Slave Trade

"Take it easy, Kira." Allen said, sitting beside her and gently sticking the needle in her arm, injecting the morphine. He pulled the needle out again and tossed it in the sharps box, waiting a few minutes for the morphine to kick in. "Look." He held his forearm out to her, showing her the stitching he'd only just done before breakfast. With his own needle and thread at that. "I'm not going to screw this up, I've been fixing myself since I was six, when I could actually hold a needle. When I was seven, I had more than enough chances to practice because of the ring fights."
 
After the incident with his instructor was over Gin decided he would head to the library for some light reading. He wondered if there was something he could find out about Haden Noir. After several minutes of walking it became abundantly clear that he was quite lost. He turned around and backtracked. Unknowingly taking more wrong turns and eventually ending up more hopelessly lost than he was before. As Gin walked he seemed to pass less and less people until eventually he was all alone in some abandoned sector of the base. The lights were dimmer and less maintained, the carpet was old and rough, and the wall paper was peeling. Something wasn't right about this.. An eerie feeling crept into the air, and it seemed to grow cold. It was getting colder! Gin could now see his breathe in front of him. He quickened his pace panic beginning to set in. The lights began to dim further. He stopped to collect himself, there was foul play at work here. Gin drew a deep breathe and focused his mind. He closed his eyes and spread out the probing fingers of his mind. He could feel the temperature currents. They weren't natural, if the air was cold on its own it would be shifting and constantly changing, but this cold was stemming from one spot. He probed further, someone had reduced the gas flow to the lanterns. Some one was playing with him. Gin thought back to just earlier, when his instructor hit him: Lesson 1: Don't let your guard down.


It had to be Haden. Gin opened his eyes and followed the source of the chill. Left,, left, right, left, right, right, left. At the epicenter of the chill there was a business card on the floor. Gin looked at it.


'Look up'


His eyes widened, Gin did not look up, he already knew what was coming so he swiftly dived forward, rolled and met Haden who had dropped down on the spot where the card was.


"Not bad." Haden smirked. "Took you a while to catch on though." Haden snapped his fingers and the hall erupted with its previous warmth. It was as if the breathe of life was blown through the hall, one by one the laterns grew bright, the wall paper was fresh again, and the carpet was once more vibrant.


"How di-" Gin began to ask but Haden cut him of again.


"Those with our mental capacity can manipulate anothers perception of reality. See?" He pointed to a room down the hall. It was the infirmary, he had never been lost.


"It takes quite some time to master though. Remember, stay on your toes." Haden chuckled and paced away. What an odd character.
 
"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one getting sewed up," Kira chuckled in reply, though she did release her grip some on the edge of the cot at his assuring words. Her blue wings fluttered a bit behind her before she tucked them close to her back and she breathed deeply, coming to a more relaxed state. Allen showed her his brilliant handiwork on his own arm, which also managed to calm her nerves. A few fluttering butterflies remained in her stomach, but for the most part, she calmed down. She had been busy focusing on his words, when she suddenly felt a prick in her arm. She automatically uttered a soft "Ow!", however, it was more out of surprise than actual pain. For not usually numbing before stitching, Allen pressed the needle into her skin with tenderness and skill, withdrawing it just as gently. It wasn't long before her arm and shoulder began to tingle before quickly going numb. "My arm feels like it's been pumped full of air," she remarked comically, tilting her head to the side and trying to remain relaxed as Allen prepared the needle and surgical stitching material.
 
Allen chuckled softly, still monotone. "Well, guess that means it worked. Now, hold still." He lifted the needle and thread lightly, pausing a moment to say, "Tell me...about your parents. What are they like?" He was curious, having never had parents of his own, but he wanted to keep her mind off the stitching too. Slowly, precisely, and gently he started stitching up the laceration. It wasn't deep, but it was a tad long; but one thing of thread would be plenty long enough.
 
Kira watched anxiously, but as Allen slowly punctured her skin with the sewing needle, she had to look away and try to get her mind elsewhere. She almost sighed in relief as Allen gave her a distraction, asking about her parents. "Well...there isn't too much to tell out of the ordinary, besides me being an Aviate. My mother and father met at the local fair near where they lived. My father ran one of those cheesy dunking stations, and my mother hit the target spot on, sending him into the water. Everything seemed to take off after that. Soon after they had me, but no more children after; I never had any brothers or sisters," she began, remembering how her mother had told her over and over the story of how she met Kira's father.


