Relaxation Sensation, Open [14 Jan]

[Kristov Kagran]

He thought he’d go crazy. It had been too long. Far too long. Every moment stretched out forever before him in an endless stream of moments lost to him. Moments he could have spent doing other things. Doing things HE wanted to do. But he knew, despite everything he constantly told himself, that he was not free to do those thing that he wanted to do. He knew that despite the freedom he had now to wonder whoever he wanted in the Institute, he was not as free as he wished to be. He had left one kind of imprisonment to enter willingly into another. And all because he was an addict. All because he couldn’t stop himself from using.

Last time, he had been in here for so many weeks, without even the sight of sky or people. Always, when he was in confinement, he was not allowed visitors. He was not allowed anything sharp or dangerous. He was locked into a small little room and fed his meals by a person who normally ended up shaking and running off the moment he said anything remotely disturbing. He was locked in padded chains so that he couldn’t use the shackles to cut himself and in the end, he could not use what put him into what he not so lovingly referred to as his “time outs”. It was like he was being grounded. Despite that he was too old, and despite that the last person who had dared do that was most likely going to live the rest of his days hooked to machines in a hospital far far away from him.

Today though, he was not under lock and key. Today was one of those odd days where he had yet to misbehave himself. He had yet to locate someone new to bring into the fold of the Institute, as it was. It might not be all that pleasant, but it was the truth. Everyone who came to this place would ultimately have some sort of meeting with Kristov. It was one that usually ended in bloodshed and Kristov being locked up…again. But not today. He was finally out after his last grizzly meeting with a person who had thought themselves strong.

Now the dark haired Russian was not thinking of blood or pain or anything that amusing. At least not consciously. He always thought about it somewhat. It never left him alone. That unending thirst. That terrible need. Today, all he wanted was to relax. All he wanted was to pick up his violin and play. But he couldn’t. he didn’t have it. It had been taken as punishment for his last outburst. So now, all he could do was sit there and stare up at the ceiling. Stare and wish that for once things would go his way. Wish that he could go outside and be himself once again. He might have being a dog of the Government, but at least his leash holders let him see sunlight every once in a while.

“What a waste of a day.” he lamented, closing his dark eyes and trying not to think of other, less productive ways to spend his first day of freedom in a while.

[Zekriez Gavin]

There were very few things that… unsettled Zeke, that shook that center of calm and focus enough to make him truly anxious. The Institution was definitely one of those things. He was infinitely glad that he wasn’t a psychic or clairvoyant like what he heard some of his people were gifted with because the images he wasn’t quite he could handle coming from a place like this. Typically, residences and buildings didn’t acquire an aura of their own, as inanimate objects, but particularly well lived centers given to bouts of large activity sort of let the auras of those who were in contact with it seep into the very foundations of the place. This building was a glowing beacon of distress, pain, misery… he had known it the moment he laid eyes on it that this deserved to be in one of the lower circles of Hell and not as facility designed for rehabilitating wayward Advantaged Citizens.

Zekriez was here with a select few of his upper level psych class as their teacher wanted to give them experience beyond the classroom where various implements of the school of thought were employed. Now that he was here, the young man was sure he didn’t want to learn anything from the practitioners at this facility. Not if what they did caused the horrible feeling the radiated out every nook and cranny of this place. His teacher and fellow students were Conventional citizens except for one he knew was registered. The normals looked around with out fear or disgusts… just curiosity. The one that shared his heritage in the grand scheme of things was wide eyed and visibly shaken… because he knew this was where he would be brought if he ever “got out of line.” The doctor that greeted them and had been leading through most of the tour of the facilities had a sickly sweet smile on his face as he spoke, eyes brimming with good natured humility with any compliment thrown his way; just a humble man seeking to help those lost souls needing help fitting in with society.

Zeke saw the man for what he was. He saw the aura surrounding him filled with dark smudges there, covering him like oozing sores. A vile man who’s actions had left their mark on him. People liked to think they could get away with so many things, that as long as they believed in themselves or hid, no one would know their dirty secrets. It was true, to an extent, because Zeke wasn’t sure what actions caused the dirtied aura… but you couldn’t commit acts like the ones that went on in this place without bringing filth into your psyche, your aura, your body… your soul. It stained you, especially when you reveled in it like he was sure this man did. He enjoyed the suffering he caused, the “help” he was giving to these people within the walls. It was enough to make him almost vomit.

