Post by Zane Lucifer Bishop on Jul 8, 2008 11:58:07 GMT -5
Zee had felt so sure D'rorah would help, but Keaira's thoughts presented him with abundant doubt. It was true enough that he had brutally tortured her love, and that was sure to affect her judgment some. She seemed an eminently practical being, and as he thought about it, it may not be practical to risk her own life to save his. She was the most knowledgeable, best trained Lightfighter, the one they all looked to. He was feared and despised and was fairly certain the vote to expel him from the group would be nearly unanimous if they could simply reassign his elemental powers to another. Could it really be called practical to risk losing her to save him when they could all simply let him die and hope for a less controversial Elemental Master of Metal to arise in his place?
Alessandro, aside from leaving a sour taste in Zee's mouth whenever the boy came up, could not be relied upon. He had never seemed particularly grateful for Zee's part in rescuing him and the sacrifice of flesh Zee had been forced to make. True enough the entire ordeal was likely nothing but a blur to the unstable boy, but Zee still felt unappreciated. He was having a very difficult time reconciling the Alessandro that lived in Keaira's memories with the one he was aware of, especially concerning Darko. She must have known the boy better than he did, but it was hard to believe Alessandro had been the kind, loving person she'd thought in light of his attack on Zee and the belief the Slytherin still held that the Ravenclaw was responsible for Wysteria's death.
As far as the others were concerned, Zee couldn't disagree that they would shed few tears on account of his suffering. He had seen it in Caitlin's eyes, and perhaps Susan's as well. Certainly in Dylan's. They wanted him to hurt, to suffer the way Dylan had. They just didn't want to be the ones who made him suffer. That would shatter the illusions they held before their own eyes that they were all good people and Zee was the scum. None of them knew as far as he could tell that he had already experienced some of that pain. He had felt his flesh burn and had known the killing force of sectum sempra as it nearly took off both his right arm and his head. More recently he had received some deep scars while protecting all the others from Caira's wrath. But then how could any of them know? He wasn't about to go flashing his scars and bragging about them. For the most part he hid them as carefully as D'rorah hid hers. The crescent slash across the left side of his neck was covered over by his high collars, while his long sleeves covered both the nearly complete ring around his right bicep and the more recent acquisition from the headmistress. From elbow to wrist on his left arm spiraled down the phrase 'I will consider carefully before aligning myself with the losing side,' more than a dozen times. It looked as though it had been carved into his skin using a scalpel, but like the blade was twisted as it wrote on him. The lettering was neat and precise, but was thicker than one would expect from such a sharp blade, almost as if each cut had been held open for the duration of the healing process, forcing the skin to extend far over it and ensuring a clearly defined scar. Caira had been most angered with him for not giving in to her earlier persuasion attempts. Crushing her hopes of catching multiple Lightfighters the night they had retrieved D'rorah from the woods had driven her to punish him.
He felt Keaira's offense on his behalf and hers concerning the way the others thought of him. He hadn't ever thought about what it implied about their trust in her. He didn't quite agree though. Zee doubted they thought of her as in league with him, that she wouldn't warn them if she knew he planned to hurt one of them. Rather he felt they had demonized him so much that they felt he would be able to hide his true intentions even from her. Likely they all felt pity toward Keaira for having to be bound to such a monster. In truth he didn't much disagree with that thought. The greatest pain for Zee was that no matter how much he had changed, he had not forgiven himself for all his past deeds nor for the the dark thoughts that sometimes threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't so long as the others didn't. He didn't see how. He did after all deserve their hatred, did he not?
Listening to her words, Zee smiled bitterly beneath his hands. Indeed, he was a creature of logic, and yet despite his evident changes, he still felt unworthy of anything. Yet he also couldn't deny her simple observations. He absolutely wouldn't have gone to all this trouble, risked his health and his life in such ways, simply to set up the perfect torture session. He was not going to turn on any of them, regardless of his fleeting urges. Feeling her attempting to uncover his eyes, Zee resisted for only a moment before giving in. He hadn't expected her to be so close and took a sharp intake of air. At her final words, he simply kneeled there and stared the short distance to her eyes, his expression giving away nothing. Nor did his thoughts as he simply sat and processed everything she had said.