"When I was about four, my wings began growing in. At first, I was afraid to tell them of the little feathery growths between my shoulder blades, but my father soon found out. I guess...I realize why now. If he was the lead geneticist with the A.A.R., he'd probably been looking for signs of mutation in me. That job at the fair where he met my mother must have been a cover up for his real research," she deduced, sorting things out for herself as well as telling Allen her story, "I'd always wonder why he was home late sometimes. Once, I even found a stack of papers on his desk with A.A.R.'s symbol stamped on it. I never really thought anything of it, not knowing of A.A.R. Though, I do understand why he never told me; he wanted to keep me safe. The less I knew...the less of a threat I was to the government."


Shaking her head, Kira realized she was sidetracking away from Allen's original question about her parents. She cleared her throat then continued. "Even though I was obviously different, my parents never rejected me. My father even encouraged me to fly, studying the internal structure of my wings so he could teach me how to use them properly. By the time I was twelve, I could glide short distances. When I was sixteen, my wings had almost fully matured and I could lift high distances into the air for long periods of time. Of course, my mother was always scared that someone would see me out flying, so I practiced at night, way out in the countryside, but I couldn't stop her from worrying. I...I guess she was right in the long run..."


Slowly, Kira lifted her violet eyes to look at Allen's face, her expression gentle. "Did...you ever know your parents?" she asked quietly, hoping he wasn't offended by the question.
 
Allen paused, lowering his eyes for a moment before looking back at the laceration and continuing. "I never knew them. When a Aviate is born in the cages, they're allowed to only stay for a week with the mother." He closed his eyes, trying to remember anything from before he was two, when his first memory was. Nothing, just a black void. "After that week, the child is ripped from the mother's grasping arms. Plenty of screaming, from mother and child."


He continued stitching, thinking back as far as he could. "An Aviate that I fought, older by a year, he knew my mother and father...They weren't fighters, just breeders. No telling how many siblings I may have, but the Aviate said both had been killed. No longer useful." He started back stitching, to give the cut a firm hold. He took a deep breath, forcing his emotions away.


Allen spoke again, softer this time. "I can't remember my mother's face, her voice, anything...My father never even saw me..." He shook his head, double checking his own work. "When an Aviate is born in those cages, their parents are their owners, their tormentors, the beaters; their disobedience gets them beaten or killed, they'renever taught anything beside what they're bred for."


He finished the stitching and tied off the string before cutting it free. He started cleaning off the last of the blood while continuing. "I got lucky. I wasn't bred to fight, but serve. I was taught to read and write, was taught to stitch wounds and gather information from other human owners. It wasn't till I was seven and my master decided to bet my life in a fight that they discovered my gift. That I discovered my gift."


He finished cleaning and tossed the rag in a nearby trash bin, tossing the sewing needle in the sharps bin. But he didn't stand. He just sat, elbows on his knees, hands held before him in a fist against his lips. He muttered, "I don't remember my parents. I don't even remember my mother screaming my name as I was pulled away. But I know she did. Because that's what the jailers called me. Allen. I gave myself the last name MacArthur."
 
Kira's eyes started to glaze over with tears once again as Allen relayed his tragic past. It was so horrible...how much torture his parents must have endured just having their newborn child ripped away from them. Kira clenched her eyes shut, trying to keep back the tears. She could still hear her own mother's scream as Kira was thrown to the ground and knocked out in her very own home. Her father had done all he could but she had been knocked unconscious so early on, she wasn't able to see what had happened to them. She did; however, remember the fire. The thick, black smoke stinging her eyes and filling her lungs, depriving them of oxygen.


"I-I...I'm so sorry to hear that....," Kira whispered, her vocal chords so choked with emotion she could barely make a sound. It had only been three days since she was taken from her parents...from the peaceful life she knew. "I know now...that my father was captured. T-they...they need him alive, but I'm...I'm so afraid for my mother. What did they do to her? She was no scientist, just a nurturing, loving woman," she murmured, a tear sliding down her cheek, "But if they are both still alive, I promise you, they will take care of you. There is no doubt in my mind that they would welcome you to stay with us, wherever that may be, however long you feel comfortable."


Hesitantly reaching out, the blue-winged Aviate gently laid her hand over Allen's fist, squeezing it firmly. "It won't replace what you lost so long ago...but maybe it can give you a light, show you that there are always possibilities of great things to happen in the future," she assured him confidently, "There is always hope..."
 
Allen didn't flinch away. He didn't tense up. He refused to. He was tired of being unsure of every touch. Slowly, he put his free hand over her's, holding it gently in both of his. "If I know those humans, and I do, they're using your mother to make your father obey. They threaten her, it's like cracking an unseen whip. They'll keep her alive to make your father obey...and we'll get them both back, I swear."


