Washed Ashore [Alek | Open]

Like so much driftwood, there was still evidence of the recent attack and battle upon the sandy shore.

Too much, too close to the previous battle five years ago. And like such events would, memories and feelings were dredged up from where they settled. The sun was setting, the water turning red as the sky did.

The blonde sighed, brushing her forearm against her forehead. She stopped and stared a moment, eyes drifting.

The blonde remembered.

She turned her gaze back to the sand and stooped to pick up another piece of garbage that had drifted with wind and water, stuffing it into one of the large bags she had. What was even more clear was the aftermath. The anger, the guilt, the heartbreak.

And then the loss of home. They'd all felt like driftwood for a while. But Concordia gave them all a place to call home. And now their home was threatened again.

Why?

And who and how and when and where?

There were so many questions but all she could do for the moment was clean the debris and the garbage; to reflect on the past and wonder about the uncertain future.

THEME

Alek coughed, a tickle in his throat forcing him to roll over. He coughed again, this time a little irritated. Then the sound pulled intohis ears, like his brain had flipped a switch while he slept in order to drown out sound. Hed been forced to acclimate to that, when he lived at school. His room mate made so much noise, day and night, and sound was just something you dealt with. Now, however, were sounds that should have awoken him long ago, making his used to noise a problem. This was the popping and crackling of fire, like he was at a campside warming his toes. His eyes shot open and he sat up into acrid smoke.

He coughed heavily, throwing himself off the bed and onto the floor. It was far clearer down there, but it wasn't what he thought of as he looked toward his door, where the smoke was pouring in from.

"DANI!?"

He pushed himself to his feet, rushing toward the doorway.

***FLASH***

"You just have to be gentle with him. Let your hips move with the motion of the horses back as you ride. He knows where to go, so 

you don't need to jerk hard on the tack or kick him. Gently pull on one side to have him turn, and shift your hips. He'll do the rest."

"O-okay. Can't you ride with me?"

Alek shook his head with a smile.

"No, Dani, you're almost twelve. It's time to learn solo. Look- I'm gonna ride Peach. Mario is a good horse and knows to keep up 

with the lead mare. Don't be scared, I'll be right there with you."

She was a little white, but nodded confidently.

He hopped on his horse, and they started off. After the first ten or twenty minutes or so she brightened up completely, her cheeks tinting and her giggling laugh starting up as she spurred the horse into a gallop. Alek would laugh with her, grinning as he too pushed Peach to keep up. God's, this child...he loved her. He knew in the next few years father would want to send her to an all girls school- he intended to talk him out of it. To let Jason teach her from home. Teach her to play Piano, Guitar, Violen. Math, History, Science. She listened well, and he didn't want her to go through the terrible schooling methods at the all girls schools. He 

would convince father. He had to.

***FLASH***

Alek was stumbling out on the main hallway, where the grand staircase led up to the back rooms where he and Dani liked to stay. The whole lower floor was aflame. He was shocked at it's size and power- usually fires took time, and the alarms scattered throughout the house should have gone off. Even if one failed...how could they all? Power outage, maybe?

He sprinted from there to his sisters hall, which was covered in fire. He gasped at the heat. Kicking open the bathroom next to him, he turned on the faucet and dunked a towel into the water before covering himself with the liquid as well and wrapping the large towel over his body. As he raced out into the hall, he looked down it, fear flying up his throat. Was she okay? Gods....please...let her be okay.

He tore off through the flames.

***FLASH***

"Thank you father. Yes, I understand- she will be a 

wonderful student. I will send you report cards once a term. Yes, thank 

you. Mmhmm byebye."

He turned to Dani, who stood wringing her hands. Two of her friends stood 

behind her as Alek crouched, taking a deep breath.

"It's gonna be hard."

"I know!"

"It won't be like riding horses. I'll be super mean like a teacher and make you work. I'll take away stuff if you don't get things done and you'll start to get really angry."

"No I won't! I will work really hard and I'll study and get good grades, I promise."

Alek gave a little smile.