Perhaps it was rash, presumptuous, but Zee did it anyway. As her lips parted slightly to take in a deep breath, Zee leaned forward and softly pressed his against hers. After a moment his right arm slid around her waist, holding her securely and pulling her into him. His left hand came up to gently caress her cheek as his lips pressed in more fervently, his passion rising. Soon his left hand had moved up, his fingers slipping into her hair as he lost himself in their kiss. His thoughts blended into hers, a chaotic swirl he couldn't begin to unravel and had no intention of trying. He was aware of nothing other than that he was with her, but that was more than enough. Nothing else mattered.
Alessandro, aside from leaving a sour taste in Zee's mouth whenever the boy came up, could not be relied upon. He had never seemed particularly grateful for Zee's part in rescuing him and the sacrifice of flesh Zee had been forced to make. True enough the entire ordeal was likely nothing but a blur to the unstable boy, but Zee still felt unappreciated. He was having a very difficult time reconciling the Alessandro that lived in Keaira's memories with the one he was aware of, especially concerning Darko. She must have known the boy better than he did, but it was hard to believe Alessandro had been the kind, loving person she'd thought in light of his attack on Zee and the belief the Slytherin still held that the Ravenclaw was responsible for Wysteria's death.
As far as the others were concerned, Zee couldn't disagree that they would shed few tears on account of his suffering. He had seen it in Caitlin's eyes, and perhaps Susan's as well. Certainly in Dylan's. They wanted him to hurt, to suffer the way Dylan had. They just didn't want to be the ones who made him suffer. That would shatter the illusions they held before their own eyes that they were all good people and Zee was the scum. None of them knew as far as he could tell that he had already experienced some of that pain. He had felt his flesh burn and had known the killing force of sectum sempra as it nearly took off both his right arm and his head. More recently he had received some deep scars while protecting all the others from Caira's wrath. But then how could any of them know? He wasn't about to go flashing his scars and bragging about them. For the most part he hid them as carefully as D'rorah hid hers. The crescent slash across the left side of his neck was covered over by his high collars, while his long sleeves covered both the nearly complete ring around his right bicep and the more recent acquisition from the headmistress. From elbow to wrist on his left arm spiraled down the phrase 'I will consider carefully before aligning myself with the losing side,' more than a dozen times. It looked as though it had been carved into his skin using a scalpel, but like the blade was twisted as it wrote on him. The lettering was neat and precise, but was thicker than one would expect from such a sharp blade, almost as if each cut had been held open for the duration of the healing process, forcing the skin to extend far over it and ensuring a clearly defined scar. Caira had been most angered with him for not giving in to her earlier persuasion attempts. Crushing her hopes of catching multiple Lightfighters the night they had retrieved D'rorah from the woods had driven her to punish him.
He felt Keaira's offense on his behalf and hers concerning the way the others thought of him. He hadn't ever thought about what it implied about their trust in her. He didn't quite agree though. Zee doubted they thought of her as in league with him, that she wouldn't warn them if she knew he planned to hurt one of them. Rather he felt they had demonized him so much that they felt he would be able to hide his true intentions even from her. Likely they all felt pity toward Keaira for having to be bound to such a monster. In truth he didn't much disagree with that thought. The greatest pain for Zee was that no matter how much he had changed, he had not forgiven himself for all his past deeds nor for the the dark thoughts that sometimes threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't so long as the others didn't. He didn't see how. He did after all deserve their hatred, did he not?
Listening to her words, Zee smiled bitterly beneath his hands. Indeed, he was a creature of logic, and yet despite his evident changes, he still felt unworthy of anything. Yet he also couldn't deny her simple observations. He absolutely wouldn't have gone to all this trouble, risked his health and his life in such ways, simply to set up the perfect torture session. He was not going to turn on any of them, regardless of his fleeting urges. Feeling her attempting to uncover his eyes, Zee resisted for only a moment before giving in. He hadn't expected her to be so close and took a sharp intake of air. At her final words, he simply kneeled there and stared the short distance to her eyes, his expression giving away nothing. Nor did his thoughts as he simply sat and processed everything she had said.
Perhaps it was rash, presumptuous, but Zee did it anyway. As her lips parted slightly to take in a deep breath, Zee leaned forward and softly pressed his against hers. After a moment his right arm slid around her waist, holding her securely and pulling her into him. His left hand came up to gently caress her cheek as his lips pressed in more fervently, his passion rising. Soon his left hand had moved up, his fingers slipping into her hair as he lost himself in their kiss. His thoughts blended into hers, a chaotic swirl he couldn't begin to unravel and had no intention of trying. He was aware of nothing other than that he was with her, but that was more than enough. Nothing else mattered.