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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 17, 2011 23:31:01 GMT -5
Daniel took a long puff before flicking away the ash and tossing the cigarette to the side, not bothering to crush it out with his foot. The alley kept half of his face in shadow as he glanced at his companion, brown gaze critical. "You wanna do it?" He and James were a few of the only original members left—members of a gang that had once had at least moderate standing on the streets of Maple Hollow. Their collective downfall had been brought about by a number of factors and situations but a certain ex-member had certainly not done them any good. "We didn't even get a name," replied James distastefully, rolling his eyes and lighting up a smoke of his own. He took it between his lips and inhaled deeply, expelling a toxic cloud before continuing. "How are we s'posed to go off that?" He certainly didn't seem in the best of moods judging by the scowl on his lips. "Didn't get an address, either." He fantasized momentarily about showing up to the residence of the guy and firing a few bullets off but knew that it would not work out quite like that. "That old prick seemed to hate him. Wonder why he wouldn't give us anythin'?"
"Cause it's not him he wants us to mess with, James," said Daniel with impatience. "It's his girlfriend, whatever the fuck he said her name was." He narrowed his eyes as he tried to think, shrugging it off when he came up with nothing. Her name didn't matter, the only thing that he cared about was that it would be effectively giving their 'old friend' the finger in the best way they knew how. "He lives with the bitch, doesn't he? Why don't we fuck them both up?" Jay had always had a bit of a taste for violence, making it rather difficult to bring him along for anything that required keeping a low profile. Not that they'd cared about laying low way back when there had been a whole group to hide behind, but they didn't have that now. There wasn't even a gang any more, just a pair of guys sticking to the only ways they knew. "Bastard deserves it, you know he does." He spat on the ground and discarded his half-finished cigarette. "Whatever, man, let's just do it."
Making only a few stops to get a couple packs of smokes and a case of beer on their way, James and Daniel made their way to the part of town that they'd been told the girl in question lived. They hadn't been given a specific address and so they decided to merely drive around the roads and keep an eye out. It wasn't like they had anything better to do. "Don't do anything stupid," Daniel coached his friend as they got out of the car, glancing around the mostly deserted street. They were a couple of blocks from the apartment because they'd cruised around for a while and spotted their target walking alone—possibly back to her residence? They'd took a few back roads to get ahead and cut her off. The pair hadn't really cultivated a plan in going out that night, merely deciding that they would terrorize the girl a little in hopes of a little fun. Assholes though the two of them were, their motives were not sexual.
Approaching the girl from behind, it was James who spoke first. "Well, don't you look a little lonely," he sneered. "Want company?" Daniel stepped alongside her so that he could easily cut off any sort of escape route if she tried to run off, but neither of them did anything just yet. "Where's your boyfriend at?" Daniel, the smarter of the two though he was, couldn't resist slipping the taunting question into the mixture. "Doesn't look like he's here to help you, does it? What a shame. These streets are a dangerous place."
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Post by NELL DOE DALE on Dec 18, 2011 1:13:34 GMT -5
After spending the day at the mall with her friends, Nell could say she was pretty exhausted. Even more so than usual. It’s easier, she told herself. It’s getting easier. The exhaustion is normal. That was true. Walking around the mall all day could certainly wear a girl out. The three of them not wanting to go home yet—Phoebs was having problems with her father—they decided to stop at Burger King. For appearances, Nell got the two Whoppers she usually ate, and at least she could get them down with little to no trouble. In any case, it felt good to be sitting and hanging out with some friends. It was comfortable, safe. She almost smiled at the thought. She could be safe now. Nell took a fry from her friend’s basket, and was sent an accusatory glare. ”Dude,” Angie said. She shot her a smile, the fry sticking out of her mouth. ”Sir?” She received a friendly gab in the gut, and didn’t try to steal another. She could do this, stay out later and enjoy the time she spent with her buddies. She didn’t even need to coach herself into doing these things anymore.
Figuring they might as well get home, not wanting Phoebe to get into anymore trouble with her dad, they headed out to the parking lot. Nell shivered on instinct and tugged the belt tighter around her waist. ”Do you want me to drop you off, Nelly?” Phoebe asked, and Nell shook her head. She did like the other girl’s car, a Lincoln. They were usually hideous, but it was custom thanks to her faththe black was nice, and she had to tell this to Phoebe. ”Nah, you gotta take Ang home, it’s out of your way.” She waved her hand to further emphasize the fact that she was okay with walking. Nell didn’t live too far away, and she wasn’t so tired that she’d put her friend out like that. Especially because Phoebe made her passengers pay for gas, not that Nell was especially tight on money. The job at the daycare wasn’t phenomenal pay, and it wasn’t quite as much as Blackjack, but it was enough to get by. ”You sure?” Angie said, and Nell nodded as she waved her fingers at the girls. ”See ya,” she called to them as she walked off, listening to them
It may have been a stupid idea to walk through downtown alone so late, but she was used to that kind of thing. Nothing bad had come of it yet, and so she wasn’t deterred by the idea. Until—that is—she was flanked by two strange guys. She turned to look at the one who spoke and cast him a smile. ”No, I’m good, thanks,” Nell said, ever-so politely declining the unwanted company. She wasn’t so paranoid that she believed every person to approach her in an unsafe part of town was out to get her, but she was still on her guard. She may have been naïve, but she wasn’t so dumb as to think that every stranger had the best of intentions for her. Still, she wasn’t going to get defensive and antsy just yet. And even if she did get bothered by these two strangers, she wasn’t going to let it show. You’re getting ahead of yourself, her mind scolded her as she scratched behind her ear, her posture easy-going.
However, Nell bristled when she heard the question, but instantly laughed it off. Oh great, that's an innocent question. She felt an uneasiness in her stomach, but she replied coolly. ”And how do you know I have a boyfriend?” she asked the other guy, giving him a sideway glance. Okay, now she was suspicious and she felt like she had every right to be. Even though she was never taught the lessons of Stranger Danger, she knew that that wasn’t a question you ask a random chick walking home. She was even more put off by the second comment. Did that meant he had malicious intent? ”Rest assured, I can take care of myself,” she said with her slight smile, though it was slowly sliding off her face. She wasn’t amused at all, and she really just wanted to get home without any trouble from these guys. So Nell just continued walking, not making any move to pick up pace.
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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 18, 2011 12:09:35 GMT -5
James was a little surprised by the girl's lack of apparent fear, having expected something else. She didn't look the butch, tough type and so he had let his mind get ahead of him and assumed that she'd panic almost immediately after their approach. It irked him slightly when he didn't get the reaction that he wanted out of her but Daniel seemed to understand that, shooting his friend a silent look of warning. Jay set his jaw a little in frustration but resisted the urge to do anything rash. Much as it pissed him off, Dan was right. They were the only ones left and making stupid mistakes would ensure that they screwed themselves over, as well. They were only sticking their necks out as they were because the old man who'd tipped them off about the girl had also tipped them literally, offering cash to frighten her a little. Neither of them understood why, really, but when there was money involved neither cared. He mulled over possible responses to her polite decline but in the end held his tongue.
