I really liked this latest entry! The emotion there was really tangible. And that ominous last sentence... My sad senses are tingling. How exciting.

No. No sad! Maybe Vette will die?

Regrets and apologies???

Quinn is capable of these things.

 

I swear!

 

I really liked this latest entry! The emotion there was really tangible. And that ominous last sentence... My sad senses are tingling. How exciting.

I have several different scenarios running around my head right now. We'll see which one wins when I try to write it, lol.

 

No. No sad! Maybe Vette will die?

If Vette does something to Quinn, she's as good as dead. I have several scenarios bouncing around right now. It makes me dizzy.

 

 

Thanks for reading everyone!!

Rejection: Cause Unknown

 

 

Ald was utterly surprised and utterly pleased to see this side of Malavai. For a brief, silly, and somewhat strange moment he entertained the thought that he should have choked Malavai sooner. He laughed at the thought of course and the man across the table from him arched a curious brow.

 

“A funny thought, is all,” Ald said with a smile.

 

Malavai was used to silly errant thoughts sending Ald into a fit of giggles at a moment’s notice. He never seemed to mind Ald’s silliness. It was true it threw him for a loop or three, especially given Ald’s history, but he would never begrudge his Lord his happiness.

 

“You seem distracted tonight, my Lord,” said Malavai.

 

“A bit hard not to be,” Ald grinned. “I had no idea you could cook. And so well.”

 

“I do have talents outside of my job, my Lord.”

 

“You’ve never cooked before.”

 

“You handled the cooking, my Lord.”

 

“You could have told me,” Ald chuckled.

 

Ald’s smile wavered when Malavai stiffened in his seat.

 

“I could have told you a lot of things, my Lord,” Malavai said stiffly. He quietly turned his attentions back to his plate.

 

“Not tonight, Malavai,” Ald said gently.

 

“There is something I would like to tell you tonight.” Malavai shifted his gaze upward. “But, perhaps, it’s best I show you.”

 

“Show me what?” Ald asked. He loved surprises - as long as they weren’t filled with robots and bad murder plots.

 

“After dinner,” Malavai said quietly. “And dessert.”

 

“There’s dessert!?” Ald asked excitedly.

 

Malavai chuckled and said, “Yes, my Lord.”

 

After dinner and dessert, Malavai led Ald through the ship to his personal quarters. Ald tried not to get too excited. Malavai likely felt far more comfortable in his own quarters than he would anywhere else on the ship. It was hard not to get a little giddy when he entered the Captain’s quarters. He couldn’t help it, he was a very excitable man when promised a surprise. Surprises that weren’t filled with terrible murder attempts and stupid robots.

 

“I cannot properly convey my regret over recent events. It’s hard to quantify and words are just words. I know nothing I can say will even begin to repair the damage that’s been done. I can, however, show you,” Malavai explained quietly. When Ald remained silent, he continued. “You asked me before if I had ever experienced a role reversal in the bedroom. You aren’t the first to ask, but, if you would like, you can be the first and, arguably, the last.”

 

Ald blinked. Was he really – well that was – alright then.

 

“Malavai,” Ald said gently, “you don’t have to do this to prove anything to me.”

 

“I’m not. I simply wish to show you how much you mean to me.” Malavai shrugged and looked away. Ald wasn’t sure what to make of such a strange gesture from the normally stiff man.

 

“Malavai,” Ald started.

 

Malavai’s eyes snapped up, fierce and shining. “I find words to be an insufficient means to convey how I feel. Allow me to show you.”

 

Malavai’s nostrils flared slightly, his gaze held Ald in place. Ald didn’t know what to say. He wanted to accept. Stars he wanted to accept. Instead he found himself shaking his head. He heard himself speak. He watched Malavai’s face drop, saw a small quiver near his lips before that face turned blank. His eyes iced over, cold and calculating. He straightened his stance and slipped into parade rest. He was back to officer mode. Ald flinched when Malavai all but dismissed him from his quarters. He left quietly cursing himself.

