Take Off The Mask

[Alric Kuhn]

He felt her move again, felt her stir, but she did not move or say anything.

Instead she shifted, though he did not see the opening of her eyes Alric somehow knew that she was awake. He wanted to say something outloud he wanted to move or to prompt her to do something, but he didn't.

He lay still, his arms around her, his lips dangerously close to her head.

She deserved this.

Danger deserved to be comfortable, to move when she was ready, to say something when she wanted to. She deserved to be comfortable and she deserved not to be embarrassed...just this once. Just this once he wouldn't do it.

Instead he simply waited.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

A few seconds would tick on past. Thoughts percolated in her racing mind. Finally, she took a deep breath. Her shoulders setting. Clearly she had made some kind of mental decision.

He'd feel the start of her fingers and arms start to shift. Mindful of their position, she would start to draw them away from him, pulling herself apart from the survivalist embrace. Her head would move, pulling back up and away from the arm she'd used as a make-shift pillow.

No glance was spared at his direction either on purpose or by mechanism. Green eyes would blink up, frowning at the glowing embers left of their fire, her body protesting the withdraw of heat that had blanketed her earlier. Goosebumps at the lingering cold would rise under her garb, and she'd start to rub her arms.

A breath came from her lips, a tiny cloud of condensation that said they still had the bite of the chill of the morn.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric made no move to stop her from moving away, in fact he helped her. He shifted the arm that was around her back, moving it away from her and drawing it down her body so that she could move her own arm more easily. He looked down at her, his bright blue eyes shifting down her body.

He admired, but not obviously.

His arm was still somewhat around her, but he did not yet feel comfortable speaking. Alric felt as though right now, silence was the best option.

Danger would likely move in her own time, and he didn't feel the need to press, prod, of mock her. Instead he simply waited for her to do as she needed to do, his own thoughts turning towards the day ahead of them, what they would need to do, and what he would quickly have to grow used to in order to survive here on Tatooine.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

It was like that awkward morning after of a one night stand. Only instead of being able to kick the man out of her bed, she broken a rule.

And stayed the night.

Granted, this was vastly different than waking up after a night of sex and realizing that one did so with the blaring glare of daylight to illuminate ones sins. They had to in order to survive the cold.

The only issue it was the same man who had not a week ago held her in a far more intimate embrace. It was like a belated morning after. Or some weird thing like that. Ugh, whatever it was, it irked her. And it irked her that it irked her.

Her lips would draw thin, the silence only growing between them in this thickening awkward cloud. Feth.

She'd rise, feeling him draw away. Watching her. He was watching her. She could feel it.

Sitting up, she'd start to rub her face, shaking what vestiges of slumber were left. She could feel the grime on her skin, the thick coat of dust and sand. Yeah, she looked like shit.

Great.

A frustrated sigh came next, as did a run of her fingers through her tangled hair. Another grimace. Her head was still tender. What the hell was she doing?


Why was she even here?


Right. Kuhn.

Her emotions were battling each other, and like always, to fill the tension and awkwardness she embraced that which she felt far more comfortable with.

Frustration.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric simply waited.

She would eventually speak, she would eventually make her voice heard, but it didn't really matter. He knew that eventually frustration and anger would rear their heads, but for now he was content with simply remaining silent, watching her.

Right now she was covered in dust, grime, and dirt, but Alric was happy to see her this way.

It was an odd thing, when they had first met she had put on act. The beautiful hostess that loved and cared for everyone. That was the reason he had sent her the dress. Upon their second meeting she had sent a tarty little Twi'lek to lull him, test him, perhaps gain a sense of domination over him. When that hadn't worked her act had eventually gone into overdrive.

Until he had broken it.

His belligerent drunken mind had smashed through the Hostess act faster than his insults of her ever could have.

Alric remembered it well, what he had seen.

The real Danger.

It was what he was seeing now, and he held an appreciation for it.

Eventually however he forced himself to look away, casting his eyes over towards the ceiling and pushing himself up from the sandy ground.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

And as he pushed himself up from the sandy ground so did she; to her feet that is.

Squinting almond shaped eyes would turn towards the entrance of the cave, where the light from the sun would brighten further. Well there were other things to worry about.

Like getting the kark out of the Wound.