It was Daniel who smirked at her question, his brown eyes glittering with barely disguised malice. Though James was the more violent of the two, Dan's brother had been the shooter years previously. He was serving a life sentence in prison and thus Dan had several reasons to loathe Josh immensely, even if he didn't know his name. He considered trying to get it out of the girl but decided that it would be too obvious and that she'd never take the bait. She seemed a little more perceptive than he'd been expecting but he took that in stride. "He's an old friend," he replied, the smirk broadening. They'd never really been friends, not even when they'd been faking it. Now they were anything but. "You'll need to give him our regards," he said in a tone that mocked pleasantries. "I'm sure he'd understand." It pleased him to think of terrorizing this girl and somehow letting the prick know that it was his fault, albeit indirectly. He'd messed with Dan's family, this was just payback. He'd have liked to have done worse than just mess with her but murder, as his sibling had learned, was hardly tolerated.
"Tell him James says hello." This recieved a sharp warning glare from Daniel but Jay didn't seem too concerned with the fact that he'd just given out his name—his real name, no less, not even a nickname. Jay could have been a nickname for any name starting with the letter but he'd fucked up pretty bad there. "Ask him how that scar of his is doing." Jay laughed under his breath at the thought. "He ever tell you how he got that?" Unfortunately, Daniel was feeling more and more antsy by the second now that his friend had slipped up a little. He grabbed the girl's arm roughly, acting impulsively now. If they frightened her enough, would she have the sense to keep her mouth shut? It had sort of worked on her boyfriend, even though that had backfired severely in the end. "On second thought, you might want to keep your mouth shut about what you've heard, precious," he hissed. "It'd be better for all of us if you just pretended that you never ran into anyone tonight."
Of course, like always, Jay had no sense of sensibility. While his friend was still gripping the girl's arm in threat, James took the already-lit cigarette from between his lips and pressed the burning tip to her forearm, sneering as he did so. "I'm sorry, does that hurt?" The sympathy was clearly mocked. Daniel didn't approve of his friend's messing around but now he knew there was nothing either of them could do about it. The mark would be clear evidence judging by how rough James always was when it came to hurting other people. His mind went to the gun he had on his person—he hadn't expected to be using it tonight, but would it be a necessity?
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Post by NELL DOE DALE on Dec 18, 2011 15:45:17 GMT -5
Nell couldn’t keep the suspicion out of her expression when they one guy said that they were old friends of her boyfriend. Her mind didn’t instantly go to the gang, however, but she was now more unsure about the situation. Especially now that she could read the malice in their eyes. ”I will,” she said curtly, wanting the conversation between her and these guys to end. Shewould have asked from whom she’s giving her regards, but then he said his name and she didn’t miss the look that passed between them. Still, she couldn’t put an exact read on the situation at hand. If you ignore them, they’ll go away. At least, that’s what she was hoping. She had a feeling that these guys weren’t old friends with Josh, and that worried her. Still, she kept her wits about her. If she needed help, she had her phone. And she could scream, though she doubted how many people around her would respond to such a cry. Ignorance is the best policy, she thought, and that wasn’t the best thing to be aware of when one was being accompanied by two creeps.
The comment about the scar was a dead giveaway to who she was giving with, and it filled her with the fear that had been absent before. Shit, was her first thought upon realizing that she was in deeper shit than she first thought. They weren’t just two random thugs, they were members of the gang her boyfriend had once been a part of. She didn’t respond to that, feeling her heart thumping against her ribcage, the pain very physical. Oh, she knew how he got that scar, and she had to wonder whether the two she was dealing with now had helped in what happened to Josh. Along with the fear, there was a strong feeling of hate. She narrowed her eyes and instantly tried to pull back when the other guy pulled on her arm, saying in a firm voice, ”Let go of me,” as if she could be intimidating just by keeping the fear off of her face. She was nothing compared to these guys, though, and she panicked wondering if they were armed. No doubt they were. ”Changed your minds?” she asked, and the more sensical part of her brain told her to shut up. It was a dumbass move to be messing with these guys, but she couldn’t keep her mouth closed.
When the cigarette made contact with her skin, she let out a whimper and closed her eyes against the tears that the sharp, stinging pain had summoned. It was amazing how something so small could cause so much pain, as if her skin were on fire. Nell had experienced cigarette burns before, but the pain was always something intense, always near-crippling. Of course it hurt, and now she waws well-aware that these two meant business. Are they going to kill me? She didn’t even want to think like that, but she couldn’t keep her mind from going there. ”Let me go,” she said, her tone closer to begging now as she kept trying to wrench her arm away from the brown-eyed one’s grasp. It was as if she was reverting to a younger version of herself, and the pleas wer recalled from memory. Don’t touch me, don’t touch me… The voice in her head was pleading and terrified. ”I won’t snitch, I promise,” she told them. The circle on her skin stung like a bitch, and she was afraid that it was going to get infected and scar and she’d had too much knowledge of the effects. And if they didn’t let her go, it could be worse than a cigarette burn.
