I Must Scream

I Must Scream

Postby catch » Thu Jan 26, 2012 6:07 am


He held her little hand in his. There was the muddy, unreal feeling, the presence, of a precipice, and yet it could also have been a hole, a deep and howling hole that at once seemed familiar. Like all dreams, it was difficult to tell; like all dreams, only the immediate was apparent, was certain, and all else was that terrible and impenetrable fog that had yet to divulge it's secrets.

Catch held her little hand in his, and she, his little Star, was suspended over this precipice/hole. She weighed as nothing, and Catch knew that, but now she far exceeded his prodigious strength, pulling painfully at his arm, crushing him. Rhin chirped at him, and her curious chirp was mangled with fear, her pale eyes turned downward at the vast, black Nothing. Catch was certain he mouthed comforts to her, but past his own, pounding heart, he couldn't hear.

This was a contest, between him and the dream, the sour fear that filled his mouth until he wanted to vomit with it. As they always do, the dream one. With a soft, rippling sigh, it was Rhin's arm that gave first, perfect and pale skin peeling away, the snarl of tendons and veins, the glistening, rounded protuberant of bone. It was red that marred her hide as she fell, her little wings fluttering in vain, too small to support her, leaving Catch with nothing but the still-spasming, child-chubby arm in his grasp.


Catch came to his senses with a strangled scream, swimming up from a nightmare. He had not entirely been asleep, for he slept seldom, but his exhausted body had forced itself into a lassitude, drowsing away the stress of the past week, and what sleep could be attained was now utterly ruined by the nightmare.

It was not a terrible cell, nothing at all like dank or dripping, with a nice, comfortable cot that he now sprawled on. And Renea had done her best, too, so that it was littered with pretty, potted plants, their scent dissipating the cold, virgin smell of stone, and the little bars of iron set in the sturdy, wooden door.

Those bars. In the (months? years?) they wouldn't stop chattering at him. They called him nasty names, even now as he levered himself up on his cot. They called him a thief, called him a murderer, told him things from cell-mates that had come and gone. That he would be chopped to bits, or burned with hot coals, and they only laughed when Catch told them that his friends would do none of those things. Catch had tried to shut them up with his fingers, but the iron was covered in all those little mouths, and their sharp teeth bit at his fingers.

Catch only vaguely became aware that his hands were in his mouth. That the sour fear he thought he had tasted in the Nightmare tasted, now, much like his blood. Catch pulled them free, and looked at them, the knuckles bloody and gnawed, his fingers streaked with blood. They didn't hurt, and Catch quickly sat on them.

Where was Miss Renea? Without her, Catch fidgeted, his eyes roving over the same points they had always roved over, seeing nothing new, nothing for his addled mind to latch onto or puzzle over. In that indescribable amount of time, Catch found his fingers in his mouth again, and tasted fresh blood to match the metallic old. His fingers were terrible to look at, yet he did, and his ruined hands gave him a strange, itching idea, one that - for once - dampened the chattering voices all around.

Carefully, his bloody, knuckle-bared hands pulled to his chest, catch chewed on the strong, wooden frame of his cot. Yes. Yes, this felt good. The nightmare slipped away as his jaw worked, as his powerful teeth left indentations, cracked the wood, left globs of slick drool behind.

His body moved without his mind, and Catch could not say when his mind slipped away from him, floating through the crack in his skull to watch him as he tore about the cell like an animal, making no noise save the noise that came from his teeth. He chewed the cot to pieces, and chewed the plants as well. When he had nothing left to chew, Catch gnawed on his hands again, his arms, in a wild frenzy of activity, a release of energies that were used to chopping wood, to running free in the forest at all-hours.

And he attacked those bars, though it pained him to slip his teeth around them, froth and saliva slicking his jaws, his chin, his eyes gone to a mad and wild place. He felt their sharp, little teeth cracking to pieces under his, heard their sudden screams of dismay. He chewed and chewed, tried to destroy them all, because like himself, they could not flee.
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Postby Caile » Thu Jan 26, 2012 1:41 pm

Catch was concering the constables that had been left to watch while Renea was off on her meeting. He was screaming and gnawing and having destroyed everything in the cell was now working on gnawing his way out through the bars themselves. They'd heard many stories of Catch and rumours, and they weren't entirely certain that the bars would hold him. After a game of long straw to see who would get to run for the Marshall while the others would have to stay behind in case Catch would be able to break loose.