They had no speeder. No method of travel. The question was, just where they were going to get it? Her mind kept coming up with different scenarios, biting on the fullness of her lower lip as she'd mull on.

She heard him sit up, every once in a while watching her still. Still quiet. Maybe that was worse. She can deal with an nerf herder. She couldn't peg him now the way he acted. Then again, getting taken by the Tusken Raiders and whipped like he had been could be quite the humbling experience.

Her head finally went turning towards his direction, green locking into blue.

"How well can you travel?" she'd ask. With dawn rising they had few hours before high noon when it would be damn near impossible to travel. But if they could make it to where she'd stashed her supplies...

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He stretched for a moment.

The dull aching agony that had bothered him for a day and a half was now a throb. It was as though he had just been punched repeatedly in the side and the bruises were just now forming. He frowned, touching his sides and massaging them slightly, finding that it no longer burned him to do so.

A slight smile appeared on his face, and he looked up at Danger with renewed confidence.

“Better than a Hutt, worse than an Arkanian.” He sounded almost pleased about it, though perhaps that was fitting considering what he had been like just a day and a half ago. He had barely been able to walk, and now he felt fit enough to run a marathon, a most pleasing result. Smiling, Alric pushed himself up from the floor.

He took careful measure not to move too quickly, he didn't want to create any pains he didn't need to.

Oddly, he still noted that he couldn't feel his back. “Danger...The Aspha.”

That was what she had called it.

“Does it cause numbness?” She would not know of the dullness of the nerves in his back. “Permanently?”

It was a question that suddenly plagued him.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

That question brought pause.

Danger's expression turned stoic. Her head gave a slight cant to the right, eyes narrowing down upon the CEO of Blast-Tech. Thoughts would race through her mind. Blinking rapidly, she would mull quietly before asking.

"What do you mean?" she would ask, seeking clarification. There was a creeping forebearing at that question, one that would only increase seeing the rather plagued expression that ran across his face.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He had his answer.

It wasn't a side effect of the Aspha, it was a side effect of what had happened to him specifically. He was no medical professional, but he knew enough anatomy to guess at what had happened. The nerves in his back were either gone or dead, silenced permanently for one reason or another. Perhaps the pain from the serum, or the bite of the whip, or the cutting of his flesh that Danger had had to do.

It didn't matter.

“I can't feel my back.” Alric said in a monotone that could have broken glass. “It's not numb. Simply not there.”

He set his jaw, hard. A look of sternness crossed his features. His mind was racing, trying to think of all the after effects of this, what it meant, what it would do to him. Alric had thought this an effect that would eventually go away, but he had been wrong.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Silence ensued.

Then, Danger took a step forward. "Turn around." she told him, her voice a flat low tone. "Take off the robes." Perhaps a phrase that at another time and said by another would have been a welcomed request. Not today. Not now.

Her brow was drawn together; her expression contemplative.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

There wasn't any argument from him. He turned around and undid the small cloth knot that he had tied to keep the robes in place. Of course in reality they were more like loose fitting large bandages. They came off of him surprisingly easily, and now that the pain had subsided into a dull throb the soft material almost felt good on his skin.

When the last of the bandage like robe fell away, Danger would see what his back had become.

The Aspha had done its work, but in a strange way.

His skin was completely regrown, the muscle, the blood vessels, everything had returned back into place, however something was also wrong. Massive wrought lines of pink stretched from his shoulder down to his lower back, huge welts and scars that dashed all the way down his side. They overlapped and cut across each other, huge bumps.

Mountains rising from Alrics flesh.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Where taut flesh had once lay over his flank, puckered red welts had keloid over his skin. A sound of another step upon the grit of the ground would forewarn her coming nearness, another brought her to his side.

Danger was silent. Quiet as the grave. What manner of thoughts ran through her mind would be as murky as the black ink of the 'verse. But deep inside, there behind those feline emerald eyes, Dangeruese gave an internal sigh. The corners of her mouth would tighten.

His back was now an uncharted territory with how the new flesh had healed over. It had done its job. It saved his life. But what was left was a marred landscape as violently carved out as the Wound itself.

She gave a sharp exhale then her hand rose. Lightly, aware of the sensitivity the Aspa mold would produce, the tips of her warm fingers would lightly brush over his left flank.

One hand went snaking up...