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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 18, 2011 17:05:03 GMT -5
Even though Daniel was more sensible than his friend, he too was irritated by the lack of fun they were having. She didn't seem all that afraid of them and was giving clipped answers to their questions and snide remarks, making it very hard to get a rise out of her. Deciding to taunt the girl a little more to give her an idea of what she was dealing with, he went off the fact that she didn't seem surprised by their comment on the scar. She certainly hadn't asked what they'd meant by it. Fine, he'd just drop hints. That would work, wouldn't it? "Gimme your knife,"
[/b] he requested roughly of James, who complied willingly enough. He didn't use it on her, merely held it up with his free hand. "You think we're fucking around?" he said. "I was the one who messed up his face—bastard deserves it for putting my brother in jail. I could hurt you, too, if I wanted." He didn't know whether or not he actually wanted to cause her serious injury. His attacks toward their ex-member had been provoked by the imprisonment of his brother. The old man hadn't asked them to kill her, just mess with her head a little. Surely this clarified, right? James didn't take too lightly to Nell's smart mouth—he stepped forward and hit her hard in the back of the head, expression foul. If he'd been an elemental he most definitely would have ended up as a Fire for his temper was incredibly easy to ignite. "Better watch what you say around us." Daniel knew that they had already overstepped their boundaries by laying a hand on her and so this time he didn't bother chastising his friend for it. He kept his grip tight on her arm, mostly because he wasn't sure what else to do. He feared that if he let go she was going to run from them. He had the gun, sure, but he wasn't so sure he was comfortable with murder. Brown eyes met light blue for a moment as he glanced to his companion. James would be capable, he knew. If things got too bad he knew he could count on his buddy not to hesitate, but their main problem wasn't hesitation—it was the cops. He wasn't so sure he could trust Jay not to take them both down together. The guy didn't want to serve a life sentence any more than the next guy. Least I'd get to see my brother again, thought Dan sarcastically. The blue-eyed boy laughed slightly when Nell whimpered, pleased by the fact that their intimidation was now working. It didn't even matter to him that it had taken crossing lines to get to that point. Dan probably wasn't too happy about it but he didn't really give a shit about what Daniel wanted. They were friends, sure, but Jay was no mindless sheep. Each was their own leader. The chain of command had always been a little questionable in their crew but it had completely fallen apart when most of the members had been incarcerated. They locked eyes again when she begged to be let go, seemingly making a decision amongst themselves. Dan wordlessly handed the knife back to his friend without taking his hand off Nell. "I don't know if we can do that," he said grimly. "I think she knows too much, don't you?" James sounded a little more excited than worried. The adrenaline of the situation was starting to kick in for him. Taking the blade of the knife, he too grasped her arm for a firmer hold and then dragged it slowly across the skin to produce as much pain as possible. Now we definitely can't let her go, acknowledged Daniel. The burn had been bad enough, but this? He released her arm but did not plan on actually letting the girl herself escape them. His hand went to the gun tucked into his waistband and he pulled it out. "It's loaded," he assured her. "I think you might need to come with us." They were in a right mess now thanks to James but there was nothing they could really do except roll with it.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/size]
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Post by NELL DOE DALE on Dec 18, 2011 18:13:38 GMT -5
When the brown-eyed one asked his friend—James, that’s what he said his name was—for his knife, Nell felt a firm lump of panic rise into her throat. Just as she’d thought, they were armed. What more could she expect from gangbangers? She stared at the weapon in the one’s hand as he told her that he’d been the one to scar Josh, and that only established the fact that they’d have no problem with hurting her. If she were in a better situation, she would have said something smart because she didn’t like the idea of standing in front of the guy who’d jumped her boyfriend. However, she was the one without weapons here. Well, except for her element, but that was strictly off-limits. These guys were probably mortals, and besides, she didn’t want to use her element in self-defense ever again. She was literally fucked if they did hurt her, which she suspected they’d have no problems with.
They proved as much when James decided to take action. She gasped with the blow to the head, penance for her being a smartass. Nell tried to pull away again, but the other creep’s grip on her was tight and she felt completely powerless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She didn’t open her mouth again, for fear that if she said something it would warrant another whack to her head. What could she do? If she tried calling for someone, they would obviously see and she didn’t think she’d be quick enough to even dial the emergency number. ”Then I’ll scream,” she threatened, her voice quiet as if she were storing it up for the scream. There wasn’t anyone around though, and her thoughts returned to the fact that no one around here would probably care. It was the sleazy part of town, not only did most of the people around her sell drugs and run the streets, but a missplaced scream would not be uncommon. She would try, though, because she didn’t have anything else. She didn’t have a knife, or a weapon, and she needed to get away from these shitheads.
Nell bit her lip to keep herself from making any more sounds as she was left winding from the burn that was still stinging in her arm. Don’t give them the benefit, she thought when she heard the laugh. Mind over matter was nice in theory, but when at the mercy of two seemingly sadistic assholes, it didn’t seem as effective. She may have had a good tolerance for pain, but that just kept her from crying—it didn’t stop the pain. Her chest heaved up and down as she looked between the two, keeping her eyes steady. She didn’t want to look like a trapped animal, as well as she felt like one. The brown-eyed guy’s—Damn, what’s his name?—words were damning, and she knew she should have expected them. Did she really think they’d have listened to her? ”I don’t know anything,” she said hastily, as if that would change their minds.
It didn’t seem to convince them as James took her arm and she tried to draw back, now in the vice grip of both of them. She kept her mouth closed as she stifled a scream when he sliced the knife across her skin, feeling the burn like the blade was on fire. ”Fuck,” she breathed out watching the blood curve around her arm. She was in full panic-mode now, figuring that if they didn’t have any qualms about cutting and burning her, that they’d end up killing her. The one stranger’s next words only verified this fear when he pulled out his gun after letting go. Nell believed instantly that it was both real and loaded and that it would eventually be used on her. They’re going to kill me, she thought, her body shaking. They’re going to kill me now. She squared her shoulders and drew back a bit when he said that she’d need to come with them. There was no other option, though. Numbly, she nodded and said, ”O-okay.” Nell didn’t think they were in any kind of mess, because they were in control right now. They would kill her, wouldn’t they, and they were taking her somewhere so they could dispose of her corpse. She would have loved for hope in this situation, but she understood that it was pretty bleak. Maybe if she cooperated, they’d let her go? You know they won’t. They’d only let her go in the worst way.
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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 18, 2011 19:02:46 GMT -5
James clenched his jaw when Nell threatened to scream, knowing that this had a high danger of getting at least one person's attention. He didn't know whether they'd do anything about it or not but what he did know was that they couldn't be taking any chances. "Scream," he said, "and we'll have to shut you up." There was no veil to his words, no trying to hide what he was suggesting. Dan held the knife steady as if to back up his buddy's words, the more cautious of the two busy having an inward panic attack. He was in agreement with Jay about the girl, though— he wanted her to keep her mouth closed. He might not have been as down with violence as James was but he also wasn't keen on being arrested. They'd went from simple harassment to actual assault and now they were in deep water if they got caught, seriously deep. They were both over the age of eighteen and thus would get no sort of break from the law enforcement for being teenagers. They had been years ago at the start of all this bullshit but now they were in their twenties. Dan was the older by two year, not that it really mattered to either of them. His slight seniority was based more on his level head than on his birth date.
Dan took the driver's seat of the car and James got into the back with Nell, all the while smirking at her or making subtle hints toward what they might be willing to do. The older, brown-eyed boy kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut, driving right out of the Hollow via a weather-beaten road. It led to what had once been an old part of town that had been mostly razed and replaced with several warehouses and storage units as well as a factory or two. It was well out of sight from the town itself even though it was within legal jurisdiction, merely for the sake of keeping it out of sight. The warehouses were battered and the factories hideous, not something you wanted in an otherwise decent mountain community. It made this place perfect for hiding out. Jay and Dan actually lived out of one of the warehouses, though it was not this one that they went to. Instead they drove right into the heart of the complex and led the way into a shadowy, lightless one full of old boxes—several windows were broken and part of the ceiling had caved in, hinting at its long-time disuse. "No one will think to look here," concluded Daniel. Still pointing the gun to make it clear they were a threat, he frowned at Nell. "Now, what to do with you...?"
James sneered. "I think we should kill her," he said, unashamed of the sadism. "She's already heard too much, she knows my name. I don't want her pretty little mouth blabbing to the cops." He pinned her against the wall with one arm and held the knife close to her neck. "What do you think?" he asked the girl herself, taunting. "Check her pockets, make sure she doesn't have anything important on her," said Dan. "ID, cellphone, keys, anything." James complied, tossing Nell's wallet over to his friend seeing as he couldn't look through it himself. He passed over the cellphone as well. "Her name's Nell," mused Dan. "Well, Nell, I really do regret that we have to do this, but you understand, right? We can't have you selling us out to the cops." His voice was smooth and calm. He jerked his head toward a small room at the back that was no larger than the average closet and James shoved her inside, shutting the door and locking it as well as jamming something under the knob. Daniel was busy going through her contacts and he smirked as he found the number he was looking for. He hit dial without a second thought—if they were going down, they might as well have their satisfaction while they were at it. He doesn't have any proof we did it. We'll skip town and no one'll know. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to give away their location, right? He handed James the phone just to make sure he didn't slip up and give anything about his brother away. His own rage would be a danger here.
