{ hyung } Elegant

[cass]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 2D6D86 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark Can't be sure when they've hit their mark, mark And besides in the mean, mean time

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Silence echoed for what seemed like a lifetime, it seeped into you at the first touch and in those few moments it had you completely engulfed. Clutching you and grabbing you into an embrace that you could not escape. I knew the others felt it too, because in the midst of chaos a still calmness had descended, it was always that way. When the chase begun you slipped away, letting the shadows take over, letting the ground stretch beneath your feet in a silent gait that you would hope would take you away. But you always needed that muteness, that calm quiet that edged along your stealth and pushed you forwards. I knew I was good at what I did; I knew that with each step I took there was an eerie, unnatural ability to remain quiet in any situation. I held skill that no one else in the order did. It was the one thing I prided myself on and it was, to say the least, the only reason why I was alive. I was sneaky and cunning and when you are trapped or caught the best way of escape is stealth. I’d practiced since I could walk; I’d used that skill to become a thief, where I had wasted precious years of my life stealing trinkets, coins and jewels that had kept me alive. Now I was part of the big game, the dangerous edge of the blade. It was an unsettling experience to embrace that cold silence. Most people found it frustrating and annoying to the point where they had to flee it, they had to create some kind of noise to counteract that stillness. It was oppressing and controlling and some people can’t face that, but then those are the ones that die.

Those like me embraced it and used it to their advantage. Most people hold the single ironic belief that in silence you can be heard, but it is not so. In silence you fall into a sense of security, letting your mind believe that, but when there is noise it becomes no more than a background sound and you sink into the image of comfort. So when you hear noise you dismiss it, swiping it away from the forefront of your mind and prodding it to the far back where you have placed all of that background noise. Once it becomes that you cannot tell the difference between that pattern of noise and what is truly the sound that you need worry about. It was why you had to stay alert; it was why every sound amongst another had to remain an object. Each one of them was a point of light, shining a different colour, reflecting a different object, person or thing. You couldn’t blend them together to form one noise, that was just silly, and it would get you killed. I’d killed people who had fallen into that trap, they had been so stupid, so irresponsible, trusting the skills they had not honed in on and trained; I’d seen people get killed for stumbling along that road, their throats slit, necks snapped, shot, murdered. It was like walking in total darkness, and then seeing a bit of light far off in the distance, but instead of believing it you then just tell yourself you were only imagining it. So you keep on walking in blind ignorance, unaware of the fact that you are walking closer and closer to your death and then when the cliff comes and you fall and you never knew why, all you know is that you are dead.

Silence was one thing I was comfortably use to, but in the heat of this new predicament the pounding of my heart was too loud and I was certain that everyone else out there, hidden behind the protection of darkness, could hear it too. It was not something I could stop, so instead I aimed on slowing it, pushing the coursing adrenaline through my system faster and forcing my heart to slow to a more regular, silent beat. And still I could feel it echoing in the lone darkness that engulfed the empty streets. Poised with my legs slightly spread and my arms glued to the wall behind me, my dark eyes taken in the street before me. Shadows sat in deep pools at the end of the street. Prior to slipping into the gloom I had made sure to twist around and into a street with a dead light. It held its advantages, but even with my eagle sharp eyes I was finding it difficult to make out any shapes that could be hidden in the dark. It had not been my fault. It really hadn’t, I mean I hadn’t meant to get myself into this situation, you know with a squad of Peacekeeper’s chasing me down. Okay so maybe I had made a mistake, and maybe revealing myself in front of the group of angry looking Peacekeeper’s after calling them names, and slinking around in the inky blackness had not been the smartest idea. But I was bored, I was so bored. Cyanide had refused to let me out on any missions of late, thanks to my little escapade that had gotten me captured and thoroughly tortured, beaten and bashed. He was punishing me and I did not like it. I needed my freedom to be able to help and fight. He was determined to stop me from doing that.

I had to get on the roofs. After being chased through the streets late at night I’d stumbled into a few of the Peacekeeper’s all of whom had tried to get me, I was fast, nimble and agile. I was not strong and even though I could throw a punch my skill came with my ability to move. I knew how the district worked, I knew every street and turn and what was more as soon as I climbed up and onto the roofs of the endless amount of houses and buildings within the districts I was untouchable. That was my domain. That was my home and when I was there no one could catch me. There was just the small matter of getting up there. It would be simple to simply step into the street, turn around and climb the wall, except for one problem. The street I was in was the only street, with the only house that had walls that were basically unclimbable. For an experienced and skilled climber like myself that had been a hard thing to admit to. Right now I found myself biting nervously at my lip, my hands having left the wall, know lay in front of me as I wrung them together nervously. The longer I stayed put the more chance of getting caught. I just needed to get on the roof. I’d be safe there. As always I was bare foot. Shoes were of no use, when you needed to climb or run and leap you needed to go barefoot. Some people believed that was just folly, but when you danced on these roofs, on houses that were so fragile that stepping in one wrong spot could cause you your life? No you had to do it properly.

Taking one more nervous look behind me I dash into the open street, my movements abnormally silent. I push myself against the next wall. Everything was silent as though the world was holding its breathe and waiting for me to make a wrong move. Pleased that I could see no one in front of me I move, covering the short distance of open ground in a matter of seconds. Then the silence was shattered. That fragile wall collapsed and as the first shout rose into the cool crisp air I was off, not even thinking, and leaving my carefully honed instincts to lead me I ran. I took a brief moment to glimpse the world behind me and to my horror there was three Peacekeeper’s chasing me. The horror only clung to me for a delicate instant, before I shoved it away. I was faster. I was built for speed. Rounding the next corner, I made another quick left, then a right, before aiming simply for the left turns. After three more turns I was back at an intersection I had passed not even a minute ago. Looking around I spotted what I needed. A small bin. Running at full pelt I sprinted towards it. As I reached it I leapt on top of it, only the faintest sound ringing out in the night that was now splattered by the ugly sounds of yelling men. Leaping nimbly upwards I grab the ledge of the roof, cart-wheeling my body sideways I slide forwards. Lying down I press myself into the brittle roof tiles, hoping that they would not see me. Sub-consciously one of my hands reaches across to gently rub the mass of scars that had embedded themselves in my back. Last time I’d been caught I’d been whipped. I did not want to feel that pain again.

I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart
I'm in the de-details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my level
I just gotta get you out of the cage
I'm a young lover's rage