 

 

Notes:

 

 

 

Edited January 19, 2013 by irishfino

:eek:

:eek:

 

:)

I Hear You

 

 

Rejected didn’t begin to describe how Malavai felt in that moment. He felt shame, embarrassment, sadness and a slew of other emotions that were unidentifiable. Above all he felt utterly foolish. Perhaps it was simply too soon. Perhaps Ald saw a different reason behind his actions. He was a man who was good with words in non-emotional situations. Throw a wayward emotion into the mix and suddenly he was at a loss. Throw in romantic feelings and, stars, was his mind sent tumbling and fumbling for words. Mix in a dash of love and he might as well have been dead. He had no idea how to handle such situations. And he couldn’t just come out and tell Ald. Words were meaningless in the face of what he had done. Weren’t they?

 

Malavai went about his morning routine as usual. He even shaved. He wasn’t sure why he bothered, his face was liable to be back to scruffy levels by the time his shift had finished. At least for now, his face was smooth and had a delightfully light scent of soap. He rubbed his chin and examined his face in the mirror. He looked tired. He looked down and out. He looked defeated. If he could just say it already there would be no miscommunication. There would be no misinterpretation of actions. Would there? Yes, there was a chance, but, perhaps, if he mixed actions with words. Ald did find his monologuing, as he called it, quite attractive. It took a bit of effort, but he managed to school his features enough to simply look mildly irritated rather than tired and defeated. As he dressed, he idly wondered how many hours he had spent perfecting his facial expressions in the mirror. Would it add up to days, weeks, months, even years? He could run that calculation in the background while he went about his duties. In fact he would.

 

As predictable as ever, Ald sought him out just before his mandatory lunch break. He used to send Vette or have Vette page him and, even though she seemed friendlier, there was still something there, deeper and threatening, that put him on edge. Ald never seemed to notice or perhaps he just ignored it. Malavai noticed. He told Ald on many occasions that his eyes were always scanning for trouble. Always.

 

“Captain,” Ald said as he entered the bridge, “about last night.”

 

Malavai turned from his console and slipped into his trademark parade rest. He wondered how many hours he had spent practicing the perfect parade rest stance. Would it add up to days, weeks, months, years… decades? Another calculation to run. Another distraction.

 

“I’m sure that’s not how you planned the evening to go.”

 

“Not everything works according to plan, my Lord,” Malavai said stiffly. He noticed Ald’s flinch at those words, but tried to keep his face absolutely neutral. It was a losing battle.

 

“I don’t want you – you shouldn’t –” Ald stumbled over his words.

 

Malavai nodded in understanding. “I was not offering myself up as a sacrifice in order to reaffirm my loyalty to you nor was I offering myself as some form of payment for the events on and following the Transponder Station. I have been told that actions speak louder than words, my Lord and, yet, it seems as though actions can still be misinterpreted. Perhaps it was simply the timing of it all, my Lord.”

 

“I want us to be on the same page, Malavai,” Ald said quietly.

 

“I am trying, my Lord. In these situations…” Malavai trailed off and tilted his head up at an angle to eye the ceiling. He could show and tell, couldn’t he? Yes, he could. He dropped out of parade rest and straightened his posture. He reached Ald in five swift, measured steps. He swallowed and exhaled a shaky breath. “I love you, Ald. That is what I wished to show you last night. Perhaps a bit selfishly, I might add. I do not operate at peak efficiency when it comes to emotional matters. I cannot think straight when it comes to you. My thoughts are jumbled. I feel excited, regretful, happy, defeated. All at the same time. As I said last night, it is difficult for me to give a value to how much you mean to me. It is difficult for me to express my regret. It is even more so difficult for me to express just how fond I am of you. Perhaps ‘I love you’ is enough, but it pales in comparison to how I feel. It cannot be summed up in three simple words, my Lord. It feels a severe disservice to believe it does, which was why I wanted to show you... to give you something I can, essentially, only give once. Perhaps the timing was off. I know it was off. I – I have no idea how to operate in these situations.”

