Take Off The Mask

[Alric Kuhn]

In that moment Alric Kuhn doubted that anyone had ever felt as much agony as he was in. He doubted that even the famed Embrace of Pain could have hurt this much, that such a thing was an impossibility, that this was a torture far grander than any that could be endured by mortal man.

He felt like a man flayed.

His head began to spin, his thoughts began to twirl, and his vision began to go dark. His Sisters, once so pure, once to engrossing and enveloping, once so loving and stoic, turned into walking corpses.

Horror plastered across his face and he began to scream, clawing towards them, trying to catch them.

“NO! NO! NO!” He gave every breath, every sound, every little thought towards them, trying to save them. He didn't feel Danger hand on him, trying to sooth him, all he felt was the thumping of his heart, the growing of his own skin, and the fear of watching his sisters die. “SAVE THEM! WHY? NO! SAVE THEM!”

He thrashed, trying to move, trying to lurch towards the image of Vi and Fi burning away, buildings crumbling. “THEY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!”

They turned from happy faces, to skull, screaming in agony.

“Why? Why did they have to die?” His head turned to Danger as deep sobs ran through him, pleading with her. Tears streamed down Alrics face, a mix of whatever fluid was left in his body.

He cried, he thrashed, he screamed, the world around him melted. He embraced the pain, he pulled it to him, he struggled and held it, and then allowed it to take him. There was no more fighting, no more resisting, he simply took it.

There was no point anymore.

Darkness took him.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Time would be shadows drifting across the walls of the tent.

They were left well enough alone, perhaps the cries and howls of pain from Alric were enough to warrant the Tusken Raiders from keeping their distance.

Or maybe they just didn't care.

Either way, oblivion came to Kuhn and in that Danger would use the time to pick him up from the floor, brush off as much of the blood, caked mud, and grime, and lay him on the cot face down.

He looked like shit. She didn't fare any better either.

She spent her time sitting on the floor next to him. Her hair was a birdsnest. She stank to high heaven, and she was pretty sure it would only get worse. She held the bladder of water in one hand, and every now and then she'd force some of it down Alric's throat.

Granted, he objected to it. The first few times were met with the precious water dribbling down his cheek and onto the floor. It ended with Danger taking a big swig then placing her own mouth against his before forcing the water for him to swallow.

That was the cycle. She would stay awake, every now and then smearing more of the mold concoction onto his back, giving him a swig of it as well, then forcing water down his throat in a makeshift kiss so he would swallow it down.

Minutes turned to hours until finally -- Dawn broke.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

They said that being in a coma was like a deep drifting sleep. That you couldn't feel or see anything, but they were wrong.

He saw flashes of what was happening, or more truthfully he felt what was happening. Danger moving him about, cleaning him, kissing him to ensure that he drank. He felt all of these things, the way she cared for him, the way that she ensured his survival, and he even felt the growth of skin on his back, the scars growing and his flesh returning up until they reached the deadened nerves.

The worst of it was the pain.

He still felt the pain.

Where Danger had not carved away the nerves, where his senses had not been deadened, thats where he still felt it. On the creeping edges of his back, on the bottoms of this shoulders and the lower reaches of his spine he felt such stinging pain that he thought it impossible. Within the void there was nothing he could do, nothing he could use to fight it, all he could do was lay there until he finally awoke.

To him, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed.

Minutes? Hours? Days? Weeks?

Within the void of pain that he had felt he would have guessed the last. To him the hurt and agony had extended the passing of time into eons, and even as he awoke the dull throbbing pushed at him, threatening to take him back to that abyss.

Alric let out a loud groan as his eyes opened, settling directly on Dangers face.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Was it Danger?

It would be a rough call. The woman who sat leaning against the side of the tent would blearily look at Alric through thinly slit green eyes. Her hair was dirty, nappy, with auburn wild strands sticking to her grimy cheeks and neck. She wore clothing that would match that of the Sand People; light hued desert robes and pants that were stained dark with blood -- his blood.

She sat with both knees drawn up, legs slightly parted, wrists resting on top of her knees. Her expression was unreadable, but the weariness would be evident across her face, the dark crescents of a lack of slumber under her eyes.

"I wouldn't move much if I were you," came her low drawl. It was thicker, with a rasp and twang often not heard of in the Trade Queen. At least in polite company.

"Might have grown a new back but the fire will still lick your nerves." that was all the warning he was gonna get, as two fingers would gesture to the half empty water bladder under his cot within arms reach. Her eyes closed shut to rest her eyes.

"Hydrate."

The low voice, while barely audible held no quarrel.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Grow a new back?

He couldn't feel his back. He could feel his sides on fire, the lower half of his spine, he could feel needles stabbing there over and over again, but his back? He felt nothing. The hurt was still evident, so evident that breathing was hard, but there was nothing at his back. He should have felt something, the pain, the wind, something.

Slowly Alric reached backwards placing a hand on his shoulder, then sliding it down the blade and onto his back. The sensation of his fingers on his skin stopped as he reached the end of his shoulder blade and a look of horror crossed his face.