Of course, even the man who won and would deliver the message was tense, unsure how Renea would react to such news, she was still an unknown quantity. She was also with the new Governer and no one wanted to interupt him, but this was a crisis. So the constable was sent off after Renea, hoping to catch up with her before the prisoner escaped.
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Postby BetaFlame » Fri Jan 27, 2012 12:08 pm

"Tha hells?"

Oh, he had gotten his sister's note. And when he got to the place, he was totally shocked by what he found. The rather large man in the cell.. was eating everything. Literally, gnawing on the bars. But more than that, the man made every hair on the back of his neck stand. Everything warned him to run. He took a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves, but they wouldn't. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run away. Flee, and never come back. Not just run from the cell, but run.. and keep running. Don't look back.

He was afraid. And Beta could not remember the last time he had been afraid.

"What are you?" He half whispered to himself. The.. creature in the cell. Not human. He could tell that. Not even the most insane human could create a response like this in him. He slipped into the stream of his magic, finding some comfort in the music of it, the feel of it flowing around him. He wanted Catch dead and gone. But.. Renea. And Rielle. Damn. He fled deeper and deeper into the magic, letting it pull at him, tug at him. The familiar sensations a comfort in and of themselves.

Outwardly, his one good eye blazed a bright blue, like a single star in the dark of the prison. Blue lights played along his skin. He was deep in it now. But, Renea had asked him to put the.. thing to sleep. And so he would try at least. His hands lift and he concentrates.. and lets the song overtake him. It rushes up and over, reaching through his mind. Magic itself, learning what he wants, and shaping to his will. The casting a thing of art to behold. He was magic.

The spell he formed was more than a simple sleep. That would have been to much. No, this thing could not be allowed to dream. He steps forward to the cell and reaches out to grab Catch by his head while he gnaws at the bars, and assuming he doesn't move away, he would essentially freeze him in time for a few hours. Long enough for Renea to finish her business.

Of course, things so rarely go according to Beta's plans.
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Postby catch » Fri Jan 27, 2012 12:37 pm

Whatever trance had gripped him, what reverie prevented him from hearing the frantic whispers and booted feet of guardsmen, it popped like a long, slow, bloody bubble from a wound. Spoke to him, speaking to him. That was all he wanted, thought it was a need that had lain, dormant and lost, in his broken mind. He needed the distraction from wicked voices and the crushing, slow realization that he has done something terrible and wicked.

Catch moved his head only a little to look at the Man was before him, his mismatched eyes wide, dull, confused. He is only vaguely aware of a cracked tooth, a chipped one, the pain of splinters and self-inflicted bites that littered his bloodied, froth-flecked lips and cheeks. Blue, like Miss Niall. Only it did not taste the same, this Blueness. Catch felt the fingers in his hair, gripping, not-gentle but not over harsh.

The addled man licked his lips, showing, too, that he has bitten that in his zeal, and he, quite suddenly, laughs. Not his normal, nervous, hysteric-tinged giggle, but throaty, and hearty, a man's laugh that was not meant in mockery. And he still laughed, though the Man's spell took hold of him, binding him, and what was Time to Catch? He didn't understand it, even as it locked his limbs and shackled his mind. But it did not stop that strange laugh, and did not stop the way Catch peered at Beta, a sullen twitch of understanding and cunning marring his typical, dull countenance.
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Postby BetaFlame » Fri Jan 27, 2012 4:25 pm

Beta takes a deep inhaled breath. What was it about this man that inspired such... terror? It took all his will power to contain himself. And something.. about being near him pulled at his mind. Made him want to embrace his power, lash out at this around him. He could see it in his mind. He knew he could lay waste to this nothing of a country side. Buildings burning, people screaming, and himself floating in the aura, sheathed and bathed in an aura of magic, lashing ou--

He shook his head quickly, pulling himself out of the vision. He stared at Catch for a little while long, then looked to the guards. "That'll hold him for a few hours. Hopefully Renea will return before then. If not, send for me in two hours, and I will renew the spell."

With that, he turned sharply on his heel and made for home. He could feel the sweat running down his back.. but he could not shake the vision of the chaos and destruction he could cause...
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Postby Caile » Sat Jan 28, 2012 4:28 pm

Renea had come back to the cells as quickly as she could manage after her meeting with Glenn and the rest of the committee. She was concerned about Catch and even though she was sure Beta would have been able to do something she still felt a responsibility to be there. She was the one that put Catch in that cell after all, and it was up to her to make sure he was safe in that cell. She was still convinced there was a way to keep Myrken safe from him while keeping him safe as well, though the gods alone knew what that was.

