bad might come along and snatch you up."

He gave her a good shake as if to emphasize his words, then laughed.

"Will you show me pain ?"

He blinked, then grinned once more as he nodded. Still holding onto her wrist, he began to walk away pulling her with him. She, of course, just wanted the sensation to make her feel alive. And pain was the most vivid of colors, brightening the world of Becoming.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Up ahead, from the shadows, two cyan eyes watched ...

[Syren Lysandor]

He dragged her into an alley - the most preferable choice of scum - and slammed her up against a brick wall. He smelled of liquor and Syren turned her head, so she wouldn't have to look. His fingers fumbled around the strings at her waist as to undo the gown, and she immediately brought her hands up and grasped his.

"No."

He shook himself free and formed a fist with his right hand, and brought it down onto the side of her face ... but that was what she wanted all along. After he struck her, Syren smiled inwardly and reached up to grab his fist. Running her fingers over it, she let go and said, "Do it again."

He struck her again and she fell to the dirty ground. Gingerly touching the side of her lip, she could feel blood and looked back up at him.

"Now it's time for what I want !"

He bent down and rolled her over so she was on her back, and tried to kiss her. She turned her head so he couldn't, and he grabbed her hair and pulled on it. More pain. It was like she was a druggie, hooked on the buzz that physical violence gave. She wanted more, but he wanted other things.

Reaching up, Syren wrapped her hands around his neck and tightened her grip, beginning to choke him.

"Do you like pain, too?"

He looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion, and began to struggle. Letting go in disgust, she instead used the Force to wrap itself around his trachea and apply pressure. Slowly standing up, she wiped her hands on her now-dirty nightgown and began to walk back out the alley. Now she would have to find some other way to give her what she craved most ..

[Vega Van-Derveld]

As Syren paced along the street, a figure hunched over at her feet coughed. Whoever it was they were leant back against the wall to her left, with a cloak pulled tightly around them and hood over their face. Very quietly they said in an oh-so familiar voice, with a underlying hint of pomposity to it:

“Got some spare change?”

[Syren Lysandor]

Looking down at her left, Syren heard a voice that sounded so familiar, that if she tried hard enough she could remember who it was. But she couldn't.

Her mind had basically erased all she remembered since the Ritual, and even if she saw the person's face it would take some time for it to register.

"I .. No," she whispered, taking a step back.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Oh,” came the disappointed reply.

“.. Are you... Alright? Looked like that fella gave you a shakin’, though seems as though you gave him what fore, even if ya did… encourage him.”

[Syren Lysandor]

"Alright," she muttered the word to herself, as if it were foreign.

"Can you give me more ?"

Syren canted her head to the side slightly, ignoring the cold breeze that brushed itself against her skin. Maybe this person could make her hurt more; longer.

".. Please ?"

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Only one word came from beneath the hood as a reply.

“Why?”

[Syren Lysandor]

"Because I like it."

Surely it wasn't that hard of a thing to ask, so why wasn't he doing it? Maybe he needed to be provoked or reassured - neither came from her.

A wistful look overcame her face and she began to get closer to him, until she was only inches away.

"I can get you money."

Were those the words he needed to hear ? Anxiously she waited, for once feeling slightly excited. It was sick, and if Eve caught her on the streets askings favors like these, she would never be let out of her sight again.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Slowly but surely, the robed head rose upwards, until Syren was greeted with almost shimmering azure and a fang-tinted smile.

“I don’t want your money, Syren.”

[Syren Lysandor]

He knew her name, but how ? Frowning, she tried to get a look at the face but it was shadowed by the hood. The only visible thing was the mouth, and it seemed that he had canines that protruded over his lower lip.

".. Then, what do you want?"

She really wasn't nervous, to say at the least. Just .... curious.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“I want you to tell me why you don’t remember me, and why you are lusting so fiercely to inflict pain upon yourself.”

[Syren Lysandor]

Ah, hell, there was no harm in telling the stranger. Infact, even if he tried to kill her, it would make her one happy 'girl'.

