The Phantom's Opera

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Raoul de Chagny 10-23-2008 10:58 AM

Vast Dungeons [4]
 
The underground areas of the Paris Opera house were once rumored to have been the romping grounds of Erik the Phantom. The legends have been disqualified as "false," but in present day times the dark depths act as a storing place for everything not needed above ground. Be careful of your step; the Opera Managers take no warning for any events that may occur while underground. Anything or everything could be lurking down there waiting to be discovered...

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Last post:
Quote:

Originally Posted by MystMoonstruck (Post 100817)
Easy "Cat"" Tanner

Between the potent liquor he had consumed and Rafe Chancery's "meds", Easy was more unconscious than simply asleep, still lying flat on his back but having pushed the blanket away as his body's feverishness found the warmth too much to bear. He barely stirred, unaware that his makeshift bandage had reached replacement saturation. He did not hear his private domain being entered and did not feel the weight of an insistent hand on his shoulder.

"Wake-up!" was lost on him though it did provoke a fretful moan and the faintest scowl before his face resumed its masklike appearance. "Can you hear me?"

Somewhere between the command and the question, Easy had begun climbing toward consciousness. The twinges in his side were becoming hard to ignore, and he was beginning to recall that he was not at Sanctuary and that he was somewhere where he should be alone.

At that thought, the golden-brown eyes snapped open, wide and frightened. He had forgotten to switch off the lantern, and, although the glow was diminishing from fading power, there was enough light to see that he had been found out! Gasping, he made a move to push himself into a seated position, getting halfway there before crying out as the wound became a reminder of why he was where he was. Panicking, not recognizing the man in his supposedly hidden shelter, Easy was uncertain what to say or do.

"I~I..." Then, his trembling arms gave way, and he fell back on the padded bedding, his face and body now clammy with sweat, his heart racing at a dizzying rate. "Am I in trouble?" he managed to ask in a voice that rasped in his throat. "I..." He tried swallowing, bringing a slender hand to his throat, feeling the fever in him. "Water?" he squeaked. "Please?" He was trying very hard to hang on to consciousness and later would realize how ill he must have been not to have noticed how handsome his discoverer was.


angelofthenight 12-19-2008 09:19 PM

OOC: For Calvin and Amelia. BIC:

Calvin Booth

Calvin had always been fascinated by all the mental disorders that existed in the world. When he'd taken a phsycology class in high school he'd spent hours in the library researching the disorders that they'd learneda bout. So when he'd decided to hlep Amelia he went stright to library after making sure she'd made it home safetly. He'd stayed there, reading articles, books, and magazines, searching the web, newspapers and encycolopedias for anything that woudl help him tongiht. He'd stayed until the librarin had come up to him and told him that she was locking up for the night and that he would have to go home. Even then he'd checked out five books on the subject and taken them home.. staying up all night reading and well into morning.. still he wasn't sure how to go about helping Amelia cope with her other half. It was only when eh'd been sitting on his couch, looking through the opinions section fo rthe newspaper that it hit him.. and he was shocked that he hadn't seen it before. Griffen seemed to show herself when Amelia felt threatened or in danger.. and he needed to birng her out.. needed to understand why Amelia's mind had split in two.. and the only way to do that was by talking to Griffen.. he kenw it woudl be a difficult feat.. but it could be accomplished.. he would simply need Amerlia's help with it.

So when he'd arrived underground after his shift as a security guard was over he got everything ready. He set up two folding chairs taht he'd brought with him. He knew taht Amelia would get tired after a while of this.. though he wans't sure how long they ewere gonig to have the session.. he supposed until she coudln't take anymore. He lit a lantern, one of three that he'd found around and it illumanted a small paert of the area they woudl be holding their session in. Calvin had made sure that the small room they wer ein had nothing in it that Griffen coud lhurt him.. or Amelia with and he lit a second lantern that he'd managed to hang from the cieling with some menuvering of the rusty handle and the shiny silver hook that hung form there. The third lantern he set on a small talbe, along with his gun and Amelia's pocket knife. When she got here and saw tath he had both of the weapons he hoped that she woudl relax some.. he knew that she ddin't want him tog et hurt but he had no intention of hurting her either.. he woudl do nothing coudl fatally wound her.. though he may have to be a bit rough wiht Griffen if the creature got out of control... it was for that reason that he'd also brought a taser and a first aid kit.. boht thing eh hoped he woudn' thave to use.

Calvin turned on the flashlight that he had, made sure that his handcuffs were securely in hsi pocket along with his phoen.. he didn't think he woudl need to call for help.. he was more concerned about claling for an ambulance for Amelia.. he coudl protect hismelf from Griffen but he didn't think he coudl protect Amelia from her.. it woudl be a difficult task and he hoped that it woudlnt' come down to that.. he sincerely prayed to God that all would go relatively well.. or.. as well as coudlb e expected when you were doidng somethign like this. Calvin sat down in one fo the chairs beginning to fiddle with his flashlight, tossing it up the in the air and catching it he began to whistle a rather cheery christmas tune. He wasn't afraid..a took a lot to scare him.. but he was anxious.. he hoped that he coud help her some how.. the this woudln't be a futile attempt.. that both of them woudl leave this evening unharmed and feeling good aboutt he progress theyd' made.. but there was nothing Calvin coudl do now. he'd done his reasearch. he'd gotten everything he thought he might need.. for the 'just in case' and the 'what if' senarious and now all he codul do.. was wait.. wait for Amelia.. and Griffen.. to come.

He turned his eyes up tot he cieling and recaled what they'd talked about before they'd parted ways at the champs. He'd tried to give her some insight into what he'd experienced in Iraq to prove to her that the wasn't afraid fo what Griffen coudld o to him and in truth he wasn't. Slowly he unbuttoned the shirt that he wore and untied his shoes. He had scars on his legs as well but those weren't nearly as bad as the ones on his back from the barbed clubs that he'd been beaten with. He allowed his fingertips to trace a particular scar that wrapped partly around hi neck, it looked pink in the glow that the flashlight cast and though it no longer pained him and he inwardly winced as he ran his fingers along it. Next he untied his shoes and reomvoed his socks, stuffing them back itno his convers befroe he allowed his eyes to rest on his feet. From the top, his feet looked normal, unscathed by antyhing except a few small surgical scars but when he turned them over Calvin felt his own stomcah heave in dissgust. He'd lived with the scars for over two years.. and yet to look at them like he was now.. made him physiclaly ill. He clsoed hsi eyes, trying to fight back the screams that he heard in his mind.. screams of the memories.. what was the hardest thing was knowing that the scremas were his.. that the cries of mercy came from him as he dargged himself out of the room and into the damp underground dungeon that he'd come to call home. He'd whimpered as he laid on the ground, his back and feet bleeding and he knew that he wouldn't live for a few hours longer. It had been thent aht he'd seen the shirt on the body of his dead comrade.. and he carwled over to it.. pulling it off as he contiued to whimper..e ach movment more painful then the last. Somehow he managed ot get the cloth around hsi feet and roll onto his back into a small puddle of water that had formed. The water helped his aching back and the cloth slowed the bleeding of the sknless soles of his feet.