When they were given the chance to adjourn to the break room with the other employees to eat, Zeke peeled himself away from the group, refusing to spend another moment if he could help it in that man’s presence. He found himself in the Relaxation Room… though how anything in this place could be called relaxing in the least was beyond him. All the individuals in the room… swam with magic… of course, that was what this place was for. It was so terribly… sad, so many auras diminished, hurt, damaged… he knew there were things happening in this place the tour had to have left out to cause this kind of destruction. He honestly believe in coexisting with humans that hadn’t been given abilities… powers… but it was times like this, when he saw the atrocities mankind was capable of, the blatant disregard for humanity… that even his faith was shaken. He wandered through the people, a little ID badge hanging around his neck stating that he was not one of the “patients” separating him from them all… when what he wanted to do was try and help them… he felt powerless.

That was when he happened upon the larger younger man sitting, staring out at what little portion of the outside world they were allowed. “What a waste of a day.” He refrained from chuckling… because this was not a place of laughter or happiness and it was beginning to get to him. Zeke did offer a wry smile as he came to the man’s side. ”Indeed, I think I have to concur with you on that matter.” He turned slowly to the man and managed to keep the shock out of his face, leaving it smooth and peaceful. The man’s aura… god, so much pain and anger… he watched before his eyes as they mixed together and became something terrible… and dangerous. Dangerous, yes, instantly Zeke could tell the man was someone to be leery of. After all, he was an idealistic individual, but not completely naïve or stupid. He wondered what must have happened to the young man to create such… animosity he felt vibrating in the air around him, like a large beast currently relaxed but that could turn savage at a moments notice.

”Do you mind if I take a seat here?” And yet, Zeke did not flee from the sight or presence of him. It was his nature… a somewhat foolish nature at times, to help people he believed needed it and in turn help himself. Especially those like himself because how could they make a life for themselves, show who they really were to their oppressors if they were muddled and pained like this?

[Kristov Kagran]

Kristov had no clue that there was a tour today. He liked to have fun at the expense of the new soon to be head doctors. Usually, when there was such a facility tour, he was hustled into the smallest darkest corner the good doctors at the institute could find. That way he didn’t go about scaring the little children. All because the first time he had been out when there had been a tour, he had viciously attacked one of the students that had wanted to do a case study on him. Kristov liked his lack of sanity the way it was. He didn’t want any would be professional digging into his head where they didn’t belong. In a way, it was just like the “treatments”. Long ago, the good doctors had just given up on his “recovery”. Pain and torture were old friends to Kristov. He embraced them with a passion and a pleasure that was downright masochistic. When he was finished enjoying, he would then turn the table on the sadists, to show them what a real monster was capable of. In all, he was sure that had there been a tour, he, and the other “too dangerous to ever be let out unsupervised” would be hidden away until the group left.

It was quite a bit of a surprise when he heard the sound of feet passing by the room he was lounging in. Had his eyes been open, he might not have heard. But as he was only hearing and not seeing, his senses were more in tuned to listening. The little speech made Kristov want to get out of his chair and hurt someone. Such grandiose words. Such false sentiments. He wondered, what would those children out there do if they knew what really went on behind these walls. He wondered, what would they do if he just happened to take his shirt off and walk down the hall that way. But that would require movement. Kristov was simply too comfortable with his slight boredom than to spice it up for a short lived laugh. It wasn’t worth losing his freedom again so soon after regaining it from his last violent outburst. So instead, he tried to block out the sound of the sycophantic words of the Institute’s finest by pretending he was elsewhere. Anywhere else but this. Maybe outside on a hunt. Surely, his position as a SNAP would be called on again soon enough.

The tour went on and Kristov was again left in silence. While there were others in the room as well as himself, he knew he would not be bothered. In this place, when the guards weren’t looking and the staff was busy elsewhere, it was Darwinism at it’s finest. The strong lived and the weak got eaten alive in this place. Not literally of course, but it was just about the same. Kristov was at the top of the food chain. His power being what it was, it was just too dangerous and disturbing to attack him while he was wide awake. It was a bit odd though. Even in this place, away from society, there was a sort of society. Even in this gated communality, Kristov was on the very outside. A deviant among deviants.

But, it was because he was not usually approached, that it was rather surprising that the voice of a young man came towards him. At first he didn’t think that the boy had been speaking to him. Surely, the children coming through had been warned about certain inmates. Surely so. Yet it seemed that this young man didn’t know the danger. Kristov wasn’t about to show him. Even if he was sorely tempted; just to kill his boredom for a bit. With a quiet placidity , Kristov lowered his eyes until they locked upon that of the young man before him.. In a way, it looked as if the older teen was some prince looking down from his throne and not some inmate staring from a slight uncomfortable chair from inside a detention center. They continued down to lock upon the ID tag hanging about the young man’s neck. A psych student…A junior head shirker. He wondered…had this little doctor to be ever had any sort of experience with a man like himself.. It might be amusing to baptize this one. Baptize him by fire and blood into the fold of the “rehab specialist”.