The mental image hit her. Remembrance to the contrast of keloid scars that now would map his back. Her fingers would start to drift upwards to go --

-- tracing up down the small of his back.
Higher and higher...

...sliding over the flex of muscle
and line of his spine...


A knot formed in her throat, blinking the memory away. Her fingers began to draw back from his skin, curling inward. If he felt the touch, well she figured he'd tell her.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He felt her hand touch at first, the burning sensation made him flinch slightly, but there was only a tight grinding of his teeth as he braced himself against it. Her hand moved up, sliding across the small of his back. More pain, more burning. It felt like hot needles pressing into his skin, a dull aching throb moved along with her palm.

Up.

Up.

Then nothing.

Her hand suddenly disappeared. Not removed from his flesh, not gone. He knew it wasn't gone, but he could not feel it. His eyes cast towards the floor, then shifted slightly, as if he were ashamed. His jaw set hard, and he looked back at Danger, neck twisting in time to see her expression.

There wasn't much he could say.

A profound sadness entered his eyes. Though he had already known that it was so, this simply confirmed it for him. He could no longer feel anything there. The feel of a warm sun, the splash of cold water, the hot touch of a woman. It would all be lost on him. He looked at Danger, saw the expression on her face, stark blue eyes watched her for a few moments before he mournfully shook his head.

“Nothing.” He whispered the word.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

"Nothing." She repeated, her eye drifting over his back. Her expression wasn't one of pity. Just the cold hard set of reality. Wasn't even one of disgust or abhoration. This wasn't a sight that would recoil her. She saw far worse when the wounds were fresh. A deep intake of breath would draw her shoulders squarely.

"But alive." she said simply. That was that. It was true. Perhaps quite the sacrifice and certainly a lesson that would be hard to forget. Her hand would lift again, this time thankfully, without the accompanying memories. Now it was merely an inquiry. How far? How much? To where did it end.

He wouldn't feel the warmth of her fingertips, but he'd feel the pressure. Not all sensation could be truly gone; deep inside therein lay his spine. Her fingers would draw over the firm almost rubbery claw-like slashes of puckered flesh. Up over his left ribcage they went, fingers lightly skimming up until they would reach his shoulder. There, they would spread out to lightly fan over the edges of the intricate script tattoo'd upon his skin.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

She pushed at him, a deep kneading of her fingers, he frowned slightly, but let her continue the inspection.

Shifting slightly, Alric simply allowed her to do as she pleased. Truthfully the kneading felt somewhat good, the pressing of muscles, the pushing of her skin. It oddly relaxed him, made his shoulders slump and his neck relax slightly, the tension draining out of him for just a few moments.

Her hands went wandering.

It was when she touched the tattoo on his shoulder that he shifted slightly. He felt it. Not the very edges, but the top script of the tattoo. Alric frowned, so that was where it left off, where the nerves were no longer dead.

He marked the spot, his eyes shifted slightly as if trying to see the very edges of the ornate writing.

Alric suddenly got a look of grave concern on his face, almost panic. His eyes shot open and his lips turned very thin, his face paled. “Is it...Is it still in tact?”

His words were rushed, clear concern was washed over his face and his heart began to race much faster than it had before. He hadn't thought of it until now. The Tattoo had hardly seemed important when Violet and Fiona had stood before his eyes when he had seen them die and when he had struggled for survival, but now? Now it seemed to be the most important thing in the world.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Her eyes would lift at his sudden desperate question.

His face had blanched, what remaining color draining from his face as if dreading the worst. There was a vulnerability to his gaze; at the worry.

Mentally, Danger gave another frustrated sigh. Her fingers would drift over the dark script. The lines were ornate; thick but had been etched upon his skin with care. Her fingers would bright lightly over it before she would pull her hand away.

"It's fine," she'd sigh out, tired. Pulling back she'd start to turn. "Looks like your nerves run dead from mid back to just shy of that ink." She told him, stepping away.

"Reckon the medic down at Mos Eisley could likely tell you more." she said plainly, turning her attention back to the cave's entrance.

Feth, she needed to get karking home.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

A loud sigh of relief passed his lips. The memorial upon his shoulder was more important to him than many other things, so important that he hadn't even felt Danger trace her fingers above it, something that would normally have caused him to recoil and pull away.