"Well...okay...you promised, so I guess I'll teach your ugly face some things."

She laughed and jumped, clapping before running forward and wrapping her arms around him. He grinned, wrapping his arms around her and scooping her up into a hug. He loved her so much- his little sister. She was what made all this bearable. The orders from his father, the fights with Uldna's kids that came around drunk, threatening them...he didn't mind any of it so long as she was there. Though she was his sister, he loved her like a daughter, and was so happy she was comfortable and excited to be with him so much. That she looked up to him- her "goody-two-shoes- brother. He wondered if ever there was a Russian as lucky as he in the history of his country. The answer was easy.

Definitely not.

***FLASH***

Alek kicked open his sisters door, falling back as flames blasted him, evaporating what was left of the water. He rushed in after anyway, the lower half of the bed burnt. There....there was...no....god no....

"No no nononono DANI! DANI!? Oh my God Dani wake up! WAKE UP"

He crouched, grabbing her and shaking her. She wasn't burnt, her eyes were open, why wasn't she...she...his eyes moved to the blood, to the thin slit along her neck and her broken jaw. Her eyes were open...there was terror there. He held her, horrified. Twisted inside by the look frozen in death. No...no...what the fuck no...god....why...!?

"Dani....shh It's okay....your okay....G-god...."

The last word said in a sob, he felt the flames on his pants and shirt, bubbling his flesh. He screamed from the pain of it and the pain on her face and in his heart. He screamed at the top of his lungs, a strange pull in his stomach snuffing out the flames on him, in this room. He cried, holding her to him as the hallway collapsed. He lifted her body and ran out onto her balcony, jumping. He hit the ground in a crouch and suprisingly...was unhurt. Like an unholy strength was in his legs. He crouched out there, holding her body as his teary eyes blurred her face.

Who...who...why? Why would someone do this?

Gods....he would burn this world to the ground.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alek gasped, eyes opening as the pain in his chest intensified. There was a loud banging on his door. He cleared his throat, blinking away the sleep. He stood, opening his bedroom door and walking out to the living room. He opened it to find someone there, looking quite worried. 

"Sorry...we heard screaming. Everything okay?"

Alek nodded, stretching.

"All clear. I was screaming for fun. Bye."

They opened their mouth to talk but he shut it in their face. He would walk back into his room and look at the time before grabbing a shirt and pulling it on. He'd walk to the kitchen, grabbing sunglasses and a six pack before heading out the door and down the stairs, not showering from last nights escapades. He'd head off to the beach today for some relaxation. Get away from the....troubles of home. Once there, he'd pop a can and chug it, sticking it back in the box before grabbing another. He noticed a young blonde heading his way. He'd hold aloft the beer.

"Akh, utrom ledi! Kak yarmarki ochistki?"

He laughed at that.

Ah, sarcasm.

The blonde's gaze drew up to the male as he lifted the can, the metal catching the light just right. Kyrie closed her eyes a little. Not a language she'd heard enough to recognize it. But though it was harsher it wasn't German.

"I am sorry; I do not understand." She tilted her head, crouching to pick up another piece or two of trash. "By your tone there was a question...but I am not so certain of what."

Or if it was genuine? Something in his tone...

Well. It wouldn't stop her. So she continued stuffing pieces of trash into the bag, moving slowly towards him, still.

He chuckled before taking another drink.

"Why is it that every person on this God Forsaken planet speaks english. No wonder Putin wants to crush America- the place practically runs the planet."

He turned to her.

"You speak anything else? Español? Shqiptar? Bŭlgarski? Français? Mongol Ulsyn? Anything? Anything at all? Or is being trapped in English really all anyone ever strives to these days?"

He looked away and took another long drink, trying to drown out his dreams.

Something inside the blonde twitched slightly at the blatantly rude words, but she simply pushed another piece of trash into the bag and let him have his little tiff to himself. He was drinking and in a foul mood, apparently. Or if this was his natural state, then she didn't necessarily want to waste her time on him.