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[gamemaker kelsier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: DEF895 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] Like a jury needs a liar Like a riot Don't need order Like a madman Needs a martyr With only the softest senses of purpose, Saturn made his way through the hideout, the stillness in this section throwing him off. It was the middle of night, either Killjoys were sleeping, or they were out doing things that were never altogether legal. A few were holed up in the command room, where he should be now too, but he'd made some excuse, probably about having to use the facilities. I sort of do actually. He was dressed to go do something illegal as well, eye patch in place, those trademark pink, spiked gloves, and that black leather jacket, with the star on the back. In fact, the direction he was heading wasn't the way out. Oh yeah, there were holes everywhere to squirm out of, but it didn't change the fact that he was heading the wrong way.He walked slowly down the hall, feet seeming to come together and apart where his left toes kissed his right heel. It's not like I care or anything. He certainly did not care about the dumb kid that got himself taken again and again. He certainly did not care that this time when he'd come back, Saturn had barely recognized him for the beating they'd given. It really didn't make his fists clench in anger at just the thought of it either. I've made people look worse. Stopping in front of a crudely made door, he brought his hand up to eye level and slowly loosened each finger, trying to discern what the tightness had meant. The only reason he cared at all was because the kid was one of his soldiers, and he needed all of them in working order. Not all bent out of shape like that. It made him angry because they'd taken one of his things and touched it, breaking one of his rules. It's not like I'm actually worried about the guy or anything like that. After a moment, a smirk transformed his features, smoothing his brow, and with a nod, he turned to the wall, and gave it a soft knock. "Hey Kid, you awake?" he asked softly, "I just...uh....wanted to see if you...if you needed anything." Weak, that came out weak. He hadn't had a reason, he should have just stayed with the first bit. Cringing internally from how stupid that had sounded, he pushed aside the door, and scanned the room. The bed was unmade, there were clothes haphazardly tossed on a chair, and there was no sign of Opius. Closing the door again quietly, he stood in the hall for a few moments thinking over the options here. Inwardly, something was rising in his chest, it made him feel squeamish and not altogether good. The kid had just gotten free, and he was already out again, barely any healing time in. If he got caught again, would he be able to take it? Seeming to reach a decision, Saturn went from zero to top speed in barely anytime at all, a grim expression of determination on his face. "I will definitely kill him," he confirmed as he ran out into the streets. As he ran, he could feel the wind in his ears, and the pavement under his feet. That was when he felt best, when the world was running with him. It's when he stood out a lot too, when people began to realize that maybe the kids running along behind him would be a problem. When they saw Jet Star at the front of a group, that's when they knew to run too, yeah, in the opposite direction. Right now, there was no one behind him but ghosts. No one in front of him, but men who would soon be ghosts. In the darkness he was taller, scarier, like a vengeful god running through streets that he knew belonged solely to him. He could feel the city's heartbeat coursing through him like a drum beat. If the District was a song, the people were the melody, and the Killjoys the bass line that kept it going. He was the bridge that linked the two together. Saturn was the show, the one the orphans recognized, and the widowed mothers called their son. This made him untouchable in the fact that he belonged to no one, and no one, in turn, belonged to him. He didn't need to know where to go, because his feet took him there, the twinging of a wrong string in the melody taking Saturn exactly where he needed to be. He didn't know what to say or think, because something boiled in him, and all he felt was a panic. Like, something was flying in the wind out of his reach and this time he might not be tall enough to get it. He didn't care about anyone, not even his soldiers. He cared that they were in working condition, and that was all. He didn't care about that girls' sob story, or that boy's addictions. He didn't care about any of them, and no one could ever prove that maybe he just might. The Warden never garnered respect by being loving. No, the Warden demanded respect with lashes and the weekly fight rings that each boy had to participate in. Even though the scars on his back hurt, and the memories of blood under his fists were painful, he hadn't ever forgotten how much respect he held. You had to respect power, and those with it. Unless, you know, it's a fucking Draculoid. Then to hell with them. So Saturn demanded respect, didn't call for it affectionately. Although he'd never hurt his own soldiers, that was stupid, he wasn't their friend. There was shouting coming, just around the corner. Without a doubt in his mind, Saturn knew that it was for one Kobra Kid. "...tch..." Speeding up, he rounded the corner and without slowing down leaped at the closest body. He shoved his foot into the back of one of the men, and they obviously weren't expecting an appearance from one Jet Star, because their reactions were far too slow. Standing on the guy's back, a woman rounded on him, attractive enough but too draculoid to bang. A guy held back, looking him up and down. Saturn, for his part, ground his heel into the back of the person he stood on, producing a rather satisfying groan of pain. His voice mild, yet holding about two tons of weight, he asked, "Can I help you, Dracs?" In response, the woman threw her fist at his face and he ducked, nimbly dancing away from her flying feet. That signature manic smile pulling at his lips, Saturn glanced up at the roofs, where he knew Opius was sure to be. Cocking his head slightly, he signaled for the kid to get away, he was in no condition at all to fight, and Saturn didn't feel like having to watch out for him in one. He caught the woman's fist in one hand, and pushed his own fist into her stomach with the other. "You think just because you're here, we'll forget about the little rat up in the gutter?" The man's voice was soft, barely audible really, but at the same time he seemed to be standing right beside Saturn, whispering in his ear. Contemplating this, Saturn stepped into the shadows again, the woman he was fighting doubled over, trying to catch her breath. "I was hoping so, yeah. I mean, I'm a guy who requires a lot of immediate attention," he finally replied, circling back behind him. The man, for his part, stayed still. Saturn didn't know if this was because he knew where Saturn was, or if he didn't. Annoyed, he glanced up to where the kid probably still was. He never listened to a thing anyone told him to do, which pissed Saturn off. There was a blue gun in the holster on his thigh, one he'd found in an old abandoned shop, grown dusty with age. Aleph had seen it and laughed, said it wasn't worth the effort it would take to clean it up. Saturn had never found a gun that shot better. Right now, his fingers were reaching towards it. All he wanted to do was take out a leg or two, nothing major. Killing could always come later. "See, Jet Star, I know that his tongue belongs to us, just because boss can't prove it, doesn't mean it doesn't. I plan to take it." A vicious snarl erupted from Saturn's lips, and he was surprised to find that age old anger boiling up at a time like this. He really hated guys like this, who thought they were entitled to take whatever they pleased just because they thought they were stronger. That was another thing you had to have to gain respect, wisdom. Saturn didn't really have a lot of that. For example, he didn't know how many guys this asshat had waiting in the wings. It didn't even seem to matter to him as he rushed out of the shadows, fist aimed right at the guy's stupid face. "KID, RUN."

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[cass]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 2D6D86 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark Can't be sure when they've hit their mark, mark And besides in the mean, mean time

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I could handle it. I knew what I was doing, and yet the echoing sound of running feet made me ever more nervous. I pushed myself up and onto my feet, sliding down and further into the roof, trying to remain hidden. My hand slides over my left side, resting on the hilt of the small knife that lay there. Normally there would be a pistol in its place, but on small little games like this one I generally took nothing. And yet I found myself in more than a little game. No this had turned into a full on struggle, something I had hoped would not happen. Yes, this was definitely something I had hoped to avoid happening. All I had wanted to do was simply tease and pull on the Peacekeeper’s legs, I had not meant to actually get seen, although that had been my fault, I seriously still cannot fathom what I was thinking when I sprung out right in front of them. I felt like a right idiot having shown myself, it was something I normally never would have done, and yet I’d done it. Sighing I shove those thoughts from my mind, that was not going to help me get out of this little predicament. At that thought I couldn’t stop the smirk that cross my lips, I was, past all that nervousness very excited. This was what I was born to do and weaving in and out of trouble was all I wanted to do with my life. I’m good at it, better than all the rest of them.

I mean being caught is just the down side to it; those few times had been my own mistake. You know, going too far into the danger, strolling into the midst of the enemy and such. There was that one time I had snuck right into the Draculoid headquarters. I’d gotten as far as getting right into their files, and I’d actually even made it out of the entire place. I’d run like fucking hell to get away, I’d dumped the files, knowing that I would go back for them the next day once I knew I was completely clear of getting caught. I’d been walking home when I was surrounded by a group of four of them. If I had of been on the roofs or in a larger area I would have run, but being in the middle of a tight alley way, with both ends blocked makes it kind of hard. I did, however, fight them. There was no way in hell I was going down without a fight. At the time I had believed that they were simply going to kill me, but as they rushed at me all of them grabbed their Tasers, I had missed the first two, but the last two bit into my skin and before I knew it I had collapsed and within a few seconds handcuffed and blinded. And yet through all of that experience it had not been the worst. I’d been tortured, bashed and beaten for a week straight before I was rescued. I was branded, whipped and burned, fingers broken and one of my teeth was even ripped from my mouth, but I said not one thing.

I screamed, I screamed like hell. I cried. I did. I spent one whole day completely sobbing, hands chained, feet tied, blindfolded, the taste of my own blood filling my mouth. The burning feeling of pain filled wounds causing me to sob and choke and cough and scream as the pain turned into white hot agony. I never told any of them any of that. When I was finally recused I knew they had seen the injuries, but I never said a word of them, I hid them beneath a cocky grin, bright eyes and a smirk. Yet sometimes I wonder if they hear me scream at night. Sometimes I wonder if it wakes them up, because no matter what they all say. No matter what I say those kind of things leave scars, and they have been branded into my mind. Whenever I look down at my hands I see the three fingers that seemed crooked compared to the rest. Whenever I look down at my chest or legs I see the small markings, the brands and the burns. When I run my tongue over my teeth I feel that hole in my mouth, when I look in the mirror I see a scarred boy just trying to look brave. I’m not. Father – before I left – once told me that a brave man is only ever brave when he is scared. I’ve come to believe that. I’m not brave or strong unless I force myself to be. When I’m in a dark wet cell, or chained to a wall I’m scared. I show them otherwise, but I’m shaking, I fear what will happen to me. I’m scared that one day I won’t get away and I will die.

