From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 08:38:12 EST
Jola woke up with a headache. Disoriented, she set up and instinctively stretched, as is normal upon awakening. She grunted as her head hit the wall, and her arms and legs found walls as well. "What the?"
She opened her eyes to darkness, a stripe of light shining from under the door, gradually allowing her some sight. Just as she started realizing where she was, a wave of nausea hit and she curled up with a dry heave. She groaned as the wave passed, and she shivered.
"think...think..." but try as she might, she couldn't remember how she got to be in a closet, of all places. She recalled talking to Percy, having to explain to him the days travails...then she woke up in here. She stood up, using the door and walls for balance, and tried the doorknob, fully expecting that she'd ended up in here through stupidity.
It was locked.
She stood up more fully and whacked her head on the clothes rack. Cursing, she yanked on the door knob with one hand while rubbing her head with the other. "Percy! Let me the hell out of here!" When that didn't work, she unsteadily put a foot against the door near the knob, and shoved, but there wasn't enough room to get really good leverage and it didn't work. By some stroke of idiocy, she grabbed onto the clothes bar and attempted to use both feet
on the door. That only worked in the movies, of course. The clothes bar broke.
"OW!!" she yelped as she fell to the floor, splintered pieces of wood in her hand and falling on her. "PERCY!!!!!!!!!" she shouted. Surely he had to be there somewhere, he had to hear her.
But nothing.
Resigned, temporarily at least, to being in the closet (which she noted to herself with no small irony that being "in the closet" was one thing she never was in other respects) she made herself relatively comfortable. That is, until the nausea came again. She knew what that was, she needed her meds. She also knew they weren't with her, she remembered Percy taking them from her, damn him.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and groaned softly, just one of the methamphetamines is all she'd need to feel better. It's really not that big a deal, just something to keep her going. Damn Percy for taking them from her. At least Wil had the right idea, it was her choice, not anyone elses.
Wil...where was he? That thought brought a flood of unpleasant thoughts about yesterday.
((TBC))
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From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 08:48:52 EST
Yesterday morning, early, she woke next to Wil. The night had been spectacular, they hadn't slept much at all. In the morning, she simply wanted to buy some roses for him, so she got up before he awoke, dressed, and slipped downstairs to the Hotel's gift shop.
She nodded to the man she recognized, having known him in passing and by reputation for years. He struck up a conversation with her, and before she knew what was happening, he had teleported them to his home.
She decided not to let him know how disoriented she was, and simply played along. After all, she *had* expressed an interest in his games. She wasn't quite sure what they entailed. If she had but known...
Why she laid down on the table in the first place, when he commanded, was still beyond her. Once there, the restraints kept her there, and the choice was no longer hers. And that's where things become the most confusing to Jola, and the most nauseating.
She's been beaten before, her father and first husband tended to do that fairly regularly. She'd been through a lot, so this torture wasn't too terrible. In fact, in many ways, it was mild. There was a difference though. In the end, before she was to die, she had a choice. She made a selfish choice, and now regretted it with all her being.
She kept playing it over in her mind. She was going to die, that was a certainty. She'd thought that all the game players survived the games, but she knew she could easily be mistaken. She'd only seen or heard from the live ones. And, she knew from the pain in her joints from the rack, that his implements were quite real. So of course, the guillotine was real too.
Her choice: To die satisfied or unsatisfied. Either way, she would die. But how, would be her choice. The only one she had left. Damn it all, she chose to die satisfied.
((TBC))
Date: 06 Dec 1998 08:48:52 EST
Yesterday morning, early, she woke next to Wil. The night had been spectacular, they hadn't slept much at all. In the morning, she simply wanted to buy some roses for him, so she got up before he awoke, dressed, and slipped downstairs to the Hotel's gift shop.
She nodded to the man she recognized, having known him in passing and by reputation for years. He struck up a conversation with her, and before she knew what was happening, he had teleported them to his home.
She decided not to let him know how disoriented she was, and simply played along. After all, she *had* expressed an interest in his games. She wasn't quite sure what they entailed. If she had but known...
Why she laid down on the table in the first place, when he commanded, was still beyond her. Once there, the restraints kept her there, and the choice was no longer hers. And that's where things become the most confusing to Jola, and the most nauseating.
She's been beaten before, her father and first husband tended to do that fairly regularly. She'd been through a lot, so this torture wasn't too terrible. In fact, in many ways, it was mild. There was a difference though. In the end, before she was to die, she had a choice. She made a selfish choice, and now regretted it with all her being.
She kept playing it over in her mind. She was going to die, that was a certainty. She'd thought that all the game players survived the games, but she knew she could easily be mistaken. She'd only seen or heard from the live ones. And, she knew from the pain in her joints from the rack, that his implements were quite real. So of course, the guillotine was real too.
Her choice: To die satisfied or unsatisfied. Either way, she would die. But how, would be her choice. The only one she had left. Damn it all, she chose to die satisfied.
((TBC))
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From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 08:56:30 EST
Another wave of nausea hit, stronger this time, as she replayed the events in her mind. Whether from revulsion or the withdrawal, she couldn't tell, and it didn't matter anyway.
She and Wil were going to be married. She had just left his bed that morning. She had gone to get roses for him...and now here was the end. She cheated on him, in the end. Her last thoughts wouldn't have been about him, she said her goodbyes in her head. Her last thoughts would have been fogged by pleasure.
She was disgusted by herself.
And after she survived, she kept playing the game. She even laughed. Shock? Maybe. Or maybe she liked it. Maybe she really was like her father, her first husband. Amoral and evil. That was her greatest fear, that she would lose control of herself, that she would become like them. Maybe she had.
At least he allowed her to choose a dress from his "collection" to wear when he returned her to the hotel. Hers had been cut off.
Once at the hotel, one look at Wil, still sleeping...had so little time passed? And so much happened? ... and she couldn't stand herself. She left a quick note for him, and rushed downstairs. She purchased a sweatshirt and sweatpants, socks and tennis shoes, and headed immediately to the arena.
Jola went into the locker room and stripped. She stuffed the dress and the boots into the trash deep, so no one would find them. She showered and scrubbed herself nearly raw. It didn't help, she still felt dirty.
After the shower, she dressed in the sweatshirt and sweatpants. So unlike her it was, and she didn't even think of it. Perhaps it was the unconcious need to downplay her sexuality, whereas normally she relished in it. Whatever the case, she needed to be around people, around someone, so she headed to the arena.
((TBC))
Date: 06 Dec 1998 08:56:30 EST
Another wave of nausea hit, stronger this time, as she replayed the events in her mind. Whether from revulsion or the withdrawal, she couldn't tell, and it didn't matter anyway.
She and Wil were going to be married. She had just left his bed that morning. She had gone to get roses for him...and now here was the end. She cheated on him, in the end. Her last thoughts wouldn't have been about him, she said her goodbyes in her head. Her last thoughts would have been fogged by pleasure.
She was disgusted by herself.
And after she survived, she kept playing the game. She even laughed. Shock? Maybe. Or maybe she liked it. Maybe she really was like her father, her first husband. Amoral and evil. That was her greatest fear, that she would lose control of herself, that she would become like them. Maybe she had.
At least he allowed her to choose a dress from his "collection" to wear when he returned her to the hotel. Hers had been cut off.
Once at the hotel, one look at Wil, still sleeping...had so little time passed? And so much happened? ... and she couldn't stand herself. She left a quick note for him, and rushed downstairs. She purchased a sweatshirt and sweatpants, socks and tennis shoes, and headed immediately to the arena.
Jola went into the locker room and stripped. She stuffed the dress and the boots into the trash deep, so no one would find them. She showered and scrubbed herself nearly raw. It didn't help, she still felt dirty.
After the shower, she dressed in the sweatshirt and sweatpants. So unlike her it was, and she didn't even think of it. Perhaps it was the unconcious need to downplay her sexuality, whereas normally she relished in it. Whatever the case, she needed to be around people, around someone, so she headed to the arena.
((TBC))
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From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 09:14:08 EST
She can't even remember now really who was there, except for Nick. She was numb, and in pain. Her shoulders and hips hurt, her knees and elbows, wrists and ankles. Though that particular game had been stopped before anything dislocated, she still felt the pain from the stretching.
Wil got the note, and came to the arena. All she wanted to do was be held, she needed to be close to him, even as she knew that when he found out, he would hate her as she hated herself.
She wanted to tell him, and yet didn't. He could tell something was wrong, but she tried to pass it off as the recent deaths in the arena. He didn't buy it. He caught on when he saw her wrists. Only slightly more than an hour old, the marks from too-tight shackles were plain.
She couldn't explain, she couldn't tell him what happened. And because of yet another failure on her part, he left. He left in fury, not at her, but at whoever he thought did this to her. She knows it's not who he suspects it to be. And he didn't even know what had happened, he was only guessing.
Amazed as Wil teleported out, Jola kicked over the nearest chairs in rage and screamed out "You'd think *he* was the one who was raped!" Why she said this, she didn't know, because she didn't feel raped. She felt responsible, she did it to herself, it was her fault. But still, the words came out, and she ran out.
Nick chased after her.
((TBC))
Date: 06 Dec 1998 09:14:08 EST
She can't even remember now really who was there, except for Nick. She was numb, and in pain. Her shoulders and hips hurt, her knees and elbows, wrists and ankles. Though that particular game had been stopped before anything dislocated, she still felt the pain from the stretching.
Wil got the note, and came to the arena. All she wanted to do was be held, she needed to be close to him, even as she knew that when he found out, he would hate her as she hated herself.
She wanted to tell him, and yet didn't. He could tell something was wrong, but she tried to pass it off as the recent deaths in the arena. He didn't buy it. He caught on when he saw her wrists. Only slightly more than an hour old, the marks from too-tight shackles were plain.
She couldn't explain, she couldn't tell him what happened. And because of yet another failure on her part, he left. He left in fury, not at her, but at whoever he thought did this to her. She knows it's not who he suspects it to be. And he didn't even know what had happened, he was only guessing.
Amazed as Wil teleported out, Jola kicked over the nearest chairs in rage and screamed out "You'd think *he* was the one who was raped!" Why she said this, she didn't know, because she didn't feel raped. She felt responsible, she did it to herself, it was her fault. But still, the words came out, and she ran out.
Nick chased after her.
((TBC))
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From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 09:25:05 EST
It was the scent of burning flesh that convinced her to go back inside with Nick. If he had the guts, or stupidity, to come out after her in the afternoon sun, the least she could do is keep him from killing himself.
Once inside, they got no farther than the hallway before sliding to sit with their backs against opposite walls. Ah, Nick. Nice kid, he really was. And their talk seemed to help. She swore him to secrecy though, she couldn't stand the thought of Wil exacting revenge against someone for something that she viewed as her fault.
The rest of the night was a blur. Jola wandered a bit, not wanting to go to the Fici manor, not wanting to really talk to anyone, yet not wanting to be alone. She went to the doctor she knew of, who gave her the pills. She'd been taking the meths for awhile now, but she needed something for calming. The hydrocodone was just the thing. Not entirely legal for her to gain the "prescription" but then, that's why she went to this doctor in the first
place.
-----
More nausea. This is where she is now, in a closet, somewhere, that Percy put her into. He'd commanded her, somehow, to tell him what happened. Damn the man, he even got the name out of her. He'd tell Wil now, if Wil ever returned.
Not that she expected it. She'd been unfaithful, somehow. They'd just become engaged, and she'd been unfaithful. She hadn't meant to. She hated herself for it. She was disgusted by herself. There was no reason she could think of for Wil to come back and forgive her. And certainly, he would never forget. She knew she wouldn't.
Jola started shaking from chills, and the pain in her stomach grew worse along with the nausea. Her head pounded. She was getting anguished.
"PERCY!!!"
((TBC))
Date: 06 Dec 1998 09:25:05 EST
It was the scent of burning flesh that convinced her to go back inside with Nick. If he had the guts, or stupidity, to come out after her in the afternoon sun, the least she could do is keep him from killing himself.
Once inside, they got no farther than the hallway before sliding to sit with their backs against opposite walls. Ah, Nick. Nice kid, he really was. And their talk seemed to help. She swore him to secrecy though, she couldn't stand the thought of Wil exacting revenge against someone for something that she viewed as her fault.
The rest of the night was a blur. Jola wandered a bit, not wanting to go to the Fici manor, not wanting to really talk to anyone, yet not wanting to be alone. She went to the doctor she knew of, who gave her the pills. She'd been taking the meths for awhile now, but she needed something for calming. The hydrocodone was just the thing. Not entirely legal for her to gain the "prescription" but then, that's why she went to this doctor in the first
place.
-----
More nausea. This is where she is now, in a closet, somewhere, that Percy put her into. He'd commanded her, somehow, to tell him what happened. Damn the man, he even got the name out of her. He'd tell Wil now, if Wil ever returned.
Not that she expected it. She'd been unfaithful, somehow. They'd just become engaged, and she'd been unfaithful. She hadn't meant to. She hated herself for it. She was disgusted by herself. There was no reason she could think of for Wil to come back and forgive her. And certainly, he would never forget. She knew she wouldn't.
Jola started shaking from chills, and the pain in her stomach grew worse along with the nausea. Her head pounded. She was getting anguished.
"PERCY!!!"
((TBC))
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From: leducblanc@aol.com (LeDucBlanc)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 14:52:19 EST
Percy listened dispassionately to Jola's cries as he came to deliver her breakfast that morning. He knew she was in real pain, and his heart was truly sore for her. But he had to harden it. At once. The harder the better. Her addicted system was torturing her right now. She would give into that system if given a chance. He could not allow that. He had seen the horrors of addiction in his many military careers.
The horror of alcoholism in the Napoleonic Wars. Men literally so drunkenly insensible that they had to be left to the enemy rather than taken along on hard retreats. Men with yellow eyes and horrified expressions, dying screaming of alcohol poisoning.
Cocaine addiction during the Seven Years' War, rampant in the French and Austrian armies alike. Men bleeding from the nose with the damage done their membranes by the drug. Men dead in the morning from an overdose in the night. In the days before adrenaline and cardiac needles, they had no chance at all. No wonder the Prussians had won. Their enemies had been too debauched to gain the victory.
Korea had been the worst. Morphine addictions in hospitals. Men screaming for a drug they had been given to help them, that they now needed more than food or water. Dying of accidental overdoses as they needed more and more of the drug. Or going home addicts because they were never able to break the habit.
Now it was a friend of his, yet again. He knew what to do. He had done it before. He would be ruthless, cruel, unyielding. But she would live. When it was all over, she would be grateful. But even if she was not, she would live. That was the important thing.
She would live.
Date: 06 Dec 1998 14:52:19 EST
Percy listened dispassionately to Jola's cries as he came to deliver her breakfast that morning. He knew she was in real pain, and his heart was truly sore for her. But he had to harden it. At once. The harder the better. Her addicted system was torturing her right now. She would give into that system if given a chance. He could not allow that. He had seen the horrors of addiction in his many military careers.
The horror of alcoholism in the Napoleonic Wars. Men literally so drunkenly insensible that they had to be left to the enemy rather than taken along on hard retreats. Men with yellow eyes and horrified expressions, dying screaming of alcohol poisoning.
Cocaine addiction during the Seven Years' War, rampant in the French and Austrian armies alike. Men bleeding from the nose with the damage done their membranes by the drug. Men dead in the morning from an overdose in the night. In the days before adrenaline and cardiac needles, they had no chance at all. No wonder the Prussians had won. Their enemies had been too debauched to gain the victory.
Korea had been the worst. Morphine addictions in hospitals. Men screaming for a drug they had been given to help them, that they now needed more than food or water. Dying of accidental overdoses as they needed more and more of the drug. Or going home addicts because they were never able to break the habit.
Now it was a friend of his, yet again. He knew what to do. He had done it before. He would be ruthless, cruel, unyielding. But she would live. When it was all over, she would be grateful. But even if she was not, she would live. That was the important thing.
She would live.
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From: leducblanc@aol.com (LeDucBlanc)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 17:51:50 EST
Percy left the Academy slowly, locking the door firmly behind him fromthe outside. He then walked around the building again, locking the side doors as well, and the back door. He barred the side and backdoors, just in case. He liked Jola, but he knew better than to trust an addict. He wasn't going to let her get away and find another bottle of pills. He was going to make sure she lived.
He thought it was somewhat foolish of Wil Savage to run off in every direction when his fiance needed him. He hoped the man came to his senses when he got back. For Wil's sake as much as Jola. They could both use some happiness.
He tested the doors, making sure they couldn't be opened. He knew they would be nearly impossible to force. Especially for a still sore woman in withdrawal from both hydrocodone and meth. She wouldn't get away. That made him feel a lot better. He needed her to be safe. He needed his friends to be safe.
He walked back, slowly, towards the Inn. He would have to make sure she ate and drank properly. As withdrawal got worse, he might have to force feed her. That would not be fun at all. It might have to be done however, and he would do it. He wouldn't enjoy it, but he would do whatever needed to be done to save her life.
He wished he could get ahold of a methadone protocol and bring her down slowly. That would be easier on her, better for her system. But cold turkey was more likely to be permanent. More likely to save her life. That was the important thing.
Duc Percival Marchand de Clermont had lost four wives, three children, and countless friends to death. He had lost a wife to opium, a son to cocaine, and many friends to alcoholism. He was not going to lose a friend to painkillers and stims now. That was for damned sure.
TBC
Date: 06 Dec 1998 17:51:50 EST
Percy left the Academy slowly, locking the door firmly behind him fromthe outside. He then walked around the building again, locking the side doors as well, and the back door. He barred the side and backdoors, just in case. He liked Jola, but he knew better than to trust an addict. He wasn't going to let her get away and find another bottle of pills. He was going to make sure she lived.
He thought it was somewhat foolish of Wil Savage to run off in every direction when his fiance needed him. He hoped the man came to his senses when he got back. For Wil's sake as much as Jola. They could both use some happiness.
He tested the doors, making sure they couldn't be opened. He knew they would be nearly impossible to force. Especially for a still sore woman in withdrawal from both hydrocodone and meth. She wouldn't get away. That made him feel a lot better. He needed her to be safe. He needed his friends to be safe.
He walked back, slowly, towards the Inn. He would have to make sure she ate and drank properly. As withdrawal got worse, he might have to force feed her. That would not be fun at all. It might have to be done however, and he would do it. He wouldn't enjoy it, but he would do whatever needed to be done to save her life.
He wished he could get ahold of a methadone protocol and bring her down slowly. That would be easier on her, better for her system. But cold turkey was more likely to be permanent. More likely to save her life. That was the important thing.
Duc Percival Marchand de Clermont had lost four wives, three children, and countless friends to death. He had lost a wife to opium, a son to cocaine, and many friends to alcoholism. He was not going to lose a friend to painkillers and stims now. That was for damned sure.
TBC
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From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 06 Dec 1998 19:36:54 EST
Jola really felt her height now. Folded over in the closet, a silly, random thought that went through her head was that she wished Percy had been a woman, then he might have had a walk-in closet. At least she would have had more room.
With a dulled mind, she tried to gather her electrical magic to do something, anything, to get her out. Even if she could just set the door on fire somehow, that would work. But, to her dismay, she found that there was something preventing the magic from coalescing within her. Most likely one of Percy's damn defenses.
The door opened, she hadn't even heard the lock unlocked. She blinked against the light, frowning, and there was Percy, setting a tray of some disgusting looking stuff he called food, onto her lap. Stay still, Jola. Be good, Jola. Damnit, she felt like a child.
"Percy, please..." she whispered. "Please what?" came his irritating reply. He knew what she needed to stop the pain. And the bastard wasn't going to give it to her.
At least she got to go to the bathroom. He helped her stretch out her joints some, they hadn't yet recovered from the rack. And then, oh, and then, he lectured her.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, she knew all that. She could recite the reasons against drugs with the best of 'em. That didn't mean anything at all from this side of things. She had all the reason she needed, it made her feel better.
When he left, he didn't lock her in the closet again. He locked her in the whole freakin' building. Of course, she checked the exits. She considered breaking windows, but they were strong, and she wasn't right now. Without the drugs in her system...she hadn't quite hit bottom yet and she knew it. She was close, and getting desperate. She searched his office, he said he'd gotten rid of the pills, but she couldn't be sure. Hell, does Percy not even
drink? She couldn't even find any alcohol to ease the pain.
Screaming to no one, "I HATE YOU, PERCIVAL!"
Hot shower. Wrapped in a towel, she sat in the locker room of the Clermont Academy and thought. As she felt her body scream into the worst of withdrawals, she thought. Wil...she doubted he'd come back. Even if he did, she was sure it was over between them. So close to marriage, within hours maybe, and she'd flushed it all by not thinking straight. He wasn't the type to...ah well.
Friends, she had. Plenty, thankfully. Someone to love? Maybe it really wasn't meant to be for her, ever.
She locked down her heart, then, with the intention of never opening it again. Ever.
She welcomed the agony her body dealt her. It served her right.
((TBC))
Date: 06 Dec 1998 19:36:54 EST
Jola really felt her height now. Folded over in the closet, a silly, random thought that went through her head was that she wished Percy had been a woman, then he might have had a walk-in closet. At least she would have had more room.
With a dulled mind, she tried to gather her electrical magic to do something, anything, to get her out. Even if she could just set the door on fire somehow, that would work. But, to her dismay, she found that there was something preventing the magic from coalescing within her. Most likely one of Percy's damn defenses.
The door opened, she hadn't even heard the lock unlocked. She blinked against the light, frowning, and there was Percy, setting a tray of some disgusting looking stuff he called food, onto her lap. Stay still, Jola. Be good, Jola. Damnit, she felt like a child.
"Percy, please..." she whispered. "Please what?" came his irritating reply. He knew what she needed to stop the pain. And the bastard wasn't going to give it to her.
At least she got to go to the bathroom. He helped her stretch out her joints some, they hadn't yet recovered from the rack. And then, oh, and then, he lectured her.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, she knew all that. She could recite the reasons against drugs with the best of 'em. That didn't mean anything at all from this side of things. She had all the reason she needed, it made her feel better.
When he left, he didn't lock her in the closet again. He locked her in the whole freakin' building. Of course, she checked the exits. She considered breaking windows, but they were strong, and she wasn't right now. Without the drugs in her system...she hadn't quite hit bottom yet and she knew it. She was close, and getting desperate. She searched his office, he said he'd gotten rid of the pills, but she couldn't be sure. Hell, does Percy not even
drink? She couldn't even find any alcohol to ease the pain.
Screaming to no one, "I HATE YOU, PERCIVAL!"
Hot shower. Wrapped in a towel, she sat in the locker room of the Clermont Academy and thought. As she felt her body scream into the worst of withdrawals, she thought. Wil...she doubted he'd come back. Even if he did, she was sure it was over between them. So close to marriage, within hours maybe, and she'd flushed it all by not thinking straight. He wasn't the type to...ah well.
Friends, she had. Plenty, thankfully. Someone to love? Maybe it really wasn't meant to be for her, ever.
She locked down her heart, then, with the intention of never opening it again. Ever.
She welcomed the agony her body dealt her. It served her right.
((TBC))
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From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 07 Dec 1998 14:45:38 EST
Jola had thought she'd closed off her heart, but when Wil teleported in, she realized that she truly hoped he'd come back for her. To her. He hadn't. Far from it.
He'd come to let her know that it was over. No, he'd come to tell her it was over. He had done his own "investigation" and determined that she was unfaithful.
The pain couldn't have been worse had he literally gutted her and ripped out her heart.
The way the withdrawal was going, in addition to the loss of the man her soul belonged to...there just wasn't a light at the end of the tunnel.
And the walls closed in.
Date: 07 Dec 1998 14:45:38 EST
Jola had thought she'd closed off her heart, but when Wil teleported in, she realized that she truly hoped he'd come back for her. To her. He hadn't. Far from it.
He'd come to let her know that it was over. No, he'd come to tell her it was over. He had done his own "investigation" and determined that she was unfaithful.
The pain couldn't have been worse had he literally gutted her and ripped out her heart.
The way the withdrawal was going, in addition to the loss of the man her soul belonged to...there just wasn't a light at the end of the tunnel.
And the walls closed in.
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From: leducblanc@aol.com (LeDucBlanc)
Date: 07 Dec 1998 23:10:38 EST
Percy listened to Jola scream at him as he locked the door after yet another delivery of food to her. She wasn't eating. She would regret it when the 2nd stage began. But she wouldn't believe that now. He was afraid she wouldn't find out except the hard way. He hated to see her suffer like this. She was his friend. But it was the best thing for her. This way she would be a live friend. Not a dead one.
Percy had too many dead friends.
He thought about Jacques Clervier, who he had served with in the Seven Years War. He had been a good man, a skilled officer, a tough soldier. He had also been a cocaine addict. He remembered what he had told Jacques when he learned of it.
"Jacques, how can you be so foolish!?" He had demanded.
"Don't worry, Jean," Jacques had replied with a smile, using the assumed name Percy had taken, "I know what I am doing. I am being very careful. It is harmless if you know what you are doing. Moderation is the key."
Percy had frowned, thought, and had shaken his head. "Alright, Jacques. I trust you, and I have faith in you. I don't like it, but do what you think best. I just want you to know that if I see one of your nostrils bleeding, I will bloody the other one."
Jacques had laughed at that. "That is what I would expect from a friend. But I can take you, Jean."
It had all been a joke. Percy had not known all there was to know about cocaine then. After much time travel and much studying, he did now. He remembered the morning he found Jacques. Dead of course. He had overdosed, and had died before he even knew he had made a mistake.
Percy did not want Jola to end up like that. He valued her far too much. He would have to make sure she was safe, and clean.
Whether she liked it or not.
TBC
Date: 07 Dec 1998 23:10:38 EST
Percy listened to Jola scream at him as he locked the door after yet another delivery of food to her. She wasn't eating. She would regret it when the 2nd stage began. But she wouldn't believe that now. He was afraid she wouldn't find out except the hard way. He hated to see her suffer like this. She was his friend. But it was the best thing for her. This way she would be a live friend. Not a dead one.
Percy had too many dead friends.
He thought about Jacques Clervier, who he had served with in the Seven Years War. He had been a good man, a skilled officer, a tough soldier. He had also been a cocaine addict. He remembered what he had told Jacques when he learned of it.
"Jacques, how can you be so foolish!?" He had demanded.
"Don't worry, Jean," Jacques had replied with a smile, using the assumed name Percy had taken, "I know what I am doing. I am being very careful. It is harmless if you know what you are doing. Moderation is the key."
Percy had frowned, thought, and had shaken his head. "Alright, Jacques. I trust you, and I have faith in you. I don't like it, but do what you think best. I just want you to know that if I see one of your nostrils bleeding, I will bloody the other one."
Jacques had laughed at that. "That is what I would expect from a friend. But I can take you, Jean."
It had all been a joke. Percy had not known all there was to know about cocaine then. After much time travel and much studying, he did now. He remembered the morning he found Jacques. Dead of course. He had overdosed, and had died before he even knew he had made a mistake.
Percy did not want Jola to end up like that. He valued her far too much. He would have to make sure she was safe, and clean.
Whether she liked it or not.
TBC
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From: wilsavage@aol.com (Wil Savage)
Date: 08 Dec 1998 15:15:24 EST
The lights we dimmed aboard the StarWolf, Wil's interstellar cruiser. He laid back lazily in a chair, his right elbow on the armrest and his right hand in the air holding a cigarette between his fingers. He leaned his head against the thumb and forefinger of that same hand as the ash accumulated on the tip of the cigarette. His own eyes drooped as he sat and watched Jola sleep peacefully after the medical procedure
he had given her removed toxins and withdrawal symptoms.
These last two days had been hell for him. He had gone to the arena to post the announcement of his and Jola's engagement and saw her sitting there. His joy over seeing her was quickly replaced by concern over her behavior. Something was definitely wrong.
He noticed the restraint marks on her wrists. It was as he feared. S.E.C.T.O.R. agents must have already discovered their relationship and threatened her. He would make them pay for this. Jola was obviously doing well enough and wouldn't have been hanging out in the arena if she needed him, so, he left to seek revenge.
Savage had barely departed hyperspace when he realized that the puzzle just didn't fit together. S.E.C.T.O.R. would have killed her and sent only her head back - the traditional method they used to convey a message. Often there would be a note placed within the mouth of the head. S.E.C.T.O.R. didn't waste time with mild forms of torture.
He turned the ship around and began an investigation which took him to every place Jola was known to hang out. DNA "sniffing" produced the dress and boots she had placed in the garbage of the DoS locker room. Further study done in his hotel room found another woman's DNA and a man's DNA on the dress. I.I.S.C. computers on the StarWolf and interviews with hotel personnel gave him the information he wanted.
He knew who did this to her and the information on the man was extensive - enough to give Wil a good idea of what was done. Certain sources let him know that Jola did not have to be forced.
He had been crushed. It was as though his very heart was ripped from him. He went to the Academy to infor her that it was over - his anger allowing him to dismiss the pitiful condition she was in. He left intending never to see her again.
Who was he fooling? Thoughts of Jola consumed him as surely and as quickly as if some beast's massive jaws tore mercilessly at his bowels from the inside. Sure she wasn't a saint. Hell, he knew that. He didn't want a saint. He loved her because she was tough, unpredictable, sexy; and her weaknesses made her human, desirable, someone he could reveal his own weaknesses to and feel no less perfect in her eyes. He knew that living with her would be
the death of him some day, yet without her, there was no living at all. She brought life to him. She made him feel alive. More importantly, she made him want to live.
Savage transported directly into the Clermont Academy office in which Jola was located. He was in his black and dark gray uniform, dark glasses covered his eyes. His head turned slowly and he saw Jola curled up into a fetal position in a large chair. Pain went though his body to see her in such a state. He removed his glasses and walked to her.
"Jola..." he whispered, "It's me....Wil."
She responded but thought that he wasn't real. How bedraggled she looked. He touched her face and whispered, "I've come to take you back with me, Jola. You're coming home." He greatly appreciated all his friend Percy had been doing for Jola, but Rhydin medicine was no further advanced than 20th century Earth medicine - primitive to say the least. "No wonder they use so much magic on this planet," he though to himself.
"I'm real, Jola. I'll show you." He kissed her upon her lips and then picked her up onto his arms. He was surprised how light she felt as she laid limply within his hold. "It's time to get you well," he whispered, and signaled the ship to transport them. She protested, saying she promised Percy she would stay. He assured her that Percy would understand, and that her health was both his and Percy's prime concern.
Once on the StarWolf he placed her in the medical bay and began the Toxicathartic procedures. It was a thirty-minute procedure, and he used that time to give her a quick sponge bath and place a tissue repairing ointment on her wrists.
She was now in bed, resting. Savage put out the cigarette and leaned forward and laid his head on her bed, and quickly fell asleep.
Date: 08 Dec 1998 15:15:24 EST
The lights we dimmed aboard the StarWolf, Wil's interstellar cruiser. He laid back lazily in a chair, his right elbow on the armrest and his right hand in the air holding a cigarette between his fingers. He leaned his head against the thumb and forefinger of that same hand as the ash accumulated on the tip of the cigarette. His own eyes drooped as he sat and watched Jola sleep peacefully after the medical procedure
he had given her removed toxins and withdrawal symptoms.
These last two days had been hell for him. He had gone to the arena to post the announcement of his and Jola's engagement and saw her sitting there. His joy over seeing her was quickly replaced by concern over her behavior. Something was definitely wrong.
He noticed the restraint marks on her wrists. It was as he feared. S.E.C.T.O.R. agents must have already discovered their relationship and threatened her. He would make them pay for this. Jola was obviously doing well enough and wouldn't have been hanging out in the arena if she needed him, so, he left to seek revenge.
Savage had barely departed hyperspace when he realized that the puzzle just didn't fit together. S.E.C.T.O.R. would have killed her and sent only her head back - the traditional method they used to convey a message. Often there would be a note placed within the mouth of the head. S.E.C.T.O.R. didn't waste time with mild forms of torture.
He turned the ship around and began an investigation which took him to every place Jola was known to hang out. DNA "sniffing" produced the dress and boots she had placed in the garbage of the DoS locker room. Further study done in his hotel room found another woman's DNA and a man's DNA on the dress. I.I.S.C. computers on the StarWolf and interviews with hotel personnel gave him the information he wanted.
He knew who did this to her and the information on the man was extensive - enough to give Wil a good idea of what was done. Certain sources let him know that Jola did not have to be forced.
He had been crushed. It was as though his very heart was ripped from him. He went to the Academy to infor her that it was over - his anger allowing him to dismiss the pitiful condition she was in. He left intending never to see her again.
Who was he fooling? Thoughts of Jola consumed him as surely and as quickly as if some beast's massive jaws tore mercilessly at his bowels from the inside. Sure she wasn't a saint. Hell, he knew that. He didn't want a saint. He loved her because she was tough, unpredictable, sexy; and her weaknesses made her human, desirable, someone he could reveal his own weaknesses to and feel no less perfect in her eyes. He knew that living with her would be
the death of him some day, yet without her, there was no living at all. She brought life to him. She made him feel alive. More importantly, she made him want to live.