"Pain makes me feel alive, after my soul was given to the Devil in exchange for Eve's life."

She shrugged, almost careless, and tugged at her gown. The cloth still felt odd to her sensitive fingertips, who were still getting used to touch. She also wondered why he just wanted to talk.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

A deep frown knitted into his brow at the mention of her soul being traded for the life of Eve. He had been most displeased when his sister had been so rudely awakened from her placid state, and it appeared that now he had found the culprit for the aforementioned crime. Hastily, he planted one hand against her throat and pulled her in closer, snarling.

“WHY did you bring her back to life?”

[Syren Lysandor]

Finally, she had awoken the aggressive nature of him ! A twisted grin played on her pale lips as his grip on her throat began to cut off her oxygen.

"She didn't like it .. down... there," she managed to choke out. Secretly, Syren hoped that the answer would aggravate him more, so he could let out his anger on her.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

His grip lessened, purely due to the fact that he knew it would displease her if he acted as such.

“Oh really? So you just decided it would be fine to steal her from me? She was my property.”

[Syren Lysandor]

The arrogance in his voice finally clicked in Syren's mind, and then, like a miracle, she knew who he was.

"Vega?"

His grip had lessened, and it made the grin from her face disappear as fast as it came. He was teasing her, and it only made her slightly pouty.

"She was Hell's property .. and asked me .. to bring her back."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Resurrection is playing God, which neither you nor your associates have the right to do.”

Without realising it, his fingers dug back against his flesh, claw-like nails driving against her flesh.

“In exchange for her life returning, do you not think a sacrifice should be made, greater than the loss of your so-called soul?”

[Syren Lysandor]

"And just what do you have in mind?"

It was incredibly hard to even speak now, and she was amazed that she even got the words out. The pain was intoxicating her mind and she felt dizzy with 'pleasure'. If he pushed harder, he would draw blood, and make the pain even sweeter.

".. What sacrifice -" she grimaced, "- do you think is.. appropriate?"

[Vega Van-Derveld]

As if commanded, he drove his claws harder and pricked at the soft tissue of her skin, sending a tiny stream of crimson down her neck.

“What of your life, Syren? Is it not fitting that you should ‘part this world?”

He sensed a rush of giddiness in her, which was returned with a smile and shake of his head.

“No. Far better for you to be alive and suffer your damnation.”

[Syren Lysandor]

"So there is.. no.. sacrifice."

Syren closed her blue eyes, feeling the warm blood trickle down her neck. She gave a slight shiver of delight.

"More."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Of course there is sacrifice. Only… I haven’t determined quite what yet. You have know loved ones or comrades for me to take from you, and I imagine that such things would only pleasure you more hmm?” he replied, watching the intoxicated and almost elated expression she wore.

A thought struck him.

“Perhaps I shall keep you.”

[Syren Lysandor]

Keep her? Eve wouldn't be too pleased with that, since she had taken it upon herself to watch almost every step Syren took. So she shook her head slightly.

"No, Eve wouldn't like that."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Oh she wouldn’t?” he asked in a patronizing tone.

“What about you Syren? Wouldn’t you like it? Don’t you enjoy…”

Vega paused and briefly increased the pressure he applied onto her neck before lessening it once more,

“…this?”

[Syren Lysandor]

She could feel herself straining for breath now - he was making it impossible to draw breath. But he knew she loved the ache in her lungs, the pain in her chest.

"Yes .. I.. like it."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“So who would you rather be with, hmmm? Over protective Eve who won’t let you do what you wish … or me, who can give you what you want?”

A wide grin spread over his lips as he leant forward, giving her a more clear look at his face – his eyes dancing with a maniacal glint from the lamp-light above.

[Syren Lysandor]

"I don't know," she replied lamely, but they both knew the answer. Eve wouldn't lay a finger on her to hurt her, but Vega .. that was a different story. He could make her feel alive once more with that brilliant splash of pain added to life, to make the world brighter.