Joshua stirred slightly as he heard the familiar ringtone going off, having fallen asleep after a few straight hours of studying. He yawned and then picked up his phone. "Hey, babe," he said, sounding tired but friendly. He knew it was Nell based on the ringtone alone. "What's up?" He knew she'd gone out with friends and wondered if she wanted a ride home or anything like that. "I could ask you the same thing, kid," the deep voice that was most definitely not Nell replied from the other end. "Or do you prefer 'Josh'?" Half awake, he did not immediately comprehend the meaning behind this. "The fuck? Are you high? How'd you get Nell's phone, asshole?" He figured they knew his name based on the contacts list of course but he had no idea who they were. Until, that is, they spoke again. "You might have gotten away with ratting us all out," he said, "but your lady friend isn't going to be so lucky." Daniel lifted the gun to the ceiling and fired off a false shot, just for effect, and then hung up. Josh nearly dropped the phone in shock. Nell. Shit. They've got Nell. He suddenly felt a lot more awake and a lot more panicked. That had been a gun that had went off, he'd know the sound anywhere. What if they've killed her? Not even wanting to think about this, he was on his feet and heading for the door before he could even truly process what was going on.
James gave a throaty laugh and rapped loudly on the door of the small room. "Hear that, precious?" he taunted. "How do you think that boyfriend of yours is going to feel knowing that your death—"
"Shit! James!"
[/b] "—is all his faul—what?" He sounded frustrated as he broke off and stepped away from the door. Jay hesitated, though, when he saw the look of panic on his friend's face. "Shit, man, what is it?" Dan pressed his finger to his lips and then he heard it as well, a crash from somewhere else in the warehouse. Neither of them thought twice, turning and legging it for the door in case it was some sort of cop or other form of security poking around. So keen were they on getting out of there, however, that they completely forgot the locked door and the girl they'd been about to kill. Even though cops did come through the area, they did so very rarely. It wasn't an area of extreme interest, after all. The cat who was the source of the sound slunk out from behind the stack of boxes she'd knocked over, meowing curiously. The crunch of tires on gravel could be heard as the two companions escaped the scene.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/size]
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Post by NELL DOE DALE on Dec 18, 2011 21:05:28 GMT -5
James’ words effectively kept Nell from screaming. She wasn’t the one with the knife. They could kill her if she screamed. Are they going to do it? And when? She still felt as if she had a chance to make it out of this alive, if not unscathed. But what could she do? So many people would like to believe they’d be able to fight back in this position, that they’d find some way out of it, but reality was much different than theory. She was completely helpless, which is why she had no choice but to get in the car with them, unable to help the slightly panicked voice in her head from commenting on how ugly the interior was. Nell tried not to let James voice get through to her as she fisted her hand in her lap, and used the other to staunch the blood coming from her arm. She kept her eyes on the windows so she could see where they were going. If they kill me, it doesn’t matter if I remember where we are. Nell noticed that they were headed away from the main part of town, to where they old warehouses were. This is where I’m going to die, isn’t it. She tried to keep herself composed, but she felt the very strong desire to cry.
She felt like a sheep to the slaughter, following obediently thanks to the threat of death. What did it matter, anyway? She ran, she died, she didn’t, she…what was going to happen to her? Nell wished the nameless creep would stop talking, because it filled her with panic. No one, she thought. No police, no random passerby, no one. She was effectively kidnapped. The desperate half of her prayed that they would leave her alone for one second so she could take her phone out. It looked like she’d have no such hope, as Daniel still had his gun, a constant threat to her life. Please let me live, I don’t want to die… As if he had read her thoughts and wished to squash any hope, James suggested the worse. She bristled, her eyes staying on the gun that might be what takes her life. She was going to die in this derelict place, full of forsaken boxes and shattered lighting, and god knows how long it would take to find her body. And would they even put a finger on these two? Or would they get away with it? There were so many questions, but she was now certain of her fate.
Nell didn’t say anything as James spoke, as if to contradict his claims about her ratting to the cops. She felt the sting of wounded arm, and could only imagine how the blade would feel slitting her throat. They relinquished her of her possessions, as if they would have been any use to her right now. Any plan of escape or rescue were gone with the words ‘kill’. No amount of cleverness could overcome the callous cold steel of a bullet. She didn’t even narrow her eyes when the nameless one said that they’d regret it, because she knew they wouldn’t. Maybe if they got caught, but her life didn’t even matter to them, as they’d so far shown. ”I won’t snitch,” she said, an echo of the first time that she’d spoken the words, and this time they felt like her last ones. They won’t let me go, will they? She stood as still as an animal caught in the path of headlights. Only this was the man pinning her against the wall, and a gun that would be her end. I don’t wanna die. She knew she shouldn’t, but Nell wondered what her mother thought in her last moments.
With silent instruction from the brown-eyed one, James shoved her into a closet and locked it before she could even make a move to stop him. After it closed, she tried yanking open the door in vain, twisting the knob. Did she really want to go back out there? Was it better than the dark, small…so small. Her hands still on the doorknob, she took a cursory glance around. But she didn’t need to see it—she could feel the small space, the lack of oxygen. She took in a sharp breath, and pushed against the door as if it would somehow open. Nell tried to focus on their voices and take her mind away from the small space they had imprisoned her in, and she picked out the name Josh. Did…did they call him? Since she could only hear one side, she assume. Nell pulled away from the door when she heard the shot go off, the sound rattling through her bones. She had a very keen feeling that the next bullet would be for her. The knocking almost matched the power of he heartbeat, and she looked around again as if she could find somewhere to run. There’s nowhere to go. She barely registered what James’ companion was saying over the panic, the absolute terror paralyzing her limbs as she just stood there. She didn’t know what else accompanied her in the closet, what kind of items and vermin and it smelled like something she didn’t want to name.
It took a moment for her to realize that they’d taken off, expecting at any moment for the door to open and for her to hear the click of a hammer. After a few moments when all she could hear was her heavy breathing, she thought through the panic and figured that maybe something had made them leave. Clinging at whatever hope she had left, she banged at the door, slamming the palm of her hand against it until it felt like it would break. When she stopped to try and collect herself, she heard the mewing of a cat. A cat. That’s all there is. She gasped, and from then on every breath was a gasp. She dropped to the floor and pushed herself back against the wall of the closet, looking up above her, looking for a window, looking for something. And all she knew was that she was back with her mother, in the only place she’d ever called home, and she was being punished for breaking a plate, or accidentally cutting herself while making dinner. She could almost hear Mia’s voice, gently chastising her before the light disappeared and the door closed and Nell began the countdown. How long would she be in there? How many hours, days, before her mother opened the door and asked if she had learned her lesson?
