Post by The Mentalist on Aug 20, 2011 20:57:11 GMT -5
A commotion had been going on outside. Screams, gunshots, running footsteps; all of it was rather exciting. It made a change from the usual controlled atmosphere that this cargo ship gave off.
The galaxy class threat inside the cell knew nothing of it though. He was unaware of anything going on outside of his head. He was, to most, asleep with his eyes open. In all reality, he was just speaking with himself. All of him, in his head, gathered together for a chat. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He'd been doing this for the past few months. After a while, the same four walls of a cells got boring and tossing himself around had been no fun either. He usually ended up hurting himself. So instead, one day, he took a seat on the floor and stared into space. He hadn't changed his expression in a good few days, his position for weeks. He didn't even sleep. Hunger didn't bother him anymore, despite his dramatic weight and muscle loss. His hair hadn't stopped growing, it had become long, down to his shoulders and his stubble had grown into a full bushy beard.
He didn't care. In his head, he looked the same as he had before he was captured and turned into a play-thing. To all his other personalities, he looked good. Exactly how he wanted to be.
Even now, the casual conversation hadn't stopped. He'd got to know himself a lot better now, understanding some of what happened when he blacked out. There were 3 others who were willing to converse with him; Lukan, the small boy, The Gatekeeper as she called herself and the more intelligent side to himself. There were more, he knew that, but only 3 were willing to say hello. Each presented themselves differently to him.
Lukan was a young red-headed boy, of about 9, dressed in denim jeans, sneakers, a blue hoodie and a white top. His little blue eyes always shone with excitement at whatever toy was in his hand. He liked his soft toy the most, he always had her next to him. It was a girl rag-doll, with deep chestnut brown hair, blue button eyes, a beautiful smile and an outfit of purple jumper and jeans. He loved her so much- called her Lily. She never left his side.
The intelligent side chose to have a mirror image of the core personality. His sweep of hair went the opposite way and he wore black horn rimmed glasses all the time, a book always under his arm. The shirt, jeans and everything else was the same. He'd even chosen to keep the scarring.
And finally, The Gatekeeper was the most interesting. Long flowing red hair, golden eyes and a calm aura. She wore long flowing blood-red robes, gold details of swirls scattered throughout it. She always wore lipstick and was well spoken. She was someone the core had time for, whatever she said was relevant, no matter what the subject.
Each had their own mannerisms, most of which they expressed physically, outside of his head. When they were in control of the body. Lukan sucked his thumb and got over excited. The intelligence stayed silent, his words and wit chosen with great care and the gatekeeper raised the voice an octave. She could never stand the default deep, brutish voice.
She began the conversation again, gently speaking to Lukan.
"So, what do you want to do today sweetheart?"
He murmured, playing with his toy and nuzzling into the soft fabric.
"Nap... with Lily. sleep."
The intelligent side chirped up from the book it was buried in.
"If you sleep now too much, your body won't be able to sleep later. That could be incredibly problematic-"
The core raised his voice.
"Let him sleep. He'll feel better-"
For no real reason, the intelligent side started to nag at him.
"Is that what you think? Why are you still asleep then? Wake up. Wake up in that cold cell. Someone is waiting for you outside."
On that note, he blinked. He rubbed his eyes as best as he could with a straight jacket on. He was outside his head now, back in his cell. Reality was back and after a millisecond had gone past, The Mentalist remembered why he'd hated the place so much. His walls were filthy, he felt frozen and paralyzed.
He could then hear a commotion outside coming from a stranger (Magos) by his door. There was a muttering, a manly muttering. He couldn't quite make out what he'd said. The Mentalist groaned weakly, in a bad way. His lack of food and muscle left him feeling horrible, as if he'd see the inside of the toilet every 20 clicks. Rising to meet him however, The Mentalist struggled his way to the door and laid the bait. He weakly joked,
"If you can hear me... come on in. I would like some company."
Even his voice sounded bad. He needed nursed back to proper health before doing anything.
The galaxy class threat inside the cell knew nothing of it though. He was unaware of anything going on outside of his head. He was, to most, asleep with his eyes open. In all reality, he was just speaking with himself. All of him, in his head, gathered together for a chat. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He'd been doing this for the past few months. After a while, the same four walls of a cells got boring and tossing himself around had been no fun either. He usually ended up hurting himself. So instead, one day, he took a seat on the floor and stared into space. He hadn't changed his expression in a good few days, his position for weeks. He didn't even sleep. Hunger didn't bother him anymore, despite his dramatic weight and muscle loss. His hair hadn't stopped growing, it had become long, down to his shoulders and his stubble had grown into a full bushy beard.
He didn't care. In his head, he looked the same as he had before he was captured and turned into a play-thing. To all his other personalities, he looked good. Exactly how he wanted to be.
Even now, the casual conversation hadn't stopped. He'd got to know himself a lot better now, understanding some of what happened when he blacked out. There were 3 others who were willing to converse with him; Lukan, the small boy, The Gatekeeper as she called herself and the more intelligent side to himself. There were more, he knew that, but only 3 were willing to say hello. Each presented themselves differently to him.
Lukan was a young red-headed boy, of about 9, dressed in denim jeans, sneakers, a blue hoodie and a white top. His little blue eyes always shone with excitement at whatever toy was in his hand. He liked his soft toy the most, he always had her next to him. It was a girl rag-doll, with deep chestnut brown hair, blue button eyes, a beautiful smile and an outfit of purple jumper and jeans. He loved her so much- called her Lily. She never left his side.
The intelligent side chose to have a mirror image of the core personality. His sweep of hair went the opposite way and he wore black horn rimmed glasses all the time, a book always under his arm. The shirt, jeans and everything else was the same. He'd even chosen to keep the scarring.
And finally, The Gatekeeper was the most interesting. Long flowing red hair, golden eyes and a calm aura. She wore long flowing blood-red robes, gold details of swirls scattered throughout it. She always wore lipstick and was well spoken. She was someone the core had time for, whatever she said was relevant, no matter what the subject.
Each had their own mannerisms, most of which they expressed physically, outside of his head. When they were in control of the body. Lukan sucked his thumb and got over excited. The intelligence stayed silent, his words and wit chosen with great care and the gatekeeper raised the voice an octave. She could never stand the default deep, brutish voice.
She began the conversation again, gently speaking to Lukan.
"So, what do you want to do today sweetheart?"
He murmured, playing with his toy and nuzzling into the soft fabric.
"Nap... with Lily. sleep."
The intelligent side chirped up from the book it was buried in.
"If you sleep now too much, your body won't be able to sleep later. That could be incredibly problematic-"
The core raised his voice.
"Let him sleep. He'll feel better-"
For no real reason, the intelligent side started to nag at him.
"Is that what you think? Why are you still asleep then? Wake up. Wake up in that cold cell. Someone is waiting for you outside."
On that note, he blinked. He rubbed his eyes as best as he could with a straight jacket on. He was outside his head now, back in his cell. Reality was back and after a millisecond had gone past, The Mentalist remembered why he'd hated the place so much. His walls were filthy, he felt frozen and paralyzed.
He could then hear a commotion outside coming from a stranger (Magos) by his door. There was a muttering, a manly muttering. He couldn't quite make out what he'd said. The Mentalist groaned weakly, in a bad way. His lack of food and muscle left him feeling horrible, as if he'd see the inside of the toilet every 20 clicks. Rising to meet him however, The Mentalist struggled his way to the door and laid the bait. He weakly joked,
"If you can hear me... come on in. I would like some company."
Even his voice sounded bad. He needed nursed back to proper health before doing anything.