The rest had been a blur to him. He'd gazed up at the cieling, the cell had been completley quiet. He coudl hear men somewhere above him talkin in Arabic and he'd reached over to the dish with the stale bread and moldy cheese. Calvin ate both items ravenously, ignoring the acrid taste of the cheese and the hard crunch of the bread as he chewed them. As he laid back on hi back he heard a gunshot and though instictively he wnated to drag himself into hiding he didn' thave th strenght and he just laid there.. wincing in pain as light filled the cell that had been dark for the past two months and then he heard the voice.. English voice.. American.. he knew those voices.. because he'd beocme close with some of them. he fetl tears sting his eyes and as he felt someone standing over him he managed to roll his head weakly. All they scremead was that someoen was alive and then everythign went black. When Calvin woke up he foudn hismelf in a hospital in New York.. Jared and Camille stood clsoe by and bnadages covered every inch of his back while a cast covered his entitre lower body. He recaleld trying to eat for the first time, the way his throat seemed to close whenever he tried to drink or eat. Eventually they'd been forced to hook him up to an IV and feed him that way.. starting out with things like applesauce and pudding, slowly moving from there. Calvin was not looking for pity from Amelia.. but he knew that she would ahve questions about what had happened to him.. and in an attempt to conquer her darker side hew oudl do his best to be honest with her.. and he knew that the best way to start was to show her the scars of which he spoke.. hopefully then.. she woudl truly believe that he coudl handle Griffen wihtout a gun.

Dark Angelic Wolf 12-20-2008 04:51 AM

Amelia ‘Griffin’ Nightwing

For the first time in almost eight years, Amelia was terrified. The thought of what awaited her in the dungeons of the Opera House sent fear streaking through her veins. But she was able to control that fear. She had been able to push it back behind the walls she had spent rebuilding since she had gotten back from the Champs. Agent Booth had kept insisting on letting him walk her home and finally she had relented, figuring it was best just in case her bruised back wanted to act up. After she had gotten in, she had immediately showered, allowing warm water to soothe the sore muscles as best as it could. Then after she had eaten lunch, she had laid down on her bed studying a certain point on the headboard. This had allowed her to slip in a mediation like state. By concentrating on that single point and her breathing, Amelia had been able reconstruct her mental walls that would, hopefully, help keep Griffin under control. When she had come out of it, day had turned into night and she was more tired than she had been after she had come home. If that was even possible. So, after being sure to apply the ointment to her cheek, she had went to bed. But even then, she barely gotten any rest. Whispers in the back of her mind made promises of pain for the man who had said he would help her. She had tossed and turned most of the night, trying to make the voice go away and somehow ease her worry for the next day.

She had finally gotten to sleep around three in the morning and slept until twelve. She took her time getting ready, trying to conserve as much energy as possible. Arriving at the Opera House just in the nick of time, Amelia had been kept busy for two straight hours with complex dance maneuvers. She probably should have been taking it easy with her sore back but she had just pushed through the pain, focusing on what she loved instead of what she feared. But the time had finally caught up to her and rehearsals ended at five. She had went back to her apartment, showered quickly, and change into some clothes that she felt would be more appropriate for underground places. A black long sleeved shirt with black jeans and her regular black shoes with flames along the bottom. A trench coat that went down to her ankles flowed behind her. She decided to leave the red bandanna home, letting her white bangs caress her forehead. And with that she proceeded to where she was now, under the Opera House looking for a cop she had only met yesterday. Part of her wondered if he would actually show up but she squashed the thought.

Moving through the tunnels almost silently, Amelia came to the place where Agent Booth had told her to meet him. She stopped at the entrance way, hidden by shadows, she studied the room where he had set up at. Two folded chairs sat on either side of a small table. On table sat a lantern and two other objects she couldn’t identify from her position. Two more lanterns illuminated the area; one from the ceiling and the other from the floor. Agent Booth sat in one of the folding chairs with his shoes and socks off. His shirt was unbuttoned and he seemed to be staring off into space. He was trapped in a memory only he could see. She briefly wondered if he was thinking about his time in Iraq. She remembered how he had mentioned it to her while they were still at the Champs. Though she had not questioned him about it, she hoped he would tell her more about it. He had been through something that she considered worst than her own experience. She had pondered how he had stayed sane through it all. And while she felt sympathy toward him she did not feel pity for him. She held too much respect for him to feel such a thing.

Deciding it was time to let him know she was here, Amelia moved from the shadows and spoke quietly, “Agent Booth…” She must have startled him for he turned sharply allowing her to catch a glimpse of a pink scar that ran along his neck. She examined for it a moment before moving closer to the table. Now that she was in the light, she could see that the two objects on the table were her pocket knife and his gun. At the sight of the gun, relief swept her system. “So you brought it anyway.” She looked up at him with a hint of a relived smile. No that she knew he was not defenseless, she felt a little more at ease. She moved over to the other chair and turned it around so that she could sit in it backwards with her arms resting on the back. She laid her head on her arms and gazed intently at the man across from her. A heavy silence settled over them, one filled with anticipation and nervousness. Growing slightly anxious, Amelia spoke, “What do you want to do?”

angelofthenight 12-20-2008 06:03 AM

Calvin Booth

Calvin was silently reliving a nightmare.. soemthing that still haunted his dreams and casued him to wake up in a cold sweat. That was one reason he was grateful he hadn't shared hsi bed with a woman since coming back from Iraq.. he knew that if he woke up livid and as terrified as a frightened child it woudl probably freak her out. The only people that knew that he'd suffered from severe insomnia becasue of his experienceces were Camille and Jared. They'd taken him in after he'd gotten out of the hospital.. which hadn't been utnil after he could keep down solid food and sit up in a wheelchair. He'd recaleld numerous occasions that they'd roused himf rom his sleep, claiming that he was screaming like hell was at his heels. Calvin hadn't remembered the dreams at first and so when he felt his body trembling and the fear he would often beg either Jared or Camille to stay with him.. or atlesat leave the light on.. he'd hated the dark for years after.. he hadn't been able to sleep in a bed and he remembered how he woudl wake up in the middle of the night as both Jared and Camille tried to coax him back into bed.. though he woudl often end up on the floor anyway.. for whatever reason he coduln't sleep in a bed.. even now.. two years later.. he still had a difficult time sleeping in a bed.. and more often then not he would often fall asleep on the floor.. and hope that he wasn't plauged with nightmares.

He'd gone through hundreds of therapy sessions both group and individual to hlep him cope with the truama of what he'd expereinced. One of his therapitst had told him to keep a jouranl and that ws something that Calvin did.. every night he woudl write in it.. recording the day's events and his thoughts on each thing.. he'd never been much of a writer but it didn't matter when he wrote in his journal.. half of the time he coudl barely understand what he'd meant when he went back and read it a second or third time.. but that was alright.. becasue no one ever saw it but him. He knew that according to all the doctors he should've lost his mind. Watching as other people got tortured and slowly died. Listening to their moans and pleas for mercy and then for death woudl elave him forever scarred emotionally. He would never be able tto watch movies with torture scenes in them. Jared had tried to get him to watch it and Calvin, disgusted with the way Hollywood made fun of very real things taht were going on in the world angered him... he'd noticed that hammers.. when he got to close to them.. made him shiver involuntarily... mkain git seem as if he had a nervous twitch.. but those side effects were only minor to what had happend to Amelia.. what had happendd to her.. was perhaps one of the msot extreme side effects of traumatizing experience.. she'd separated the good memoreis fromt he bad.. and the bad had taken a life of their own.. now Calvlin's goal.. was to bring those lives back together.