But it won’t stop me. I’ll keep on fighting.

I could hear them now. There shouting crashing through that pristine peace. With a deep breath I force myself upwards, to look over the edge of the roof. There was a small group of them eyeing the area around them. I knew they knew where I was. They knew who I was. Kobra Kid. Knowing who I was meant that they would have been filled on who the little rat that slipped across the roofs was, and I was right there above them. They’d look up here soon and by then I’d hopefully be gone. A queer sense of calmness had settled over me, being on the roofs meant I was safe. Being up here meant no one could touch me and I’d be able to get away with ease. I no longer had to fear for my life, much. I mean they could shoot me down, but they would have a very hard time with it, so apart from that I was pretty much on the long run home. Easy. That is what this was, just easy. Grinning I move backwards, deeper into the protection of the roof, the shouts of the enraged Peacekeeper’s only making my grin widen. Then I froze. "Can I help you, Dracs?" Raising my eyebrows in disbelief I scuttle forwards. Peering over the edge I see a sight I had not wanted to see. It made my stomach clench. “Oh Ripred.” I mutter, as I take in the scene before me.

Saturn – Jet Star – leaps into view, a maniacal smile stuck to his lips. I cringe as he moves into position, whacking at the first Peacekeeper he sees. Oh Ripred this was getting bad. With Saturn in the picture I could no longer just slide away and pretend this had never happened. With Saturn in the picture I had to stay, because he might be the big tough guy, the one with all the skills and basically the leader of the group, but he could not take on three armed Peacekeeper’s that attacked him all at the same time. No, that was impossible even for the wonderful perfect Saturn. "You think just because you're here, we'll forget about the little rat up in the gutter?" I scowl. I did not like being called a rat. I was better than a rat and, and I was way quieter than a rat! That was offensive to my skills. Now officially annoyed I pull myself all the way forwards, my weight resting on my arms. Saturn throws me an angry look as if his being here was my fault. No it was not! I throw him a cold glare, refusing to bite back with all my might at that accusation. He had made the choice to leap to my rescue. I did not even need rescuing. I was just about to leave when he sauntered in. Ripred sometimes he was annoying.

"I was hoping so, yeah. I mean, I'm a guy who requires a lot of immediate attention," Saturn replied. "See, Jet Star, I know that his tongue belongs to us, just because boss can't prove it, doesn't mean it doesn't. I plan to take it." Oh great. This was just getting better by the second. I force back a sigh as Saturn snarls, and leaps forward. "KID, RUN." Rolling my eyes I leap forwards, as I spring into the air my hand reaches downwards and I draw my blade. “Nahhh, I’d prefer to stay.” I reply crisply, refusing to make eye contact with him. The cool rush of air feels refreshing; with a grunt I land squarely on the shoulders of the young male Peacekeeper that Saturn had yet to hit. His legs collapse from underneath him at the sudden and abrupt weight of another person on his back. As his body collides with the cold ground I spring forwards, using my momentum to leap high and land on my feet less than a metre away from him. Spinning around I turn to face the female and the other guy. ”If you want my tongue so badly come and get it.” I call, I stick my tongue out in the air, begging them to just try and take it from me.

I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart
I'm in the de-details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my level
I just gotta get you out of the cage
I'm a young lover's rage

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[gamemaker kelsier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: DEF895 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] The beast will crawl this earth Then fall in the dirt to feed the crows They'll rip apart his flesh 'Till all that's left is glorious bone I bet your mother would be proud of you There is a turbulence beneath his chest, a force of motion that seems to scream at him, wild beneath the night sky. His fist, previously heading for the man, continues onward, searching for flesh to bruise. His knuckles connect with the cheekbone of a man emerged from an alley, and the shock dances away from his fist, up his arm in a tingling arc. He moves without thinking, limbs going where they should by muscle memory. In fact, he's an empty shell, devoid of a soul, run completely by strings and a script. He reaches into his jacket, hand flipping out a knife as he kicks the man into submission. Bringing the blade down in a sweeping arc, Saturn stabbed it into the man's leg, working it into the back of his kneecap. Blood sprayed him, and he smiled at the screaming, even as a weird sense of deja-vu overtook him. (He was ten, and the cage was closed, and the boy across from him was crying and they were only ten, and saturn had a knife, and he had a knife and the other boy didn't and there was that tender spot in behind the kneecap and the warden was staring at him, eyes level through the chain link fence and saturn lunged.) He kicked someone's side, felt their breath leave them as they fell. It was an energy wrapping it's self around his torso, pulling him forward and he was helpless to it's gravity. The taste of violence soured his breath, made each mouthful of air sweeter. Tumbling forward, he caught himself on his hands with a roll, barely avoiding a swing from a bat. Bats. They hurt. Avoid at all costs. He'd broken his arm once from a bat and a rookie mistake in the ring. It had healed weird, he still had a scar from it too. He bet if the Doc had been there, he'd have been good as new. Of course, he'd also learned early on that no one would be there. If I'm caught and there's no hope, there really is none. He was easily replaceable. If he was taken, they could have his tongue, no one would be the worse for wear. No one is going to save me. It's what gave him his edge, what made him so fearsome when he fought. I just don't give a damn. He didn't care what he did to the other guy, because for him, there was no other guy. Just an enemy, there was no worry, he hadn't ever learned that, no one had taught him. No one had ever told him to not hurt others because it wasn't nice. He'd learned the opposite. They only taught me to hurt them before they did me. They'd taught him cruelty. It suited him too, it really did. He didn't have to pretend to be anything other than what he was, an uncaring mass of flying fists and tactless words. This is where he was meant to be, men behind him and in front of him, woman reaching into their boots to stab him with the sharpness released from leather. To be alone in a mass of bodies all bent on his destruction, to know that they could very well do so. Take his tongue, toss him in a cell and cut him open from the inside out. I'd like to see them try. Anger surges through him, in it's usual manner, but now it's worse. It's worse because all he can think about is that asshole's words. That and them mixing with the night Saturn finally found his soldier, chained up and bleeding out. How the anger had burned him so thickly that he could barely even see from it all. How he'd pulled at the chains, so hard that his palms had bled, staining the metal links even darker. That night, it had taken him, had kicked a dent in a metal door, had lit a building on fire, so the world could rage with it. How he'd carried his soldier to the Doc and she'd even looked worried, that was wrong. I thought he was dead in my arms. There was blood and dirt all over him, and he'd never felt such long contact in his life, but he hadn't even thought about lifting his soldier out of there. He'd heard screaming too, when he'd sat a careful watch outside his soldier's door. No one could touch him so deep in the territory of the Killjoys', but that hadn't even seemed to matter at the time. The screaming kept me awake. that had been a nuisance. It had been an important one though, that he had to listen to, because he had let that screaming go on for a straight week where he couldn't hear. He hadn't found him in time to save him from hundreds of small cruelties etched upon his skin for eternity now. Why is that on me. He couldn't rightly say why he seemed to put so much responsibility on himself for that, but he did. Maybe it was because he knew what it was like to taste a whip across the skin and to cry yourself to sleep at night, although empathy was a gift he'd always deny, his face a neutral mask to the world. Saturn rolled his eyes in annoyance at the Kid's direct disobedience. He knew this wasn't exactly a hierarchy, but the Killjoy's asked how high when Saturn asked them to jump, and as one of the commanders, it was taboo not to listen to him. The kid did what he liked, he had since he got to the Killjoys, and Saturn never expected anything less. Still, he wished he could trust him to do as he was told just once, without Saturn having to kick his ass first. It's as pointless as telling a raccoon to tap dance. Still, he was kind of happy to have someone watching his back, especially since yet another guy just went flying into Saturn's kick. Oops. The guy the kid had so graciously used as a balance board was back up and at 'em, rushing at the Kid's obvious taunt. Saturn, for his part, tackled him to the ground with a flying leap. He tasted asphalt, and scraped his elbow, but it wasn't that bad a sting in comparison to what the prick he landed on got. Resting there, he pressed his elbow into the guy's back, and pulled his gun from the holster, holding it to the guy's head. Calm as a stream, he raised his head from the struggling body beneath him, and stared straight into the eyes of a Draculoid only ten feet away. Softly, he gave them an ultimatum, "You assholes don't shove off, I'll shoot this guy right through his thick skull." They stared at him, contemplating his offer. He was bluffing, of course he was, right? He could see the question of it in their eyes. Grin never having left his face, he felt it widen. If he killed this man beneath him here, there were at least five witnesses. They would have him, legally too, and there wouldn't be any making it out of that alive, tongue intact. This was the offer he always gave. The one he was known for. Yeah, once or twice he'd had to pull the trigger just because if he never shot anybody, they'd forget to respect him because they'd forget to fear him. Blood had spattered, and a heartbeat had stopped because of him, but it had never really bothered him, taking the life of a Draculoid. Taking a life hadn't bothered him since he was thirteen years old and they'd put him in the ring with his best friend and one bullet. I'm friends with Death. he courted Death. No, he could do it easily, and they had to know it. He could kill without batting an eye. He'd kill for a soldier too, for a kid in way over his head who didn't know what the hell he thought he was doing. To protect his soldier's tongue's, he'd kill again and again. This time, he didn't have to. Slowly, they all nodded and seemed to slink off into the shadows one by one. The guy with the ruined kneecap got a little help from one of the girls. Saturn decided they'd make a nice couple. He waited in silence, daring anyone to speak. The quiet dragged on as he waited fro the rest of them to go a suitable distance. After a few moments, he pulled himself up, keeping the gun on the guy the entire time. Free at last, the guy seemed to finally find his voice. "You're really going to regret that, Killjoy. Your final day is coming." In response, he smirked and shot a bullet straight past the guy's ear, sending him off into the night. Silently, he inspected a cut on his right thigh, pressing a finger to it despite the pain to see how deep it went. Mmmmm, shallow. Carefully, he placed the gun back into it's holster, and slid his knife back into his jacket. The night was silent again. He hadn't actually had to shoot anybody, and that was always an okay thing. Just because he could kill a guy didn't mean he really had to. Yet, the rage lay there, ready to pounce again. He needed to be alone, to work through it, to destroy. He needed his punching bag, but that was at home. For all the calm that tried to rule him, his breaths came short and heavy, his fists curled tight. Rounding on Opius, his voice came out cold and smooth, liquid nitrogen icing up the night. "What the fuck do you think you're doing. Who the hell do you think you are to do something so....so...annoying, so stupid," he stated, less than questioned