So it was that she came bursting into the gaol, much to the guards relief, and made her way towards the bars that were keeping the madman at bay. While the large man was still incapacitated Renea quickly had everything removed from the cell and replaced what she could. She took the time also to bandage the self-inflicted wounds creating what amounted to Gauze Paws and once all of that was finished she sat quietly and waited for Catch to regain consciousness hoping desperately she'd be able to keep him calm.
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Postby catch » Sat Jan 28, 2012 5:14 pm

There was possibility of confusion, of Catch not understanding why hours had flickered by, how he could not remember those hours, why his muscles ached and burned. But he was used to this. he was used to losing those times, having them slip beyond his fingers and disappear down the worm-paths. And there are fresh scents, new-plants, another grand, comfortable little cot, so that Catch's true worry is wondering why his hands are bound, swathed in gauze, and why they ache so terribly.

He turns, slowly, floundering upwards from the haze, pawing at his mouth in an effort to feel why his lips and tongue throb. His fingers did not work, were clumsy and bound. They did not penetrate the wrappings. Catch looks at them, arms and wrists and hands bound by soft, earthly clouds, his fingers hidden in their cool, comforting mass. He frowns, his mismatched eyes wandering over to Renea.

There is nothing for him to say. Catch smiles at her, a toothy grin that is painful, but he could endure the pain, just as he endured the cell and the muted mutterings of the iron bars. He tries to rub his wrists together to free his hands, but the clouds only scrape together ineffectually, smelling of apples.

"Can I go now?" Catch asks, softly, bothered by the gentle bandages, though he could not say why. He is hopeful. He has been good. He has said that he was sorry so many times, and all his shattered brains yearned for the freedom, for the feel of snow and winter's grass beneath his feet. He does not ask about the stars, because he does not want anyone to think he is mad. But they need to come out. He needs to come out. Catch rubs the bandages again, then lifts them to his mouth, trying to tear with his sore, battered teeth.
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Elliot in... Scared Straight?

Postby Glenn » Mon Jan 30, 2012 2:37 am

The boy had responsibilities. He shirked them, a lot. He left home under the guise of helping his family, of being one less mouth to feed back during the last terrible drought a few years ago. He was still living with the few remaining knights and squires but he barely interacted with them anymore. Niall, his best friend and the scarred powerhouse's only real tie, he'd not spoken a word to in months over some hissy fit or another.

Yet here he was, walking up outside the cell. His clothes were dark, but not so much so that he stood out. The whole point (whether he understood that or not) was that he didn't stand out in the least. His body had changed dramatically over the last few months. He had been bulky, now he was lithe. Some of this was yet another growth spurt. Most, however, was a dramatic change in training, during the age where a young man's body was still developing on a near daily basis. He went from looking a brawny young squire to having an almost thin (though still quite athletic), tall, and lanky look to him.

Catch was a responsibility too. No one GAVE it to him, but he couldn't deny it. There was a tinge of guilt in his stomach everytime the large man did something wrong. He couldn't always be there, but he wasn't there much at all anymore. He was so engrossed with his new 'studies,' with the unexpected and precious time he had with Lady Solena that everything else had just fallen aside. But if HAD been there, then maybe he could have talked Catch out of it all, found something else to do, kept the bad people from him. He just needed something to keep him busy. Why didn't anyone understand that?

"Can he?" Noises traveled in the gaol. He had heard Catch's question, yet his own approach, given to his rather light form and increasing training, had been astoundingly quiet. "And if he can't," It was a boy of fourteen or fifteen who stared through those bars at Renea. "What are you going to do to him?" Then, with a little pause he looked up at Catch. "Hey. Stop chewing at that." The teenager's tone was the most matter-of-fact thing in the world, familiar as anything. An apple was lobbed softly through the bars towards the wild man. He wasn't the best at catching things, so best to aim towards his foot, and lightly at that. Maybe he should have made applesauce for him instead, but that would have just led to a mess. Then, to Renea again. "And what are you doing in there with him?" It had been a number of weeks since he told her a bit about the lay of the land in Myrken. Just how had she ended up in a cell with Catch of all people.
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Postby Caile » Mon Jan 30, 2012 11:36 am

Renea was tired, and heartbroken and at a complete loss as to what the best choice of action was. His attempt to free himself or, failing that, hurt himself had done its own damage to her heart and though she knew herself partially responsible for his current incarceration it wasn't a decision she could unmake. If Catch were freed then he would be a danger to others, and would be in danger himself. He couldn't be watched every moment of the day and even if he could, trying to control the big man was a constant struggle. She didn't know how to fix this situation but had been assured it was being looked into.

