8! and I'mma call it regularverse!gurielJanuary 28 2012, 20:09:15 UTC
[The thing about not being Ben's Guardian any more is that when something grabs him, Guriel's not always right there to know about it -- and he's cursing that fact now, because any delay is a bad, bad thing when his brother's in the hands of the enemy . . .]
[Hours. The demons have had him for hours, in a doorless, windowless, cinder-block room filled with shackles and torture implements. His back is shredded, several bones are broken, he's been stabbed multiple times with multiple things, and he's barely conscious and fading fast.
One of them unchains him from the whipping post in the corner and tosses him onto the floor into a binding circle with, yep, more shackles. The restraints go around his wrists, spread out to each side, his waist, and his ankles together, so he looks as if he's being crucified on the floor. Even more so when they hammer silver spikes through his hands. One of his wrists is bound across the circle, but the rest of his body is inside it.
One of them apparates a large wolfsbane plant out of thin air and drops it on Ben's chest. The roots wiggle and writhe and catch on the stab wounds between the ribs on the right side of his chest before burrowing in, wrapping around the bones and taking nourishment and air from that lung. He can't move, can't breathe, can't
( ... )
[It takes Guriel way, way too long to finally catch the faint trace of Ben's auxiliary Grace, rippling out from a black, black hole of corruption, and he streaks towards it like a comet, appearing in the room crouched and bristling and ready for a fight . . .
And there's nobody here but Ben.] Oh, oh brother, oh, Ben, look what they did to you . . .
[He's half out of his head with pain and delirium.] Trap it's a trap you have to go they'll do this to you next and they can't kill me but they can sure as hell kill you please just go Guri please...
[He's making a noise on every exhale.] At least don't step in the circle.
[He huffs, blood bubbling up between clenched teeth.] Hurts it hurts don't want them to hurt you like this it's cold and it burns and I can't I can't breathe... [His ears buzz while blood pools under his back.]
Easy. Be easy. I'mma get you out of here . . . [Guriel crouches down, lays his cheek almost on the floor, eyes the magic and the sigils and the trap woven on the floor. Then he closes his eyes, concentrating, calling out, until a thick black magic marker materializes in his hand.] You just hang on, brother, I gotcha. The Lord is my light and my salvation . . .
[And he goes to work defacing those sigils one by one.]
...whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life...
[He can't feel his face. Or... much of anything at this point. His entire world is fuzzing out.] Got no strength of m'own, Guri... think... I might... be dy-- [And he loses consciousness.]
Nononono, Ben, come on, stay with me . . . [The marker flies across the floor, the sigils warp and the magic snaps a bit at a time until the trap is nothing but a bunch of useless shards of magic, and Guriel lunges forward and yanks at the restraints, tearing them free, easing the silver spikes out of Ben's hands . . .]
[Which is when three large and toothy demons pop into the room, grinning. "Why, lion cub. How good of you to join our little get-together." The spokesdemon holds up a hand. "Leave the wolfsbane, if you please. The last thing we need is your puppy getting up at an inopportune moment and spoiling our fun."]
[And Guriel snarls at them, all bristling fury and wounded pride, and his sword is in his hands and his wings are spread wide.] Bastards. You wanted to lay a lion trap? Well,
[And he springs, swift and shining and very very pissed.] Now you caught a lion!
[And they laugh and laugh and laugh, their own weapons coming out and meeting him gladly. Ben awakens to the sound of clanging swords, but he can't move. Or breathe, still.] Oh Guri oh God no please just get out please I can't-- [And he lapses into incoherency again.]
[Guriel doesn't listen; he's too busy lunging forward, striking, streaking away, slashing and kicking and stabbing, furious and shining.] You hurt my brother! Not on the free list!
[The demons cackle and strike back. One of them dissolves into goo even as it aims its sword at Guri's center of mass, and Ben closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see. "Of course we hurt your puppy, little brother," one of the remaining ones says. "How else were we to get you here, on our ground?"]
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One of them unchains him from the whipping post in the corner and tosses him onto the floor into a binding circle with, yep, more shackles. The restraints go around his wrists, spread out to each side, his waist, and his ankles together, so he looks as if he's being crucified on the floor. Even more so when they hammer silver spikes through his hands. One of his wrists is bound across the circle, but the rest of his body is inside it.
One of them apparates a large wolfsbane plant out of thin air and drops it on Ben's chest. The roots wiggle and writhe and catch on the stab wounds between the ribs on the right side of his chest before burrowing in, wrapping around the bones and taking nourishment and air from that lung. He can't move, can't breathe, can't ( ... )
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And there's nobody here but Ben.] Oh, oh brother, oh, Ben, look what they did to you . . .
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[He's making a noise on every exhale.] At least don't step in the circle.
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And I'm not leaving you here. Don't ask me to.
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[And he goes to work defacing those sigils one by one.]
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[He can't feel his face. Or... much of anything at this point. His entire world is fuzzing out.] Got no strength of m'own, Guri... think... I might... be dy-- [And he loses consciousness.]
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[And he springs, swift and shining and very very pissed.] Now you caught a lion!
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