tw: torture When Rey next awoke, she was once again bound, but this time she wasn’t held by some nebulous force, and could instead feel the bindings cutting into her wrists and ankles where they were tied too tightly. Subtly, as to not draw attention to the fact that she had awakened, she tried shifting where she was lying down on the medbay cot in a futile attempt to wriggle out of her restraints. It was of no use, however, and Rey barely held onto a cry as she felt her bindings cut into her skin and blood trickle stickily down her arm.
With the pneumatic hiss of the doors, Rey started, completely forgetting about her ruse to feign sleep.
“Good, you are awake,” came the highly modulated voice. Even through the effect that the aspirator of the dark metallic mask had, Rey could still discern a note of unbridled curiosity.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Rey snarked back in response. “This could all be a nightmare.”
For a long moment the figure didn’t respond, and just stood by the medbay entrance appraising her. It dragged on so long that Rey wondered if she hadn’t taken a harder hit to the head than she originally thought, and had made up this new encounter in some sort of stress-induced delusion. Abruptly, the dark figure stormed forward towards her, dark robes billowing behind. They bent over at the waist, dark mask looming right next to her face.
“You know nothing of true nightmares,” hissed the figure menacingly. “But perhaps I could show you.”
“If it’s anything like your fashion sense, I believe you,” deflected Rey, hoping that her voice wasn’t wavering as much as she felt it had.
The figure let out a low growl, which through the voice modulator, came out shrill like the grinding of gears, and the proximity to her ears made her cringe more than the attempt at intimidation. Her flinch seemed to satisfy the figure, however, and they stood back up. This close to her, Rey noted just how tall the figure really was. Their head almost hit the ceiling of the cramped little medbay on whichever shuttlecraft they had her held on.
Suddenly, her pendant was dangling before her, and Rey, forgetting about her predicament, made an instinctual movement to grab it. When the bindings cut further into her flesh, she let out a hiss through her teeth and the figure chuckled low, and derisively. Rey huffed at being the source of amusement for such a… charming person, and turned her to the far wall in an attempt to ignore the figure.
“No,” snapped the figure, and her head snapped with it, facing them of its own accord. Desperately, she tried to turn it back away, but whichever invisible force held her, held her tightly.
“No,” repeated the figure, albeit more softly this time. “This is mine now, but I would have you tell me where you found it.”
“No,” mimicked Rey, refusing to give an inch to this monster who had already taken a mile. Had also probably taken her miles, even light years, away from her home, from everything she had ever known. It was petty of her, but it was the only way that she could assert her agency. She refused to become some snivelling sleemo and lose the last shreds of her dignity on top of everything else that had already been taken from her.
“Tell me—“
“No,” interrupted Rey.”
“Very well, then I shall take it from you.”
Pain. That was Rey’s first thought. Well, reaction, really, as she wasn’t really capable of thought beyond a series of indefinite invectives echoing in her mind in a cacophony of “ow, that hurts” No, perhaps pain wasn’t even the right term to use. It hurt, certainly. But pain seemed like too light a term to use. It went far beyond pain, beyond agony. It was completely and utterly excruciating.
It felt like the time when she accidentally zapped her finger on a live wire when she was stripping down a site, scavenging for parts back on Jakku. Back what felt like a lifetime ago. For all intents and purposes it was, because all this life was was pain. The pain of her entire brain being zapped by live wires. It was constant, with no reprieve. She couldn’t just snatch her mind back and shake it off.
The pain was absolutely soul-rending, and Rey wanted absolutely nothing more than for it to end. She didn’t care that her pendant, her only personal vanity item, had been so callously stolen from her. She didn’t care that her entire life had literally gone up in flames. She wouldn’t care that she would probably never see her family again because there was nothing on Jakku to go back to, nowhere to wait for her family. All that she cared about was wanting the utterly all encompassing pain to end.
She began to try and run away from the pain, trying to find happy places in the corners of her mind to hide in. She remembers when she first found the little tree that she tried to keep alive, to provide her some semblance of companionship in her humble domicile. But the pain found her there, and marred the memory. So she tried to remember the tranquility she felt when she was making her little doll out of scraps of a Rebel Alliance’s pilot uniform. It was mind-numbing work, that, and slow work. Stitching it by hand took many a cycle. She was happy for it at the time, something to think about other than her empty heart and emptier belly. But the pain ruined that for her, too.