Nell curled up on the cold floor, one hand loosely gripping her injured arm, silent tears now accompanying her haggard breaths. They’d called Josh, but would he know where to look? Where to find her? She didn’t think so. She thought she was going to die here, whether from starvation or from the walls that seemed to be silently closing in on her. She should have been used to this, should have been prepared for time spent in a closet. Maybe she could have come up with a few survival tips, something that could save her from the all-consuming fear. Her eyes darted around but she didn’t see anything in the darkness, and it was that powerlessness all over again. She was now waiting for Mia to pull open the door, for her soft expression, the frown tugging at her lips. Nell never learned her lesson.
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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 18, 2011 21:53:06 GMT -5
Joshua was incredibly thankful for the speed of Harper as he hit the main road leading out of town, not even caring about the various traffic laws and speed limit signs that flanked the road as he increased the pressure on the gas. Despite not having exerted himself at all beyond taking seven flights of stairs (he'd been too anxious to wait for an elevator) his heart was thumping against his ribcage as the car drew to a stop in the middle of the maze-like complex. "Shit," he muttered, having forgotten just how extensive this place was. He shook his head to snap himself out of the daze and got out of the car, starting immediately toward the nearest warehouse. The door was a little jammed from rusted hinges and old age but after a few tries he managed to budge it open. Coughing from the dust that clouded the air near the entrance he searched the place as quickly as he could. There were a few back rooms, all of them empty. This entire place is like this. I remember. And suddenly he was a child again, staring in wonderment and slight fear at the size and complexity of the place. "Won't we get lost?" "Not if you stick with us." He shook his head again, this time more insistently, dispelling the memories from his mind. He didn't know which of the places he'd been inside before or which one of them had nearly become the crime scene of his own murder but that didn't matter right now. It was Nell's life on the line this time... unless he was already too late.
Don't think like that, he scolded himself, already at the next warehouse. It was similarly empty, as was the next, and the next. He saw rats and even a stray dog once but they were the only signs of life amidst piles of dusty boxes or old, stored things long since forgotten. He knew of one warehouse in particular that would be a point of interest but had put off going there immediately thanks to his fear—it had been somewhat of a hangout for the lot of them and they'd partially furnished it. Away from all the law enforcement and the judgements of society it had been a good place to converge. He actually found himself holding his breath as he turned the knob as softly as he was able, slipping inside and closing the door behind him. Christ it's dark in here. He forced himself to wait for his eyes to adjust, knowing that to wander blindly risked bumping into things and making a lot of noise. He was anxious for he knew he was wasting precious time by standing here but he couldn't think of what else to do. Once he could see the dim outlines of things he allowed himself to move forward, breathing so soft and shallow that he felt a little light-headed from the lack of air reaching his lungs. He didn't want to breath at all, too afraid that they would be here, even one of them, and that he'd gotten himself into a mess he couldn't get out of. "Do you all carry guns?" "Ha. Piss one of us off and you'll find out, kid." At the time he'd hoped it was a joke but now he was not sure. Given what they'd ended up doing to him, there was a chance it had been entirely serious.
Despite his paranoia, the place proved to be empty. Still he hesitated before flicking on a dim light that flickered even as it was turned on, at least throwing the place into a decent enough glow to get around. There were a few discarded beer cans on the old wooden table he recognised and though there were some bullets lying around as well, the gun they were used for didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. He couldn't tell for sure how long it had been since someone had last been in here but judging by a lack of dust it hadn't been too long ago. Tense as he could possibly get, Joshua hesitantly called, "Nell?" His voice was a bit cracked as he'd hesitated and so he cleared his throat and called again, louder this time. Nothing. Shit. He searched the place more thoroughly, taking advantage of the light now, but ultimately came up with nothing. I'm wasting time. He doubled back and left through the same door he'd came in, heading to the next one. Its door was so heavily jammed that he suspected perhaps there was something in front of it. A barricade, perhaps, so that they could keep her prisoner while they toyed with her? There was a lump in his throat at the thought. He couldn't get inside no matter how hard he tried and deduced that it might be a dead end. I'll come back later if I can't find anything else. He glanced around indecisively and then pulled his knife from his pocket, carving a deep notch in the door to mark it just in case.
Eventually he made his way to a place that was rather familiar to him. There was graffiti all along one side with the gangs insignia surrounded by various nonsense—swear words, pictures, basically signs of boredom-induced 'artwork'. "Hurry up, get in here! God, we screwed up big time, didn't we? The cops are after us!" "What if they catch us?" "Shh! Just shut up, they'll hear us!" The door was wide open, something that made him mildly suspicious. He nearly jumped out of his skin as something moved in front of his path but it turned out to be a battered tabby cat. "Hey there, kitty," he said softly. His voice still seemed to echo in the otherwise quiet place. He could barely see where he was going and he actually knocked over a pile of flattened boxes, cursing loudly as he jumped out of their way. "Son of a bitch!" The cat hissed and scampered off toward the exit and the loneliness that followed was disconcerting. It had been nice to know he wasn't the only person wandering this place but now he was on his own again. Pessimism meant that he was starting to lose hope by this point and so it was half-heartedly that he made his way over to the door. It was probably going to be empty like all of the other—Shit, what was that? He could have sworn he heard some sort of thumping but paused in his tracks to make sure he wasn't hearing his own footsteps and inventing things. He was paranoid and desperate at this point and quite tired from all his jogging around in circles. But no—there it was again!
He tried the door only half-heartedly to realise it was locked, then abandoned all other pretences and shoved his full weight against it until he heard it splinter, from which point he was able to wrench it open. "Nell!" His tone was a mixture of shock, panic, relief and concern all bundled into one. He immediately crouched down beside her and pulled her into a hug, unable to properly convey how glad he was that at least she was not dead. There was blood, however, and he was much more gentle and careful from that point as he pulled away. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" His voice was slightly strangled but still easily heard. Speaking of hearing, the blood was pounding so loudly in his ears that it was almost disorienting him. "Jesus Christ I'd like to kill those bastards," he spat. "It's because of me—they came after you because of me, Nell, the gang, I didn't know—" He broke off, shaking his head vigorously. Right. Shit. None of that really mattered now, what mattered was that she was bleeding, she was injured, he still wasn't sure if she'd been shot. He'd heard the gun fire but he couldn't see any bullet wound. He'd also been talking far too rapidly and insistently for her to speak until this point and so he took a shuddering breath and asked more calmly, "What happened, Nell? What did they do?" He was too frantic to think about the claustrophobia right now. He figured she'd obviously be traumatized—you didn't escape kidnap and attempted murder unscathed, he knew that much—but he wasn't making sense of things in his mind right now.