For a brief moment as she walked away he tried to stretch further, get a look at the black ink himself.

Ultimately he discovered he wasn't flexible enough and gave up, deciding instead to reach back over his own shoulder and touch the lines of the tattoo. It was difficult, but with sensitive fingers one would feel the slightest bump of the lines. The ink had been pressed deep causing slight raised lines. Danger would have felt them as well, it was a show of how long he had wanted the memorial to stay clear.

“No.” Alric said as he began to re-bandage himself with the odd Tusken robes. “It's fine.”

He needn't know more.

Alric had felt where her hands had gone, where they stopped and started again. That was enough to gauge the usefulness of his nerves. That along with the flexing, and the pressing of his muscles by Danger, allowed Alric know that at the very least he could still function normally.

As soon as the robes were back across his skin Alric began to pick up after himself.

There would be no hesitation, no stalling, no waiting about to be served on. He had made a decision while she slept, and he would keep himself to it.

He grasped the backpack and the water-skin, slipping the odd metal tube they had used the light the fire inside of it as well, but holding the Blaster that Danger had laid down last night in hand. He shifted for a second, squatting next to the dying embers, then stood up, walking next to her with the abg slung over his shoulders.

Alric was intent on carrying his weight, for her.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger heard him coming up behind her. Loud, like a kid. Another exhale went flowing from her mouth. Up she went, climbing the slight incline up towards the entrance of the cave.

She'd been gone three days. Three days. Flynn would have headed off to her stronghold, trying to get in touch with her. Meant he wouldn't be sending out searching parties just yet. She did managed to get their location off the stars last night, but it wasn't a pretty revelation. They'd best get to her supplies and find a way to travel across the waste towards Mos Eisley or Anchorhead. Maybe reach one of the outposts before they made it into any city proper.

Drawing to the mouth of the cave, Danger began to adjust the leftover lengths of fabric she utilized as a scarf. Squinting in the approaching light, she'd start to pan her gaze. Before her lay the deep carved crevice of the wound. Early morning mist would fog down below, what manner of moisture in the air that the moisture farmers would gather from the eerie mists that would rise at twilight. Little light was here, more would be illuminated once they'd start to climb back up.

But there was the pressing issue that perhaps Tusken Raider look outs were dotted along the rimline. Not to mention other hazards..

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He followed.

Loud as a child he may have been, but Alric made a decent enough pack mule. He had intended to give the blaster to her, but before he could She had already made her path to the entrance of the cave. He frowned slightly, but didn't say anything. Instead he kept the blaster in his hand, not clutching ti tightly but ensuring that it remained away from the sands.

It wasn't like he was a crackshot, but if there were Tusken patrols he wasn't about to go down without a fight.

Not again.

Never again.

Alric squeezed himself through the opening of the cave, thankful this time for the fact that they had managed to find him some clothing to wear. The throbbing in his side worsened as he squeezed through the opening, but he managed to ignore it. He came out onto the Ledge and found Danger surveying the area where they had come from.

He smiled at her, and opened his mouth to say something, turning away from her as he did so and looking in the other direction. “Where di-.”

That was all Alric managed to say as his eyes opened wide. In front of him, to what he guessed was the South Alric found a sight that not only scared him, but grated him to the very inside of his bones. His jaw fall open, and his already chapped lips seemed to crack even more as he saw what lay before him. He placed a hand on Dangers hip and pulled at her.

A massive wall of sand, all consuming and all encompassing rushing forward like a great avalanche.

"Kark."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

The corner of Danger's mouth would purse, lips thinning into a straight line. Her mind would echo the same curse, but there was no time to waste. They had previous minutes.

"Give me the saber. " she would curtly tell Alric. " We won't be able to travel in that." She was well used to sandstorms. She knew what she had to do. Small blessings that they at least had the cave for shelter.

Out in the distance, the incoming howl of the storm would bear the forewarning of what was to come. Several kilometers in height, it was a testament to what powerful climate forces would carve the arid desert planet.

"Gather as much of the dry brush as you can," she would start pointing as specific flora around him. Perhaps to him it was all the same. But they would need kindling. And it was easier to get him to grab the safest of what they would need to forage while they still had time and light.

"Take them back into the cave." Her head would swivel to him, there was a tightness to her features.

"Go!"