Calvin was well aware of Amelia before she spoke but eh couldn't bring himself to aknowledge her presence until she broke the silence firat. “Agent Booth…” Even though he'd known she was there the sound of her calling his name in the silence of the cellar.. the way the noise echoed off the walls and reverabarated throught he room startled him and he visilbly jolted and looked at her. She'd turned her gaze to his gun and he followed her gaze. Stnading up he stood above the table as she walked closer to it. “So you brought it anyway.” she muttereed with a relieved smiel and he forced a smile of his own. She'd asked him to bring his gun.. she'd said nothing about it being loaded.. and he wasn't about to tell her that yes he had brought his gun.. but it was basically useless shoudl he get in any real danger. He knew most woudl consider it suicidal to be doing anything remotely like what he was doing without some way of defending himself.. but he was practicallyw twice Amelia's size and significently stronge rhten her.. even with Griffen's intelligence and strength he was confident that he coudl handle it without having to pull a trigger to do so.. the knife was just to add to the effect of what he was tyring to do.. he wanted her to think that he coudl defend himself.. he was certani it woudl put her more at ease with the whole situation.

He sat back down in his seat. leaving the gun and the pocket knife on the table. She moved to the other chiar and sat on it the opposite way. He made no protest to this.. whatever she was comfortable with was fine with him. He continued to watch her as she rested her chin on her arms that she folded across the back of the chair. “What do you want to do?” she asked and he mentally prepared himself for what he'd been planning to do. "I' want to prove a point..." he said seirously as he gazed at her. He didn't want her sympathy or her pity for what had happened to him what he was about to tell her.. he didn't need it and it wouln't change what had happened toh im.. but someoen needed to knwo the whole story... and if it woudl help Amelia overcome her own problems that she'd obtained becasue of her own traumatic experience then he was glad it was her. He knew that the story wuld leave him vulnerable to Griffen because she too woudl hear the story and be able to use his words agisnt him if she wished.. but he was ready for that.. knowing that it woudln't be Amelia saying it but her constant companion... the little voice in her head that lurked just below the surface of her sanity.. ready to overtake Amelia's mind at the slightest provocation.. he was ready for that.. but what he wans't sure he was ready for.. was reliving what he'd been trying to forget for almost three years.

"I told you breifly of what happened to me in Iraq.. and I"m sure i left you with a lot of quesitons..." he began slowly, choosing his words carefully and hoping that she would listen... for she was the only one that would ever know the full story other then Camille and Jared.. who had listened to him recount the nighrmares that he'd experienced for months after his return home. "and I'm hoping ot answer those questions..." he told her as he met her gaze with his brown eyes that were distant and anxious.. as if he was waiting for something to happen. "The day seemed no different hten any otehr day.. and I had no idea as I put my uniform on that it woudl be the last time I'd see the sunrise for a long time..." he took a deep breath, emotion already overtaking him as he continued. "We'd gotten a call from a nearby camp that there had been bombings about seventy miles East of us.. my unit, consisitng of nine men including myself.. were ordered to go see if there were any survivors... as we were driving an explosion was triggered as one of the trucks rolled over a landmine.. and I remember being blindfolded..a nd draggged away from the trucks.. then I hit my head.. and blacked out.." he pasued as he turned his gaze to the ground, closing his eyes for a moemnt he looked over at her and then continued on with as much composure as he coudl master.. though his voice sitll seemed to tremble with the weakness that this brought out in him everytime he spoke of it.

"I woke up.. and I remember being so hot.. my mouth fel tlike sandpaper but when I opened my eyes I couldnt' see my hand in front of my face. I tried to move but discovered that my hands were tied behind my back and that I was lying face down in the dirt. I coudl feel bugs crawling on me and I tried to sahek them off but when I did so I just fel tmore and after a little while I gave up on that.. I started searching for somthign to drink and I managed ot menuever myself along the wall a couple feet. When I felt something wet and drank what ever it was only discover that it was warm..a nd tasted like blood..." he pasued, trying to tell her the best he coudl without completley braking down. "I dont know how long it was that i laid there before our captors came in.. they held flashlights and I couldnt see there faces as they looked at each of us individually in turn. They asked if any of us spoke Arabic and one of my comrades raised his hands.. so he soon became our translator. and through him they imformed us that if we cooperated we could leave sooner then they planned for us to do so... then they pulled whips out from their pockets and began to hit us as hard as they could.. I remember falling asleep wondering what would await me when I woke up..." he sighed as he shook his head and went on. "That was only the first day... similar things happened.. we were beaten with clubs, whips, poles, and in some cases wooden mallets. I had a comrade who had his tounge nailed ot a board.. another who had nails driven though his hands and fingers.. boht of them died shortly after... one day they strapped me down in the middle of the cell and began to spit on me saying things that I didn't understand then they began to hit the bottoms of my feet with mallets and poles.. shattering the bones in the bottoms of my feet.. but one of them got the idea to take it a step further.. and when they were done with that... they slowly peeled the skin of my feet way with carving knves.. they left us to die.. and a day later..I was rescued.. I was the only survivor..." he let a silence prevail after his long narrative..alllwoign his words to sink in before he finsiehd with one final point.

"I"m sure you're thinking how I could've survied withotu going completely insane.. and truth be told part me has gone crazy from what I experienced.." he admitted as he turend his gaze back to Amelia.. his mind slowly syncing back into the present. "Little things.. theyr'e just little things.. I sleep on the floor more times then I sleep in a bed.. and more often then ot I don't use a pillow or a blanket.. I just lay there and go to sleep.. I hate the dark.. and often sleep wtih the lights on.. I suffer from nightmares and a lot of them tiem I wake up scremaing but can't remember what I dreamed about.." he gazed at ehr for a moemnt, allowign ehr to grasp what he'd told her.. wanting her to see that he wasn't as normal as she thought. "I told you this Amelia.. not becasue I want your pity or sympathy.. but becasue you've experienced difficulties in your life.. and for whatever reason you've chosen to cope with your experiences differently... I'm hoping and I can talk to both you adn Griffen tonight.. and maybe understand more about why your mind has separated itself into two very opposite beings..." he leaned forward in his chair and then slowly stood up. "and I want these scars..." he todl her, turning aroudn so she coudl see the mangled flesh of his back.. covered in scars that looked like some crude stitching done by a sewing machine. "and these..." he lifted up his feet so she coudl look at the soles of his feet.. withered and mangled as if the skin had been shredded and then glued backon by a blind man. He turend back around. "To prove that Griffen can't hurt me.. no matter how badly she tries.. and I want both of you to know.. taht I can't hurt her anyway.. its impossible with an unloaded gun..."

Dark Angelic Wolf 12-20-2008 11:20 PM

Amelia ‘Griffin’ Nightwing

It seemed that Griffin wanted out. She was pushing old forgotten memories to the surface trying to get Amelia to recede to the back of her mind. But she didn’t; she choose to relive the flicks of memories. Gunshots, screaming, thunder and rain; it all flashed before her eyes before she blinked back to present. She tried to focus on something other than the whispering in the back of her mind. The sound of dripping water somewhere further into the dungeons, the slightly damp smell that came with underground places; anything to take her mind off the whispers and the memories. The fact that Griffin was already acting up frightened her slightly especially since they haven’t even started. It made her shiver ever so slightly. The thought of what could happen when they actually began their session… well, she didn’t want to think about it. All she could do was hope for the best and prey that Agent Booth would be fine.