 

He looked to Ald for something, anything to show that he understood his babbling. Ald was staring at him, eyes wide in surprise, brow creased in thought. Please understand, please understand, please underst – his mental chant was interrupted by a pair of hands, needy and wanting, diving into his hair and pulling him forward for a kiss. He was stunned at first, but his mind finally kicked into gear and propelled him forward. Ald was his and he was Ald’s and he was happy. For as long as this lasted, he was happy.

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

 

Edited January 19, 2013 by irishfino

D'awwwww. He finally said it! Squee!

Aww, Quinn, you're adorable!

 

Also, I can imagine Ald just being hung on "I love you" and missing the rest of that explanation and just coming in at the end with the kisses.

 

And... can I has link in pm? :3

Finally Quinn cracks They're both so adorable

D'awwwww. He finally said it! Squee!

I know right. Jeez.

 

Aww, Quinn, you're adorable!

 

Also, I can imagine Ald just being hung on "I love you" and missing the rest of that explanation and just coming in at the end with the kisses.

 

And... can I has link in pm? :3

Oh, he was. He was just like "Whoa" and Quinn was all "Babble" and Ald was all "*smoochin's*".

 

Finally Quinn cracks They're both so adorable

Quinn is one hard nut to crack, but when he cracks, he cracks with monologues!

 

 

Thanks for reading everyone!!

Separated

 

 

Ald wasn’t sure what had happened. As he took stock of the situation, things began to slide back into place. A false emergency call from the Hand lured Ald and Quinn into a trap. He should have known that she would try something. She wasn’t one to let things go no matter how cheerful she appeared. He’d seen it, that dark side to her when Quinn left those months ago. Had she been corrupted by being in such close proximity to Sith? Did it really matter right at this very moment? No, no of course not, but his ears were ringing and his sight was nothing but white. A concussive grenade thrown into the room. He was in a chair, bound by Force dampening cuffs. And where was Quinn? Where was Malavai?

 

Something warm splashed across his face and he opened his eyes, squinting, willing them to see. He wished he hadn’t. He found Malavai. And the oh so familiar vibrosword sticking out of his chest. Those blue eyes wide with fear and pain, his mouth slacked open in a silent cry. The vibrosword withdrew, leaving Malavai to fall to his knees unsupported. He tried to speak, tried to cry. He coughed instead, spewing blood instead of words. Then he slumped over to one side and was silent.

 

Ald shuddered and bit back a bitter cry and the bile rising in his throat. He felt something shift and click then heard the cuffs drop from his wrists. The Force rushed back to him in a whirlwind of rage and grief and anger and utter, utter desire for destruction.

 

Broonmark was the first to fall. Betrayer. Betrayer! Didn’t you cleanse your clan of betrayal!? Betrayer! Blood. Blood everywhere. Not enough. Not nearly enough. Cleanse the clan. Cleanse the ground. Cleanse the rain. Rain. Pouring blood. Death. Viscera. Kill. Kill before they kill you. Kill them all! He heard a squeak from a corner and heard blasters charging to fire. He leaped and swung to kill. He pummeled and punched and hit until the blasters fell to the ground. He kept punching until the flesh could no longer yield to the ferocity of his strikes. He turned, then, hunched and breathing heavily. He was covered head to toe in blue and clear fluids. Blood.

 

A wheezing gasp brought him back to reality. Mostly. The immediate need for blood was sated. He ran to Malavai and flipped him onto his back. Pale, so pale. And red, so much red. Puddling under him, dripping from his mouth to the floor. So much red.

 

“Malavai,” Ald said quietly. Begged, more like. Begged him to speak. Begged him to live. Begged him to stay.

