[color=gray][CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/mnuXeVg.jpg[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=978184][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Infirmary Wing: Solitary Confinement . Infirmary Gardens . - P.R.C.U. Campus.[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=#978184][b]Take On Me #3.015:[/b][/COLOR] [I]away.[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][center][sup][color=#2e2c2c]_____[/color][color=#373534]_____[/color][color=#403d3c]_____[/color][color=#494644]_____[/color][color=#524f4c]_____[/color][color=#5b5754]_____[/color][color=#64605d]_____[/color][color=#6e6965]_____[/color][color=#77716d]_____[/color][color=#807a75]_____[/color][color=#89837d]_____[/color][color=#928b85]_____[/color][/sup][sup][color=#9b948d]_____[/color][/sup][sup][color=#928b85]_____[/color][color=#89837d]_____[/color][color=#807a75]_____[/color][color=#77716d]_____[/color][color=#6e6965]_____[/color][color=#64605d]_____[/color][color=#5b5754]_____[/color][color=#524f4c]_____[/color][color=#494644]_____[/color][color=#403d3c]_____[/color][color=#373534]_____[/color][color=#2e2c2c]_____[/color][/sup][/center][INDENT][sub][color=#978184][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] &&[/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=#978184][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [color=gray][I]reflection.[/I][/color][/right][/SUP]
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[i]They’ve taken so much from her already - she counts it down, writes it in hated slashes across her soul, tallies everything, remembers it all. With a finger dragged through ash and blood her signature blooms bright and edged in vengeance, the looping scrawl of a harsh delicacy that spells the name given, the name chosen, and the name both lost and forsaken —[/i]

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By the fifth vial of blood taken, Amma’s voice rasps through her throat, dragged over shards of bone as she tries to reign in that quaking violence of self-preservation to keep her wrath in check. She feels the needle beneath her skin, in the crook of her arm that trembles over the cushion of a slight medical cart rolled in with her sudden guardians stationed at either wall, both equipped with powers she does not know. Still, she could feel them there by the lazily churning scarlet whorls that slither beneath her bed and clamor over her ankles, focusing more so on the one that had been broken and now was set with a simple brace strapped painfully tight against her sensitive skin. It was a peculiar situation when she had been sedated and taken from the Trial’s conclusion, her bones had already begun to mend, a medical anomaly that had her wounds setting incorrectly, which introduced the necessity of breaking her ankle once again for a healer to mend marrow, tendons, and tissue to grant her mobility.

	[color=#978184]“Why the blood draw?”[/color] A simple inquiry, her usual cadence dragged into exhaustion, psychological detriment weighing heavy on her spirit. 

	[color=ffffff]“Torres requested we run a panel,”[/color] her assigned nurse had been quiet and calm, her presence one typically accustomed to patients like Amma, to her she saw a young woman battered and worn, whereas many others saw a spy or a furious creature that had attempted to defy their orders since she had woken up from her sedation. Reproach alighted blue eyes framed heavily in lashes, lids surrendered over the breadth of her stare, a sort of melancholic unveiling that took her intense features and softened them into something delicate- something not quite there. She takes one more, the needle sliding out from her vein a surreal sensation that she feels down to her bones, and lets loose a shuddered breath as the nurse presses gauze to her skin and seals it with medical tape. 

	[color=ffffff]“There,”[/color] she stepped back, her guardians stepped in close, a whispering trepidation that coiled through the room with a spool of crimson poised over the embellished skin of her arm, linked to the scars that crossed over one another, carefully betwixt the bodies of snakes that wreathed her arms with skull laden birds in flight. [color=ffffff]“I would advise more rest, you have a therapy session scheduled later this evening, though I will reschedule them for tomorrow if you’re too tired.”[/color]

Her brow lowered, just how many more did she have to participate in to be released? It was the same inquiries over and over, questions about her mental state, questions about what happened in the simulation, questions that probed too deep into a mind chained and bound- there were so many things she could not remember. Many things she did not want to remember.

	[color=#978184]“I’d like to go outside,”[/color] Amma uttered, a restless kindling of silver banked within her stare. [color=#978184]“You don’t need permission for that, do you?”[/color] A quiet challenge, her nurse quietly disposed of needles and plastic and gathered the vials carefully with a whistling sigh. 

	[color=ffffff]“...It’d be my professional medical opinion that you are allowed fresh air. Just don’t make me regret it, Ms. Cahors.”[/color] She made to wheel her medical cart out from her room, holding the door ajar to retrieve a duffel bag just outside.

	[color=ffffff]“Your house representative, Ms. Clarke, retrieved some things from your room.”[/color]

Left alone, Amma carefully rummaged through what Ryan had deemed appropriate through her earlier request after she had been denied passage on the ferry. Blouses in various shades of grey and black; a couple of her sweaters of cable knit stitching; and another that was cropped to fit slightly above her navel; cut-offs, and fitted leggings; all things afforded to comfort along with a pack of her clove cigarettes tucked carefully into an adjacent pocket and a lighter to accompany it. Amma dressed carefully, every muscle taut and protesting against her movements whilst she changed, fresh bandages fitted where proper, her anxious habits traded for shredding them without her rings to adorn her fingers. She felt exposed by the scar defiling her body, the peak of the ruined flesh and moth bisected by it revealed through the drape of the pullover as it settled over her lithesome shoulders and scooped low at her front. She threaded her arachnid gestures through her mass of hair, settling the strands into a high-strung tail that displayed the lines of her neck and the unique name scrawled at her throat in black ink. 