The thought of the cop made Amelia focus on the scene in front of her. Agent Booth had been sitting in a chair when she had entered seeming to be deep in thought. She called his name and stepped into to the light causing him to start slightly and look at her. He stood as she drew closer to the table and gave a slightly forced smile as she pointed out the gun. She could understand that because he hadn’t really wanted to bring it for the simple fact that he didn’t want to hurt her. She was relieved that he had brought it though as she sat down in the chair opposite of him, backwards so that she could rest her chin on her folded arms. She had spoken first in an attempt to get the ball rolling. She had asked what did he want to now that she was here and he answered seriously, "I want to prove a point..." Her brow furrowed in confusion. What point did he feel he had to make? She gazed at him uncertainly as he seemed to mentally prepare himself for something. Amelia shifted slightly in her chair, feeling that Agent Booth was about to tell her something important, something that caused him great pain. She could see it in his eyes, the way they seemed pained. The air around them seemed to hum in anticipation.

"I told you briefly of what happened to me in Iraq.. and I’m sure I left you with a lot of questions..." he began slowly and Amelia’s eyes widened in realization. He was going to tell her more about what had happened to him in those two horrible months. Instinctively, she wanted question him if he was sure he wanted share that part of his past with her. But she knew that if he wasn’t sure then he wouldn’t be telling her now, so she kept quiet, "and I'm hoping to answer those questions..." he met her gaze and she had to battle with the pity that welled up in her chest. She knew he most likely didn’t want her pity or sympathy, for she herself didn’t want it from him or others, but it was human nature to feel something for fellow human beings. She swallowed hard as she pushed the offending emotion down and concentrated on the man across from her. He seemed to be looking past her, seeing something that he alone could see, "The day seemed no different then any other day.. and I had no idea as I put my uniform on that it would be the last time I'd see the sunrise for a long time..." he paused for a deep breath before continuing, emotion already seeping into his voice, "We'd gotten a call from a nearby camp that there had been bombings about seventy miles East of us.. my unit, consisting of nine men including myself.. were ordered to go see if there were any survivors... as we were driving an explosion was triggered as one of the trucks rolled over a landmine.. and I remember being blindfolded. And dragged away from the trucks.. then I hit my head.. and blacked out.." He looked to the ground at this then looked back up at her. Amelia could see that this was taking a toll on him and she wanted to tell him to stop, that she didn’t need to hear this. But she didn’t. Something deep down inside of her broken soul told her that they both needed this. So she let him continue.

"I woke up.. and I remember being so hot.. my mouth felt like sandpaper but when I opened my eyes I couldn’t' see my hand in front of my face. I tried to move but discovered that my hands were tied behind my back and that I was lying face down in the dirt. I could feel bugs crawling on me and I tried to shake them off but when I did so I just felt more and after a little while I gave up on that.. I started searching for something to drink and I managed to maneuver myself along the wall a couple feet. When I felt something wet and drank what ever it was only discover that it was warm.. and tasted like blood..." Amelia felt her stomach turn. When her parents had been killed, their blood had splattered all over the room and her. She could still remember the taste, the smell, and the feel of it. And it made her feel ill just thinking about it so she concentrated on Agent Booth. "I don’t know how long it was that I laid there before our captors came in.. they held flashlights and I couldn’t see there faces as they looked at each of us individually in turn. They asked if any of us spoke Arabic and one of my comrades raised his hands.. so he soon became our translator. and through him they informed us that if we cooperated we could leave sooner then they planned for us to do so... then they pulled whips out from their pockets and began to hit us as hard as they could.. I remember falling asleep wondering what would await me when I woke up..." She watched him sigh and shake his head, "That was only the first day... similar things happened.. we were beaten with clubs, whips, poles, and in some cases wooden mallets. I had a comrade who had his tongue nailed to a board.. another who had nails driven though his hands and fingers.. both of them died shortly after... one day they strapped me down in the middle of the cell and began to spit on me saying things that I didn't understand then they began to hit the bottoms of my feet with mallets and poles.. shattering the bones in the bottoms of my feet.. but one of them got the idea to take it a step further.. and when they were done with that... they slowly peeled the skin of my feet way with carving knives.. they left us to die.. and a day later..I was rescued.. I was the only survivor..." Amelia stared at the man across from her silently. She could see everything as he described it. And it disgusted her. Not the in the way that made her sick but in the way that made her ashamed to call herself part of the human race. She sneered at the table and spoke darkly, “It disgusts me what humans do to their fellow man.” It was more to herself than to him.

Agent Booth broke her out of her thoughts, "I’m sure you're thinking how I could've survived without going completely insane.. and truth be told part me has gone crazy from what I experienced.." She looked back up at him curiously. Though he seemed normal to her, Amelia couldn’t help but wonder what side effects he had. "Little things.. they’re just little things.. I sleep on the floor more times then I sleep in a bed.. and more often then not I don't use a pillow or a blanket.. I just lay there and go to sleep.. I hate the dark.. and often sleep with the lights on.. I suffer from nightmares and a lot of the times I wake up screaming but can't remember what I dreamed about.." She nodded slightly. She could understand the nightmares and the fear of the dark. His mind most likely associated the darkness with the underground cell where he was kept and the nightmares where just memories played back like a broken record. The mind was a cruel thing sometimes. Ask for the sleeping on the floor, well she had no explanation on that. "I told you this Amelia.. not because I want your pity or sympathy.. but because you've experienced difficulties in your life.. and for whatever reason you've chosen to cope with your experiences differently... I'm hoping and I can talk to both you and Griffin tonight.. and maybe understand more about why your mind has separated itself into two very opposite beings..." Her eyes followed him as he stood, [B]"and I want these scars..." She couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped her throat as she saw the mangled flesh of his back. "and these..." She wasn’t even able to utter a sound as he showed her his feet. She looked up and met his gaze as he turned around, true concern shining in her grey-blue orbs. Not an fleck of pity floated in them, just true and utter concern. The scars looked as if they were still painful. But what he said next shocked her, "To prove that Griffin can't hurt me.. no matter how badly she tries.. and I want both of you to know.. that I can't hurt her anyway.. its impossible with an unloaded gun..."

Concerned eyes widened as panic and distress overtook them. He brought an unloaded gun!? Amelia could only stare across at Agent Booth as she let the information sink in. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear Griffin cackle madly. The thought seemed so unreal to her that, without thinking, she snatched the gun off the table and checked it. When she found that it was indeed unloaded, she numbly put it back onto the back onto the table before gripping the back of the chair till her knuckles were white. She clenched her eyes closed as she fought with the distressing emotions and tried to think of something other than the mad laughter that seemed to be getting louder. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” she chanted under breath before clenching the side of her head with one hand. Okay, so what if Agent Booth didn’t have a gun? He still had the pocket knife. Those were the lines that ran through Amelia’s head as she tried to fight off Griffin. “Yes, but that won’t help him now.” A voice that was not her own spoke in her mind. Grey-blue orbs flew open as she jumped to her feet and gave a cry of pain. She gripped her head with both hands now as she glared up at Agent Booth, “YoU fOoL!” The words seemed to shift between Amelia’s voice and a slightly deeper, darker voice as the two personalities fought for control over the same body. Amelia staggered backwards until she hit the wall, breathing sharply through clenched teeth. Her pupils were pinpoints as she stared unseeingly at the floor. “yOu FoOl!” She cried again before her entire body went still. Her breathing slowed as her hands fell to limply to her side. Her bangs fell so that they covered her eyes while her lips were parted slightly from breathing so hard. Suddenly, her mouth curved into a twisted smile before a voice that did not belong to Amelia spoke, “You stupid little fool…” Pushing herself off the wall, the girl moved toward the table with the grace of a predatory. Her eyes were no longer more grey than blue but more blue than grey with a calm fury behind them that seemed to make them glow in the glum. The aura she gave off was of a person who would cause trouble and not worry about the consequences. “Hello, Agent Booth,” The girl’s voice was darker than Amelia’s as she turned the chair around the right way and sat in it before propping her feet up on the table, “I’m Griffin.” She smirked cruelly as she watched the man’s eyes harden. She folded her arms behind her head while leaning back slightly in the chair. The attitude was of one who knew that they were in no danger. “I heard you wanted to speak to me personally,” She shrugged slightly as if that would excuse her interruption of their little session, “so I thought it would be okay if I just took over for a little while.” She waited for the man to speak.

angelofthenight 12-21-2008 07:51 PM

Calvin Booth

Calvin knew that some people would call him stupid for doing something like th is without any means to defend himself. He was confident though.. or hoping more or less... that he woudn't need something.. that Amelia coudl keep Griffen under control to some degree.. and if she coudln't... well he was twice her size and significently stronger then her.. besides he was rather curious to see what Griffen was capable of. He knew that she was far stronger then Amelia coudl ever dream of being and he recalled reading in one of the books that he'd checked oput from that library that daul personalities could exceed the limitations of human beings. Calvin did however, have bullets in his pocket.. and after years inthe army and in law enforcement he coudl reach his gun and load it in a matter seconds should the need arise.. he just hoped that he would never have to.. that Amelia would keep enough of a hold on her subconcious that shoudl the need arise she could hold Griffen back.. he knew it woudl wear her out.. which was one of the main reasons he ddin' intend the first session being so long.. and as Calvin finished his story.. disclosing the fact to her that his gun wasn't loaded he coudl see the horror in her eyes. Curiousity killed the cat...

He knew that there session had begun the moment Amelia moved from her chair and snatched the gun off the table to check if he was ture to his word. He didn't need to look to know that he wasn't lying.. he coudl feel the six bullets clanking around his jacket pocket.. and he reminded himself to only use one when it was absolutely necessary. He watched in silence as she numbly put the gun back on the table and slowly, like a man menuevering in frotn fo a wild animal.. he reached for his gun and slpped it into his other pocket.. he estimated he coudl load it in three seconds.. and eh could only hope that it would b enough time. He noted the way Amelia gripped the chair ina death grip that caused her knuckles to turn white. Instictively hew atned to reach out to her but he kenw that at that moment it was her fight and she ahd to try and overcome Griffen alone.. his help woudl come later but right now he would have to let her battle it out with her other half. His goal was to one day get it so that when Griffen tried to overcome Amelia that Amelia was strong enough to keep her restrained.. he was almost posotive that Amelia woudl never be alone in her head.. but atleast she coudl have some sort of defense agaisnt the creatures that lurked just beneath the surface of her consciousness..

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Amelia was obvoiusly trying very hard to fight it and as she ddi so Calvin got up and turned on a small recording device that he'd brought with him. He hid it in one of the lanterns, hoping that he coudl keep Griffen from getting to it there.. he wanted to record their sessions.. so that he coudl play them back for Amelia later.. he knew for a fact that she didn't rmeember what she did when she was udner the influence of her other half and he hoped that this woudl be another step closer into achieving her goal of self control. Calvin was not surprsied when she jumped out of her chair, giving a cry of physical pain and he felt hismelf inwarldy wince.. wanting to call out to her.. to tell Amelai to fight it... but he wante dto speak with Griffen.. he'd told Amelia so.. and he hoped Griffen woudln't end up hurting Amelia. The girl turned her gaze on him and he gazed back at her as her eyes narrowed into a piercing glare. “YoU fool!” The words seemed to shift between Amelia’s voice and a slightly deeper, darker voice as the two personalities fought for control over the same body. Amelia As the battle raged Amelia staggered backwards and leaned agisnt the wall. Despite his attempts to be indifferent to what was going on in the girls he felt himself rise to his feet.. ready to stop the mental battle between the two jiving personalities. “yOu FoOl!” She cried again before her entire body went still. Her breathing slowed as her hands fell to limply to her side. Her bangs fell so that they covered her eyes while her lips were parted slightly from breathing so hard. Suddenly, her mouth curved into a twisted smile before a voice that did not belong to Amelia spoke, “You stupid little fool…”

Calvin sat back down his chair as the girl pushed herself off the wall and mvoed toward him. The movements of the girl vaguely remidned him of a lioness stalking ehr paey and though that thought wsa rather disconcertain Calvin was given some insight into what part of Amelia had split fromt eh rest of her mind to create a being of its own. Her eyes were no longer more grey than blue but more blue than grey with a calm fury behind them that seemed to make them glow in the gloom. Calvin gazed at her cooly, knwoing exaclty who this girl was.. but knowing also that Amelia was there somewhere.. deep down.. she was still there. “Hello, Agent Booth,” The girl’s voice was darker than Amelia’s as she turned the chair around the right way and sat in it before propping her feet up on the table. Calvin noticed this and wondered if Griffen knew that Amelia had been the one to turn the chair around. “I’m Griffin.” a smirk danced arcross her lips as Calvin's eyes hardend involuntarily.. he knew who she was.. he didn't need to be told. She folded her arms behind her head while leaning back slightly in the chair. The attitude was of one who knew that they were in no danger. “I heard you wanted to speak to me personally,” She shrugged slightly as if that would excuse her interruption of their little session, “so I thought it would be okay if I just took over for a little while.” she told him and then fell silent and Calvin nodded setting a small almsot unnoticable microphone down on the table between them.

"I hope you don't mind if I record our sessions.. it seems that your other half can't remember what happens when you take over.." he said casually as if he was talkign toa long lost friend about the weather or something along thos elines. "I have a couple questions for you Griffen.." he said as he too propped his feet up on the table and folded his hands in his lap. "Tell me... do you feel that you protect Amelia? That you're protecting her from facings omething?" he asked, knowing that the source of why she existed was the purpose she felt she was good for..and if Calvin coudl figure that out then he coudl tell Amelia and somehow they coudl work together to prove to Amelia that she didn't need Griffen for whatever her mind used her for. "Can you tell me about the night that Amelia's parents were murdered..." Calvin removed his feet from the table and leaned forward slightly. "Or are they your parents too?" he asked, another insight into Griffen. If she considered Amelia's parents her parents then there was a common bond between them...s oemthing that hek new they woudl have to snap if Amelia was ever to overcome Griffen. He finished his first round of quesioning with the simple question of. "Does Amelia put up much of a fight when you try to take over?" and with that he felt silent.. waiting for the girl sitting across from him to answer one or all of his questions.

Dark Angelic Wolf 12-22-2008 05:44 AM

Amelia ‘Griffin’ Nightwing

Griffin was unsure on why she wanted to kill Calvin Booth. But she did. Maybe it was the fact that he threatened her existence or the fact that Amelia was growing attached to him. Perhaps it was the combination of the two. Whatever the reason, Griffin knew that she had an urge to kill Booth. Next to the people who had killed her and Amelia’s parents, he was right up there on her list of people to kill before she died. Or got thrown in jail, whatever came first. After all, he was most likely like everyone else they had ever encountered. He said he was going to be there for them but in reality at the first sign of trouble he would leave them. Sure, he may have accepted the fact that she and Amelia shared the same body but he was only helping her other half because he didn’t want anyone to get hurt incase she got ‘out of control’. As if. She was never out of control, Amelia had always listened to her. The girl had never once questioned what she told her to do. She had their best interest at heart. So what if she was the embodiment of Amelia’s anger and distrust of the world? So what if she was a tad bit crazy? It didn’t mean she was all bad. She had a right to exist, didn’t she? But then he had come along and made Amelia feel guilt. Guilt, for heaven’s sake! Amelia had never been guilty before in her life.