 

Malavai slowly shifted his eyes to Ald’s then swallowed. He opened his mouth, but no sound emerged.

 

“It’s alright,” Ald said soothingly. “I’ll – I’ll get you to the ship, get you in the tank, get you to a medcenter.”

 

Malavai’s voice was barely a whisper, but he managed a “Lieutenant” before closing his eyes. What did he mean by that? Ald didn’t care unless the Pierce was going to prove himself a threat and he was smarter than that. He scooped up Malavai and ran somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He was lost. So he shouted. He shouted for Pierce. He shouted for anyone.

 

Pierce rounded a corner stumbling and dragging a leg.

 

“One false move and you die,” Ald growled through clenched teeth. He could feel Malavai slipping away in his very arms. He had to hurry.

 

“Wouldn’t even entertain the thought, milord,” Pierce grunted. “Tried to talk her out of it. Didn’t know until she stuck in the needle in my neck. Shot me for good measure. Is the Captain…?”

 

Pierce was smart. Smart enough not to finish that sentence.

 

“I know some field medicine. Patched up my leg. Can get him stable enough to get to the ship, yeah?”

 

Ald rushed toward Pierce, mindful of his precious cargo. Pierce pulled a pack from his hip and dropped to his good knee. He worked fast for a bulky man and his thick fingers were surprisingly nimble. The damage was extensive and Malavai was frightfully pale and red all over. Such contrast. Then he felt it. That small, flickering fire that burned within Malavai flickered out, replaced only by a cruel, cold void. Tears bit at his eyelids, hot and burning. Pierce kept working. Ald wanted to tell him to stop. To tell him that Malavai was gone, but the words shattered against the knot tightening in his throat.

 

He was gone.

Edited January 20, 2013 by irishfino

D: My feels, they have been punched... Poor Ald.

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but Quinn He'd actually apologized and did the...the stuff...the regrets stuff!! And then...poor Ald

 

...also I'm a little impressed with Vette's vindictiveness...goodness. I get the anger, I really do, but the extent...wow.

 

(Also, yay Pierce!!! Cause <3 Pierce)

Can't Quinn ever be happy and alive?

OH LOOK.

 

It's another dream sequence. Another fake dream sequence that hits right in the feels but isn't real because Quinn and Ald are going to live happily ever after.

 

Aren't they?

OH LOOK.

 

It's another dream sequence. Another fake dream sequence that hits right in the feels but isn't real because Quinn and Ald are going to live happily ever after.

 

Aren't they?

 

 

I hope so I've been looking forward to lots of stories about Quinn, Ald and the ex-wife!

 

And now that I've mulled things over... who unlocked Ald's force cuffs?

D: My feels, they have been punched... Poor Ald.

FALCON FEEL PAWUNCH!!

 

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but Quinn He'd actually apologized and did the...the stuff...the regrets stuff!! And then...poor Ald

 

...also I'm a little impressed with Vette's vindictiveness...goodness. I get the anger, I really do, but the extent...wow.

 

(Also, yay Pierce!!! Cause <3 Pierce)

Ald's journey with Quinn isn't over yet. [chuckles mysteriously] As for Pierce, damned if that man would not die. I have no idea where Jaesa is (training maybe?), but Pierce was there and being a bad a*s.

 

Can't Quinn ever be happy and alive?

Yes/No.

 

OH LOOK.

 

It's another dream sequence. Another fake dream sequence that hits right in the feels but isn't real because Quinn and Ald are going to live happily ever after.

 

Aren't they?

It's not a dream no matter how much Ald wishes it was. Just wait, there's more.

 

I hope so I've been looking forward to lots of stories about Quinn, Ald and the ex-wife!

 

And now that I've mulled things over... who unlocked Ald's force cuffs?

Don't lose hope, dear reader! For there is more coming! As for Ald's cuffs, well, we'll get to that soon. MUAHAHAHAHAHAAAH! [coughs]

 

 

Thanks for reading everyone!!