But she just couldn't part from Eve.

It was like she was a puppy - attached to her owner, yet wanting to go home with every stranger she saw.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Eve is incapable of dealing with you Syren. She is lost where I know my way, she is inept where I am deft,” he said, his voice laced with self-righteous pride.

“Surely…”

He allowed his hand to slip from her neck and trace up to her chin, nipping it between two fingers.

“.. you understand.”

[Syren Lysandor]

She frowned.

"I understand .. but... Eve .."

Syren wasn't sure if he could even understand. She was attached to Eve, and didn't know if she could bear staying away. But his words were so convincing that she found herself wanting to leave this place, to where ever he would take her, so she could be tortured in cruel and hideous ways.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“But nothing.”

With amazing grace, he rose to his feet and managed to lift Syren with him, inflicting minimal strain upon her. The hood fell back from his head, revealing the smug grin that it seemed he constantly wore. For the first time he gave her a clear once over glance before looking off down the street…

“Come.”

… and began to walk, his hand slipping from her chin to grip her forearm.

[Syren Lysandor]

As soon as his hand grasped her arm, Syren began to follow him down the street. A cold smirk ran over her lips until she gave one last look at the condominium she shared with Eve. A slight pang of guilt struck her chest, but she simply shook it away with thoughts of what was to come. Maybe, if Vega would allow it, she could send a message to Eve and ask her to come and live with her.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

It was a dark evening, one of the few that Tempist had to enjoy now of days. As of late, his shcedule had been very full, correcting things that he'd wronged over his lifetime. He decided it was due time to pay a visit to a few good friends. On his way to the condo of the ressurected females, he sensed an odd presence, one that made no sense. Syren was out and about, but there was another with her, one he knew too well. Sighing slightly, Tempist lept into the air, and ran accross building roofs utnill he found the two in the street, with Vega dragging Syren along. He understood her need for pain, but he thought she'd atleast have the good sense not to go with this scum...

Boo. was the single word he broadcasted through the force to the two, both alerting them of his presence, and the hint of anger in his tone warned that it wasn't a good time to be aggrivating him. The shapeshifter fell down infront of them, blocking the street. He would not hold back in defending Syren, he'd brought her back to life for a reason.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Oh god… you know, just when I think I’ve managed to evade you for the last time, you appear again to torment me with your hideous presence.”

Vega gave Syren a good hard yank on the shoulder, pulling her up close to him. He slipped one arm around her body and pressed himself against her.

“If you’re here to complain that I’m taking her away, let me just inform you that she is coming with me of her own will, isn’t that right?”

He canted his head down and looked to Syren as he pawed absentmindedly at her hips and thighs.

[Syren Lysandor]

Her dark eyes locked themselves onto Tempist as he fell infront of them, staring at him almost blankly.

"Yes, Vega will help me feel alive," she said almost cheerfully.

She could sense irritation in him and wondered what was the matter. Didn't he want her to be the closest to feeling something as possible? Frowning, Syren pressed herself against Vega as if to protect herself from Tempist's own accusing glare.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

There are other ways, Syren. Pain may be the most vivid of colors, but it's not the only one in the spectrum. Besides, he will only show you pain for so long, then he'll ignore you for longer, and you'll wish for death again, a full death.

He finished his comment to Syren verbally, which would make for a rather confusing look from anyone who didn't know what was happening.

"...besides, if you really want pain that badly, it can be easily arranged, more intense than you've ever dreamed of."

[Syren Lysandor]

"But he will arrange it .... won't he?"

Vega wouldn't just forget about her, would he? She reached up to press her fingers against Vega's arm, to make sure he was real, before drawing her hand away. With all these new thoughts in her head, she was beginning to to doubt each decision she made, and bit on her lower lip. Syren just didn't know what to do anymore.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"Of course I won't forget about you Syren. This fool knows nothing of what he speaks, ignore him. I can give you everything, all he has to offer are delusions of power,"

Grinning to Tempist, he laced his fingers through Syrens and guarded her more protectively than before.