She straightened, glancing at him with a more critical eye as he spewed off other languages in query to her own skill; or, more aptly, what he assumed to be her lack thereof. "Je parle français, mais aussi latin, en peu, en plus de l'anglais. Je ne suis pas coincé à une langue, comme vous le dites allègrement. Êtes-vous toujours grossier ou suis-je la chance de vous avoir trouvé dans une mauvaise humeur?"

She could have easily turned his words against him. Why did anyone assume everyone else spoke their language? But, she wasn't feeling particularly vengeful for a slight perceived or genuinely given, as it seemed to be. His foul disposition was not caused by her, so she was not responsible for it, but nor did she strive to make it worse.

SPOILER: Click to show

"I speak French, but also Latin, a little, in addition to English. I'm not trapped to one language, as you so blithely stated. Are you always rude, or am I lucky to have stumbled upon you in a bad mood?"

He turned his eyes to her, slowly lowering his beer bottle. Woah- okay, a frenchy. He could work with that. Anything other than english. He would grin broadly and leap forward, aiming a hard left front kick for straight between her breasts. Assuming it hit he'd leap up and jut out his knee, aiming to hit her in the stomach with it.

Lets see what this mama jammah had.

The abrupt movement caused those wide blue eyes to widen a bit more. He was fast. And they were on the sand, which made for a less than ideal environment for combat. So she kept it simple: she sidestepped and used the bag that was already somewhat weighted to swing harshly for his face with a quick twist of her body, the heels of her feet digging into the cushion of earth with the movement.

But she didn't stay in one place to wait for his next attack, no.

She released the bag, having swung for his face, and stepped in to slam the sole of her foot against the side of his knee, hoping to take him off his feet.

The bag did it's trick, Alek's hand coming up to block the blow before his feet came down. He kick connected, but his landing position and twist of his upper body forced the kick into a sweep.

And down he would go!

He slammed onto his back, grunting from the impact before bursting out laughing.

"Tu es rapide. Un combattant. Et ta langue a obtenu un certain talent sérieux. Man .... si je ne ai pas eu mes yeux sur le chancelier, je pourrais simplement tomber en amour avec vous."

He chuckled, bringing the slightly spilled bottle back to his lips, still laying there and drinking sand and booze, not bothering to get up to fight again. Just....a test.

The small blonde backed up, heart racing, but breathing steadily. She wasn't flighty when it came to combat, but she was wary. She had no idea what his intent was, with all of this. And his words, she found distasteful. Certainly, he meant to flatter, and he had. But, much like with her sister, neither used it in a good way.

"Vous pouvez avoir plus de chance avec elle. Je ne suis pas intéressé à vous dans le moindre." She exhaled, not yet moving to pick up the bag, or the trash that spilled from it on its journey to his face. "Are you quite finished, then?"

He took a couple of short breaths, staring up at the sky.

"Ouais .... Je suis fini."

He let the empty bottle drop before bringing a hand to rest on his chest. He would let out a slow, easy breath. He had no real desire to fight. She piqued his curiosity for a moment but he truly had no intention of doing anything more. Despite her speed, and her utilization of the bag, he could snap her like a twig in a heartbeat if he wanted. He felt that, in the first instant. It was his gift and his curse- weighing someone on their merrits in combat. She was...adept, and would hurt him. But he was confident in the result. He was...always confident in the result. And despite testing his confidence time and time again, and coming out on top, his hands were still soaked with blood. He closed his eyes.

He didn't want to think about that anymore. About any of it. The girl, the beer, the dreams....he just wanted to sleep one night without seeing the face of a child. Without feeling the terror and the rage.

"You can be on your way, girl. I apologize for accosting you."

Wasn't he something? Drinking, picking random fights that lasted no more than a few moments, insulting people's intelligence... For a moment, Kyrie stared at him after he dismissed her. Wouldn't she like to leave, and leave him to his misery, alone. Instead, she shook her head and moved to pick up the bag.

"Je accepte vos excuses...mais je ne quitte pas. There is too much to clean, here, to allow me to leave you to yourself and your drink."

