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Jun. 13th, 2005 05:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nitro_is_aceIt happens fast. One moment she's strolling down one of the side streets near Covent Garden, debating popping into a pub for the sheer novelty of ordering food from a person, rather than the actual Bar. The next she's being dragged backwards into a dark alley, one of her attacker's meaty hands over her mouth to keep her from calling for help. Her arms are pinned behind her, effectively keeping her from reaching any of her weapons. So she does the logical thing, biting the thug's hand and mashing the heel of her right boot into his instep. He jerks his hand away and growls in pain.
"HEL..." She's cut off abruptly as the thug mutters something that she knows isn't English, and her air supply cuts off. She tries to pull more air into her lungs, but it's as if she got dropped into a vacuum - there's no air anywhere. Thus she is dragged, unresisting as she chokes, through and abandoned store and into the back room. The room is dimly lit and dusty, but Ace isn't paying attention to any of that. Her vision is greying out, and she's musing, hysterically, that it seems a rather anti-climatic way of dying.
A short figure opposite the chair she is dumped in gestures oddly, and suddenly she can breathe again.
"Thought you could escape me, didn't you, bitch?" Ace recognizes that too-young voice. She goes from frightened to smart-mouthed in under a second.
"Oh sod off." She wheezes. "I did escape, you blithering idiot." The short figure, whom she knows is that git-kid Klarion, gestures again. Something she cannot see slams into her chest, driving all the air out of her lungs again. Distantly she hopes this won't be a long conversation, or she's at risk of dying from asphyxia. She decides to attempt to get him to storm off again - she's got plenty of nitro, so blasting her way out should be no problem.
""Now now." Her captor's voice sing-songs. "I told you. Don't talk to me like that, you stupid mare." Grand. He's being cute. She hates it when they try to be cute. She opens her mouth to retort angrily, and gets slammed again, something she is rapidly losing patience with.
"Now, you may have actually done me a favor." He continues in this pleasant, reasonable tone. She decides she likes this version even less than the homocidal maniac version. Bad things happen when evil gits become reasonable.
"I've realized that holding you prisoner here only gives him an ally if you get loose. I can't have that, now can I? However, if I kill you..." He pauses, and leans forward. He looks much as she imagined he would - very young, very pale... but there's something older in those eyes. "And I would so enjoy killing you, you fucking bitch." Ace swallows a smirk. Ah, there's the maniac she knows and reviles.
"He might just stay in hiding forever. Then of course, in time... possibly a week or two even, he'd forget you. I want this to last." Ace, at this point, is trying very hard to not roll her eyes. Is there a class at supervillian school on how to deliver horrendously bad monologues? She keeps the snarky comments to herself however - she likes being able to breathe.
"So I've devised a new plan, a fail-proof plan, that will bring Timothy Hunter to me, where he will be destroyed. And I will rule London..." Ace cannot take it any longer.
"An' then the world, an' you can subjugate the masses, an' eat dessert b'fore dinner." She smarts off. "Hardly original."
"SILENCE!" It's an impressive shout for someone that young. His voice doesn't even break.
"Hunter may let you keep you around for more than a bit of a poke, but you'll keep quiet here." He growls, standing over her. Or at least, he would be standing over her if he was taller. As it is, Ace is hardly impressed. She rolls her eyes, sheer adrenaline keeping more reasonable fear at bay.
"Does that idea get you off or sommat? You seem rather fixated..." There, that's the trigger. But instead of inspiring him to stomp off like last time, his face contorts in a rage. The surge of power that's slammed into her before hits her again, this time tightening around her like a vise. It seems her luck has run out. As the world fades away, she decides that this, right here, is possibly the second stupidest way to die.
The next sound she hears isn't wings, which she was half-expecting, but the distinctive snick of metal handcuffs. Dazedly she opens her eyes... to see a feline pair staring back at her from inches away. Then the cat leaps away, leaving her to stare up at the ceiling. She's tied down to some sort of table or slab, and the room is almost pitch-black now.
"Y'know..." She comments lightly, while surreptitiously testing the strength of the cuffs pinning her to the table. "This reminds me of some really horrendous spy movie. Are you gonna threaten me now with a phony German accent?" no reply. Someone moves off to her right, but she can't make out any distinguishing features. It's not the git-kid - too tall for that. A match flares in the figure's hands, and she tracks the flame as he lights various candles around the room. She watches warily as several more figures join the first, arranging themselves around the table. Alarms are going off in Ace's head - whatever is going on here cannot be good. However, the restraints are very secure, and she cannot see a way out.
"It is time." Ah, so git-kid is here, after all. She's about to taunt him again when the whole crew starts chanting something unintelligible, Klarion's voice rising over them all.
PAIN
Screaming through her mind, raw agony sears its way across her memories. As it passes, they darken, wither, and fade away. Her own screams threaten to drown out the steady chant.
Claire, offering to let her hold Seth for the first time.
Gone
Alain's flash of a smile as she sketches a rough diagram in the dirt.
Gone
Sara showing her very interesting catalogs while they share a pot of cocoa.
Gone
Yrael lying curled up in kitty-form on the counter, snoozing the afternoon away.
Gone
Charlie playing something soft and sweet on his guitar.
Gone.
Faith pulling some anatomically impossible move up in the rafters, grinning all the while.
Gone
Indy in a toga.
Gone
Mike and Mel, looking entirely too pleased with themselves and each other, over a table-sized pizza.
Gone
Susan, laughing and bright-eyed, as she talks about her horses.
Gone
Ace doesn't know how long the chant continues, how long the unending agony rips her mind apart. Slowly, her time at Milliways fades away. One person she holds onto until the very end.
Tim, smiling brightly at her as they exchange vows.
Gone
And it ends.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ace wakes up under a tall elm tree, with a splitting headache and an extreme sense of disorientation. Where in the heck is she? She looks around dazedly, noting that the sun is just setting in the west, and...
...
Is that Marble Arch?
It is.
She doesn't remember the TARDIS landing in London. When did that happen? And where's the Doctor? She tries to stand, leaning on the tree for support as the world dips and sways. Whatever happened to her, it had been a doozy. While she hates the idea of calling attention to herself while she's unsure of the situation, a hospital sounds like a grand idea right now.
Slowly, staggeringly, she makes her way to the street, and to the door of the nearest shop. Someone inside can call an ambulance. Surely the Doctor will find her there.
She opens the door, and steps inside.
"HEL..." She's cut off abruptly as the thug mutters something that she knows isn't English, and her air supply cuts off. She tries to pull more air into her lungs, but it's as if she got dropped into a vacuum - there's no air anywhere. Thus she is dragged, unresisting as she chokes, through and abandoned store and into the back room. The room is dimly lit and dusty, but Ace isn't paying attention to any of that. Her vision is greying out, and she's musing, hysterically, that it seems a rather anti-climatic way of dying.
A short figure opposite the chair she is dumped in gestures oddly, and suddenly she can breathe again.
"Thought you could escape me, didn't you, bitch?" Ace recognizes that too-young voice. She goes from frightened to smart-mouthed in under a second.
"Oh sod off." She wheezes. "I did escape, you blithering idiot." The short figure, whom she knows is that git-kid Klarion, gestures again. Something she cannot see slams into her chest, driving all the air out of her lungs again. Distantly she hopes this won't be a long conversation, or she's at risk of dying from asphyxia. She decides to attempt to get him to storm off again - she's got plenty of nitro, so blasting her way out should be no problem.
""Now now." Her captor's voice sing-songs. "I told you. Don't talk to me like that, you stupid mare." Grand. He's being cute. She hates it when they try to be cute. She opens her mouth to retort angrily, and gets slammed again, something she is rapidly losing patience with.
"Now, you may have actually done me a favor." He continues in this pleasant, reasonable tone. She decides she likes this version even less than the homocidal maniac version. Bad things happen when evil gits become reasonable.
"I've realized that holding you prisoner here only gives him an ally if you get loose. I can't have that, now can I? However, if I kill you..." He pauses, and leans forward. He looks much as she imagined he would - very young, very pale... but there's something older in those eyes. "And I would so enjoy killing you, you fucking bitch." Ace swallows a smirk. Ah, there's the maniac she knows and reviles.