He couldn't feel anything, not with his back.

His fingers however, his fingers felt the touch of new flesh, of pink with raised scars.

His fingers tap danced across his back, his spine, and then touching the center of it. He was fairly flexible, so doing all this wasn't difficult, especially with the panic setting into him. The pain in his sides and lower back were briefly ignored in fear and confusion, returning only when they grew so hot that Alric had to curl up in pain.

“How...” He asked softly, his voice raspy as could be and his eyes falling on her. “How the hell?”

Alric realized that aside from the stabbing pains in his lower back and sides he felt fine, better than he had before even being captured by the Sand People.

How the fuck?

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger didn't move, she didn't even open her eyes. Just said the following single terse word.

"Hydrate."

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric eyed her, but he didn't argue.

He hadn't forgotten. Through all the pain, the agony, through the hurt that he had endured, he still remembered what he had done, what Danger had done for him. He knew very well that without her he would have long been dead, there was no arguing with that, no insulting, no jokes.

Danger had saved his life, it was as simple as that.

With fumbling fingers and stabbing pain Alric began to feel around under the cot, grabbing at things until he found what he was looking for, the waterskin. With an audible groan he pushed himself up on the cot, the stabbing pain in his nerves striking him, but after the agony of the past day they felt like pinpricks.

He moved slightly, and raised the waterskin to his lips. The liquid was like pouring water onto ash. It did nothing to quench his thirst, and reality he could have drained an entire river of its contents, but he didn't even empty the skin.

Alric for once, was thoughtful.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

"Sip it. Slowly."

Her voice instructed. If he drank in gulps he would only end up throwing it back up. Her expression was still unreadable, what thoughts lay beneath the grime and blood up in the air.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric did so.

Again there wasn't any argument. No one could ever say that Alric Kuhn was ungrateful. Rude? Yes. Extortionist? Yes. Ruthless? Yes. Murderer? Maybe, but definitely not ungrateful. The least he could do was follow her instruction.

He drank slowly, small sips quenching the ash in this throat. He stopped however when the waterskin was nearly empty, leaving just enough for if they needed it later, if she needed it later. He knew he would, but he wasn't about to let Danger die after saving him.

That thought stung him.

His head snapped around, and he suddenly realized where exactly they were.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

The sounds of early morning risers would come through the leather of the tent. Off in the distance banthas would give a bleat or two, the heat of the morning suns rising as they began their ascent.

For an invalid, Kuhn was certainly making a lot of noise. Not to mention using energy he shouldn't.

"Lay back down." she told him, taking a deep breath. Thankfully, her nose had well adjusted to the lovely lingering aroma of shit , blood, and piss.

"Rest. Aspha is still workin' through you and ain't done yet."

That was as much as she was going to tell him now. The small leather pouch lay under her shirt, nestled safely there.

"If you see queer things, ignore it."

Her voice was getting more husky; she was exhausted with her mind still racing on her future and just what to do next. The next slide of a creature on the dejarik board. Had to think, had to process the next move plus the following five.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

“It sounds like I'm not the one who needs to rest.” He didn't doubt he needed to, but she sounded as though she were balancing on the edge of a knife.

Alric stopped for a few seconds.

He didn't want to insult her.

Funny how that was. Five days ago that had been his primary goal, insult Danger Arceneau to a point where she broke her mask, gain the upperhand, then sell Blas-Tech to her for far more than it was actually worth. Instead he had slept with her, broken her mask, and become somewhat enthralled by what he had seen and experienced.

Then she had saved his life.

He frowned, his lips thinning. The pain in his side was still there, a dull throbbing of the nerves. He could feel it beneath his skin, and when he touched it the pain sky rocketed to knew heights. His frown turned to a scowl when he did so, though he quickly changed the expression.

“Offer her the cot.”

A voice rang out behind him causing him to whirl around and try to face whoever was speaking.

He found nothing.

Perplexed, Alric looked for a second more, whispering something “Fi?”

His head shook, knowing that such a thing was impossible. Fi was dead. Fi was gone. She couldn't speak to him anymore, as much as he wanted her to. Shaking his head, Alric decided it was his own thought, his own idea.

“Take the cot. You need it, we can switch.” The throbbing continued, but he pressed it down. “I'm sure I can heal just a fine sitting down.”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

"Lay back down."

If she was thankful for his offer, she didn't show it. Nope. Instead her words were terse. Direct. No nonsense. She just sat there with her knees up, legs spread, and leaning against the tent. Her head was just slightly tipped back, using the taunt strain of the leather wall as a makeshift pillow.

It was clear she wasn't getting up anytime soon.

"Don't be stupid."

Wasn't like they were in any rush to go anywhere.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

“She won't listen. She's like Vi.”