She stepped lightly forward, stooping to pick up the bag and return the spilled items to the bowels of it, watching him from the corner of her eye. She figured she knew he was dealing with something, by his mannerisms and what happened thus far. Inactivity had never been a good way to deal with things. At least, such was the case in her experience. It had been five years, for her, and she no longer moped about it. Perhaps this, for him, was fresh.

In any case, she wasn't sure it was her place to ask, yet. For now, regardless, she wanted to focus on cleaning up the beach.

Alek wouldn't respond to the woman. She was taking his words and his attacks quite well. He didn't recognize her. Had never seen her before. He figured he would go ahead and just....let loose on her. Really unload. Make it uncomfortable for her until she got sick of his sop story and just...left.

"A few years ago, my little sisters throat was slit so my parents could collect both the insurance money and the vast donations from the sorrow. I held her while she died and the world burned around me."

His eyebrows came down.

"I don't think...I expected her to be dead. Not really. Her eyes were open, and her body was still warm outside the heat. It wasn't burned or misshapen, and other than the thick red smile from ear to ear, she was like any other twelve year old. Her throat was raw and her fingernails were covered in blood- so I knew when they cut her that she clawed at her neck. Her body was bruised so they hit her or pinched her or touched her from time to time. He pajamas were gone, except for her shirt, so she was raped quite forcefully. It was a...difficult thing to process. Of course, alcohol has always helped."

He chuckled.

"The guy who did it was the son of our old babysitter. I had him in a chair, see, and force fed him a delightful amount of viagra. I cut his dick of and cauterized the stub. Then i blended it up and stuck it in a juicer for him to taste. Added some carrots, make it a really healthy meal. He didn't want to drink it at first but hell, all it took was the promise of a quick death and he guzzled it down. Imagine his disappointment when we spent a week together."

Oh...the look on his face. If only he could relive THAT in his dreams, instead of the former instances...

The sob story was certainly surprising. The blonde hadn't even been sure if she would wind up asking him or not. For a few minutes, she had the relative peace of hearing the waves lap against the shore. It was one of the most soothing sounds she knew of. But, his first sentence took her attention in a two-handed grip and didn't let go. The blonde immediately paused, letting the piece of trash drop into the bag.

Kyrie turned back to her coincidental companion and listened.

Her heart hurt for his loss. She never wanted to feel that, and didn't think anyone else should, either. And though it wasn't the same...she technically had been through it. Damien, his place in her life and especially her sister's, and the fact he was David's brother... It all hit a little too close to home. They'd lost him in the Titan attack five years ago, and it was surprising that it could hurt so much even now, even though she had healed and carried forward to find purpose and peace. She still felt the blame for the incident, and still carried it with her.

She always would.

And she wasn't sure if she was more taken aback by what he'd done - and knowing she was fully capable of similar - or if it was because she didn't know him and he was just dumping some of the weight of it on to her. She gently released her grip on the lip of the bag and stepped back towards him. She stopped a few feet away and quirked her head to the side, watching him with those quiet eyes of hers.

"...there are no words that can accurately convey what I feel about your loss."

Just like she knew he didn't want them if she did, because they could never come close to touching it. She doubted he wanted her empathy, even. But she could imagine it all too well.

Alek would roll over onto his side and to his feet, groaning a little as he was drunk.

He wouldn't answer, instead he would start stumbling off, leaving her on the beach.

OOC: If she doesn't follow, feel free to end it next post

He was leaving..? And he forgot his case of beer. The blonde's nose wrinkled a little bit in disdain. Part of her felt bad; she didn't want to just leave him on his own. She'd probably never hear the end of it from Arianna, especially if he got hurt for some reason. So, she tied off the bag of trash, picked up the case of alcohol, and moved off after him along the sandy shore.

No, it really wouldn't be right to just leave him on his own. If he was so rough around the edges, normally, it was entirely possible that he had nobody that gave enough of a damn to bother asking.

"Your beer would sit a long time if it was up to me to finish it all."