Once long nails traced over the letting, the phantom sensation of a burn coiling through the ‘I’, her index finger edging out over an ‘M’ before she stilled, settling her palm against the pulse hammering away at her throat. Amma inhales, sharp and whistling over the pout of her lip, at least the simulation hadn’t shown her [i]them[/i].

She knows she would not be alive if it had. 

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There’s a slight commotion elsewhere whilst Amma is escorted outside, the entrance to the infirmary is temporarily warded off and it’s down another series of hallways that they take around to the gardens. Such a term is lost in the reality that it’s a few trees scattered to the edges of intersecting walkways that conjoin the myriad of medical wings through an outdoor option where patients are permitted to linger. It’s quiet, save for a few students flitting to the shade, their whispers growing hushed when they notice her. The discarding of the standard uniform is taken to well enough, by the observation she proffers with a cant of her head, raking eyes up and down until she dismisses them with a flicked wrist and settles at a stone bench given to the shadow of a dogwood tree. Her guards station themselves far enough but she is kept within their line of sight, the familiarity of such an entourage not lost upon her as she plucks a stick of clove from her pack and nestles the filter against her pout, striking her lighter with a flourish and palms the flame close to her. Embers reflect in her eyes, the hypnotizing twirl of fire warming against her scars, the igniting of the cherry, and that tantalizing spice wafting up upon her visage as she inhales sharp and heavy and exhales upon a plume of vanilla and sweet herbs. 

The conclusion of her continuation to attend P.R.C.U is anti-climatic at best, she’s already requested an audience with Torres upon her return to the island, amended with her request for what personal clothing she had. Returning to those damned pyramids out amongst the sea unsettles her, but at least there she knows her purpose, at least there she can resume her preparations for joining The Foundation Force under the appellation of Tiamat. Amma recalls the first time she slid into latex and lace, delicate latches of silver, gossamer finery slid over hips and bisected through the gaping slivers that plunged low and teased at the most intricate of tattoos that curled over her midriff- the shawl that had been granted, handed over by them, a face that–

Her recollections are interrupted in such a delicate manner that Amma’s motions are stilled carefully, the telltale sensation of being watched beyond the station of her guards coiling through her bones and pinging down her spine in whispers of awareness. There, in a breathing sigh of her name –

	[color=000000][i]Tiamat.[/i][/color]

A caress against her mind, a shuddering claim that slides betwixt her ears and buzzes away at her lobe, it crawls through every sheered nerve ending and sires through her blood. Her name - her name - that breezes through her soul.

	[color=000000][i]Amma.[/i][/color]

She feels it against her back first, a sudden weight that slides up yonder her sweater, pulling away at the thread of her clothes before it crests over her shoulder. A triangle head, a slightly upturned snout, black scales rippling through dappled sunlight, a hiss that slides against the shell of her pierced ear as a viper bunches against the curve of her clavicle.

	[color=000000][i]Ammar –[/i][/color]

	[color=#978184][i]“Don’t,”[/i][/color] she breathes, head tilted up, the sudden presence of a secondary serpent coiling and sliding against the juncture of her throat, forked tongue against her flesh as a trilling sound rises against the sensitive plans of her body. The dogwood sways above, a perpetual shade of darkness rising to her stare as a third snake settles across her lap, bunched over her thighs, causing her to still even her rising chest that crumbles away at the breath that stutters from her swollen mouth. Eyes of red, eyes of blue liken to her own, eyes of steelish azure, eyes of vermillion, eyes of the sky that shatter again and again, and then the soft flutterings of skull-faced moths that hover just yonder her rigid figure. Wings of ashen black and red, with smudges of demented yellow, twittering birds constructed of frail bone that perch above her crown, lost among skeletal branches that pierce the heavens.

Twisted shadows malformed in the distance, the decaying brown hue of bone smudged in black as a myriad of hellish hounds leap forward, tooth and claw poised to tear her very throat out as the serpents hiss and agitate themselves against the hideous scar rent over her heart and cinch tight around her limbs, curved fangs against her breast, a piercing flare of pain that tears through her skin, shorn to the bone – and there, she sees it, the siring of a reaper that looms over her very soul, a threaded line of scarlet stricken to her chest, invading through her being – it[i] tugs[/i], her spine curved inward, wound so tight she can hear and feel her bones [i]breaking[/i] – 

And then, nothing.

It stops so suddenly Amma falls to her knees, fallen away from the stone bench rigid against her spine tense with pain. Her two guards snap to attention, shuffling forward to assist where she lifts her trembling palm, brows plunged low over her glare as she commands:

	[color=#978184]“Don’t, I’m fine. [/color][color=#978184][i]Stay away from me[/i][/color][color=#978184].”[/color] A hiss writhes against her mind, her captors exchanging glances and inching closer, situating themselves at an immediate distance as Amma struggles to retain her composure, her breath heaved from her ribs that ache – [i]everything ached[/i]. She deigns to remain sitting on the grass, comforted at the moment by the sensations against the scars laden through her gestures, nails sunk deep into the dirt, anchoring her to reality. She cannot, however, ignore the telltale awareness that she is still being watched, from beyond somewhere in the trees above where a buzzing continues to ebb and flow.

Be it in the distance yonder, or perhaps still in her mind, a screech so terrible and so haunting explodes through her waking world, a roar that demanded nothing but death and hungered for it - like nothing she has ever heard before.


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