His head snapped to the side again, again hearing that resounding voice within his ears, as if Fi was right behind him. This time it was clearer, more present, as if she was standing right at his side. Of course when he looked there was no one there and his eyes turned to saucers.
“There's nothing you can say to convince her. She knows better than you. Your hearts in the right place but honestly, look at her, you ain't forcing that girl to do anything she doesn't want to do.”

The voice spoke to him as though he were an idiot, just like Fi. “You were the one that told me to do it.”

He grumbled under his breath before looking back at Danger.

She was already half asleep, and there was no way that she would be moving, but neither would he. Sleep was no longer and option, and in his head the realization had dawned on him exactly where they were, exactly what situation they were in.

Both of them sleeping right now would be bad.

So instead he simply watched her, quietly.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

She wasn't much to watch.

Danger rode the line between awake and nodding off, resting as much as she could. In her mind she was already thinking of how long would be before Flynn would get curious about her not answering the updates. Likely a week -- or two. She came home to find some peace and quiet, and he wasn't gonna bother her none since that was her expressed desire.

Granted, with the bounty set on Kuhn's arse and him keeping her updated, that might cut down the time. Especially once that bounty hunter's story made its round across cantina to cantina.

Maybe a three days tops.

From there Flynn would start asking, likely coming on over to the stronghold himself to check on her. If he didn't find her there, he'd think perhaps she went out for a days ride. He'd wait, quietly like he was want to do for another day or so. When she wouldn't return that's when he'd start to wonder.

He'd start sending search parties, starting at a vector within a days journey from the Stronghold. From there it would spread out. He'd stumble over the outposts, asking about what manner of vagrants running through. If anything stuck out. Likely her rather curious attention to Kuhn's capture by the Tuskens would come into play. She might have been disguised, but her keen interest would take notice.

Then if he stumbled on the Jawa clans...

Yeah, that would be another couple of days -- so a week thus far. If he got to Bahbit -- then he'd peg down which Tusken Raider settlement. Making it about a little more than week.

A little more than a week under Tusken Raider captivity. That could mean life or death. Especially if they were going to use them for bloodletting or as a sacrifice. The options were many on what a captured sapient could be used for.

Her lips would tighten to a grime like.

Blast it all to hell!

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric simply sat there in silence. Every once in a while one of the voices would speak to him. It alternated now between Violet and Fiona, switching off.

He tried to ignore them, but it was difficult. Especially with his thoughts were skipping around what situation they were in.

It wasn't good.

“Just wait. She'll get there.”

“Don't speak, she'll just yell at you.”

“Maybe if you....nah don't try that.”

A thought entered his mind, a fleeting idea of how to get them out of here. It was stupid, very stupid, and with the pain sliding through him it was likely part of his delirium, but he too was concerned with their lives, but first he needed Danger to go to sleep.

He smiled slightly, he knew what to do.

“Alric. Seriously. Please. Don't do that.”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

"Go. To. Sleep."

Her voice would cut through the silence with a rather ornery edge. Perhaps she was starting to get aggravated? Either way, she didn't move other than her lips when she said those terse words. Eyelids were still closed, but she could tell the bastard wasn't listening to her.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric didn't listen to her, they were simply playing chicken now.

See who would fall asleep first.

Violet and Fiona stood behind him, grinning down at Danger.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

No response prompted her lids to open a fraction of an inch. Glittering green and highly unamused eyes would lock upon Kuhn.

Fether.

Doesn't listen.

"Why in the blazes did I save your ass?" Came the mutter under Danger's breath, shaking her head.

"Fine. Do what you will."

Her lids closed again. Her patience was short and he was a grown ass man. He could do whatever the feth he wanted. She was done.

"I'm not saving your skin again."

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He let out a deep sigh, then shifted on the cot.

“Can't help but listen to pretty girls can you?”

Violet snickered behind him.

Alric still didn't really understand their presence, nor did he really want to understand it. Their voices were exactly how he remembered them, their laughs, their smiles, the sound of joy radiating through their voices, it was how they had been when he last saw them, back on Empress Teta, back before...he caught a flash of something, his sisters corpses burning into ash.

His hands grasped the cot firmly, and his head began to spin.

The memory was so thick in his head, so real, his pupils became pin needles and his lips thinned of all blood. He remembered them burning, he remembered them...melting. His heart stopped, and he felt bile in his throat.

He forced it down, pressing it low and holding his stomach, taking in a deep breath so nothing could pass.

When it settled, he looked around for his sisters, both were gone. Ruefully, almost mournfully Alric lay back down on the cot.

“Danger.” Alric said quietly, there was no mockery or hint of amusement in his tone. “They weren't real were they?”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

There was a long pregnant silence. Expectant. Full.

Her lashes would flutter open, focusing upon the roof of the tent. She would watch the wind shudder across the pliant leather, see the floating specks of dust that would fall. Blinking, she would take a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs. The tent would start to feel warmer now, the Twin Sun's light filtering through the animal skin of the tent.

Finally, Danger's voice would relay the following without venom or bite. Just resigned and edged with bleak remembrance. A low hush.

"As real as the demons that hide in your mind."