*sniff*

 

Write more, I want Quinn and Ald to be happy and alive and together and... *sniffles*

 

This is why I try my damnedest not to kill anyone, it hurts too much!

There are some minor Agent spoilers for Doctor Lokin. If you haven't made it past Taris, you might see a spoiler. So, ya know, spoiler alert.

 

Revival

 

 

Suspended animation. Synthplasma. Feeding system. Oxygen mask. Kolto tank. The body was alive, but was the mind there? He wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know for the days it took to reach the damn medcenter that specialized in these types of cases. He still had his blood on his hands. In his armor. Under his finger nails. Splashed across his face. It mixed and mingled with Talz and Twi’lek blood. A sacrifice to appease the bloodlust. Then emptiness. Nothing, but the cold, dark void where once warmth reigned supreme. His body was here, but was his mind?

 

Ald stared at his reflection in the tank. He looked affright. All blood and rage and tears and sweat and sorrow. Things had just started looking up. Things were changing. Dammit, he was changing!

 

Malavai.

 

Ald stared at the man floating in the tank. What made up that man was more than flesh and bone and blood and muscle. Without his mind, was he really Malavai?

 

Ald reached to him through the Force and was met with chilling darkness. That flicker of life. That flame. That torch that man carried… gone. Something ached inside of him and he knew it to be his heart twisting and lurching and tearing and falling.

 

Crushed.

 

When the medical staff boarded the ship, he numbly followed them. He could hear them talking quickly. Medical jargon here and there, but even they were resigned to the man being dead. Still, they disembarked with Malavai in a temporary tank and admitted him for treatment. When they arrived at the medical facility, Ald was sent to a room to wait. Pierce was somewhere, he couldn’t remember where. He didn’t really care where. He needed to take his mind off things. So he paced and paced and paced, knowing Malavai was dead. Hoping beyond hope that he wasn’t. That some sort of bloody miracle would come about and revive him. Something. Anything.

 

Then he heard it. Panicked screams and blaster fire. He drew his sabers and ran toward the commotion. What fool would attack someone inside an Imperial hospital? A dead fool. Bloodlust thrummed in his ears. A very dead fool. He rushed into the room and froze in place. Malavai was up and moving. Attacking. Shredding. He turned to him and Ald inhaled sharply. Gone where his sharp blue eyes. Gone was the slight pink flush to his cheeks. Instead he looked unnaturally pale bordering on light grey, his eyes strangely glowing white orbs, the sclera greying, that strange wound on his side pulsating grotesquely and bubbling black.

 

Recognition flashed in those white orbs. Ald shuddered.

 

“Ald,” this bastardized version of Malavai said. His voice wibbled and wobbled unnaturally. There was a backdrop of gurgling in his voice. It sickened Ald.

 

“Malavai?” Ald asked the quivering grey form.

 

“Yes,” he replied. He took a step forward and stumbled. “Feel strange.”

 

“You’re dead. You died. You were murdered. You’re –” Ald’s throat constricted. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted his Malavai back, not this – this monstrosity.

 

“How-?” the thing asked. Then it reached for its left side and knew. “The necrotizing bacteria from Balmorra? The reports… yes, makes sense.”

 

Some part of him was still there, thinking, maneuvering. Would it be enough? No, no it couldn’t possibly be enough. It would never be enough. The thing moved again, this time to the bed, and sat down. Did he even notice the blood covering him, the dead on the floor? Could he hear the panicked screams of the masses? He had to get whatever this was out of this place, back on the ship, and take care of this himself.

 

“Modified rakghoul virus,” the thing explained, its back to Ald. “It never took hold on Balmorra. Infected taken off world. Treated on Taris. Could never connect the dots.”

 

Ald idly twirled a saber in his hand. He should kill him. It. Whatever this was. Kill it and move on. Grieve in peace without this undead reminder haunting him. Something stopped him. The research.