Allen paused again, eyes closing. He didn't know how he could live with people he never met, but it would be better than trying to live in a world that he didn't understand yet. he didn't trust humans, never fully would he was sure, but maybe Kira's parents could be a start. "I don't believe in hope, Kira. Everything I ever had, I fought for. Hope? I learned that hope only caused me pain. So I stopped hoping and started fighting. I never stopped...but you can hope for me. Maybe that'll be enough." He gave her a half-smile, monotone, but still it was there. "And maybe one day I'll relearn how to live, trust...but it'll take time. And I'm pretty sure I'll need help. The only thing I know is cages and fighting."
 
Kira gripped Allen's hand tightly, but no overbearingly so, as he placed his other hand over hers. Nodding, she wouldn't interrupt or try to change his mind about hope, but just listen, taking in every word he said. She gave him a soft smile in return, as she seemed to have raised his spirits, if only slightly. "One good thing is there's always room to learn. If that big brain up there is smart enough to calm me down enough to sew up my shoulder, then it's smart enough to learn that the world doesn't revolve around cages and fighting. There's so much more...you just have to have an open mind," she ensured him, looking into his eyes, "I guarantee it. I'll even help you myself."


Glancing over at her shoulder, Kira admired his work. He had done a fantastic job; the stitches were tight and neat, allowing less room for infection to get in. "It looks great. Thank you, Allen," she told him, using her free hand's fingers to trace over the wound. "We should probably wrap it in gauze to keep it from getting infected, you know, since training starts first thing tomorrow," she suggested, turning her head back to face him.
 
Allen met her gaze, fighting the emotions trying to rise. Not here, not now. He knew he wasn't ready. But he gave her a soft smile, "Th...thanks Kira...I'll need the help..." He looked at the shoulder. He'd never wrapped his wounds before, but then again, his immune system had a much higher tollerance than most. Her's probably would be an infection to come. Gently, he reached to the bedside table for the gauze and started to wrap her shoulder. He ripped the gauze and taped it down, "Feel snug?"
 
Kira moved her arm around in a circle, then nodded. "Yep, feels good to me. And you're welcome..." she replied softly, tilting her head to the side and smiling before sliding off the cot. She rotated her shoulder a few more times to test out the stitching and finding it good, she turned to Allen and placed one hand on her hip, extending the other to help him up. "Come on. I'm curious to see where our rooms are. Not to mention I'm bushed," she chuckled.


If he agreed and stood, Kira would turn and head towards the door at a brisk pace, though not too fast not wanting to have a super sore shoulder to wake up to the next morning. Peeking her head out, she spotted Gin not too far away, looking quite puzzled. "You ok there, Gin?" she called out, stepping into the hallway, "You look a bit confused. Oh, and hey, do you happen to know where our rooms are? It's getting late and it'd be nice to know where we're staying."
 
Allen smirked softly, taking her hand and letting her help him up. He was slowly getting used to all this. And talking seemed to help, though when he did his emotions fought hard to resurface. He couldn't allow that. But he was making progress in his mind. Normally, he would have hated being under a roof; now, he just had a slight resentment for it. He followed Kira out, thinking. This place had plenty of rooms, but he was curios to see his own. And see where the others were.
 
Emily looked around, wondering where the person was that was going to show them to their rooms. Gin had been walking around for awhile and she didn't know where he'd gone, and Kira and Allen were absent as well. Shesimply waited where she was, hoping that someone would return to show the rest of them to their rooms. She hoped their was a decent bed, but wasn't going to hope too much. Although anything would be better than the metal floor of the plane or the cold stone of their cave hideaway. She was still standing there, holding her assigned uniform, looking around like a lost puppy.
 
Kira's watchful eye caught a slight movement off to the side and she turned her head, spotting Emily farther down the hall. "Emily, over here!" she spoke up, waving her good arm so the other blue-winged Aviate would see. Emily had that lost look in her eye and Kira was glad she'd found her. Otherwise, she might have gotten lost, being all alone like that. "You ok?" she asked, still a bit worried about her friend, "How's your wing?" Walking partly around Emily, she examined where the bullet wound had once been with her eyes. It looked completely healed, but Kira just wanted to be sure. "By the way, how was your talk with the nurse? Did you learn anything new yet?" she asked curiously.
 
Emily heard someone calling and turned to see Kira, standing with Gin and Allen. She walked over and watched as Kira inspected her wing. Once she was satisfied, she asked about Emily's instructor. "Oh, yeah..." Emily said, still stuck on the nurse's words from earlier. "I guess... Umm..." Looking at Kira and the others, she didn't want to say anything that might make them worry. She couldn't tell them that her healing might kill her if used too much. They had their own training to focus on, and they didn't need to be concerned about hers. "Yeah, cool thing, my wings will turn white with the more people I heal." She forced a small smile.
 
[Oh man I remember this rp... I miss it so much! It was going so well!! 8 - 8 I wish we could continue it...]
 
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