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[cass]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 2D6D86 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark Can't be sure when they've hit their mark, mark And besides in the mean, mean time

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When I look upwards once more I see chaos, it has surrounded me and it echoes through the night air. When I look upwards – I dare to gaze away from the enemy in front of me – I see the night, I see the darkness as it expands across a sky that is so polluted and cut off from the rest of the world that not even the stars show. I want to see the stars. Some nights I climb the tallest buildings in the district, clinging, with batter bruised hands to the thinnest of ledges, or the smallest of hand holds and foot holds, where one small breeze could send me tumbling. And all I do is look upwards. I turn my head towards the sky, my messy black hair, blowing in the surprisingly warm breeze that billows against you from those heights. Normally I’ll see nothing, those filthy streaks of light, flashing into the near darkness, and illuminating the sky, so that when I should see tiny specks of light to help guide me all I see is the gloom, an inky substance leaking across the sky and fading into the horizon. Once I use to believe that they did not exist and that in all those stories that my parents have told me they were no more than a lie. A fabrication of lies weaved into those stories. Mother and father use to try and make me believe that they were there, but I soon swayed them to think otherwise.

The stars fascinated me; they made me anxious in a way I could not fathom. They were like some far off, long lost world that I could not reach, nor could I see. It was as though to see them you had to believe in them. To find them you had to look for them, but they remained hidden from me. It was the very stars that gave me my passion to climb. If I had not evolved such a needy greed to touch them and grab them I would never have started climbing and I would never have become the skilled boy I am now. I began to climb when I was seven, racing up the roofs, the fences and the tallest buildings of the district. I would have used trees, but in district three there are little to none of them, the district seems bent on destroying the environment, rather than conserving it. I used the stars as a reward. The higher I climbed the better to see them and so I pushed myself, climbing and scaling the tallest buildings, the most perilous walls and fences, just to prove to myself that they were there. I’d fallen half a dozen times; I’d broken legs and arms, toes and fingers. I’d cut myself and hurt myself, but I loved it. It was like that thrill, that craze that Saturn held when he fought, when he struck out at his victims. I felt that way when I climbed: unstoppable. And when I saw them all I could do was watch. Because they were beautiful, they were real and they were right there, just as I had been told.

They became something of a point of light – as crazy as that sounds, seeing as they are tiny little points of light in the sky, because that was exactly what they were – that kept me going when I needed it to. I don’t know why and I’m not even sure if I could ever explain why, but the hundreds few times I have been captured and I’m almost at breaking point I’ll think of them. I’ll think of those little points of light in the sky that had seemed to evade me for so many years of my life and suddenly turned up, because they were real. They were something I did not stop searching for, I went to the extreme to catch a glimpse and they gave me an odd sense of hope, that maybe someone was going to come and that maybe one of them, anyone, just someone would come by and save me. Pulling me from the ropes, chains and blood. All I had were the stars to cling to in those times and so I clung to them, remember what it was like to look up into the sky and see them, remember what it was like to climb bare foot along the roof, pulling myself higher and higher just to catch a little glimpse. They were freedom and freedom was what I wanted on those times of need. As long as I hoped for it and held it I would get it.

Focusing my gaze back on the situation in front of me I dance a few steps backwards as the female takes her attention away from Saturn and turns to me. I smirk. Her face is contorted in an amusing snarl that only makes me raise an eyebrow. I assume she was trying to look threatening, but to me it just held a comical edge and it took effort to hold back a snort of laughter. As she lunged I nimbly side-stepped her open embrace. Her hands tried to get a grasp on me, but as soon as she had stumbled past my leg shot out, catching her right in the chest. I quickly followed up with a sharp undercut of my left fist, driving it into her arching stomach. She stumbled more, slipping to the ground gasping for some air, air that I already knew would not come. Simple and effective. After the two kicks, it would leave her lungs in a state of panic where the air would go into her mouth, but as she pushed it down to breathe it would refuse to go. The woman was not so easily downed. She came up and at me again, with that same maniacal grin that was so familiar to me, that was normally plastered onto Saturn’s face. Although, I had to admit, it looked a lot more intimidating on his face then it did on hers. Rolling my eyes I charge at her. This time we collide together, her momentum takes us down onto the ground. She was heavier then I was and a lot stronger then I had thought she would be.

With a grunt I shove an elbow into her jaw. She retaliates with a fist to my face. That was not very nice. My smirk falters, twisting into more of a snarl as I thrust with all my weight to dislodge her from my back. Her left arm slides out from underneath her and in those few seconds my own hand snakes downwards and I grasp the knife that had slipped from my hands as we had tumbled to the ground. That was unforgivable and a bad mistake on my behalf. Drawing it up as fast as I can I plunge it into her right arm. She lets out a startled yelp of pain, and instinctively reaches up to grasp at the knew wound. As she pulls her weight away from me I get a leg under her chest and shove her away, throwing all of my weight into the movement. She tumbles from my chest and lands on her side beside me. "You assholes don't shove off, I'll shoot this guy right through his thick skull." My eyes flicker away from the form of the woman and turn to face Saturn. I get up and onto my feet, my eyes widening if only slightly at the new scene before me. Saturn did not look at me, but I already knew he was thoroughly pissed off. I’d ignored a direct order from him, an order that had basically come from the leader of our group, but then he should expect no different. I don’t listen to orders.

