dancer in the dark { avalon }
Dec 16, 2015 19:31:36 GMT -5
Post by cass on Dec 16, 2015 19:31:36 GMT -5
SIGH
It had been almost an entire year since she'd stabbed her brother in the heart. She felt nothing when she thought of that day, nothing compared to the faint memory she had of it. It had taken almost a year for Ambrose to finally wash her clean of every single emotion, and now, thinking back on those sketchy memories she couldn't understand why she had taken so long to kill him. The hesitation in her steps could have been life threatening in an encounter with an attacking foe, and yet she'd stood by him, even targeted his throat before moving to the heart. Strategy wise that had been very poor on her behalf. Yet, some part of her still knew why she had hesitated, there had been a reason why she hadn't wanted to kill her brother.
She'd read up on those days called anniversaries, it seemed foolish for someone to go and stand by a grave or sit at home and drink, despondent because of the death of someone they had cared for. It seemed ridiculous to mourn the loss of someone weaker then yourself. Why worry that someone hadn't survived when you had? Humans were merely creatures of habit and survival, there needn't be anything else. She hadn't even cared for Fiore, had she? Perhaps. So the entire ceremony of reminding yourself of what you had lost was far too implausible for her. In her head, the picture of the boy she had killed would have thought differently, though. She could remember when he had cried, after Kiron had been killed, she could remember each smile he had given her after another person had died, it had looked so... sad. She'd lined up those expressions as best she could in the books she'd looked at. Ambrose had been giving them a lot more time to research aspects of human behaviour, he was beginning to see them as a way to get into undercover groups, and so he wanted them to be able to replicate a few emotions, like smiling, for instance.
As she headed towards the door to her room, she passed the small mirror that hung to the side. Turning to face it quickly she drew her lips upwards. The movement felt wrong, a foreign gesture that probably looked as fake as it was. But Ambrose had commanded them, and so they'd obey. After a few more seconds of painful maneuvering of her cheeks, she turned away, swinging her small backpack over her shoulder, slipping it around so it fit snuggly. It was perfect for carrying a few provisions, and survival measures, but not bulky at all. It wouldn't impede her in a fight, or an escape. She tucked the last item, safely away, and into the backpack, it was the one thing she had some small attachment to, it never strayed far from her reach. She knew that Ambrose wouldn't be pleased at all, knowing she carried a personal item with her. He had never asked, so she had never had reason to tell him. Her older instructors were a different problem, if they found out they'd likely report it if they believed it was some sort of weakness. At this stage, weakness was fatal, and Ambrose had no need for toys that could break. His soldiers had no need for personal items, because there was nothing real about them. And even after sending Fiore to the grave she still carried that foolish little book around with her, it had reached the point where she had forgotten how she wanted to finish the story in it.
She'd flip through the pages, almost wondering why Fiore's side ended where it did. Not knowing exactly how she had wanted to fill in that last page with her standing on the right, a head with no facial features, an arm extended to the centre of the page. But there was nothing on the left, she was sure she had had some idea of what she had first wanted to put there. Grabbing her last few items, she tucked her short sword into the sheath on her back, before filling the sheath at her thigh with a few kunai. They were one of her favourite weapons, good for both long distance fighting and close range. It was always the best thing to take out a target without actually running into them, it saved you the trouble of getting injured. Most of the time.
Today's target was a girl, however, it was unusual from what she was accustomed to. Ambrose was sending her on a scouting mission, he'd entertained the idea, during the last few weeks that he could possibly recruit people who hadn't been apart of his training since the age of five. It had taken him a little while, but eventually he'd rounded up a few names, and after careful consideration on his part, he'd decided that they were worth the risk. It seemed that they displayed the attitudes, or behaviours that had been built into his soldiers, granted it would take a few years to completely eliminate any sense of their own free will, he was certain he could do it. Pain could achieve a lot, especially if you knew how to deliver it right. Ambrose was a professional, he knew how to fix a human.
She'd accepted the orders with a nod of the head. Waiting, quietly as he filled her in on all the details before finally giving her a name for the mission and sending her off with a flick of the hand. Leia, as she would be known for the next day or so, slipped into the streets of district one. It was early morning, the sun beginning it's tedious climb into the sky. The first test she'd be delivering to the girl was simple enough, detect her movements, as she tried to pick-pocket her. Almost no one was able to catch Sigh, unless they were very skilled, so if she failed this first test then Sigh would continue on her way, as though she was nothing. Ambrose would accept that as failure, on her behalf however, and she'd likely return to be punished. But, she felt nothing at that, she simply accepted it for what it was, and moved on. As long as she survived it didn't matter what was done.
As she wove herself through the crowd she spotted her target, shifting through the crowd to take a better advantage point, she moved. Her shoulder grazed the girls clothes, and her fingers twisted towards Arobynn Calitz 's wrist.