“Did the tour of the zoo bore you that much? I’m afraid the dog and pony show have been canceled for this evening, Zekriez Gavin. But if you must sit…I’m not going to stop you. Though I would be careful if I were you. You’re wet nurse might come back and panic seeing you in here. In fact…” Kristov lifted his arm and very slightly rolled his sleeve. It was just enough to see his watch. It was also just enough to show a hint of the start of a deep scar line that went along his wristband. “I’d give them five minutes before they send a search party after you…As I don’t think they usually let there precious students play with the animals without supervision.”

[Zekriez Gavin]

He watched with quietness, a stillness about him that didn’t off any discomfort… as he was content to stand there all day and smile slightly down at the man in his chair. Larger though, taller, more muscular. Zeke was used to being the smaller man in a situation; it didn’t bother him in the least. Neither did he seem confused when the man said his name so easily; obviously it was on the ID tag they had given to him. His driver’s license was sitting back at the check in counter… perhaps so no one on the inside could snatch his ID and make their way out of the building as if that was the most natural thin the world. ”No, it didn’t bore me in the least and thank you. I’m sure my wet nurse will quite content with his meal for a while.” He sat down slowly in the chair beside the man and looked out through the window. No amount of fluffy clouds or sunny days could ever brighten this building again… it had soaked into it the purest of suffering and was forever tainted.

Zekriez gazed at the watch as he was intended to and noticed the scars crisscrossing the man’s arms. There was no way to tell if they were torture aftermaths or self inflicted… and he wasn’t familiar enough with such marks other than to know a bladed instrument had been used on them. The aura as it shimmered over them though seemed to turn… red, crimson; the color of freshly spilled blood for just a moment. He could see different things depending on how he focused on a person’s aura... the scars held pain… but a strange sense of satisfaction. ”Do you consider yourself an animal in need of a cage?” It might sound like it had that air to it of a psychologist sitting in their comfy chair, asking questions to try and lead their patient to some kind of understanding… but it didn’t. His voice was peaceful, even… only mildly curious as it was a question about what he thought maybe the weather was going to be like tomorrow, not as if he expected an answer of terribly great importance.

”We are what we believe ourselves to be, no greater power exists than the image we paint in our minds for what we view or aspire to be.” Again it had the strange sensation of as if should have sounded like he was preaching or imparting some great wisdom, like the man beside him should be taking notes because it was as if gospel. But, as like before, it was a serene comment, a statement, nothing that would impact the world. A thought spoken aloud for no one’s benefit other than his own. Zeke had learned long ago that very few people enjoy being preached to and told what to do… it took a particular mind set, a exact situation, for someone’s mind to accept such dictation and order… like a church gathering with head of it speaking words from the Bible or a submissive absorbing a dominant’s words like the facts of life.

”May I be so bold as to request your name?” Zeke’s head turned to view the young man again, taking him in. Prideful, arrogant, physically domineering and if his aura said much, probably psychologically too. He wasn’t broken in the same way a lot of the other’s locked up here were… but the college student did believe he was scarred in other ways. That was the problem with his magic… he could catch sensations, emotions, glimmers of insight… but no actual thoughts or memories. No, that wasn’t true. On time when he had read an aura from an object, from his old boyfriend’s love letter to him, there had been such passion in it he had an image of himself laying naked on the other boy’s bed. It was what he had been thinking about when he wrote it and had engrained itself so much on that emotion, that sentiment; it became part of what he left on the letter. It was nothing like what a clairvoyant was capable of, but it was just as potentially hazardous without a focused mind… and especially if you didn’t expect it. Emotions could overwhelming like that, taking you by surprise.

Zeke didn’t seem shaken by the man’s behavior… he knew what he was capable of more than snide remarks and terrible sarcasm. There was no reason to get worked up over it and his smile never faltered.

[Kristov Kagran]

It was strange to Kristov. By now, he was used to that little bit of trepidation that came from being around him. But this young man…this man who might even be older than himself, seemed not to be very bothered by him. Not even by his imperial way of reacting to a visitor. In fact, this young psychologist to be had not only met his comment but shot it back at him in a way that showed no fear. He liked that. He didn’t like cowards at all. Broken toys were just no fun to play with. The fact that this young man seemed to find this place interesting in the least was a bit strange though. He supposed it was another bleeding heart who had yet to see the reality that was this place. Pretty soon, this little boy was going to grow up. He was sure that if this boy ended up working in a place like this, his charitable work would soon turn into what the other doctors did. He had seen quite a few bright eyed young men come through this place to leave burned out and bitter and twisted as he was. It was quite amusing to see those angels of mercy fall so far so fast.

His intense gaze followed the young man as he sat. It was habit. Kristov did not trust anyone near him. He was always guarded. He refused to let anyone get to him. He didn’t want to be made weak. Not in this place. Trusting and letting others near, even attractive others like this Zekriez, was just not in the cards. Not that this young man was his type. Not really. Kristov liked his men big and strong, if only because there was a strange exoticness to being able to control someone so strong. However, he knew looks weren’t everything. He knew that because to a normal person, he looked just like anyone else.

Once the young man was seated however, Kristov turned his eyes back towards the window. Sometimes, he really did feel like he was some sort of animal. He was an attack dog for the government. He was forced to live locked away in the kennel, but longed to run free. “I can’t very much say it’s a proper meal…for us at least. I’m sure if you had stayed with the feildtrippers, you’d be having stake and wine and all sorts of good things.” He was positive that the staff was fed a lot better than the inmates here were. It was just a guest though. He had yet to feel the need to power his way through the door guards to get into the staff eating area.

He was too focused on the outside to realize that the other man had seen the very few marks visible at the moment. There had been a time, when he first got here, that he had to wear what the others did. It had caused quite a storm of disgust and he had been allowed to wear his own clothing. He supposed it was also because it was easier to get a straight jacket around him if he was dressed more normally. But his focus was soon diverted back to the young man. There was a slight frown. He should have been more careful with his words. This was a baby head shrinker. However, he did find the question a little amusing.

“It all depends on your point of view. To a conventional citizen…I am. To those in here…I am. But me…No I’m not just an animal.” In that small moment, Kristov couldn’t help himself. His face slowly changed into a dark, fearsome smile. It gave his already handsome look a taste of hidden darkness. His smile was malicious and a bit crazed. Like he was holding something inside of him back from the world. “I’m more than that.” He was a monster. A animal was stupid and instinctive. Monsters were crafty and vicious. It was worse to be a monster and not an animal. Not that he said that. He wasn’t going to let this young man get into this head that easily. Even if it sounded more like pleasant normal conversation and not a session.

As the young man continued, Kristov’s smile changed. He rarely got to discuss such things as philosophy and theory. He rarely got to exercise his mind in a battle of wits. It was nice. He might be a monster, but even monsters had their weaknesses and enjoyments. “But , if you think that, then you completely ignore labeling theory. I am what I am because I see myself through the labels other give me. I’m only bad because others deem me as such. You call me a criminal, so that it what I am. Isn’t that so? A human cannot see himself but though his interactions with others.” He indeed had not see it as preaching but as a meeting of the minds in the examination of theory.

He supposed though that if he was to continue to speak theory to this young man, that it was only fair to exchange names. Kristov already knew Zeke’s because of the rather convenient little ID tag hanging at his neck. “You’ve already been so bold.” He observed quite ruefully. “And I suppose I should answer you. I’m Kristov…though here it would be more appropriate to call me Inmate number 391.”

[Zekriez Gavin]

“Steak and wine? Then I’m not missing out on much because I don’t eat meat and wouldn’t dream of becoming even slightly intoxicated in this place.” No, not in the least, and for several reasons. The most prominent of which not wanting to make a simple mistake and alluding to his powers. That wouldn’t be very smart or suave of him to do in the Institution. The decision to remain unregistered had been… a difficult one. In the end, it had been born out of rebellion and a belief in his own moral codes. It was hard to say he went against the government because what he thought they were doing was wrong and not as an act of self-preservation. He had known he as an Advantaged citizen since a very young age, that aspect of his life was inseparable for the other parts. But, he truly did believe what was being forced on his kind was reprehensible as much as he could understand how it was born out of fear of what the possibilities. It presented a no-win situation in many minds: register them, control them… or let them run amok and subjugate the rest of humanity to their whims. “For the greater good” they had been collared, tagged, and traced, whipped into line should they ever falter in the slightest. It was the potential for great evil that kept them bound by society, despite the fact that every man is given a choice of what road they will follow. The sad truth was someone that could call down fire from the skies tended to scare people a lot more than a Conventional with a gun.

Zekreiz watched as the man spoke, saying how others saw him as an animal, but how he did not view himself as such… and then he smiled. His aura… it grew darker in that one moment, not as if the color’s were becoming deeper, but a blackness that slid through it like… a virus, corrupting it. That was much more frightening than any half crazed smile the man could give him. He didn’t need to say the word monster out loud, it was written in that smile, those gleaming eyes, and the erratic behavior of the black plague that took over the man’s aura. Then, it faded, returning to normal slowly as the man exerted some control, a mask, over it all again. Deep down though, Zeke wasn’t scared. Oh, yes, he was sure he didn’t want to give this man an opportunity to let out whatever was lurking in him completely; he wasn’t a fatalist by any means. It was just that a profound amount of concern and… pity overrode it all. What had to have happened to make this man the way he was? Zeke did believe some people were born without certain defining characteristics of humanity usually attributed to some mental failings on that individuals part of given specific names and reasons as to just why they couldn’t fit in with the rest of the masses. But, more often than not, he was sure more “monsters” were made and not born; that was what he sense from Kristov. His aura wasn’t completely mingled with whatever this vileness was; it was subjugated by it, infected, like someone had shoved it in him to grow and fester like a parasite. It took a great amount of control not to let his emotions fill his eyes because he knew Kristov would have enjoyed the feared just as much as he knew it would have angered the man to see pity reflected back at him.

”I’m not ignoring the labeling theory so much as not putting a lot of stock into it. But, you are correct in that does have an impact on are own reflection, who we see in the mirror of our minds. We can’t help but internalize it a bit and even then, even if we don’t believe it, that doesn’t always, change the label or how we appear to others. It is most difficult to work around, having that image from other’s forced on you on a constant basis, but not in its self is it the end all of definition. Something must be said for the human drive to exist, to seek our own path, the willpower to define ourselves beyond the symbols other’s hang around our necks to bare.” Zeke smiled, that same, soft smile he had been bestowing upon the man ever since he had arrived in the room. He had not expected a debate. Not because he thought Kristov lacked the mental capacity or the acuity for such a feat, it just was a… pleasant surprise to hear him discuss it, rather than force a point. The man didn’t really strike him as one to accept other views with any degree of ease. ”And I never said you were a criminal.” That was particularly vague, but he was a little bit more cautious in such a building to speak his mind openly about such matters.

”I’m not usually so bold, at least I’m told that I am not. You don’t seem to mind too terribly much. I think… perhaps I will call you Kristov instead, if that is all right with you? Inmate 391 may be a label placed on you, but it’s not really who you are. I doubt that you are one… to allow others to name you with such ease,” Zeke spoke rather airily. He was pushing it, he knew that, almost defying the conventions set forth for this establishment outright. Dehumanization, depersonalization, taking away who the individual was until they were just a cog in a machine that needed to be fixed, oiled… with the threat of replacement hanging over their heads. If a cog stopped being serviceable… you could always get a new one. The thought caused a reaction on his face, tighten the skin around his eyes, darkened those slate blue hues with a quality almost like anger, but with purpose: defiance. This was what he would fight against, what he refused to submit to, and it was easier to do that without Big Brother being even more focused on him as a registered citizen. He forced his face away from Kristov and stared out the window. The day didn’t seem quite so bright anymore… even the view outside. Darkness or daylight… shackles and oppression didn’t care when or how they were worn.

[Kristov Kagran]

Kristov had been only slightly joking when he had listed what was likely being served at this moment. He didn’t really know. He was sure though that whatever it was, it was far better than what the inmates got. He was sure all this young doctor to be had to do was look around to see some of the more popular techniques practiced. When Kristov had first arrived, after the initial treatments ended in bloodshed of those treating him, they had used starvation, trying to force submission by only giving him what he needed to continue existing. He had proven resilient to that.

In the end, his continued good behavior was granted to his keepers only because he was allowed to go outside on a job once in a while. Not nearly enough. But he was biding his time. For now, this place was his kingdom as well as his cage. He could wait for the guard to drop and just never return after a job. At least not without a fight.

“You don’t eat meat…” He was rather amused by that. He had thought this one might be a bleeding heart idealist who didn’t know the grim realities before. Now, it was worse. Here was someone who must value life so much that he couldn’t even bring himself to eat an animal in order to survive. Here was a person so fundamentally different from Kristov that it was almost frightening. He wondered what would happen if Zeke were to discover that life really was a worthless and pointless struggle. It was growing very difficult as their talk went on to contain his desire to give the young man a taste. Just the slightest fraction of a hint as to why he was here locked away.

The more he fought it, the worse the urge was getting. Kristov really was an addict. He longed to give this man a little scare. But he knew that if he did, that would end what was an entirely far too interesting conversation. A far better and more intelligent talk than he had had in this place in a while. “I think that you are wise not to partake here. If you got…drunk….who knows where you might end up. You might just end up talking to the most dangerous one here.” He said the words in such a dismissive manner. Kristov was positive that there were worse people than him in here, but he had yet to encounter him. So from his standpoint, he was the biggest monster of them all.

He was rather bothered by the fact that the slightly older male had not been bothered by his smile. Normally, that one look was all it took or the doctors to return him to his nice padded cell in those nice padded chains. He did not see the pity as he refused to see it. If he had seen, it would not have boded well. He would have boiled over and gone a little mad. He would have because it was far too late for pity. Mercy and pity…he had never gotten them when it mattered most. Why should he get it now, when it was useless. There was no point in feeling sorry for the unrepentant. Instead, he paid more attention to the conflicting opinion the other was expressing.

Normally, what Zekriez had assumed would be right. Kristov was not really one who liked being told he was wrong. He wasn’t wrong. Ever. His opponent could bring a hundred factual references and eye witnesses to prove their point, and Kristov would obstinately refuse to admit his error. But the other man wasn’t exactly saying he was wrong. He was just pointing out more theories to be explored and exploited. Besides, Zeke had said the words that had mattered most. The words Kristov had zeroed in on to the exclusion of all others. He was correct.

He only nodded as the other kept with his speaking points. Willpower and the drive to exist… If only Zeke knew what it took to keep existing. What it had taken to finally take control over his life. If only he knew just how long those labels had been placed upon him. Demon child. Thing. Monster. “I suppose you also have a point.” He gave at least that much ground, which was a victory in a way. He had acknowledged that another person might also have valuable insight. “You did never call me that. But I highly doubt your one opinion matters in this place. Still, you are a strange one, Zekriez... I’ll grant you that. You are truly odd.”

He looked to the young man for a moment offering a rare, semi-sane smile. It was strange to see such a look of humanity from Kristov. “You may call me that…Because you aren’t like the others. Not at all.” He didn’t just mean that defiance for the system that Zeke was showing by treating him like he was normal. Not just that. Besides, in a way, Kristov found that defiant look attractive. He could only imagine what would come of such a look if the hands of a very dominant man like himself. He wondered if he could break a young man like this, or if he would be the one to finally force Kristov into that dominate submissiveness that he so secretly desired. Not that it was just this dark haired young man that made him think that. Kristov had encountered quite a few who he had placed his hopes in, only to find they were not up to the task of caring for such a volatile and violent AC.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Kristov spoke again softly, to bring a little more emphasis to what he had said before. “You are different because not once in this conversation have you asked me what it is I do. Nor have you asked me to…demonstrate.” And oh did Kristov enjoy the demonstration part. “Usually, that is the first thing that new members of the staff ask. I see it all the time. The new staff dog and pony show. But I suppose that could be because you aren‘t staff. So we need not put out the flaming hoops quite yet.”

[Zekriez Gavin]

Light and darkness were difficult things to contemplate and as much as he spouted his beliefs, Zeke didn’t consider himself a philosopher in any regard. Such was the state of the world though, even if the people of his nation refused to acknowledge a problem existed. The proof of such troubles… he was sitting in it right then: a throwback to a time when such places were treated like kneels, poorly kept ones, for those diagnosed with insanity. Those crude institutions had eventually been abolished for the crimes against humanity they represented… and here it was, reinstated across the country for those born with strange and wonderful gifts… for those who didn’t do was they were told. For those who slipped up and for those like Kristov… whose troubles Zeke was sure had created one or more mental instabilities in. One glance and it was easy to discern that stable was not a word that could be applied to this man.

”I apparently don’t need to be intoxicated to choose a dangerous partner for conversation.” Zeke let his eyes drift back to Kristov with a half-smile on his face. His eyes, though, weren’t as carefree as they had been. A focused intelligence and understanding lurked there as they settled on the larger male. ”My opinion matters little anyway. But, it holds true not matter what surrounds it, be it mortar and plaster or rigid ideologies founded by overzealous and frightened men,” his voice was smooth, even, eloquent. It wasn’t always that way, but Kristov wasn’t a man that made his blood rush or his heart to skip a beat. Composure was paramount to maintain in front of this individual.

”Am I truly that different from the others you know and interact with or are you speaking of the… doctors that walk the halls around here?” What sort of reaction was he used to from people that met him? Obviously he considered himself dangerous, and rightfully so, but there was so much in Kristov’s consideration of him that he couldn’t place. Even the play of his aura wasn’t hint enough as to quite what thoughts were floating in his head.

Zeke laughed lightly, ruefully. A dog and pony show indeed. ”I have a sneaky suspicion that whatever your many talents are Kristov, I would not like a demonstration without a clear set of… rules established beforehand. I’m sure such little forethought has caused those who have requested a viewing in the past have earned a great many… difficulties because of it.” A wry smile splayed across his lips. ”I would like to talk at length about many things with you. However, this is not a conducive… or friendly environment for such conversation.” He wanted to say so much to this man… his condolences for the troubles of his life… how he thought this establishment was an abomination, a farce, a horror that needed to be destroyed.

”Brent…” Zeke’s eyes had shifted from Kristov towards the entrance where the AC member of his group stood, further into the room. The blond looked a little… whiter than normal, eyes wider, as if he had been shell shocked. Brent was a talented individual in class, but Zekriez feared that such harsh realities like this place held… things he had never had to view or deal with in his life. Sheltered was a word that came to mind, which some people accused Zeke of being. The unregistered man had his views because of quite the contrary though… he knew a great many harsh realities even if he had not had to have them… carved into his skin like others. Anxiety played across Brent, shimmered his aura erratically. Then if flared at the same time Zeke saw fire glide across the man’s fingers for a second before snuffing out. He was losing control… dangerous for a firebug and for an AC in a place like this. Zeke couldn’t tell someone’s magic just by looking at their aura; it wasn’t a knowledge he could gleam just by a glance. But, similar… natural talents, when used, grew in the aura in fairly similar ways. Those with a talent for fire, like Brent’s, would flare like the corona of a star, like a bonfire, the more it was used. Zeke had never seen it happen, but he was sure if one with that ability gave completely to their power, their aura would wrap around them like a column of flame… searing to his sight. So, my deduction, he began to learn to distinguish what the flickers of magic meant. Actual spellwork though… he had never viewed it’s usage, he had no idea what it would do… if it would be different or if it would just cause that natural spark to grow like when their talents came to bear.

Zeke stood up and went over to him instantly, smiling, but cautious. ”Brent, calm yourself. Deep breaths…” Luckily no one else had seen… or were reacting to it. He wasn’t sure if Kristov had or not, but that wasn’t his concern at the moment. Bright blue eyes turned to him, showing off his Aryan heritage to its fullest. ”Zeke… we’re about to… l-leave. Oh… god, this place… it’s a nightmare. I… I saw them beating a kid on the way here. I don’t think they saw me… but…” His breathing was erratic… control slipping. Zeke’s hands went to cover the man’s that were twitching in front of him, to hold them as his aura flared again in a flash and fire, now hidden by Zeke’s hands, bloomed to life and burned him. ”Oh! Zeke… I… god, I’m sorry.” The man’s voice was shaky and looked to be about in tears as the stress culminated in the pit of his stomach and turned his aura into a static thing, wild, jumping, swirling like a maelstrom. Zeke flinched, because of course it had hurt, but cupped Brent’s hands with his own, holding tightly and merged their auras for a few moments. It was like… sticking his entire body into the force of a storm, the way it was acting… spreading himself out… further… further… stretching himself thin as he let his own calm slow the turbulent winds of the man’s psyche, bring the rain and lightening to a halt. It wasn’t like forcing it into submission. It was… a gentleness… a coaxing quality like bringing and angry canine’s hackles down with soothing words and gestures. But, with how distraught Brent was… it was hard not to lose himself… taxing, draining. The power he had to use… revealed himself to Brent. It was impossible to be that close, touching, working his power and not have another magic user realize what was going on. Worse, his aura had leaked… spreading himself too far so the tingle of magic and calmness washed over the room like a tickling breeze before vanishing. ”…Z-Zeke…?”

”Don’t… worry about it Brent…” Zeke sighed heavily and gently pulled his hands away. He looked… tired. Normally, he would have relaxed Brent’s aura slower… but he had been worried he didn’t have that kind of time with the man’s powers starting to react to his mental state. It had left him feeling… empty. He moved slowly to a nearby chair and eased himself into it… cringing. He pulled up his hands… the palms and under the fingers were a startling harsh pink… aching, pricking with pain. Nothing he wouldn’t heal or get over with, nothing all that bad really… like laying your hands on a metal surface that was just a tad too hot and snatching them back instantly. Okay, perhaps a little worse. All those careful years… of hiding except from a very select few and he blows it in the worse place imaginable. The other people in the room may be perplexed to the source… but at least Brent knew. They weren’t… friends, classmates, but not close. He couldn’t guarantee this knowledge being safe in the other man’s hands. It was a sad truth, but one he excepted.

[Kristov Kagran]

Kristov continued to smile. This young man was rather intriguing. No matter what he might say, the other seemed not to give way. It would seem that Zeke was not at all afraid of him. It was a first. Kristov found that most who came to speak with him came in afraid already. Perhaps it was because the others warned the new ones about him. This other young man had not been warned about him. For his own part, Kristov was actually trying hard not to let his better nature take over and end up doing something unpleasant to this very interesting young doctor. It would be a shame to chase one like this away. One that didn’t seem to be bothered and in fact, seemed to want to keep raising the bar. Kristov did love a good hard struggle against a worthy opponent. It had been so long since he had met anyone that he considered an equal. In fact, though he was only nineteen years old, Kristov was sure that there was no one left in the world who was strong enough to stand toe to toe with him and look him in the eye.

Lightly, he leaned back against his chair a little to look up at the ceiling, his smile even more amused than before. When he did, a little more of his neck and throat showed past the high neck of his turtleneck. There, like on his wrists, there was evidence of marks, old and new that kissed his flesh and made it less than whole. “Apparently not.” He quipped back. He had seen the look the other gave him. So Zeke was trying to figure him out perhaps. But did the other man really understand. Did he really understand that in this one case, the men had a very good reason to be frightened. “But then again, along with your opinion, there is this place. Just like you said…anyone here should be considered dangerous.”

“But yes. Indeed you are different from them. All of them. There is a quote that I live by. In this place, it holds even more true. I have made a heaven of this hell. This place is my kingdom. The doctors, the inmates, even the little lost kittens such as yourself, you are all part of my domain the moment you step foot into this building. They all know this, but you do not. And so you are different. Even now that you know, I doubt you’ll treat me any differently than you already have. Which is why, even if you asked, I would not do a demonstration for you.” He wouldn’t, because even though the siren song that called out to him to put this man in his place lured him to do so, he still viewed this person as something…he still saw Zeke as a person, and not an object. Perhaps because Zeke had treated him with such distinction already. “And I would have to agree with you. Even if this is my kingdom, it is not Disneyland.” He was curious though as to what else this slightly older man would want to know. Kristov could probably tell Zeke a great deal about the institute and about being a SNAPS agent.

He was about to suggest that they could go someplace more quiet and private for further talking when another came crashing into his quiet place. What really caught the man’s attention was that the other knew of the new person’s presence before Kristov had noticed. How was it that someone knew a person was there when that person was behind him? He turned to lock his dark eyes upon the newest addition to the room. He knew that look. It was a look that could quickly drive Kristov over the edge and into a very sadistic state of mind. The blond looked so frightened. Kristov felt the need to utterly crack and destroy the person who had disturbed what had been a very interesting discussion. He could feel his hands start to shake and a cold sweat formed as he fought against himself and his needs.

He was never given anything that might be used to hurt himself with. Whenever Kristov was allowed outside of his special room, there was always a person who had to go though to make sure there was nothing. Not a knife, not an ink pen, not even a toothpick. Nothing. His mind started to race to find a way to get protected. Kristov had seen the fire. He knew an out of control AC…he was pitted up against them often. The more dangerous the AC, the more likely would the SNAPS send his out. Probably in hopes that they would kill each other. Unconsciously, he moved his hand up to his mouth and bit down. He did not use his ability. It was just to keep himself appeased. A slight bit of pain to remind himself not to interfere where he wasn’t needed. It was growing even harder with the sudden taste of blood in his mouth. Kristov’s entire body had just started to shake from a slight withdraw when a sudden calm swept over him. It was strange. He had never felt so at peace. Never. For a very frightening moment, everything had been taken from him. His pain, his anger and resentment. There was nothing but soothing calm…and it scared the hell out of Kristov.

Then it ended and the fire user was calm. The user was calm and Zeke was sitting back down, looking like he had just run a mile. Not only that, the calm was gone as well. Everything that had been taken away by the strange calm came rushing back like some tsunami. The swelling, crashing feelings forced Kristov to his feet and towards the two who had entered his kingdom. Kristov turned to look at Zeke. With smooth strides, he came over to the other and leaned to whisper into the other’s ear. “I don’t know what it was you did, but I know it was you…If you do that again…if you ever do that again to me…I swear to all that is unholy, I will cut you open and wear you as a hat.”

With that out of the way, Kristov backed off to address them both “You can’t stay here.” He informed. “They’ll know you’ve used. They probably already know. They’ll come soon. They’ll come and you’ll be the one they’ll be re-educating. As a SNAPS, I should force you to stay until they come, but out of…respect….” He said that word tentatively. “For your friend, I will help you get out of this place.”