So she began to try to fight the pain. She thrashed around in her mind, trying to strike at the nebulous tendrils creeping across her psyche. She tried to grasp at them, throw them away from her. She tried to kick and slash. She tried to imagine hitting them with her quarterstaff. Her quarterstaff. Maybe if she had been better with her quarterstaff, she wouldn’t have been in this predicament to begin with.
From there the cascade of memories through association rushed like a bantha through its pen. From her quarterstaff she remembered her speeder. From her speeder she remembered many cycles, trawling through the desert, trying to find a new salvage site. She remembered a great hulking star destroyer hull that had been picked clean by buzzards like herself. She remembered so many sites, some successful, some not successful. She remembered getting caught in a dust storm one day, trying to find a new one. She remembered taking shelter in some peculiar craft, and finding a pendant that seemed to call to her very essence.
Just as quickly as the pain had encroached on her mind, it receded the same way. The relief she felt was instantaneous, so jarring, that it took her a moment to realise that it had finally ended. When the realisation struck her, suddenly her body seemed to catch up to her mind and she felt pitifully weak. Rey didn’t think that she could lift her arms even if they weren’t bound to her sides on the medbay cot. She couldn’t even loll her head from side to side to try and shake off the groggy feelings.
It was a good thing that her head was already facing the side though, as her stomach gave a great big roll and she retched and heaved and emptied what little contents her stomach had onto the great big black boots that the figure was wearing. Rey didn’t have the energy to smile externally, but she smirked internally with the vindictive satisfaction.
She didn’t know how, but she knew that she had to get off this ship as soon as possible. When the figure stormed off in anger, granting her the reprieve of privacy, she allowed herself to hope in the dark recesses of her mind, that it might even be alive.
finally, the plot thickens! next chapter we'll actually start getting somewhere, I promise!!!
Re: The Final Front Ear Job: 2/??
When Rey next awoke, she was once again bound, but this time she wasn’t held by some nebulous force, and could instead feel the bindings cutting into her wrists and ankles where they were tied too tightly. Subtly, as to not draw attention to the fact that she had awakened, she tried shifting where she was lying down on the medbay cot in a futile attempt to wriggle out of her restraints. It was of no use, however, and Rey barely held onto a cry as she felt her bindings cut into her skin and blood trickle stickily down her arm.
With the pneumatic hiss of the doors, Rey started, completely forgetting about her ruse to feign sleep.
“Good, you are awake,” came the highly modulated voice. Even through the effect that the aspirator of the dark metallic mask had, Rey could still discern a note of unbridled curiosity.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Rey snarked back in response. “This could all be a nightmare.”
For a long moment the figure didn’t respond, and just stood by the medbay entrance appraising her. It dragged on so long that Rey wondered if she hadn’t taken a harder hit to the head than she originally thought, and had made up this new encounter in some sort of stress-induced delusion. Abruptly, the dark figure stormed forward towards her, dark robes billowing behind. They bent over at the waist, dark mask looming right next to her face.
“You know nothing of true nightmares,” hissed the figure menacingly. “But perhaps I could show you.”
“If it’s anything like your fashion sense, I believe you,” deflected Rey, hoping that her voice wasn’t wavering as much as she felt it had.
The figure let out a low growl, which through the voice modulator, came out shrill like the grinding of gears, and the proximity to her ears made her cringe more than the attempt at intimidation. Her flinch seemed to satisfy the figure, however, and they stood back up. This close to her, Rey noted just how tall the figure really was. Their head almost hit the ceiling of the cramped little medbay on whichever shuttlecraft they had her held on.
Suddenly, her pendant was dangling before her, and Rey, forgetting about her predicament, made an instinctual movement to grab it. When the bindings cut further into her flesh, she let out a hiss through her teeth and the figure chuckled low, and derisively. Rey huffed at being the source of amusement for such a… charming person, and turned her to the far wall in an attempt to ignore the figure.