 

“Can understand if you desire to kill,” the thing said. No, no, Malavai said.

 

“I do,” Ald said quietly. Despite his words he deactivated his sabers and clipped them to his belt. “Your research stopped at Taris?”

 

“Yes, no access. Project with no name, no facilities. Perhaps subjects simply released into wilds. Propagate rakghouls.”

 

“Can you control yourself long enough to leave this place?”

 

“Best to bind.”

 

Ald pulled a small tether from a pouch hidden under his armor and slowly approached Malavai. The man didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t shudder. Ald listlessly tied the creature’s wrists together. He vaguely heard Pierce’s voice out in the corridor. The Lieutenant was already on damage control. How strange. How fortuitous.

 

“Stretcher would be best. Cover with blanket. Reduce suspicion,” the man said quietly. His voice still sent Ald’s stomach reeling.

 

“This bed has wheels,” Ald said stiffly.

 

The man nodded and laid down. “Good enough.”

 

Ald shuddered as he covered Malavai’s body with the white sheet on the bed. It felt so much like putting the man to rest. Giving up on him. But he was alive, in some form. It sickened him, this state of undeath. Could they find a cure? Would Malavai be reduced to a slavering rakghoul, hungry for flesh and blood? No. No, he would kill him if it ever came to that. Release him.

 

He shuddered at the thought and suddenly wished Malavai had stayed dead.

 

 

Back on the ship, Ald untied the creature’s wrists. Malavai’s wrists. His stomach lurched. Malavai had tried to warn him. The Force had tried to warn him. Hell, common sense had tried to warn him. He didn’t listen. He didn’t want to let go of Vette and now she was dead and Malavai was – he shuddered again. He wasn’t technically dead. Rakghoul were alive and sentient. But this creature wasn’t Malavai.

 

While Ald sat in the galley, staring at nothing, Malavai made his way to his quarters and back. He returned to Ald with his datapad in hand and in full uniform. Ald almost laughed. He wanted to laugh. Even in this state, the man was still proper. It gave him a sliver of hope that Malavai was still in there, fighting, holding off death. He had been fighting that disease or bacteria or virus or whatever since bloody Balmorra. Surely he had enough fight in him to – to – to what, Ald wasn’t sure. To cure this, maybe? He didn’t want Malavai suffering in this permanent state of limbo. He remembered. He remembered when he struck out against that wound. Malavai nearly howled in pain as he crumbled to the floor in a heap of begging and tears. Was he in pain now?

 

“Lord,” Malavai said shakily. He sat down next to Ald with near perfect stiffness. “My research yielded a name, but the man is difficult to find.”

 

“If he has answers, I will find him,” Ald said stoically. Inside he wavered. Inside he begged. Inside he cried. Stay strong, stay alive. “What’s the name?”

 

“Eckard Lokin.”

 

Ald face palmed.

 

“Know him?”

 

“My adoptive aunt has talked about a Dr. Lokin and his strange affinity for Rakghoul.” He sighed and ran his hand down his face. “I will attempt to contact her.”

 

 

Vacation wasn’t quite vacation without a drink with a little umbrella in it. And fruity. The drink had to be fruity with a little umbrella in it. Maybe a cherry sitting on top? Definitely a cherry sitting on top. And alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. So much so the fruit tasted sour, but not sour enough to imitate rotting fruit. That would be disgusting.

 

“Cipher, there is an incoming call for you,” Vector announced over the comm.

 

Damn. She set down her drink and sighed. Vacations were always painfully short in this business. She made her way to the holoterminal and found a very familiar Sith Lord looking down at her.

 

“Aldy!” she said happily.

 

“Hello, Driana,” Ald said formally.

 

She frowned. “What has happened?”

 

“I can’t say over the feed. I’d like to arrange a meeting.”

 

“Of course.”

 

A meeting on Taris. Three days. Bring Lokin. Such a strange request. She made the arrangements, of course, she was an Agent above all else.