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Post by NELL DOE DALE on Dec 18, 2011 22:51:54 GMT -5
Nell knew that it wasn’t the wisest ideas to be laying on a warehouse floor, but what did it matter right then? She was bleeding already and the dust would probably infect the cut, and she didn’t think her prospects were too hopeful. She’d been literally abandoned, and she wondered if that was worse than actually being shot dead. At this point, she’d have preferred a quick end. She was taking in huge gulps of air while they lasted, trying not to let her throat close up in her panic. Still, Nell kept wondering if it really mattered. What if she died, starved to death because nobody would find her all the way out in this godforsaken place? What would air matter then? Her breathing was interrupted by a soft sob as the tears choked her, falling across her nose and and down her cheek. If this was going to be it, she wanted to die quickly. She didn’t want to be trapped in here, where she couldn’t breathe and the only sounds were the scuttling of some mysterious creatures accompanying her. She shut her eyes, hoping that would make it better, but it wasn’t enough, because she could still feel the space aroudn her, asi f by some extrasensory perception she knew where the walls were.
She wondered if she could fall asleep, but the tension was keeping her awake. The stinging was now a dull ache in her arm, and she pushed her hand harder against it which only succeeded in making her whimper. Nell had no sense of time, especially not without her phone, every second taking an hour to pass by as she inhaled the dirt on the floor, god knows what kind of debris left behind by whatever the warehouse had been used for before. At least her closet in New York had been cleaner. The thought almost made her laugh and cry at the same time, and she wondered if it really was going to happen, if her mother was going to come and let her out or if this was the last time she would be left in a small enclosed space, unable to breath. Half of her was hoping to see Mia, so that she’d have another chance, another day left to live. Maybe she’d be able to do things right, maybe she wouldn’t tell her that Tilly had died and just accept that name as her own, maybe she could just try and endure her mother. Or maybe there would be more cigarette burns, more burning safety pins, more closets. This is not then, she tried to reason, the thought cutting through her incoherent panic. But that was worse, because this time she would die, just shrivel up and when someone did find her, she would simply be a skeleton.
It almost felt as if she had fallen asleep when she heard the cursing, heard the familiar voice. She didn’t feel very lucid, like she was still in a dream, or just coming out of one. It took her a moment to actually adjust and actually focus on the noises she was hearing. She dragged herself over to the door, body shaking now, and on her knees banged her hand against the door again, leaning against the thing for support. It felt hopeless, it felt like she was probably just hearing things, trying to create hope in a hopeless situation. But then she drew back, the door opening and she saw Josh. Not her mother, not the shining light of death, but Josh. She must have fallen asleep, or maybe died, and this was just her imagination, because how else would he…? But the feeling of his arms around her were very real and she was still trembling, unable to even get out a word when he pulled away. She remembered her arm blinked down at it, shook her head. No, it was scabbing over now, the blood clotting and taking in bacteria from the small, space. She realized then that the door was open, and without saying a word as Josh ranted, she pulled herself up with the help of the doorframe and left the space, eyes blank and breathing heavy. It didn’t hit her yet that she was not going to die, and that she also wasn’t going to return to a life under her mother’s cruel hand.
Josh asked what had happened and she took a few moments as she leaned agains the wall of the warehouse, not knowing what to do, how to comprehend this. ”Cigarette burn,” she murmured, looking down to see the red dot, the coloring white the closer to the center it was. Nell understood that had a nice chance at getting infected too. ”Knife,” she continued, not trusting her voice as she wiped her cheek, arm shaking as she tried to rid herself of already dried up tears. She assured her boyfriend in a soft voice, ”It wasn’t deep.” She didn’t know what else she could say, and she felt her legs give out and she slid down the wall. I’m not going to die, I’m not going to die, she kept the mantra going in her head. She just had to convince herself of that. The two guys had run away and Josh was here now and she was safe. There was no more closet, she could breathe. But as she ran her shaking fingers through her hair, she couldn’t shake off the panic.
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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 18, 2011 23:20:08 GMT -5
Joshua was so relieved to see that Nell was safe that it actually took the girl pushing past out of the small room for him to connect the claustrophobia to her strange behaviour in his mind. He was perceptive enough that the connection came easily as soon as he began to ponder what was going on but it had taken a snap back to reality to remind him that she feared small spaces, that she panicked. He remembered the elevator and how relieved she'd been when they'd finally escaped the place and he knew a sort of empathy for her. "I'm sorry, I forgot," he said, both earnest and apologetic. It felt strange to be apologising twice in such a short window of time considering how little he said the words otherwise but he couldn't shake the idea that this was all his fault. The gang were in no way connected to Nell—it was he, Joshua, who they had ties to. Hadn't the boy hinted as much over the phone? Josh knew that he recognised the voice but could put neither a name nor a face to it. He cursed his lack of information, wanting them to pay for what they had done to his girlfriend. Attacking him had been bad enough, making his life hell for months and years after he cut ties with them had been enough to deal with. But Nell? She knew nothing of this except what he'd told her and what she'd experienced briefly when she'd saved his life. The roles were reversed now but this was one connection he didn't realise or care about. It didn't matter that she'd done this for him in the past, all that mattered was that they'd hurt her. She's okay now. She's alright.
He was vaguely aware that he, too, was trembling. It was from a collection of anger and relief rather than fear so he tried his best to steady it as he gingerly reached for her arm. "Let me see," he requested softly, taking great care not to touch anything or cause her any severe pain. He wasn't sure how much it hurt and whether she had been lying when she'd told him that it didn't but he was going to be extra careful just in case. Rage glittered in his colourless eyes as he saw the cigarette burn and the slash from the knife, though he concentrated more heavily on the former. "Here." He put his hand over it and concentrated hard, glad that it was only a very small burn. If it had been anything serious he might have drained himself thanks to his physical exhaustion from all the running around he'd done. Maybe Nell could tell, maybe not. He was panting ever so slightly and he certainly looked tired but she was hardly in a fit state to be perceptive right now, he understood that. "I can help you with that once we get home," he said, gesturing to the knife wound. "It's not deep enough to need stitches from what I can tell and there would be too many questions if we went to the hospital." He was glad right now that he knew first aid. It only made sense being that he'd grown up with a doctor and wanted to become one himself one day but he was still thankful for it nonetheless. His father had taught him things like that growing up, little tips and tricks, the best ways to stop cuts from getting infected, that sort of thing. Things he didn't need medical school for.
His gaze was sympathetic as he watched her slide down against the wall and Joshua took a seat beside her, huddling close to her for comfort and warmth. He didn't really notice the cold of the warehouse seeing as he was a Fire elemental but he figured that Nell might be feeling the effects of it since she'd been here for a while. They know my name, now. This thought frightened him a little. His parents were not exactly inconspicuous, particularly not his mother. He took some comfort in the idea that lowlife thugs might not make the connection from Josh to Joshua Dale but he worried that they might search. They all harbored a grudge, or at least the vast majority. He didn't know how many were behind bars and how many walked free but clearly there had been enough of a threat for Nell tonight. He had a lot of questions he wanted to ask her about the situation but didn't want to give it the feel of an interrogation. I'll wait 'till we get home, wait until she's got that arm looked at. He was already running over the list of things he might need. If they got really desperate he was sure his father could do something, though the potential awkwardness of that situation shoved it to the backburner as a last resort. He'd rather not be consulting Donovan about the injury. He might not ask as many questions as the staff at his hospital but he'd still wonder, Josh was sure. If I can deal with it myself, I will. "We should get going as soon as you feel ready," he said, for he didn't want to rush her. "In case they come back."