Therefore Calvin Booth had to die. He threatened Griffin’s existence and through that, Amelia’s. After all, Amelia needed her. Without her, the girl would have gone mad a long time ago. If only he hadn’t of interfered with her trying to kill that clerk, maybe he wouldn’t be sentenced to death. Besides, the clerk deserved death for accusing Amelia of something she didn’t and then having the gall to attack her. She was only trying to protect her other, weaker half. That, after all, was her job. When Booth had insisted on meeting her, she had begun poking at Amelia’s walls. Why the foolish girl put does up she had no clue. She had been silent for the most part of the rather long narrative, slightly curious about what happened to the man. She had applaud the man for the simple fact that he was only slightly crazy after such a traumatic experience. He could be a whole lot worse than he is now. But when he had reveled the fact that the gun was unloaded, she couldn’t help but laughing. He was a fool to think about coming to this meeting without a decent weapon. The pocket knife meant nothing because it was hers to begin with. She had told Amelia it was useless and then simply told her she was taken over for a little while. But the girl had fought her, causing herself unnecessary pain. Poor thing was a little upset when she had made her call Booth a fool. Oh well, she had won out anyway.

When she had looked up, she had seen the man sitting back in his chair across from the one that Amelia had previously occupied. She had greeted him politely enough while turning the chair back around before making herself comfortable and then introduced herself. Of course, he already knew who she was but she felt that a proper introduction was in order. The way his eyes had hardened had sent a thrill of amusement through her causing her to smirk cruelly up at him before telling him the reason why she had interrupted their little ‘session’. Well, half the reason anyway. An eyebrow raised as she watched the man nod and set a small microphone on the table. "I hope you don't mind if I record our sessions.. it seems that your other half can't remember what happens when you take over.." She smirked at the casualness in the older man’s voice. It seems she didn’t intimidate him. She shrugged, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She snickered slightly at her own joke. "I have a couple questions for you Griffin.." he said as he too propped his feet up on the table and folded his hands in his lap. She raised her eyebrow, she detected a clinking sound in one of his pockets as he moved. Change maybe? She didn’t dwell on it for he had asked, "Tell me... do you feel that you protect Amelia? That you're protecting her from facings something?" She snorted at this. “Of course I protect her, you idiot. Why else would I be here?” She spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then again, it was to her. “I’m the one who keeps her from going insane. Without me, she would be that girl you saw in the alley yesterday. A whimpering child who can’t face the world.”

"Can you tell me about the night that Amelia's parents were murdered..." Griffin stiffened slightly at this. She stared blankly at Calvin as he removed his feet off the table and leaned forward slightly, "Or are they your parents too?" Blue-grey orbs narrowed slightly at him, “Why wouldn’t they be? Amelia and I may be two different minds but we share the same body, the same blood, and the same DNA. It would be foolish if they weren’t.” She totally ignored the other question but instead focused on the clanking noise she had heard again. It sounded too solid to be change and she had a feeling she had heard it before. As she pondered on the problem, Booth asked another question, "Does Amelia put up much of a fight when you try to take over?" Griffin gazed at him through half-lidded eyes and answered absently, “Sometimes. It depends on if she thinks I’m going to kill someone. She doesn’t want us to get thrown in jail. She wouldn’t be able to dance then.” She smirked slightly as she put her feet down on the ground and leaned forward to grab the pocket knife. Flicking it open expertly, she began to fiddle with the blade, carefully running her finger along the sharp side so that she wouldn’t cut it. She stared at with a contemplating gaze as something clicked in her mind. “You know Agent Booth, it wasn’t very nice of you to deceive Amelia like that,” her eyes flickered up to watch him, “you made her think that you were totally defenseless, when all along you had the bullets in your pocket.” She smirked slightly as she watched him for a moment trying to gauge his reaction before going back to gazing at her knife. She didn’t really care if he was surprised or not, she just wanted him to know that she knew he had bullets in his pocket.

“Now I have a question for you,” She flicked the knife closed and turned hate-filled eyes on the man in front of her, “Why are you trying to help Amelia? What is your purpose for this?” Griffin gripped the knife tightly as she hissed venomously, “You do realize that this is futile effort, right? Many others have tried to do what you are attempting but none of them have succeeded in ending my existence.” She relaxed slightly, a confident smirk on her face, “Amelia needs me to cope with the world and her past. You see, Booth, I alone understand her pain. I am the only one who can understand what she has gone through.” She tilted her head and chuckled slightly, “She knows this even if it’s only on a subconscious level. So what can you possibly hope to do? Do you really think you can protect her when you couldn’t even protect yourself or your comrades?” Another chuckle escaped her. She was enjoying the possible pain she was causing him. “Then again, you may have some understanding of Amelia has went through.” She smiled cruelly as she spoke in a mocking voice, “Tell me Calvin Booth, what was it like knowing that you alone survived? What was it like to know that of all your comrades, you were the only survivor? Did you regret it and wish for death or did you selfishly cling to life and thank God for sparing you?” She laughed knowing that she had hit a sore spot. She didn’t care if the man got anger and attacked, she knew she could handle him. Even if he was bigger and stronger than her and had a gun, she was faster and she had the knife. One quick swipe in the right place and he was done for.

angelofthenight 12-22-2008 07:28 AM

Calvin Booth

He recalled the day the FBI had called and asked him to join oen of their teams to work on a couple cases.. it was only temporary of course and so he'd agreed. Something that Calvin had takne advantage of while he'd worked with the FBI was the interrogating techniques that they taught once a wekk.. plus all the hands on experience with actual criminals. Calvin had learned a lot from the people who had taught the classes and the people he'd interogatted. The main thing he'd learned was taht when you were interogatting anyone you coudnl't get angry.. no matter what they said.. if you lost your composure and showed any sign of anger then you'd already lost. That was why he knew taht Griffen woudl more then likely use what he'd told her against him.. but he couldn't let it.. he was already mentally bracing himself for such attacks, telling hismelf that he would not load his gun unrtil he thougth for sure that there was no other way. He hated the thought of hurting Amelia.. in fact it repulsed and he fetl his stomach turn uneasily even thinking about for this moment.. he just hoped.. as he'd hoped beofre.. that it wouldn't come tot hat.. that somehow they coudl make it through this session without worrying about weapons of any kind.. taht they coudl jsut talk things out...