 

 

Those three days had been stressful, to say the absolute least. The first day, Malavai refused to eat cooked food. He wanted raw meat. Flesh, he’d said in that creepy undulating voice of his. He couldn’t contain himself when presented with fresh, bloody meat. He was an animal, shredding and tearing and gnashing and gnawing. Devouring. He retained enough sense to take off his tunic before eating and somehow managed to keep the blood from his meals localized to his hands and face. He always cleaned his hands after a meal. Ald shuddered at the memory. Malavai always thanked him after a meal. He hated it.

 

The second day saw Malavai confined to the cargo bay. Something on the ship was upsetting him. Some noise that only he could hear. Ald finally found the damn thing in Vette’s belongings. It was a small holocom, buzzing with a message. He opened it and watched as Vette’s tiny blue, perhaps a little bluer, form popped up and waved.

 

“Hey, Ald and crew! If you’re seeing this, I bit it. Sucks, yeah, but you’ll get on fine so long as Quinn doesn’t smother you in your sleep. Broonie, keep being a murder machine and watch Ald’s back. Jaesa, seriously, get a boyfriend, become a Lord, and get your own Twi’lek side kick. Make sure she’s blue! Pierce, you loveable giant, we had fun. Blow something up in my honor! Love you guys. Catch ya in the Force or Void or somethin’.”

 

He crushed the comm in his hand with a burst of raging energy. He couldn’t tell when she recorded this, but it didn’t matter. She was dead and he had killed her and that was that.

 

By day three, Malavai’s skin was dark grey. His irises and pupils had completely washed out to a glowing white and the sclera had turned nearly as grey as his skin. He didn’t seem to mind the physical change so much as he minded the sheer amount of pain he was in.

 

When they made it to Taris, Ald put a stealth generator on Malavai's belt and bound his wrists together.

 

“Stay quiet, stay alive,” Ald said grimly.

 

“Lord,” Malavai said, nodding respectfully.

 

Ald activated the generator and nodded to Pierce. The larger man nodded back and fell into step as the three disembarked.

 

 

“Ah, my old stomping ground,” Lokin said fondly.

 

“I remember the first time I saw you,” Driana said fondly. “You were a creepy old man in a darkened room surrounded by bloody Rakghoul.”

 

Lokin chuckled. “I remember the look on your face when you saw me transform from a Rakghoul back into a man.”

 

“Creepy old man.”

 

“If I didn’t know any better, Cipher, I would say you didn’t like me.”

 

“I didn’t. Then I got to know you.”

 

“Aren’t you sweet.”

 

Driana laughed quietly. “Ald won’t be here for at least two hours. However should we spend that time together?”

 

“You are utterly insatiable, Cipher.”

 

Driana chuckled and pushed him to a nearby counter. Lokin couldn’t help the chuckle bubbling from his throat as his Cipher pulled him down for a kiss. He did love her enthusiasm.

 

 

Ald arrived at the agreed upon location two hours later. He deactivated the generator on Malavai and untied his hands. They would need the extra set of hands should the Rakghoul converge. The creatures seemed interested until they noticed Malavai. Grey, unnatural. Disgusting. To Ald’s surprise, the Rakghoul left the group alone even ran when they got too close. They sensed something, knew something, had experienced something to do with people… creatures like Malavai.

 

When Ald and company located Lokin and Driana, the two were conversing politely. That was, until, Lokin laid eyes upon Malavai. Ald had never seen a man move that fast in his life. Lokin was all over Malavai, poking, prodding, muttering. How interesting, how interesting.

 

“He has that Balmorran variant!” Lokin said excitedly. “Cipher, please being me my pack.”

 

Driana chuckled to herself and grabbed Lokin’s pack from the counter. She followed Lokin as he steered Malavai to a fairly sturdy examination table.