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Post by NELL DOE DALE on Dec 19, 2011 15:12:41 GMT -5
A lot hadn’t really registering to Nell, not even the sound of her boyfriend’s voice was completely pulling her back to reality. Deep breaths, she instructed herself. All she needed was a bit of time, and then she’d let it sink in that she wasn’t going to die. She coughed, the cold air unkind to her lungs, but she tried to focus on pulling herself back to the present. In the present, she was safe. Right? Nell lifted her arm for Josh to inspect, barely aware of the movement. She was glad, though, that his element could heal the burn, even though the fact remain that it had happened, just like it always happened to her. "Thank you," she whispered, and it was different than how it used to be, she never actually had a cigarette burn treated before. “Go to your room,” her mother would say in a soft voice, snubbing the cigarette out in her ashtray, drinking from her bottle of rum and Nell would hold her hand against her stomach before going to the bathroom to run the injury under freezing water. She became aware that he was speaking again, and she directed her glazed over eyes to his face, before looking down at her arm, at the slash on it. The dull ache didn’t bother her too much anymore, not physically. Nell nodded, still not trusting herself to speak. All she knew was that she didn’t want to go to the hospital, and she was just fine with Josh looking at it.
She tried to refocus her attentions on collecting herself again, on the deep breaths she could now take that she was out in open space. The walls weren’t coming any closer. That was good. Everything was stationary. But there was still the anxiety in every muscle of her body, still that overwhelming fear. The dread that always accompanied a panic attack did not just disappear when she wanted it to, unfortunately. She felt Josh’s warmth as he sat down next to her, and she kept paying close attention to these kinds of things, to the reality of the situation she now faced. Still, the shivering wouldn’t stop, her lips wouldn’t come unglued, and she felt like she was still stuck in a tiny place. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you, she told herself. Leaning her head back against the wall, she merely blined when she heard Josh’s voice, telling her that they should leave before the shitheads came back. Right. They could come back if they realized that they’d run for no reason, come back and kill both of them. Even as she thought this, she couldn’t bring herself to stand, her body felt weak and fatigued and it was almost as if she’d cry. But she didn’t. She just kept her blank expression.
Upon the full realization of what the creeps could do to Josh if they came back—after all, it wasn’t her that had the issues with these guys, it was her boyfriend—she stood up and looked down at the floor, still breathing steadily. ”All right, let’s go,” she said, wondering if her legs were actually going to work, wondering if she was strong enough to carry herself away from this goddamn place. She sure as hell didn’t want to be here, but it wasn’t like her body was really cooperating with her at this moment. She was still only half-lucid, not really noticing much around her, just staying within the confines of her anxious mind. It wasn’t the safest place for her consciousness to go, but it was very hard to pull herself away from it. Even though she wasn’t doing a very good job at holding herself together, she trusted Josh to get her away from here, trusted him more than anything. And at this point in time, she let her mind focus on that, she wanted to pay attention to something that didn’t terrify her. She decided that Josh would be a good thing.
[Since Nell is pretty much catatonic (I am so sorry) you can time skip. xD]
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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 19, 2011 15:58:44 GMT -5
As Nell had quite obviously not been up to discussion immediately after they'd returned to her apartment, Josh had decided to hold off any questions about the incident and why she'd been so spooked until later. Oh, he understood that near-death experiences sometimes frightened a person, yes, but Nell's claustrophobia had been acting up again and he'd wondered why she even had that in the first place. He wasn't sure that all phobias had a source—after all, why were people afraid of spiders apart from their appearance?—but he knew his hydrophobia did, as did the fear of guns. He made sure to stick close to Nell for the next few days as well, at least when she would otherwise be alone, not trusting the creeps to get their next shot in. He also wanted to discuss reporting them to the police with Nell, wondering if she'd be willing to. He himself had been silent for the most part and had refused to testify in court against any of them but if they were starting to track down and assault the people close to him Josh would be willing to risk his neck a little to protect them. They know my name. He could help from repeating it in his mind, the mere thought sending shivers down his spine. He had always kept that from them. In youth it had just been because they'd never really asked but after they'd jumped him it had been out of fear. He didn't want them to identify him as Joshua Dale, son of the rich Dale couple and older brother to Annabel, boyfriend to Nell. That labelled his loved ones for attack as well. How much do they know about my family? How much should I tell my family about them? It made him sick to think about it.
And so he tried not to, instead focusing on returning things to normal—at least, as normal as they could get following an assault. He had opted for not speaking a word to his parents just yet in case it was all for naught, not wanting to terrify Annabel or enrage his father. Patricia was the one he pegged to be the most sympathetic and understanding and thus he'd already decided it would be his mother he'd go to if it did turn into a real problem. He was also doing his best to make sure that Nell's arm didn't get infected because he was quite averse to a hospital trip at the moment. So when he next had a moment to speak with her, he greeted her as usual with a kiss and then asked, "How's your arm? Feeling better?" There was curiosity and concern mixed in his colourless gaze—he was wondering how effective he'd treated it due to his desire to learn things like that and he was also hoping it had worked well for Nell's sake. The sight of the injury was prone to infuriating him—he hated the guys that had attacked her, even though he hadn't questioned her on their identities yet. Would now be a good time for that? He was never sure with Nell and had been handling things with kids gloves lately thanks to her depression following the trial. Josh still wasn't aware that she was attending a therapist thanks to how much she lied to him about things and he wouldn't have been aware of the Prozac if he hadn't stumbled upon it accidentally. I hope she's taking it, he thought in regards to the medication. If it makes her better, at least. If it wasn't working then there was no point but he'd have liked to see her happy again. Truly happy, not pretending. There were moments where he thought he noticed it but he was never sure whether his mind was just playing tricks with him.
Deciding that several days, for that was how long it had been, would be enough to at least wrap one's mind around a situation, it was with a gentle but inquiring tone that he asked, "You were pretty spooked about that room. Is there... any reason why...?" He was playing it lightly again, not pushing as he had the last time that they had spoken. He wasn't sure whether she wanted to answer his questions and this was a little different than asking about things that had happened years and years ago. This had been quite recent and he and Nell were different people. He shut everything down almost immediately after something bad happened to him and didn't talk about it whether he was over it or not. Nell? He wasn't sure. They certainly hadn't discussed the trial a whole lot. They'd had a conversation about their relationship before and after it but discussion of the actual thing itself, of how it made Nell feel, that had never occurred. He was alright with that. This was a little different. He worried about her and worrying about the phobias she suffered went along with that. He sighed and added, "And I'm sorry, again. If I hadn't dragged you into this whole mess, maybe..." He shrugged and trailed off. A part of him acknowledged that they didn't know she was the one that had bailed him out the time he'd been jumped and that they'd probably only attacked her because he was dating her and they knew there was a connection there. It didn't change the guilt, though.
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Post by NELL DOE DALE on Dec 19, 2011 17:50:15 GMT -5
Nell was pretty traumatized by the kidnapping incident, but if she was good at anything, it was repression. A good night’s sleep had washed most of the anxiety away, and time healed all wounds. Just like the one on her arm, which didn’t bother her much now, which sucked for her considering she would twist her arm without thinking and get a lovely shooting pain up her arm. That was always fun when trying to reach for something in the high cabinets. Because she was trying her best at repression, she tried not to think of the shitheads still being out there, and she was well-aware that she was getting a taste of the fear that Josh must have experienced for years, even though he had never admitted to any fear in his situation. But isn’t that natural when you get jumped twice? She never liked to bring up the gang with him, since she understood that it was a subject that he didn’t really enjoy talking about. There were only a few occassions that she could remember of him speaking about his past, and those occasions had scared her because she realized just how much shit he was in.
She was in the kitchen when Josh approached her, making a cake for her friend’s birthday. She wasn’t the best baker, but she wasn’t terrible either. It wasn’t too hard to do, at least. Nell returned this kiss before turning her gaze to her to her arm, her sleeves rolled up so that she didn’t get her clothes messed up with all the ingredients she had out. ”Barely notice it anymore,” she assured him cheerfully. Even though she liked to lie about things like injuries, she wasn’t covering up any pain by saying this. It hadn’t been deep—no matter how freaking painful it had been to experience—and for that she was thankful. ”Well, unless Pablo decides to remind me by kneading it.” Of course, she wouldn’t get mad at the cat because he didn’t know. It didn’t irritate her too much, and she was glad that she didn’t need to go to the hospital or anything to get it treated. She didn’t care about stitches or shot or anything like that, but the feeling of being a patient never sat right with her. Now that he mentioned the injury, she was aware of it and was more careful about opening the oven and making sure that she didn’t twist it and make it uncomfortable or anything. She had to say, Josh was better at treating her injuries than she (or her mother) had been, so she was thankful for that much.
He questioned her about the closet, and she lifted her eyebrow. Well, she guessed she’d been expecting questions sooner or later, but she was glad that he hadn’t instantly berated her. She wouldn’t have been able to answer anything when she was so overwhelmed. ”Claustrophobia, remember?” she said with a small chuckle, not realizing that he was asking for any underlying reason for her phobia. Nell had never told him about the reason she got so nervous about locked doors and small spaces, but she didn’t realize this when he asked the question. She just assumed that he’d forgotten about it. ”Besides, it wasn’t very pleasant I must say.” she wrinkled her nose, joking in her usual attempts to lighten a situation. She wasn’t panicking anymore, so there was no reason for her to not be able to joke. ”Could have used a recliner.” Not even that would have helped, of course, because it was the simple fact that she had been locked in a closet that had her so distressed. He apologized, and that wasn’t something she had really expected. She sighed and pressed a hand to his chest when she kissed him, saying as she pulled away, ”You didn’t drag me into anything, so don’t start on that.” As usual, she refused to blame Josh for anything. He hadn’t been the one to attack her. She knew about pasts, and she wasn’t about to make him suffer anymore for his.
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Post by JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE on Dec 19, 2011 18:30:00 GMT -5
He smiled genuinely when she replied, taking her word for it. He didn't like to doubt Nell unless he had strong reason to and as the cut hadn't been too deep he trusted her when she said that she barely noticed it. He didn't want her to be in pain and so he didn't go to great lengths to assume that she was, at least not physically. There were a lot of things that were probably off-kilter in the psychological department thanks to all the trauma she endured but that was another matter entirely. He swept his gray gaze curiously over the ingredients. "Whatcha makin'?" he asked casually, tone light. He was in a decent mood despite all of the events that transpired. He might have been pessimistic but he was not Dan the Downer. His mind was still on what she'd went through of course but he wasn't going to mope around about everything because of it. That wasn't healthy. "Cake, brownies, muffins, cupcakes...?" He liked baking more than he probably should have—it only made sense thanks to his massive sweet tooth. His parents had gotten sick of him asking for homemade things or pestering the cook about it and so he'd taken it upon himself to learn the awesome art of baking for himself. He was certainly better at it than he was at cooking. He mostly followed the book rigidly for any sort of recipe but he liked baking enough that he was comfortable experimenting a little more. "I'd offer help, but it looks like you've got it covered," he remarked. "What's the occasion?"
The mood was a little less chipper and a little more tense when the subject shifted to the incident a few days previously but Josh was determined not to drag her down too much. He didn't want to see her curled up into a ball and sobbing like she had been earlier in the month—that had been hard for him to bear witness to. Especially when he'd asked why she was upset and she told him that it was because her mother didn't love her. That wasn't something you could set right with comfort and a few kind words, that would stick with a person for life. He wasn't entirely sure why she had claustrophobia and so he was a bit worried about bringing it up but he knew that if he didn't bring it up now, he would just be avoiding the subject forever. "No, I know," he replied. "I wouldn't forget something like that." It was true—Joshua had a remarkably good memory for things. It was part of the reason he was so intelligent. He had an ability to pick up on things and not let them escape from his mind. Little things would slip through the cracks but he considered his girlfriend's severe claustrophobia to be a rather large thing. "I just wondered... you know, why it was like that." He blinked at her, his gaze meaningful. He didn't want this to feel forced but he was also a bit afraid of her shutting him out again. He'd liked the feeling that she trusted him and even though he'd take it in stride and back off if Nell asked him to, it wouldn't be without a little hurt. Trust was a big thing for him. He liked to feel that his closest circle of friends trusted him, it gave him a sense of importance. He relied on that.
He was a bit surprised when she kissed him but did not protest, allowing himself to enjoy the contact while it lasted. He might not have been entirely selfish with Nell but nor was he entirely selfless. He wasn't going to get it in his head that this was all his fault and thus he was not worthy of a relationship with her. Good things didn't seem to come his way very often and so when they did he had a tendency of keeping them. "You're remarkably convincing, did you know that?" His gray eyes were light as he joked with her. "There's something about your methods..." He kissed her again, briefly, just to get the point of the joke across. A light chuckle brushed past his lips when he pulled away, getting the point. If Nell didn't blame him then there was no point in endlessly beating himself up over the fact that they'd attacked her. He still did harbour some feelings of responsibility but it was nice to know that Nell didn't hold it against him. If she could live with him then he could live with himself, easy. His conscience did not like guilt and so he often accepted ways around it without much questioning. "I'm just glad you're alright," he said, and decided to drop that subject there. That was the point, after all—she was okay. They were both fine, even if she hadn't came away completely unscathed, and it was better than being dead. Besides, he thought, I did help her. That makes up for it a little, right?
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