So when questioned by both Catch and now young Elliot she sighed softly and shook her head. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but no you can't go now. Leave the bandages be Catch, you hurt your hands and they're going to make them better, you can pretend they're kitten paws."

She turned to look at Elliot now, recognizing him from a handful of conversations but not knowing him well. She knew he cared for the madman though and that made them allies of a sort. "Hello Elliot. No, he can't go it's not safe for him out there anymore. Right now we're keeping him in here so he can't get into trouble, and so no one can hurt him." She smiled at the toss of the apple and leaned her head back against the stone wall. She was sitting with her knees up and spread and arms resting atop her knees.

"Why am I in here with him? He seems calmer with me here and I try to keep him as happy as I can but it's getting harder. The bars whisper to him and I don't know how to make them stop. I'm responsible for him, and responsible for him being here. He shouldn't have to be here but, well he can't help it can he? It's like bringing a wolf into the house and then blaming the wolf for hurting the family. Catch has been invited into the town, he's made friends and bonds but he doesn't know right from wrong the way we do." She shrugged quietly, toying with a bit of branch that she had picked up from the cell floor.
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Postby catch » Mon Jan 30, 2012 1:49 pm

The heartbreak at Renea's answer could be soothed. Could be forgotten. It split him like a soured, soft apple, nothing of the sort that Elliot passes through the bars, bouncing once in feeble protest before it softly bumps against Catch's bare toes. The addled man would stoop to grab it, thought his hands were bound, and it slipped again and again until the addled man got the trick of mashing it between his clumsy paws.

Elliot helped. The apple helped. Even Renea helped, though there were hateful things coming from her mouth, dribbling and foul things that only made the iron bars titter in response, a rippling of fresh antagonism. Catch held the apple in his hands, but he was not looking at it, nor at Ser Elliot, but at Renea. That look, perhaps, was the warning, for it was thunderous, inscrutable, cunning, everything that Catch, typically, was not.

He wanted to say things. That he was a man, and not a child, that he wasn't mad or uncontrolled. That he didn't have a wolf. She spoke as if he were not here, as if he was a nothing, a burden, a wicked thing that will soon be taken care of.

In the enclosed space, all Catch had to do was twist, duck, offer his broad shoulder to the fighter-woman, and thrust. He did not understand his own strength, only that he wanted to be spoken to, not of, that he was a man. Confused, maybe. Out of his head sometimes, perhaps. But he wasn't a wolf. He wasn't The Wolf. But the ferocity of the butt would be an attack.
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Postby Glenn » Tue Jan 31, 2012 2:00 am

"A wolf." Elliot stared at her. He just stared. She was new. She didn't understand ANYTHING. They always came in and marched around like they owned the place, like they had ALL the answers, like Myrken was theirs and like they belonged to Myrken. The boy had been cheerful enough on his approach, but now, he was staring at her like she had two heads. Two heads and neither of them had proper sense.

Finally, slowly, he spoke again, as if talking to a child or someone who didn't understand the language. He didn't care what position she had (and how had she even gotten a position so quickly? That's not how it worked around here!). She didn't know anything. "He's not like that. This is a STUPID answer. You can't just keep him here. And you being in there doesn't help anything. He's not a wolf. He's PART of the family. Don't you tell me about.." The boy was becoming more brazen. Lady Rhaena he couldn't speak to, but he didn't care how old this woman was, how many fights she'd been in. She hadn't had to burn her mostly dead on the battlefield and she didn't know Myrken. She didn't know Catch. Intentions didn't matter here. It all went bad in the end, and so would she. Mad, hated, twisted. Myrken changed everyone, but to those who weren't born there, to those who wished to do good? Those people were changed the worst.

"You don't know ANYTH..." But now Catch was moving, oozing forth with that tremendous strength and momentum, as if proving the boy's point. And with bars between him them, there was nothing Elliot could do but watch.
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Postby Caile » Tue Jan 31, 2012 8:30 am

"Me being in here does help Elliot, you didn't see what happened when I left." She'd been about to explain more but Catch had moved. It may have been sudden but it wasn't unexpected. At this time, with this man, nothing was unexpected anymore and Renea was prepared for any sort of attack. That wasn't to say that, expecting she may be, she was able to do anything to stop it if it happened and this was once of those instances she couldn't stop. Sitting on the floor as she was she took the shoulder check full into torso. Strong as he was, frustrated and angry and scared and now feeling ignored the weight behind that attack was enough to break bones, crushing her between the unforgiving stone and the unforgiving Catch. Ribs buckled and then cracked, fracturing at the impact, luckily not breaking fully, and the wind was knocked from the womans chest causing a sick weezing gasping sound as her body desperately tried to pull in some oxygen.

Pain flared from her chest and her vision went black, fully of sparkling things like fireworks but all in white, she could still hear so she hadn't passed out but the sudden deprivation of oxygen to her brain had cause a black out in her vision that wouldn't return until she could again breath. She flailed at the man crushing her with weakened hands, trying to push him away from her so her lungs could expand again.
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Postby catch » Tue Jan 31, 2012 12:56 pm

As soon as the attack had begin, it had stopped, and Catch pressed no more against Renea as she lashed, blindly, catching his chin and his meat-slab of his shoulder, and he twisted away. He had only wanted her to see him. Wanted her to speak to him, as if he were there, as if he mattered, and wasn't a Thing to be discussed, hunters bickering over gasping prey. The addled man squatted on his heels, rocking himself back and forth, and his wrapped hands jut out awkwardly across his knees. Like a knobby fawn. Or crooked trees.

"I'm n-n-not a wolf," he breathes, choking on the words in a rasp that was, more than the attack itself, so uncharacteristic. He is not betrayed, but he is hurt, and confused, and it shows in his eyes and the plaintive thrum of his voice. His eyes flicker to Elliot, and Catch is even more hurt. "Or a squid. You p-p-promised. You said, everyone g-goes out of their heads, sometimes. You. Said. And I'm n-n-nuh-not. I'm in my head, and I duh-don't want clouds on my hand, and. And. Thu-this apple is v-very nice."


In that rush of words, Catch sunk further and further into himself, and at the end, he tucks his chin against his chest, slowly passing the clumsy bulk of his hands over the slightly-bruised thing, oblivious to Renea's hurts, or what he has truly done to her.
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Postby Glenn » Tue Jan 31, 2012 1:29 pm

"Renea." The word was surprisingly calm considering what he just saw. She was all but keeled over. Catch was SO big, and SO strong. It didn't take much for him to crush someone completely. He had watched helplessly before, on the wrong side of the bars. There had been nothing at all he could do. He had just stared, not even able to scream. Now, though.. now there was a moment. And what a moment.

"Renea." He repeated, staring at them. "Toss me the keys. I'm a squire." She had known that right? A daring, responsible swordswoman like her. He was a squire. Trustworthy, loyal. He was the very sort of lad, just into his teenager years, that would help her put her armor on, if it came to real battle, that would follow her, that would carry her shield. If her life might have flashed before her eyes, well, maybe she'd see that in her future, a fine apprenticeship for a boy like Elliot, second to the Marshall, and a loyal arm at her side in years to come.

"Renea." A third repetition, this time, with a little more urgency. She was helpless before Catch after all. And he could turn again at a moment's notice. "Toss me the keys." All earnestness. Then, to cap it off. "Quickly."
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Postby Caile » Tue Jan 31, 2012 1:44 pm

"You're...Sole..na's apprentice." She spoke between gasped breaths, her arms clutching her chest against the pain. Her eyes were watering mightily and her chest felt like it was on fire but she was slowly able to start pulling breath deeper and deeper into her lungs, wincing painfully. To Catch she turns and reaches out a hand, not quite able to touch him but the effort was made.

"No Catch, you..you aren't a..wolf." Still the breath coming in parts and pieces but she seems to be doing better. "It was a bad analogy, I didn't mean it..in a real way. Everyone goes out of their heads sometimes." She took a long breath, as deep as she could manage with her fractured ribs and let it out slowly, then took another, and again another until she felt she had regained some equilibrium.

"I'll be fine Elliot, it was my own fault." To Catch she turned again, shuffling her way over to where he had curled into himself. "Catch, I'm sorry for what I said, I'm not always good with words and sometimes it's hard to describe what I see in my head and it doesn't always come out right." She hoped he could understand that last bit at least, Trying to explain a metaphor or an analogy seemed to be too much work for her right now.
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