 

Ald watched silently, trying to stay as unobtrusive as possible. It was hard when Malavai looked so frightened and so… hungry. Ald had prepared for that eventuality. Malavai’s hunger had grown steadily since he boarded the ship. Ald slowly approached the exam table and fiddled in his satchel. Malavai turned to him with those glowing eyes silently begging for a bit of meat. Foul creature. No, no. Don’t think like that. It’s Malavai. He’s still in there. Don’t give up hope. Stars above, don’t give up hope. He offered a bit of meat to Malavai. The man very nearly lunged for it.

 

Lokin made a strange noise in the back of his throat.

 

“I’ll need to do a full work up on him, physical examination, scans, take blood. May I?” the doctor asked. There was a slight bounce to him as he moved to his supplies and pulled out everything he would need.

 

“Yes,” Malavai said between bites of meat.

 

“Oh, my, he speaks!” Lokin said excitedly.

 

“How many of these cases have you encountered, doctor?” Ald asked evenly.

 

“I daresay all of them, my boy! Somewhat of a resident Rakghoul expert.”

 

“That’s putting it lightly,” Driana said with a small laugh.

 

“I do wish to maintain some humility, dear Cipher,” Lokin chuckled.

 

Driana laughed.

 

“Is this condition curable?” Ald asked, getting them back on track.

 

“Not that I know of.”

 

Not what he wanted to hear.

 

“But this is the strangest case I have ever seen. Thank you for the files, by the way. Helped a lot,” Lokin said offhandedly. “If I can get a culture going, I can look into this further, but this will take time.”

 

“How long until he fully turns?” Ald asked quietly. He didn’t want to hear it, really. He didn’t want to hear how long he would have to suffer, how long Malavai would have to suffer until – until it was time to put Malavai down.

 

“There’s no telling, really,” Lokin said gently. “I’ll let you know when I get a culture going. Once I know what we’re dealing with, bacteria, virus, genetic modification, I’ll have a clearer answer. Shouldn’t take long. The rakghoul disease loves to breed.”

 

Driana and Lokin chuckled at a quiet joke between then. Ald scowled. He didn’t want hard answers, not really, but an answer that wasn’t an answer, wasn’t an answer! He wanted to scream. He wanted to cleanse. Cleanse the mud. Cleanse the toxic lakes. Cleanse the rain. Rain down blood. He wanted to hunt. His nostrils flared.

 

“Malavai, I’m going to hunt for fresh meat. Stay here with Pierce,” Ald said. His eyes turned hard as he said, “And don’t kill any of them or get yourself killed by attacking. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Lord,” Malavai agreed quietly.

 

The unnatural waver to his voice settled thickly in Ald’s stomach. He had to leave, had to get away, if just for a few moments and Malavai would need meat soon. He would hunt. He would think of the jungle and hunt and kill and feed and survive.

 

As long as he was on the hunt, he could forget and dream of the real Malavai in his arms. Holding him, kissing him, never letting him go. He could bathe in blood and pretend all was normal. If only for a little while.

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

 

Edited January 23, 2013 by irishfino

Omg, huge plot twist! An explanation for Quinn's rakghoul customization that makes sense! This is getting very interesting--well, it was always interesting, but it just took a new level in interesting --and I have no idea what could happen next. I look forward to being surprised!

Is there a limit to how many ways you can conjure up to torture Quinn with? Cus this is brilliant.

Omg, huge plot twist! An explanation for Quinn's rakghoul customization that makes sense! This is getting very interesting--well, it was always interesting, but it just took a new level in interesting --and I have no idea what could happen next. I look forward to being surprised!

Surprise! I'm a terrible person!

 

Is there a limit to how many ways you can conjure up to torture Quinn with? Cus this is brilliant.

I have many, many more ways to torture this man... too many.

 

 

Thanks for reading everyone!!

I've taken this post down to think on it some more. I have never been this indecisive on a simple story before.

 

[flails]

Edited January 21, 2013 by irishfino

It was all a dreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeam!