Punishment

[burnburnburn]

Who: Dilandau Albatou, the inhabitants of house 15 and Raphael's indirect influence.
Where: Dilandau's room in House 15
When: Night time of day 81
Warnings: Nightmares containing human experimentation.

When Raphael decides to administer his punishment it doesn't come in the form of a beating. It's more subtle, but far harder to bear. He strikes at Dilandau's weakest time, as he drifts into dreaming about his home.

In Dilandau’s dream he’s in flight, soaring above Gaia’s forest in his guymelef as the two moons shine down upon him. His men are in formation behind him and it’s glorious, the best soldiers in the best technology flying to bring destiny onto its proper pass. Dilandau banks and plummets sharply, hurtling towards a shining lake and whooping at the adrenaline rush.

An eagles plunges down, snatching a fish from the water, and suddenly he can’t stop his fall. The controls are frozen and no matter how much he tugs his limbs he can’t budge them. His men’s screams echo through his ears as he slams into the surface of the lake.

He doesn’t wake up, but now he’s upright in his cockpit again. He can see a sickeningly familiar battlefield through his eyepiece and the screams are getting louder. The Dragon is leaping across the battlefield, finding his men despite their invisibility cloaks and crushing them one after another. However, the screams don’t die out as each man dies, but stretch on, one over the other, so loud that he can’t even hear himself shrieking with them as he realises what a terrible mistake he made when he chose to lead them on this hunt. The chrima his body is immersed in ripples as the fish within it swim around him.

The Dragon finally turns to face him and all the screams peak and cut out. The Dragon steps forward and Dilandau leans back, as if pulling his eye away from the eyepiece will make his enemy disappear. The back of his cockpit is solid against his back until suddenly it’s not and there are hands grabbing him from behind and pulling him out of the equipment. He thrashes and screams, but he can’t break their grip. He’s pulled into the darkness and everything goes black.

He opens his eyes, but not to awakeness. He’s now lying on his back, looking up at the glass tubes of the Fate Alteration Engine as looming figures in black cloaks come nearer, talking indistinctly about particle densities and alteration trajectories. The words don’t make any sense, but the meaning behind them is obvious. They’re ominous, threatening and no matter how loud he screams he can’t drown them out. There’s a flash of fins as a fish swims through the liquid fate bubbling above and one of the cloaked figures plunges a needle into his arm.

He jerks, but doesn’t wake up. There’s a horrible pain in his chest, and now he realises it’s because they’ve decided to try a different tactic. He’s caught in a vice-like machine and Garufo himself is turning the handle, staring at him coldly as the fish swim through the pipes behind him. Dilandau tries to beg for mercy, but he can’t draw his breath because he’s being crushed, just like his boys were in their guymelefs when The Dragon decided to kill them all. This is his punishment for his arrogance and he doesn’t want to deserve it, but his men aren’t coming now matter how he whimpers for them to save him.

He finally manages to draw his breath and screams out their names, finally waking himself up. The pain in his chest doesn't subside, nor does the terror that's making his heart race. He curls up on his belly and tries to draw a large enough breath that he'd be able to stand up and get out of his room. Pride be damned, he can't stand to be alone like this.

Comments

[blackmagus]

"Mm." She bites her lower lip to prevent herself from smiling too much. As she does so, she looks him over — trying not to make it too obvious — to see if he's still shaking. "No, I can't say I see you raising goats, either."

[burnburnburn]

The shaking has finally stilled, but he's still keeping the blanket around him. Nevertheless, his breathing is calmed and he's lost most of that haunted look. He meets her eyes through his hair.

"I'm not about to keel over, if that's what you're checking."

[blackmagus]

Fortescue finds herself relieved to see that he doesn't appear as panicked as he had earlier. Though, she examines that a moment later and feels vaguely annoyed. She should feel relieved that this means that she probably 'gets' to leave soon, shouldn't she? When had she begun to sort of care about a person who called her a whore just for giving him a nickname?

"Good. I'd have to lay you in some sort of embarrassing position when I put you back on the bed," she jokes, but her tone is still fairly gentle.

[burnburnburn]

"It'd be your only chance to lay me in any sort of position." He answers back. There's even a ghost of a smirk to go with the innuendo. It's odd, this little atmosphere that's sprung between them, that means his soul-baring is letting him feel steadier instead of more intensely vulnerable. He never thought she'd have it in her to make him think she might be trustworthy.

He jerks his head over to his pillows.

"You can lie there if you're tired. I'm not going to sleep just yet." There's a tenseness to him as he makes the offer. He doesn't want to have to beg if he doesn't have to.

[blackmagus]

She snorts — it's an amusing quip — and glances back at the pillows, expression neutral. Part of her wants to make a quip about him getting her into bed, because it seems like just the right opportunity, but she holds herself back. They're being civil, for once, and there's no need to sabotage it. It isn't like anyone else is around to raise an eyebrow at them over suddenly not arguing back and forth.

Fortescue can relate to disconcerting nightmares, and not wanting to be alone.

"All ri'," she agrees, yawning, moving back to curl up on her side. "Don't draw any mustaches on me while I'm asleep," she jokes.

[burnburnburn]

He scoots up so that he's sitting with his back against the headboard while she lies down. He's careful to make sure there's a gap between them. There's been enough touching for now.

"If I had a pen you'd have 'Property of Dilandau' on your forehead instead." He finally pulls off the blanket and drapes it over her shoulders and across his lap.

[blackmagus]

Eyes closed, Fortescue chuckles, sleepy now that all of the adrenaline has worn off. Being horizontal helps, as well. She's too tired to notice that it's one of the few genuine chuckles he's managed to stir out of her, but she's appreciative of the blanket.

"You wish." Then, more drowsily, "Sleep better."