I’m reckless and in that way slightly unreliable. It is why I get caught, it is why I get hurt, it is why I am in the situation I am in right now. All because I could not sit back at the headquarters, all because I was bored and needed to do something. Cyanide had told me to stay. Cyanide had been explicit in his orders for me to remain in my room for just two more days. Then he would let me back on missions, but over a week of nothing? No. I could not do that. I was incapable of sitting back and relaxing and letting everyone else do the work. I might be disobedient, annoying and sometimes a little bit stupid, well maybe very, but I wanted to help. I wanted to be part of the time. I did not care if that meant listening and obeying orders. I look at the weapon pressed into the man’s skull, my eyes taking it all in, but I felt nothing for him. I felt nothing for the man before me that could possibly end up dead within seconds. He would deserve whatever Saturn dished out to him and I would not even blink an eye. The tension seemed to grow and I turned my attention to the other Peacekeeper’s that stood, staring contemplating the truth behind his words. I knew Saturn meant it, I’d seen him kill before, and he would do it if he had to.

Slowly one by one they nodded. Saturn seeing this let the other guy up. One of them seemed to need the help of the female Peacekeeper and I watched emotionless as the slipped off and into the shadows. Then it was just the guy that Saturn had the gun aimed at. "You're really going to regret that, Killjoy. Your final day is coming." Saturn fired, the bullet skimming past the Peacekeeper’s head. That wiped the smile from his ugly face. Then Saturn was facing me. I drew myself up to my full height, willing myself not to be intimidated by those cold eyes. He wasn’t really that scary. Just big and bulky, I was sure that beneath it all he was a big old softy. Maybe. "What the fuck do you think you're doing. Who the hell do you think you are to do something so....so...annoying, so stupid."

Okay so maybe saying sorry, or I didn’t mean it would be the right thing to say right now, but no way in hell was I going to let Saturn get away with calling me stupid and annoying. “Woah, calm down. No need to get your nickers in a knot. I mean from what you are saying they obviously are and someone has just kicked that knot right up your crack! So loosen it up, pull it free. I mean take a step back, have a chill pill and look at what we have here. You were the one that came running into a situation that was completely and totally in control.” I’m scowling at him, my arms drawn up defensively across my chest. "You came strutting in just as I was about to leave." I look at him defiantly, my eyes flashing stubbornly. I was not going to back down in this argument, he was in the wrong here not me.

I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart
I'm in the de-details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my level
I just gotta get you out of the cage
I'm a young lover's rage

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[gamemaker kelsier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, border: DEF895 solid 2px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px 0px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1e; border: DEF895 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 43px 43px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true] erasmus saturn

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Worlds were formed under his skin, molten rock cracking, forming, splitting to create monuments of nature for races to bow down to. Stars grew, formed, died in seconds under the heat of his anger, civilizations grew and died in the dust of the natural disaster known as Saturn's rage. He could feel it there beneath his bones, hidden reserves of power that made his nails bite into his skin, leaving half moon crescents of angry red life. Why does he make me like this. Everytime Opius opened his mouth, Saturn wanted to hit something, whenever anything happened, Saturn wanted to hit something. Everything that happened in this kid's universe directly effected him. The reason he was out right now, bleeding slowly from his thigh, a scrape on his elbow was because this idiot had put himself in harm's way, which incited the second question: Why do I care so goddamned much?

He prowled the little open space, knuckles dragging along the brick wall, scarping away the skin there. He barely noticed, teeth clenched, face a mask of calm. He could hear his heart, thumping away, overpowering any other sound the night made. It is agony. To feel so much hate, to hold it wrapped up inside him, the only thing nurtured. He had learned hatred first, and it had been his constant companion. He'd never had a stuffed dog, or a toy truck. His imaginary friend was cruel and never just. He'd been raised by spite and envy, been punished by vengeance every day since he could remember. He had always been a plaything to his emotions, they chewed him up and spat him out like he was nothing, collateral damage. He felt disconnected to everyone, and even when anyone had ever shown interest in discovering him, he had pulled away, afraid for what they might find.

He was a man ruled by his emotions, who tried so dearly to hide them, and yet, this kid, Opius, brought out the very worst of them. It wasn't always his fault maybe, but Saturn could certainly blame him. He wouldn't have had to feel the hatred gnawing on his heels, if he hadn't had to lift the boy's weakened body, taking him away from that particular center. His vengeance wouldn't have lit the place on fire with that bottle of gasoline. My cruelty wouldn't have shot the guard right between his eyebrows. With every passing second, volcanoes erupted and tectonic plates split underneath his sternum, he was tearing apart at the seams, his knuckles raw and bloody. Anger nearly bowled him over, and yet he couldn't form a sentence to explain this emotion, could barely find coherence to think. His mind still rolled over the fact that if he'd pulled a little to the left just now, he could have shot that man in the face. Maybe, a slight chance for a day or two he'd be a little upset, but his face would sink into the rest of them, and slowly he would become just another body that Saturn dropped on a whim.

He was coming apart, and Opius didn't even understand that he was half his battle. Everything he did as of late was as a direct result of him. Why was he leading a group on a stealth mission tomorrow night? Vengeance for the scars. Opius was the first person who'd ever directly meant anything to Saturn's way of life, and he could barely keep him alive long enough to try and articulate this. No, I really don't care. Saturn had learned not to care. He couldn't care, not when everything he ever had was either taken or left him by choice. They always left and caring for someone meant that you hoped they'd be there when you needed them. They won't be. They weren't, they never were, and Opius was so fickle Saturn couldn't even trust him to safely tie his shoes these days. If Saturn wanted a confidant, he could find one in his bootstraps, or in the brick of the walls, or his mattress took sound well. It wasn't for him to just share this anger with them all, it was his to covet, his to keep. His broken bird to cry over.

And he'd never even wanted to care for someone, not that I do. He'd never wanted to have to experience any emotion again, he'd chosen not too. There was a choice, and he took the right one. To feel pain is an agony, and it's intensified knowing for a fact that nobody cared. To have someone tell you it, it makes it real. Saturn had been told before of course, by so many people. In the darkness of solitary confinement in the orphanage, whispered through sliming lips behind the door. He'd been told by the men who'd wanted to beat him bloody hundreds of times. He'd been told by his parents when they left him alone. He knew it, and to be told it was pain, to have your caring spit back in your face, it hurt. Why should I have to be annoyed.

Finishing up with the wall, Saturn stood still for a moment, knuckles silently oozing blood and grit in the deafening loudness of Opius' defiance. Turning slowly, he gave Opius a look of such icy indifference it could be colder than freezing. Almost feline-like in manor, he stalked up to the kid, moving in on his person space so much, if he even lifted a finger, he would be touching him. He hated that, physical contact unless it was necessary. Yet another thing to be annoyed about, I've felt his skin too many times. He hated most things, and he could find his annoyance level for this cocky little thing rising each and every moment. It was one thing to not listen to rules, it was another to not even appreciate getting your ass rescued. He wanted to say all these things, to tell him what he felt, to be a human being. Opius, wasn't the guy for that. Opius was a boy made for rooftops and stars. Saturn belonged in blood and darkness. He could never begin to understand.

So Saturn switched off again. He tightened, felt the blood loosen as he did so, felt his heartbeat slow down. He wouldn't bother. It wasn't worth it to argue. It wasn't worth anything, nothing was. Best to just head home and let him fend for himself then, if he was so ungrateful. "Suit yourself then. Do what you always do, ignore the rules. Do what you like," he said carefully, before turning on his heel. Slowly, he made his way out from under the streetlight, melding into shadow once more. He had a lot to say yeah. He wanted to say what a pain in the ass he was, how he shouldn't have wasted his time at all tonight for such an unappreciative lowlife. The truth of the matter though, was that he had. He had left a command meeting, to chase after a child. He'd left his duty because he was worried about the boy he'd dragged back from hell half alive. He'd been afraid of losing something precious. Caring for something, that wasn't easy. Saturn didn't think he could, not for anything. It was easier to just fall back into shadow, to hear his own footsteps caress the street. It is easier to be stone.

Stopping in the darkness, he turned his head back, to be heard by the boy left standing. "Speak to me like that again, and I'll cut your tongue out myself," the soldier said softly, before moving off again into the night, wondering if he would follow or stay lost.

Wiseman closed his mouth
Madman closed his fist
Young man shows his age
Judge man named it sin
No righteous man exists

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[cass]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 2D6D86 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark Can't be sure when they've hit their mark, mark And besides in the mean, mean time

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”Suit yourself then. Do what you always do, ignore the rules. Do what you like.”

He was angry. I could see that clearly. I mean he was staring at me coldly, like imagine cold and then times it by fifty. I don’t think I had ever seen him this angry before. I was sure that any normal person would have apologised right then. They would have said something, anything that would have removed that icy look from them, but I stood there. Arms bared stubbornly across my chest. If he wanted an apology or even a thank you for his heroic efforts he was getting nothing from me. With those words he turns away and starts walking down the alley. I watch him go. He did that a lot, you know walked away. He finished what he did and then just walked away from it as though he could forget it all. It was like it never affected him and that made me envy him. I wasn’t even sure if he faced the same kind of problems I did. If he had nightmares all the time, or if his own screams still rung in his head. Had he ever screamed? Had he ever cried? I hopped from foot to foot, watching his retreating figure, undecided if I should follow or not. Halting Saturn turns around and I cock my head to the side expectantly.

”Speak to me like that again, and I'll cut your tongue out myself,” I bite my tongue, holding back my next words. I knew Saturn would do it, he was just that ruthless. I knew he had the capabilities to rip my tongue from my mouth, but I was almost, almost, one hundred precent sure that he would never do it to me. I mean he had saved me enough times. What a waste of time if he were to just undo all that hard work. Nah. He wouldn’t do it. He’d saved my ass enough times to maybe care a little bit for me. He’d even carried me once.

I can still remember that day is if it happened yesterday. But then I can remember all of those days and nights, I can remember each detail, from the drops of blood, to each scratch and bruise. Terror is a tricky thing. Once the seed has embedded itself within your mind it is often extremely hard for you to forget it. And no matter who you are you always want to forget it once it has happened, but my mind refuses to do so. Sometimes I like to block it from my mind, pretending that there is some sort of physical barrier between my memories and those. It is hard though, because they attack sometimes without me even understanding why. Sometimes they’ll just be dragged to the fore front of my mind and I’ll stare into space, reliving a thousand sources of terror and pain within a few short seconds. It is why I always try to stay busy. It is the main reason why I can’t sit back and let everyone else do the work. Sitting means nothing to do and nothing to do mean I think and thinking means I remember and then that means it all comes back and I hurt and I ache and I get scared. And I don’t want to be scared. I want to be brave like Saturn and Cyanide and even Dr Death.

Being scared isn’t what I was made to be. I was a Killjoy. I was a warrior and a soldier. I was meant to feel nothing and no pain. I was made to stand strong and tall and take to everything that came at me. Yet, I was still a child. Yet I was still stumbling after my nightmares, trying to keep one step ahead of them because they did scare me. I’d never admit it. Hell, I get angry when they come, but beneath that simmering anger is always fear. I don’t want to relive those moments. I don’t want to have to face them again. I wish they could disappear from my mind and never come back. I wish I could just forget it all and pretend it never happened. But everything seems determined to make me either remember it or make me suffer the same fate again. It is a tricky thing, forcing myself to hide the panic and the memories when I’m in a cell. When I’m drugged, or dragged under chains. It is a tricky thing to forget about it all, to force myself not to remember what pain was like, and what it was like to feel the press of a glowing red hot iron on my skin, especially when I see the face of my interrogator.

They’ll look at me, they’ll ask their silly questions and all the while I’ll be trying to fight off those memories. I’ll be trying to fend away times before when I had screamed and cried. When I had begged to be killed. When I had begged and pleaded for them to stop the pain because I couldn’t handle it anymore; because even death would be better than that. It was gruesome stuff. And now when I think back on those times do I only allow myself to smile, to scoff and think how foolish I acted. Sometimes I’ll even allow myself to feel embarrassed about it. The other guys have asked me if it hurt much, what was it like and I’ll try to dodge the questions. I’ll leave them be or I’ll walk away saying something as silly as ”no. It didn’t hurt at all.” Anything just to make them leave me alone. I know he saw it, though. I know Saturn saw it all. He saw every wound, every cut and bruise. I could remember the day he came.

I’d been dumped in that room. It had been one of the worst. I was crying when he came, I’d even begged the interrogators to kill me that day. Thinking back on it I feel foolish for even asking them that, but at the time I had wanted that release, to escape the pain that had prevented me from barely breathing as my lungs had fought to scream instead of breathe. I think I’d been lying there for some time, curled up, chained and battered broken and bleeding before they came. But I remember how the air had rung with the bangs, louder than the sounds of my screaming before. That was why I had looked up. I had caught my attention. The world was spinning and I was on the brink of falling into unconsciousness. My body seemed resistant to the very idea, though, and it was why I normally suffered so much. My body just never seemed to know when it had had enough. Then the door was opened with the loudest of bangs and at first I cowered against the wall, thinking, believing that they were back already or that maybe they were finally going to kill me, just as I had asked for. But it wasn’t them. It wasn’t them.

In that moment I’d never felt more relieved seeing another person. Saturn had come in and he’d carried me out. He’d carried me the whole way, he’d taken me to Dr Death and later on, a few days after, she’d told me that Saturn had stayed out there, that he had heard me scream as she treated me and that he had even heard me cry. It still embarrassed me. Saturn was still walking away from me and he was going and going. Sighing I ran after him, my feet silent as a ghosts on the ground. When I catch up to him I slow down, shoving my hands into my pockets I turn my head slightly to face his. ”Look… I’m sorry about saying that stuff, ‘twas the honest truth that’s all. Just saying what had happened, and how you were in the wrong, and you had like strut-“ I cut myself off. I look away from him. Ripred apologies were hard. The last time I’d had to apologies to Cyanide I’d ended up offending him instead, and he’d punched me. No I was not good at this.

”Okay don’t worry about what I said just then. Okay… um… I guess I’ll just say thank you then – I mean a long overdue thank you, because I actually never did thank you for that one – two, wait no four times you have dragged my ass out of some pretty bad situations.” At least I had tried.

I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart
I'm in the de-details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my level
I just gotta get you out of the cage
I'm a young lover's rage

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[gamemaker kelsier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, border: DEF895 solid 2px; width: 500px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px 0px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1e; border: DEF895 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 43px 43px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true] erasmus saturn

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There's a wonderful sort of silence to an alley way at night. Like every noise made is muffled, echoing right through him. He can feel his senses hunting the air, tendrils searching for sound. His whole body is alert, yet he moves through the night like a fish in a stream, ponderous and smooth all at once. He doesn't breath as easy, each step propelling him forward with careful grace, not betraying this. The cut on his thigh irritates, but doesn't hamper him. His heart beats like a jack hammer in his chest, his fingers clutch thin air. In memory of the feeling of long blonde tendrils clenched between his fingers, and when he looks at his wrist, there is a hair stuck to his sleeve. Stiffly, he picks it off, and it floats off in the wind. The woman it belonged to walked away bloody tonight. I goddamned hope so. He isn't used to this feeling of annoyance.

He has felt satisfaction before at a job well done, felt the bloodlust consume him whole and raw. He has never felt the worry he did before the fight, when he'd pushed into the Kid's room and found him gone. In that moment, now that he had time to think about it, he knew he had been nothing but annoyed about the dumb guy. Was I worried, or annoyed? He'd get in trouble later for missing the rest of the meeting, maybe even get a haranguing. None of that had crossed his mind when he'd gone running out of the hideout. He'd only been able to think about bloody chains and a slowing heartbeat. He'd only been able to think about the fact that there wouldn't be another time to save him. Thinking of others too much, it was dangerous to do. He couldn't help it, the thoughts came anywhere. He'd wonder what the others were doing, and then he'd get annoyed with himself for wondering at all.

The thing that guy had said too, how his time was coming soon. Final day? What the hell is that garbage. Saturn had never been caught once in his career as a Killjoy. Maybe one or two close scrapes, but nothing at all dramatic. He had scars sure, people could try and connect the dots to a vacation in the Detention Center. He'd never had one, all of them gained from the men who'd raised him. One woman too, the boys had called her Mama Coops because she was reigning queen of their's. Nah, all these love bites on his back came from their 'careful raising' techniques. Saturn was too slippery to get caught. A good hooligan like himself never got caught because for him it'd be certain death. They all knew what he did, being the Robin Hood of a District gave the sheriff a personal vendetta. Not that he planned on being caught anytime soon. Although, it could be nice.

He sunk his hands into his pockets then, and stopped, left foot hanging in the air above brick. What a dumb thought? His brain paused for a moment, rewinded, played, paused. It could be nice to be captured? Nice to see his final day? What about all the days he'd spent fighting, leading up to this one? All his eighteen years spent, almost 10 million minutes wasted because he thought it could be nice to be captured for once? He had no use for damsels, nor for being one. Saturn knew, he did know this. Yes, I know this. He knew, that no one was going to bother saving him. If he was captured it really would be it, and even thinking it could be nice was a suicide of thought. Placing his foot back down, he started up again, and resumed. It wouldn't be nice to be caught though, it'd be nice to be saved.

Maybe that was why he was so annoyed? He'd just scraped his knuckles against a brick wall literally and metaphorically. He'd done something he'd considered stupid to do, gone after the kid when it was a danger to his own health. Or maybe it was such an annoyance because he knew that if he had been in the same situation, no one would have come for him. Either they all thought he'd be fine with whatever happened, or they didn't think he was catchable. They just wouldn't think to come looking for me. Maybe they wouldn't think to go looking for the Kid either because Saturn was still the only Killjoy out here who'd been searching as far as he knew, and maybe that annoyed him more . If nobody cared than what was the point in caring at all too. Why should Saturn care after all these years of not caring and why should he feel that he has to. The Kid wasn't his fucking problem.

He heard his footsteps before he saw him, and knew it was him, finally deciding to catch up. Determinedly staring straight ahead, he kept on walking, doing his best to ignore what Opius counted as an apology. After a moment, he stopped and turned his head to the side, and maybe it was childish, but he seemed to stare straight through the other guy, eyes counting the brick behind him. Maybe the truth was that Saturn wasn't even interested in hearing it, whatever the kid had to say. Sure, apologies were great and all, but to Saturn things like those would never matter because he didn't require them. An apology was as useless as someone thanking him, something else he knew would ne-

"Okay… um… I guess I’ll just say thank you then"

He focused on Opius then, obvious surprise on his usually carefully crafted visage. The kid was a constant shocker. Here he'd assumed that Opius would try to apologize, and fail. Saturn would have gotten the laced apology, but been annoyed anyway. He just wasn't expecting Opius to acknowledge that he had been helped. Especially not by me. Turning to the front, Saturn set off again, movements stiff with confusion. He was having a lot of weird feelings tonight, it didn't seem very healthy. He decided that maybe it would be best if he just got back to the meeting that was very likely still going on. Some of the others really did like to drone on. Then there was Saturn, for all purposes a loud mouthed, small brained hero, in reality a silent, angst-filled, criminal.

Turning around, Saturn bowed stiffly, eyes staring somewhere off in the distance. "You're welcome," he said softly, and then as if trying to redeem himself, he added, "....I would have done it for anyone." Unsaid was the idea that Opius shouldn't think himself special. Satunr only half meant that. Seeming slightly lost still, he gestured behind him and turned around once more. Over his shoulder, he crooked his fingers as if to tell Opius to catch up.

He walked silently from then on, feet leading him home. It was only a matter of time until they got there too, and Saturn, never really one for subterfuge in his own sleeping place, kicked the door open in his usual manner, and strutted in with a bang. For a while, out in the dark, the mask had come down, but now it was up again. That manic smile curled upon his lips, and the Saturn that was quiet and still disappeared. He ducked reflexively as a shoe was tossed at him, and it flew threw the air to hit the wall behind him with a thud. "Where in the nine hells did you two run off to? Why was Opius out?" The questioning was given by the girl. Shoeless on one foot, and looking angry enough to spit. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Wiseman closed his mouth
Madman closed his fist
Young man shows his age
Judge man named it sin
No righteous man exists

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[cass]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; padding-left:10px; padding-right:10px; background-color: 0A0B09; border: 2D6D86 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 50px 50px 50px 50px;][atrb=width,300] Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. Oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, whoa. B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark Can't be sure when they've hit their mark, mark And besides in the mean, mean time

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"You're welcome… I would have done it for anyone."

I think if our positions had been reversed I would have done the same thing. Saturn had helped me and dragged me out of enough situations that in some twisted, almost non-existent way he had my respect. I wonder if he knew that. There were few people that would ever get a thank you or an attempted apology from me, but Saturn had become one of those few. And it wasn’t just because he was scarily intimidating, tall, muscular and all in all very cold and cruel. It was the haunting demeanour of the way he carried himself that made him truly fearful. The eyes seemed to bleed a suffering or hidden knowledge, a past that did not want and never would be repeated. In that way he was a lot like me. I tried to hide everything that I did, none of them knew where I came from before I came into the Killjoy’s, except Cyanide. I always made sure I hid my emotions as well as I could, but somehow I was never very good at it, and yet I had an experienced skill with keeping them well hidden after a few days in a torture chamber. You learn to protect yourself as well as everyone around you by staying silent. I don’t want anyone to know what happened, it is something I want to face alone. Sometimes I see it as weakness, you know, them knowing just how vulnerable I am. Just how vulnerable I was in those times. I don’t want them knowing. Just as Saturn seems bent on keeping everything in his life behind steel doors.

Yet if our situations had of been reversed I would go after him. I don’t think I could do much and if say he had been captured, tortured and beaten I don’t know if I’d be able to get him out, but I’d sure as hell try. He’d carried me, broken and bleeding, he’d risked his life to save my own and as much as I hated to admit that I felt some kind of loyalty towards him. There were few people I trusted, less people I’d ever talk to and yet Crude, rude Saturn is one of them. He isn’t easy to get on with and he sure as hell is not a nice person, he is frankly messed up in the head, but I liked him. And Saturn had done enough to deserve something that made me respect him, as horrid as I am at respecting someone. I knew Saturn was capable of looking after himself; he could fight better than anyone I knew. He could shoot and he could kill, he was ruthless, cold-hearted and did not give a damn about the enemy and that often that made me wonder if he would ever need rescuing. He didn’t seem like someone, in my opinion to get himself into the situations I get into. Mine are mostly silly errors and throwing myself into a decision before I think it through, whereas Saturn was so much more calculated and understanding.

No, he’d never ever end up in the same kind of situation. It would be completely wrong of him and the only way I could see him-

Oh. I halt. I stare ahead of me for a moment, my lips parting slightly in surprise. There was only one way I could see someone as smart and as accomplished as Saturn getting captured. That was me. He was capable of anything that was thrown at him, but what if one time, just one time it was too much? What would happen if it was because I had gotten caught, again, or I had made some mistake, because when I made mistakes there was no tactical error it was just plain old me. And usually to get me out or anything of that kind it wasn’t like a mission. It wasn’t something you could hardly plan. You had no clue where I was, hell you had little idea if I was even there. What if last time they had of gotten him? What if last time they had of gotten Saturn all because of me, all because he had risked his life to drag me out of my own cell, the one I had basically dropped myself into? Maybe one day it would be because of me, maybe one day he’d find himself within the confines of chains, bleeding and in agony because of me. I flinch, blinking rapidly, shoving the thought from my mind. I quicken my pace, my steps beating in time with Saturn’s longer strides. I wouldn’t do that to him. I spare him a small glance. He didn’t have to save me, none of them did. So why did he? Why did he risk his life for me and why was I still risking his and everyone single one of theirs? Because it was fun.

Because doing what I did, sneaking around and snagging info it was all I was good at. I bite my lower lip, feeling an abnormal amount of guilt. Saturn doesn’t seem to notice my discomfort, or if he did, he let on no sign.

Within moments we are back at the Killjoy’s headquarters and to my horror Saturn kicks the door open, sending a loud band ringing through the night air. It was not something I was comfortable with. And it was not something I would have done. In a situation like this I would have snuck in, using my unnatural ability to remain quiet to my advantage. I did not parade around the place, banging and clanging to grab everyone’s attention. Besides I was not even supposed to be up and about yet. I did not need people asking questions, especially ones I could not answer. Saturn struts in, but I hesitate a moment and lucky too, a show comes flying out of nowhere, before the enraged high pitched voice of The Girl follows, "Where in the nine hells did you two run off to? Why was Opius out?” I curse silently, slipping into the soft darkness of the room. I glare at The Girl. Normally any lie would leap straight to my lips and it would be easy enough to say. But with Saturn standing right there I was not sure if I could. I was not sure if he would approve and right now I did not need another scolding. “’tis none of your business.” I reply, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. It was not my best line, but I did not have the freedom to spin the web of a million lies this time. So I stood their shoulders hunched, waiting for Saturn to just say it all. Waiting for them to yell at me once more.

I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart
I'm in the de-details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my level
I just gotta get you out of the cage
I'm a young lover's rage

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[gamemaker kelsier]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1f1f1e; border: DEF895 solid 2px; width: 500px; height: 181px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 0px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true] In mild amusement, he watched colour flood Opius' cheeks, as he tried to shrug off the question, and his smile stopped half way. What must it be like, to be questioned by everyone. What must it be like to never have anyone trust in you? Saturn could relate to being taken into a room and scarred, but he couldn't relate to having people who were supposed to trust you always doing the same with their words. Something in him began to bend, he could feel it, feel a space slowly opening to fit something through. He could betray me. Yes. Everyone had betrayed him since day one. His parents, the people who were alotted to care for him had placed him like the morning milk on the steps of a death house. He'd been raised by a man who kept his inmates like criminals on Death Row. His childhood friend had died on him, by his hands. Hell, I've even betrayed myself. How could he even think of caring for this Kid. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop. Ask him later, and he wouldn't be able to explain why he did the thing he was about to do. He might decide to call it a moment of stupidity. What he should do, he knew this, is drag the kid before Cyanide, and make him grovel in apology. Yet, he didn't. "I took my dog for walk, is that your business?" He drawled out the words with an almost visible flourish, that trademark smirk blooming all the same. As if it was a second thought, slowly he turned around to pick up her tossed shoe. Almost lazily, he reached up as tall as his six foot frame could get, and placed it on a shelf, giving it a quick shove to push it out of harm's way and the Girl's reach. Glancing back at her stony expression, he shrugged and without his usual hesitation to physical touch, he grabbed the Kid by the back of his hood and dragged him along down the hall. From behind, came a sound of frustration from Nevada. That's a point for me. Not that she'd have much trouble getting it. She definitely had her ways. They went past the hall that would take Saturn back to the meeting. Voices still raged from within, casting a spectrum of hushed voices along the corridor, calling him back. He ignored it, letting go of the Kid's hood, and slipping his hands back into his pockets. He knew that the idea of heading down that hallway was enticing to the Kid. Not as much for Saturn. Meetings were always long and dragged on for too long. Once there had been a ten hour long one. The one where we planned to get Opius out had been two seconds. Saturn should go back, and he knew that. They had a really big thing coming up, and he was supposed to lead one of the skirmishes leading up to it. It'd end with him leading all of them, it always did. There was something about that maniacal grin, and that merciless laugh that demanded power and respect. At this point, he could still turn down that hallway and drag Opius in before the council to explain why he had disappeared. He could make Opius be the end that justified him, but it would be at the cost of Opius' pride. The other option was to take the blame himself, say he'd gotten bored and went for a walk. He noted with an odd confusion that his knuckles were slowly oozing blood around the bits of brick stuck in them. Housten could patch me up. But he found himself enjoying the sting. It felt like an anchor. He'd need it when Cyanide was pouting at him about his skipping out on an hour of the meeting for no apparent reason. That rage burning from before seems to spark around his fists, and down his spine. It never really goes away. Yet he hadn't taken very long to calm down today. There had been a clam after the storm on the way home. Opius had helped just by being there but not blabbering on. It had been a nice thing, a declouding he had needed. He could do a nice thing back. Just because he did nice things, it didn't mean it had to mean anything. There was no one who could hold him accountable for one favor he granted. He certainly wouldn't let Opius. Ponderously he swiveled on his heel and angled himself to stand exactly in Opius' way. Staring point blank at him, he said, "Look kid, seeing as I'm putting my ass on the line for you, you owe me. What you can do for me is not sneak out whenever, because that creates an inconvenience for me. I don't like to be inconvenienced." Pausing, he smiled slightly, eyes narrowing. The way he saw it, there was another boon or two owed him. Lighting up with mischief, he added,"You have to call me....." Hyung. But this wasn't the orphanage, and here it didn't mean a thing to anybody. None of them knew what it meant. Slowly, he bit his lip, and turned on his heel again, feet taking him off down the hallway. He didn't bother glancing back over his shoulder, he knew Opius would be there. The kid was probably still shell-shocked about Saturn covering for him. Hell, maybe he was too. Maybe Opius was just waiting for Saturn to finish that last sentence. Waiting to figure out what Saturn wanted him to call him. The preference had been lost though, and maybe it was better this way. Now he'll have something to think about. Saturn, was maybe alright with things now, could forgive the Kid for needing some fresh air, but Jet Star was another story. As a commander, he was still slightly pissed. Reaching Opius' door, a much longer trek than leaving had been, Jet Star swiveled and nabbed Opius by the hood again. Using the momentum of the sudden turn, he got behind the Kid and kicked him bodily into the room, the swillage of his being remaining like an outline in the air. He smiled at the curses that that rang from the room and shook his fist through the open door frame. "Stay," he commanded, and slammed the door with a thud. For a moment, he stood outside the door, remembering what he had been feeling earlier in the night, when he'd found the room empty. It wasn't there anymore, things had been put right. Everyone was where they should be. Better. There had been a problem, and he'd fixed it. That's all he'd wanted to do,and now he could go back. Chuckling to himself, he went back the way he'd come, hands slipped back into his pockets, the epitome of an uncaring guy. He was going to get a good chewing out by Cyanide, but it wouldn't be right in the room. It'd be later, after everyone else had left, and Saturn would be asked to stay. That was what a good commander did. He didn't make a guy look foolish in front of everyone. If Cyanide had a problem, he'd take you aside. Not like the Warden did. If the Warden had a problem with you, he chewed you out verbally and physically, preferably in front of as many people as possible.That's not how you get respect from your soldiers. Shaking his head, Saturn turned down the hallway to the meeting room. Cyanide would know he'd been doing something. His thigh was bloody, his knuckles ragged. It would be a good idea to come up with a good excuse. Unfortunately, Saturn wasn't so much an ideas guy, as a do something guy. Where he had an excellent reaction rate, his foolproof plans often included the 'knocking everyone out and rescuing the princess from the tower procedures'. Not so much the technical wordplay games. Opening the door, he was met by a roomful of cold glares. Jet Star's easy smile tugged at his lips and he shrugged lightly. "My apologies. Went to take a piss and ended up getting my fist lost in some guy's face. Shall we carry on?" He dodged the wad of paper thrown at his face with expert precision.

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