He tried to do his best to learn things about Griffen. He asked her all kinds of aqeusitons and when he asked her if she thought she was protecting Griffen the creature seemd to think he was some sort of mental case by the way she looked at him. “Of course I protect her, you idiot. Why else would I be here?” She spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Then again, it was to her. “I’m the one who keeps her from going insane. Without me, she would be that girl you saw in the alley yesterday. A whimpering child who can’t face the world.” she told him and he simly took a mental note of it.. he woudl have to remember to use that as a tool later int heir session.. he asked her if she considered Amelia's parents to be her parents too he could see the amusemtn in the girl's eyes.. but he didn't care.. the answer to this quesiton.. no matter what it was woudl help him immensely to achieve his goal of helping Amelia overcome Griffen. “Why wouldn’t they be? Amelia and I may be two different minds but we share the same body, the same blood, and the same DNA. It would be foolish if they weren’t.” Griffen pointe dout and Calvin nodded in understand. She was rigt of course.. but her answer had helped him. She considere dherself ot be another half of Amelia rarther then a spearate person altogether like some personalities. He shifted slightly with the bullets clanking in his pocket and he wonderd if Griffen could hear it by the way she seemed to stiffen. In an attemtp to distract her from the clanking in his pocket.. it woudln't make a differenc ereally if she knew about the bullets.. though he woudl ose his elemetn of surprise if she shoudl try to attack him.. he woudl still be able to load his gun just as quickly as he had when eh'd been udner fire in Iraq.. with people being shot down around him.. it was jsut a question of mind over amtter.

“Sometimes. It depends on if she thinks I’m going to kill someone. She doesn’t want us to get thrown in jail. She wouldn’t be able to dance then.” She smirked slightly as she put her feet down on the ground and leaned forward to grab the pocket knife. Calvin fidgeted slightly.. an indiscerable movment to the human eye.. and in darkness it made it twice as difficult to be seen. He wasn't worreid about Griffen attcing him with thep ocket knife.. she woudln't be able to mvoe fast enoguht o do anythign to him. no when the table was between them and Calvin was ready for anything. “You know Agent Booth, it wasn’t very nice of you to deceive Amelia like that,” her eyes flickered up to watch him and he wondered for a moment what she was talking about.. then he remembered hte bullets in his pocket and the clanking they'd been making earlier. “you made her think that you were totally defenseless, when all along you had the bullets in your pocket.” Calvin coudln't help but smile slightly at this. He woudl've been surprised if Griffen hadn't figured out and carefully he remove dhis gun from his pocket and then a bullet. Lazily and nonchalantly he slipped a blullet into the catridge, locked it and then clsoed it.. it was loaded.. and he'd been taking his time.. yet it had still only takne him six seconds.

“Now I have a question for you,” She flicked the knife closed and turned her eyes on him. He returend her gaze with as much coolness and composure that he'd had when he'd looked int he faces of his captors in Iraq.. and just like then.. he was not afraid of beign hurt.. he'd never been afraid of being hurt. “Why are you trying to help Amelia? What is your purpose for this?” Griffin gripped the knife tightly as she hissed venomously, “You do realize that this is futile effort, right? Many others have tried to do what you are attempting but none of them have succeeded in ending my existence.” She relaxed slightly, a confident smirk on her face and he simply sat there, wathcin gher every move with the intesnity of an eagle watching its prey. “Amelia needs me to cope with the world and her past. You see, Booth, I alone understand her pain. I am the only one who can understand what she has gone through.” She tilted her head and chuckled slightly and he couldn't deny that the chuckles was rather chiling.. that it casued s hiver to run up and down his spine. “She knows this even if it’s only on a subconscious level. So what can you possibly hope to do? Do you really think you can protect her when you couldn’t even protect yourself or your comrades?” Another chuckle escaped her and he fought back the urge to get angry.. he had to stay composed. he couldn't let himself slip.. if eh did.. it coudl be disasterious.. to both him and Amelia. “Then again, you may have some understanding of Amelia has went through.” He knew taht she was tryign to get under his skin and he focused all his efforts on keeping ehr out of his head.. and not allowing ehr to penetrate his subconcsious and let her words effect him.

“Tell me Calvin Booth, what was it like knowing that you alone survived? What was it like to know that of all your comrades, you were the only survivor? Did you regret it and wish for death or did you selfishly cling to life and thank God for sparing you?” she asked and Calvin gazed at her for a long moment as a silence settled between them.. a silence that was as thick as the dust that lay on the walls and floor. "Do you thinkyou're smart Griffen? Do you consider yoruself clever?" he asked her seriously as he stood up and adjusted the lantern slighlty so that the light fileld the room better. "Yous ay that you are protecting Amelia.. that you are helping her.. but I wonder.. perhaps it is you who are the coward.. perhaps it is yout aht is weak.. you hide behind her like a rabbit hiding in its hole.. and come out only when you think you can do someoen some kind of pain..." he murmered as he sat back down. "That seems a bit.. cowardly to me..." he said nonchalantly as he took the bullet out of his gun and held it in his hands once mroe. "As to me regretting my existance.. I may wonder why I'm the only one that survived.. why God spared me.. I was the only soldier who had nothing.. no one to come hoem to.. and yet I survived.. I consider myself lucky..." he said seriously as he gazed at her. "On the other hand.. I pity you Griffen.. you live such a pointless existanc.e. trying to protect someone who doens't even need yoru protection.." and with that he felt silent.. waitn to see the reaction taht his words had reaped.

Dark Angelic Wolf 12-23-2008 02:24 AM

Amelia ‘Griffin’ Nightwing

If living inside Amelia’s head had taught her anything, it was to never take anything at face value. When not dancing, her other half spent most of her free time watching people. She could tell a lot about a person by their posture, eyes, and voice. She could tell even more about a person by their hands as well. It was because of this that Griffin knew not to underestimate the man across from her, no matter how annoying he was. The way he watched her and spoke told her that while he was not intimidated by her, he was still considering her a threat. She also noted the way he seemed to be concerned for Amelia. While this annoyed her to no end, she figured it was for the best. Since he felt that he could most likely take her out easily, it would make it easier to kill him later. Oh yes, she was going to kill Agent Calvin Booth but not now. She would let him think that he was winning before swooping in for the kill. The look of shock on his face would make it all the more sweeter. Of course, she would probably have to lie a little to her other half. Maybe say that he attacked her first and she was only defending herself. Then Amelia would have no choice but to relay on her to get over the grief of being betrayed once again. And through this, Griffin would secure her existence.

She was slightly annoyed by the cop’s questions but humored him anyway. She answered the rather obvious question of whether she thought she was protecting Amelia with a yes. When he had asked if Amelia’s parents were hers also and she had told yes and the reasoning behind her thoughts. All Booth did was nod and shifted in his seat slightly. Griffin stiffened when she heard a clanking noise resonate from one of his pockets. As she pondered on what the noise was, she answered his final question absently. When she finally figured out what the noise was she smirked before shifting her position so that she was sitting properly in the chair. She grabbed the forgotten pocket knife and flicked it open before she began to toy with it. Then she explained to the cop how wrong it was for him to make Amelia think he was defenseless when he had bullets in his pocket all along. The reaction was not what she expected. Booth just smiled slightly and she watched him remove the gun then the bullet from his pocket before loading said gun. Though the action was lazily done, Griffin felt that it had some sort of purpose behind it. She raised her eyebrow slightly, “Was that suppose to prove something?”

After flicking the knife, Griffin begin her own questioning of Calvin Booth. She wanted know why he was doing what he was doing, what his purpose was for all of this. When he had sat there in cool composure, she had informed him that others who had tried the same thing had failed. But he had just sat there watching her. It was infuriating. But she had relaxed and told him that Amelia needed her, that she was the only being on earth that could understand her. Asking him how he planned to protect Amelia when he couldn’t protect himself or his comrades brought an amusing flash of anger to his eyes before, disappointingly, he squashed it. She then told him that he might have some understanding for her pain before asking him a serious of cruel questions. Griffin had hoped for some sort of attack or some flash of emotion but all Booth did was sit there and stare at her while a silence settled over them. Her amused smirk fell to a frown as the man asked, "Do you think you’re smart Griffin? Do you consider yourself clever?" She watched him stand up and adjust the lantern so that more light filled the room. Unsure of what he was trying to get at, the creature answered with thoughtful look, “Define clever.” She rubbed her thumb along the side of the closed pocket knife as the man sat down.