[Syren Lysandor]

To her, the matter was settled then. She would go with Vega, where he would torture her in nameless ways, and maybe Eve could move in with them. They could regularly pay visits to Tempist, too.

"There's not going to be any more arguing, is there ?"

She clutched onto Vega's hand tightly with her pale hand.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

Even though he knew it was the wrong descision, he didn't care anymore.

"Bah, fine then. Don't call to me when you see I was right."

Before disapearing into the air again, Tempist shook his wrist quickly, and sharply, launching a throwing dagger twards Syren's thigh, imbedding it in to the hilt. After that, the Dark One lept into the air, and seemed to disapear, as he hid his force signature while he made his way back to other things. He was still a busy man, and if Syren was going to be stubborn in her ways, then he wouldn't bother anymore.


She would see.

ooc: btw, Tempy's comment about Vega forgetting her was in her head, and Syren never voiced it. unless Vega was reading her mind the entire time, he would have no way of knowing what was said in her head.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

He inhaled and at the same time laughed, watching as Tempist vanished from view. Looking down to Syren, he gave her mid-section another nudge to get her attention.

"See... he abandoned you."

Shaking his head, he smiled to himself.

"They all will do. I'm the only one that you can trust."

[OOC: My apologies Temp.]

[Tempist the Uncaring]

Tempist hid his singature well, well enough for the lupine not to sense him there anymore. He heard what the "lord" had said about him, and frowned. Vega always did have a flare for propaganda.... he sent another message to Syren in her head, so the greysider couldn't hear.

I will never abandon you, but you must learn that things are not the same now, young one. When this <u>thing</u> forgets you, and you no longer have that feeling you cling to, you will see why I do this.

It hurt to walk away from her, she seemed like a child to him, one he must watch over and protect. Unfortunatley, he could only do so much. She was strong, she would overcome this monster that tried to take her. He knew it.

[Syren Lysandor]

She hadn't expected Tempist to throw a dagger at her thigh, and so obviously it buried deep into her skin .. Although, even if she did expect it, she probably would've made no move to stop it. Drawing in a sharp gasp, she could feel blood begin to run down her leg as she bent over and clutched the hilt, pulling it out. Dropping the dagger to the ground, Syren bit her lower lip as she straightened up, trying not to put much weight onto the wounded leg.

"Please ... Take me away, Vega."

Syren looked up at the Lupine as she heard Tempist's voice in her head. His words stung but she refused to believe him, unless the day came when Vega would forget her.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

He looked upwards for a brief moment then turned his eyes back on Syren. Vega took a step around her, though left one arm firmly hooked around her body as he began to walk - not slacking any pace at all to go easy upon her leg.

"Where do you want me to take you, Syren?"

[Syren Lysandor]

"Anywhere you want."

She grinned slightly as she began to put her weight on the injured leg, relishing the deep, burning sensation that dulled the rest of her senses.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The pair must have looked as they walked - the female limping with blood spilling out of a wound yet unflinching and apparently gaining some sadistic pleasure out of it, whilst the male simply relishing in the pain. Vega still, though, held Syren firmly, protectively even - or rather, possessively. He had wanted a 'toy' like this for some time, and it was a wonderful stroke of luck that he'd chanced across her.

"...Where is the last place in the universe you'd want to go?"

[Syren Lysandor]

It took a few minutes to get a response out of Syren, whose mind was processing all of the horrible places she remembered. Which weren't much.

"A laboratory," she said with a slight shudder. She only knew that was where she was created, where she died, and where she was reborn.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"What a coincidence, I have one of those," he chimed in response with a grin.

"How about we go there, hmm?"

[Syren Lysandor]

He .. wanted to go there? Something tugged at the back of the mind and she desperately tried to remember what the feeling she just had was. Alas, it was too late, for it had already disappeared and she forgot what she was trying to figure out.

"If you say so, Vega."