Savage transported directly into the Clermont Academy office in which Jola was located. He was in his black and dark gray uniform, dark glasses covered his eyes. His head turned slowly and he saw Jola curled up into a fetal position in a large chair. Pain went though his body to see her in such a state. He removed his glasses and walked to her.
"Jola..." he whispered, "It's me....Wil."
She responded but thought that he wasn't real. How bedraggled she looked. He touched her face and whispered, "I've come to take you back with me, Jola. You're coming home." He greatly appreciated all his friend Percy had been doing for Jola, but Rhydin medicine was no further advanced than 20th century Earth medicine - primitive to say the least. "No wonder they use so much magic on this planet," he though to himself.
"I'm real, Jola. I'll show you." He kissed her upon her lips and then picked her up onto his arms. He was surprised how light she felt as she laid limply within his hold. "It's time to get you well," he whispered, and signaled the ship to transport them. She protested, saying she promised Percy she would stay. He assured her that Percy would understand, and that her health was both his and Percy's prime concern.
Once on the StarWolf he placed her in the medical bay and began the Toxicathartic procedures. It was a thirty-minute procedure, and he used that time to give her a quick sponge bath and place a tissue repairing ointment on her wrists.
She was now in bed, resting. Savage put out the cigarette and leaned forward and laid his head on her bed, and quickly fell asleep.
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From: jolafici@aol.com (Jola Fici)
Date: 08 Dec 1998 16:17:04 EST
Jola opened her eyes, yet again disoriented. Her sight was not yet normal, but she could see more and more. Still, with the lights in the cruiser dimmed as well, opening her eyes and looking around didn't help her get her bearings much at all.
The glance did reveal Wil sitting beside the bed she was on, with his head on the bed, sound asleep. She felt like her heart twisted inside her chest, seeing him, unsure of what his intentions were. Rather than waking him, she closed her eyes again and assessed herself closely.
No wonder she felt physically ...well, not so knotted up. Someone must have given her something to counter the withdrawal symptoms. She doubted it was Percy, he seemed to want to do it the hard way. Or rather, want her to do it the hard way. Probably it was Wil, who can't stand to see her suffer. At least he couldn't, before they broke up.
So, she's feeling better. Joy. She could barely lift her head from the bed from weakness, but at least she wasn't in pain. Physically, that is. Her thoughts drifted into a conversation with herself.
'What do I do now? Well, I could kill myself, which wouldn't be any good, because I'll be damned if I'm going out of this world without taking a few of my enemies with me. And since that's not likely at this point, I guess I'm gonna have to keep living. Living, oh yes. My kids barely know me anymore. At least they're happy and safe. Hmm. Dueling. What a ...nothing. Wil? Left. Hmm. Sex? Who cares. '
'Damn. They took away all the motivation I had. After I rest I'll find a way to get it back again. Surely he has something onboard this thing that will do the trick.'
Not once having spoken aloud, Jola allowed her mind to quiet, though the voices whispered to her and reiterated just how little she had to care for in the world. She shut them for now with more sleep.
Date: 08 Dec 1998 16:17:04 EST
Jola opened her eyes, yet again disoriented. Her sight was not yet normal, but she could see more and more. Still, with the lights in the cruiser dimmed as well, opening her eyes and looking around didn't help her get her bearings much at all.
The glance did reveal Wil sitting beside the bed she was on, with his head on the bed, sound asleep. She felt like her heart twisted inside her chest, seeing him, unsure of what his intentions were. Rather than waking him, she closed her eyes again and assessed herself closely.
No wonder she felt physically ...well, not so knotted up. Someone must have given her something to counter the withdrawal symptoms. She doubted it was Percy, he seemed to want to do it the hard way. Or rather, want her to do it the hard way. Probably it was Wil, who can't stand to see her suffer. At least he couldn't, before they broke up.
So, she's feeling better. Joy. She could barely lift her head from the bed from weakness, but at least she wasn't in pain. Physically, that is. Her thoughts drifted into a conversation with herself.
'What do I do now? Well, I could kill myself, which wouldn't be any good, because I'll be damned if I'm going out of this world without taking a few of my enemies with me. And since that's not likely at this point, I guess I'm gonna have to keep living. Living, oh yes. My kids barely know me anymore. At least they're happy and safe. Hmm. Dueling. What a ...nothing. Wil? Left. Hmm. Sex? Who cares. '
'Damn. They took away all the motivation I had. After I rest I'll find a way to get it back again. Surely he has something onboard this thing that will do the trick.'
Not once having spoken aloud, Jola allowed her mind to quiet, though the voices whispered to her and reiterated just how little she had to care for in the world. She shut them for now with more sleep.