"You say that you are protecting Amelia.. that you are helping her.. but I wonder.. perhaps it is you who are the coward.. perhaps it is you that is weak.. you hide behind her like a rabbit hiding in its hole.. and come out only when you think you can do someone some kind of pain..." Griffin’s lip lifted into a snarl at this. How dare he call her a coward and weak! If she hadn’t already planned on killing him before she sure was now. "That seems a bit.. cowardly to me… he said nonchalantly as he took the bullet out of his gun and held it in his hands once more. Her entire was as tense as a bowstring, ready to spring at any second. But she hesitated. The gun was still in his hand along with a bullet and even though it wasn’t loaded, she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the thought of getting shot. She knew she could just throw the knife at him with a simple flick of the wrist and probably distract him long enough to get around the table. But even then there was a possibility that he might be able to load the gun before she could really do anything. So she just stayed in her seat, growling menacingly at him. "As to me regretting my existence.. I may wonder why I'm the only one that survived.. why God spared me.. I was the only soldier who had nothing.. no one to come home to.. and yet I survived.. I consider myself lucky..." Blue-grey eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed at her, "On the other hand.. I pity you Griffin.. you live such a pointless existence. trying to protect someone who doesn’t even need your protection.."

She nearly lunged then and there but instead she growled, “My existence is not pointless. Nor do I need your pity, Booth.” She tried to relax her tense body before she spoke, “You never answered my question, you know? What reason do you have for helping Amelia?” She narrowed her eyes slightly, “You only just met her yesterday and you still want to help her, even if it means putting your job at risk. There must be a reason other than wanting to protect innocents, otherwise you would have just had her arrested.” She paused for a moment. It was obvious that Booth felt some sort of connection between them but it wasn’t their tragic pasts. No, it was something else. The cop had an almost fatherly affection about him. But that couldn’t be true because one would have to know what it was like to be a father and Griffin had not seen a wedding ring on his hand. But that didn’t necessarily mean that he didn’t have kids and even then he was unlikely to form such a bond with Amelia so quickly. Unless of course, he had lost one/both of his parents tragically. The thought caused Griffin’s brow furrow in confusion. If this was true than the man most likely felt sorry for the girl. But she knew that, because of his own experiences, he wouldn’t let himself feel pity for Amelia. So what was it: did he feel fatherly toward Amelia because he felt sorry for her or because he had kids of his own. “What do you feel toward Amelia?” the anger was mostly replaced by curiosity, “and why?” She knew it wasn’t what he was expecting but she couldn’t help it. Her purpose was to keep Amelia sane and whatever was on her mind was also on Griffin’s. She had to know for the simple fact that if he did indeed have a fatherly affection toward Amelia then maybe… just maybe… her existence was pointless.

angelofthenight 12-23-2008 06:16 AM

Calvin Booth

In trying to maintain his composure outwardly as Griffen inquired after how he felt about beeing the only one that had survived being imprisoned in Iraq in the undergroung cell of the enemy's camp, inwardly hef etl himself slipping into a contemplatitive state. Honestly he'd asked himself that same question many times and he already knew the answer. He'd attended all eight funerals, gazed into faces of men he'd gotten to know in the mids of pain and heart ache.. comforted the lvoed ones that he didn't have. The answer was yes. Yes he did feel guilty for having survived. When he woke up in the hospital the only peole stanidn near hsi bed were his friend and his wife. When he'd gone to the funerals of the eight other men that had been in his unit but ahd not survived the underground cell. There had been crowds of peole weeping and mourning over the loss of their fathers, sons, friends, brothers, husbands, and cousins. Calvin had never flet worse then he had, standing off to the side as each family memeber move foward and tossed a red rose onto the caskets... as people had cried and wept and all he'd been able to do was stand there.. and ask God why.. why had he been permitted to survive. when allt eh other men had left such loving families behind.. and he'd had nothing.. no one that would miss him.. no one that woudl coem to his funeral or give him a second thought.

He'd lost hif amily years ago. His older brother had been murdered in an alley while theyd' been playing baseball when Calvin had been twelve years old. It wasn't anyone's fault.. it had simply been a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.. and the paramedics had arrived to late to save him. Then, only two years after David had been killed his mother had killed herself, put a pistol in her mouth and pulled hte trigger. Calvin had wlaked into her study that adjoined her room where she liekd ot paint and had found her, lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood. When he'd turen dhe'd seen his father standing there in the doorway, gazing at the body of his wife in way that scared Calvin who had only been fourteen. Still two years after that after his father had become an alchohalic and had been abusing Calvin whenever they happened to cross paths Calvin's father left and Cavlin hadn't seen him since. For the last two years of Calvin's high school career he'd mvoed in wtih Jared and his family and shortly after that he'd joined up with army.. all he'd wante dot do at that point was get away.. away from New York and away from the memories.

Perhaps that was why he wanted to help Amelia.. toerh then the very strong fatherly affection he felt for the girl he understood her pain.. the pain of losing all thos eyou held dear and having no one to explain your pain to.. b ecause you kenw no one else woudl understand because they hadn't expereinced what you had. So he tried to get under Griffen's skin.. telling the creature that he pitied her... that he considered her to be a coward becuase she spent her time hiding behind Amelia. He coudl tell wtih some satisfaction that his method was working.. atleast to some extent. “My existence is not pointless. Nor do I need your pity, Booth.” She told him obviously tryign to relax and to humor her he aised an eeybrow at her showign that he wanted her to continue. “You never answered my question, you know? What reason do you have for helping Amelia?” She narrowed her eyes slightly and he knew that ther ewas no way he coudl get out of answering that quesiton without givnig her some insight to his personal life. “You only just met her yesterday and you still want to help her, even if it means putting your job at risk. There must be a reason other than wanting to protect innocents, otherwise you would have just had her arrested.” she pointe dout and he nodded, she ahd to admit that she was righ... he woudl've just arrested her if he didn't felt such a strong fatherly bond with her.

“What do you feel toward Amelia?” she asked and he kenw that showing no emotion at all woudl not do him any good.. he needed to make sure she udnerstood that he was being sincere.. so wtih a firm resolve he leaned forward and gazed at her intently with his eyes that seeme dot shimer in the darkness as the light of the lantern caught it just right. "There are three main reasons that I feel compelled ot help Amelia.. first" he held up one finger. "When I was fourteen years old I walked in on my mother.. she'd shot ehrself with the gun that my father had kept around for the protection of our family.. then when I was sixteen my father left.. to this day I don't know weather he's alive or dead." he paused to elt that sink in before he continued. "my second reason.." he began, holding up two fingers. "When I left the army I hoped to some degree that I could atone for the lives that i'd taken as a sniper by helpign peopple through my work as a police officer... and third..." he held up three fingers. "I foudn otu a couple months ago that I have a son of my own... he's four.. and I would like to think.. that if Parker was left an orphan and in the state that Amelia is in.. that someone would help her too.." he said, sincerity written all over his features as he leaned back slowly in hsi chair, letting a silence fill the room. "Is that the kind fo answer you were looking for?" he asked seriously, wanitng to know if that had bene the answer she'd been expecting.


02:40 PM

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