![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
My name is Nikita. Seven years ago I was taken off of Death Row and trained to be an assassin by a covert unit of the government called Division. Four years ago, I escaped and I've been hunted ever since. I thought I'd seen everything, every evil the most depraved human minds could dream up. I was wrong...
"Sleep well and dream of large women," Nikita wheezes, out of breath when she finally drops to a walk almost a mile from where she left the boy, Finnick. It's been circling in her head, along with manic laughter and the Gilligan's Island theme song since the other boy released her wrist. Danger Will Robinson, Doctor Who and Lost in Space have all flashed while she ran, too, which makes her wonder just what the hell Amanda or Percy put into this cocktail or Brandt, whichever one's got her.
She thinks it has to be Amanda. Percy wouldn't drug her. He'd want her lucid for his stupid monologuing. Brandt wouldn't want her hallucinating, so it'd be something to make her pliant, maybe, but he wants her to hurt. Amanda's the only one who likes to torture like this. Breaking the mind open like a geode so the glittering secrets come spilling out.
Well she can't have hers. Amanda can't have her secrets, she can't touch Michael and Birkhoff and Alex and Ryan and Sean and Owen. She can't. Nikita's locked them and the black boxes all up behind walls as impenetrable as Birkhoff's firewalls. They're safe and Nikita will run and fight and scream and claw until she dies.
But first, she needs to take her bearings and get something to drink. There's a stream, it flows clear. In a dream, that should mean safety. If this place is real, if they're coming after her, it's a good place for an ambush. She's so thirsty, her head hurts so much. Her ribs want to stab out her lungs, but she's focused on staying alive and keeping her secrets, so she's not thinking about...no, she's not thinking about Michael.
Right now, shes going stay here behind this rock and watch for pursuit. Rest a few minutes, catch her breath, try not to pass out again, and then get some water...
"Sleep well and dream of large women," Nikita wheezes, out of breath when she finally drops to a walk almost a mile from where she left the boy, Finnick. It's been circling in her head, along with manic laughter and the Gilligan's Island theme song since the other boy released her wrist. Danger Will Robinson, Doctor Who and Lost in Space have all flashed while she ran, too, which makes her wonder just what the hell Amanda or Percy put into this cocktail or Brandt, whichever one's got her.
She thinks it has to be Amanda. Percy wouldn't drug her. He'd want her lucid for his stupid monologuing. Brandt wouldn't want her hallucinating, so it'd be something to make her pliant, maybe, but he wants her to hurt. Amanda's the only one who likes to torture like this. Breaking the mind open like a geode so the glittering secrets come spilling out.
Well she can't have hers. Amanda can't have her secrets, she can't touch Michael and Birkhoff and Alex and Ryan and Sean and Owen. She can't. Nikita's locked them and the black boxes all up behind walls as impenetrable as Birkhoff's firewalls. They're safe and Nikita will run and fight and scream and claw until she dies.
But first, she needs to take her bearings and get something to drink. There's a stream, it flows clear. In a dream, that should mean safety. If this place is real, if they're coming after her, it's a good place for an ambush. She's so thirsty, her head hurts so much. Her ribs want to stab out her lungs, but she's focused on staying alive and keeping her secrets, so she's not thinking about...no, she's not thinking about Michael.
Right now, shes going stay here behind this rock and watch for pursuit. Rest a few minutes, catch her breath, try not to pass out again, and then get some water...
no subject
Date: 2012-06-22 02:33 am (UTC)From:"You never fought magic," he says simply, and cuts the binding on her wrists.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-22 06:03 am (UTC)From:Her eyes are dark and steady on his, confidence restored with the freedom of movement. There's no threat there, not for him. He's setting her free. And to prove it, she waits for him to cut her shoulders loose, instead of reaching for her knife to do it herself.