"He might just stay in hiding forever. Then of course, in time... possibly a week or two even, he'd forget you. I want this to last." Ace, at this point, is trying very hard to not roll her eyes. Is there a class at supervillian school on how to deliver horrendously bad monologues? She keeps the snarky comments to herself however - she likes being able to breathe.
"So I've devised a new plan, a fail-proof plan, that will bring Timothy Hunter to me, where he will be destroyed. And I will rule London..." Ace cannot take it any longer.
"An' then the world, an' you can subjugate the masses, an' eat dessert b'fore dinner." She smarts off. "Hardly original."
"SILENCE!" It's an impressive shout for someone that young. His voice doesn't even break.
"Hunter may let you keep you around for more than a bit of a poke, but you'll keep quiet here." He growls, standing over her. Or at least, he would be standing over her if he was taller. As it is, Ace is hardly impressed. She rolls her eyes, sheer adrenaline keeping more reasonable fear at bay.
"Does that idea get you off or sommat? You seem rather fixated..." There, that's the trigger. But instead of inspiring him to stomp off like last time, his face contorts in a rage. The surge of power that's slammed into her before hits her again, this time tightening around her like a vise. It seems her luck has run out. As the world fades away, she decides that this, right here, is possibly the second stupidest way to die.
The next sound she hears isn't wings, which she was half-expecting, but the distinctive snick of metal handcuffs. Dazedly she opens her eyes... to see a feline pair staring back at her from inches away. Then the cat leaps away, leaving her to stare up at the ceiling. She's tied down to some sort of table or slab, and the room is almost pitch-black now.
"Y'know..." She comments lightly, while surreptitiously testing the strength of the cuffs pinning her to the table. "This reminds me of some really horrendous spy movie. Are you gonna threaten me now with a phony German accent?" no reply. Someone moves off to her right, but she can't make out any distinguishing features. It's not the git-kid - too tall for that. A match flares in the figure's hands, and she tracks the flame as he lights various candles around the room. She watches warily as several more figures join the first, arranging themselves around the table. Alarms are going off in Ace's head - whatever is going on here cannot be good. However, the restraints are very secure, and she cannot see a way out.
"It is time." Ah, so git-kid is here, after all. She's about to taunt him again when the whole crew starts chanting something unintelligible, Klarion's voice rising over them all.
PAIN
Screaming through her mind, raw agony sears its way across her memories. As it passes, they darken, wither, and fade away. Her own screams threaten to drown out the steady chant.
Claire, offering to let her hold Seth for the first time.
Gone
Alain's flash of a smile as she sketches a rough diagram in the dirt.
Gone
Sara showing her very interesting catalogs while they share a pot of cocoa.
Gone
Yrael lying curled up in kitty-form on the counter, snoozing the afternoon away.
Gone
Charlie playing something soft and sweet on his guitar.
Gone.
Faith pulling some anatomically impossible move up in the rafters, grinning all the while.
Gone
Indy in a toga.
Gone
Mike and Mel, looking entirely too pleased with themselves and each other, over a table-sized pizza.
Gone
Susan, laughing and bright-eyed, as she talks about her horses.
Gone
Ace doesn't know how long the chant continues, how long the unending agony rips her mind apart. Slowly, her time at Milliways fades away. One person she holds onto until the very end.
Tim, smiling brightly at her as they exchange vows.
Gone
And it ends.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ace wakes up under a tall elm tree, with a splitting headache and an extreme sense of disorientation. Where in the heck is she? She looks around dazedly, noting that the sun is just setting in the west, and...
...
Is that Marble Arch?
It is.
She doesn't remember the TARDIS landing in London. When did that happen? And where's the Doctor? She tries to stand, leaning on the tree for support as the world dips and sways. Whatever happened to her, it had been a doozy. While she hates the idea of calling attention to herself while she's unsure of the situation, a hospital sounds like a grand idea right now.
Slowly, staggeringly, she makes her way to the street, and to the door of the nearest shop. Someone inside can call an ambulance. Surely the Doctor will find her there.
She opens the door, and steps inside.