“No,” snapped the figure, and her head snapped with it, facing them of its own accord. Desperately, she tried to turn it back away, but whichever invisible force held her, held her tightly.
“No,” repeated the figure, albeit more softly this time. “This is mine now, but I would have you tell me where you found it.”
“No,” mimicked Rey, refusing to give an inch to this monster who had already taken a mile. Had also probably taken her miles, even light years, away from her home, from everything she had ever known. It was petty of her, but it was the only way that she could assert her agency. She refused to become some snivelling sleemo and lose the last shreds of her dignity on top of everything else that had already been taken from her.
“Tell me—“
“No,” interrupted Rey.”
“Very well, then I shall take it from you.”
Pain. That was Rey’s first thought. Well, reaction, really, as she wasn’t really capable of thought beyond a series of indefinite invectives echoing in her mind in a cacophony of “ow, that hurts” No, perhaps pain wasn’t even the right term to use. It hurt, certainly. But pain seemed like too light a term to use. It went far beyond pain, beyond agony. It was completely and utterly excruciating.
It felt like the time when she accidentally zapped her finger on a live wire when she was stripping down a site, scavenging for parts back on Jakku. Back what felt like a lifetime ago. For all intents and purposes it was, because all this life was was pain. The pain of her entire brain being zapped by live wires. It was constant, with no reprieve. She couldn’t just snatch her mind back and shake it off.
The pain was absolutely soul-rending, and Rey wanted absolutely nothing more than for it to end. She didn’t care that her pendant, her only personal vanity item, had been so callously stolen from her. She didn’t care that her entire life had literally gone up in flames. She wouldn’t care that she would probably never see her family again because there was nothing on Jakku to go back to, nowhere to wait for her family. All that she cared about was wanting the utterly all encompassing pain to end.
She began to try and run away from the pain, trying to find happy places in the corners of her mind to hide in. She remembers when she first found the little tree that she tried to keep alive, to provide her some semblance of companionship in her humble domicile. But the pain found her there, and marred the memory. So she tried to remember the tranquility she felt when she was making her little doll out of scraps of a Rebel Alliance’s pilot uniform. It was mind-numbing work, that, and slow work. Stitching it by hand took many a cycle. She was happy for it at the time, something to think about other than her empty heart and emptier belly. But the pain ruined that for her, too.
So she began to try to fight the pain. She thrashed around in her mind, trying to strike at the nebulous tendrils creeping across her psyche. She tried to grasp at them, throw them away from her. She tried to kick and slash. She tried to imagine hitting them with her quarterstaff. Her quarterstaff. Maybe if she had been better with her quarterstaff, she wouldn’t have been in this predicament to begin with.
From there the cascade of memories through association rushed like a bantha through its pen. From her quarterstaff she remembered her speeder. From her speeder she remembered many cycles, trawling through the desert, trying to find a new salvage site. She remembered a great hulking star destroyer hull that had been picked clean by buzzards like herself. She remembered so many sites, some successful, some not successful. She remembered getting caught in a dust storm one day, trying to find a new one. She remembered taking shelter in some peculiar craft, and finding a pendant that seemed to call to her very essence.
Just as quickly as the pain had encroached on her mind, it receded the same way. The relief she felt was instantaneous, so jarring, that it took her a moment to realise that it had finally ended. When the realisation struck her, suddenly her body seemed to catch up to her mind and she felt pitifully weak. Rey didn’t think that she could lift her arms even if they weren’t bound to her sides on the medbay cot. She couldn’t even loll her head from side to side to try and shake off the groggy feelings.
It was a good thing that her head was already facing the side though, as her stomach gave a great big roll and she retched and heaved and emptied what little contents her stomach had onto the great big black boots that the figure was wearing. Rey didn’t have the energy to smile externally, but she smirked internally with the vindictive satisfaction.
She didn’t know how, but she knew that she had to get off this ship as soon as possible. When the figure stormed off in anger, granting her the reprieve of privacy, she allowed herself to hope in the dark recesses of her mind, that it might even be alive.
finally, the plot thickens! next chapter we'll actually start getting somewhere, I promise!!!