Say goodbye, say goodnight

[Mikayla (back <3)]

Say good-bye, say goodnight
To that ever endless fight
Life's at its end, always too cruel
And ever playing its children for the fool.

So say good-bye, say goodnight
To that ever endless fight
If tomorrow I don't come around
Dig way down into that ground.

Say good-bye, say goodnight
To that ever endless fight
Don't go prayin' to Seraphim
Cuz I'll always be there...in your dream.

[/center]

Mikayla Siarra. Mikayla Siarra. Mikayla Siarra. Torn. Broken. Crying. Dying. This was who she was after that second fateful night, the night of her eighteenth birthday. She had entered the tunnels, seeking a home. Instead she found hostility. The child looked down upon her, the man was too busy doing everything else, and all the others were just part of the red haze. And Mikayla Siarra was going to give them a piece of her mind about that.

She showed up at the tunnels on the bright, sunny morn. Clouds of melted sugar dripped across a sky clear as a window. The sun shown bright, but not hot, behind those clouds so pure. It was perfection. Just like the woman entering the tunnels. Her caramel hair curled perfectly, down to her mid-back in length. It had grown in the time that she had been missing. Her eyes were that same crystalline blue of a setting sky. Her body was still lithe, beautiful, curving then slimming to a mouth-watering effect. Her features were delicate, although a touch of blue eyeshadow lined her lower lids, bringing attention to her startling gaze. She was dressed in black as always, black jeans with a black wife beater. Her sneakers were still screaming vermillion red. And she was beautiful.

Mikayla stalked into the halls, seating herself in one of the chairs she had passed before. There she waited patiently, watching the fire, hearing birds sing to her, smelling the scent she had once hoped to call home. She smiled bemusedly. Home. Who needed it? And yet there was some twitch to her eye, some flash in that pure gaze, that gave way to emotions, wishes, and dreams.

"Come on Xavier...child. I know you are both here." Her voice was soft, inaudible to a lycan sitting four feet from her. So soft...so...biding of time. Her eyes shifted to the fire. Soon, soon. She would speak her mind soon.

((Sorry guys...I was bored...and feeling poetic.))

[† Cealla †]

OOC:
My apologies, but Cealla was kidnapped by Fenris and was held in the forest; her home is now uncertain (See 'Verification' in the FF and 'The Journey' at the lake) otherwise I would reply. It's a wonderful post.

-prods Xavier-

[Xavier]

OOC: *whistles* Wow...great post, Mikayla.

Note: This post won't be very long, or very good. Mikayla, you know why.

BIC:

He heard her voice. He smelled her scent. He could sense her presence. She called to him softly, but why? Xavier, the tired, worn Lycan slowly got up from his bed in his chambers and wrapped a long black robe around his body, then tied off the knot and walked out of the room, slowly working his way closer to the originating area of the voice. His feet shuffled their way towards her, and he finally saw her as he rounded a bend in the Tunnels.

Mikayla was strikingly beautiful, as always. She loved to flaunt her gorgeous figure and Xavier was always puzzled as to why she didn't have a boyfriend at the school yet. The Lycan shrugged and smiled weakly at the female.

"Hello, Mikayla. What can I do for you?"

[Mikayla (back <3)]

((thank you ^_^ Yours, although short, holds depth as well. I love how you depict Xavier as so world weary.))

Cut my life into pieces
This is my last resort.
Suffocation, no breathing,
Don't give a fück if I cut my arm, bleeding.

This is my last resort
Do you even care if I die bleeding?

[/i]

The sound of soft footsteps travelled through the tunnels, growing more resilliant as those feet ccame closer to the Entrance Hall. The sound alone was not enough to pull brilliant blue eyes from the fire, and they stayed staring until the footsteps stopped and a voice shattered the silence.

"Hello, Mikayla. What can I do for you?"

Electric blue began to climb slowly then, pulling away from the glue which held them fast to that burning fire. Soft, full lips twitched into a small smirk, a bemused smile which was reflected in her ironic eyes. "Xavier, Xavier." Her voice was like silk now. It had always had that smooth, milky cadance to it, but now, it was as if Mikayla knew she had it, knew its effect, and was pleased to use it. "When will you learn to promise only what you have to give?"

She stood then, muscles moving in places where they didn't exist. Predetary grace in its essence. Even just standing was now sexy, a move showing just how much the lycaness had grown into herself, into who she could be. Still that smirk twitched upon Mikayla's lips as she looked upon the man that could have saved her, but failed. The same on that could have saved the other that had been there that night...the raven haired one. He hadn't done that either. And yet, it was not his fault. After all, how could one save, when he, himself, was falling?

Mikayla took a few steps towards the fire, her eyes never leaving Xavier's. She knelt, blue still trained on orange. Her hand moved slowly, as if it had all the time in the world, and it dipped into the startling red splash of heat, scorching immediately. Eyelids closed slowly, as if to capture some wondrous feeling as she stood, charred, blistered hand moving in front of her as if to reach for Xavier. It was either pure insanity, or more sane than anything else in the world. Of course, that was hard to tell as eyes still clear opened.

Her eyes flicked to take in her burned hand, then back to Xavier. "This...this is what it feels like to live in your dreams. Tell me, Xavier, what do you think? How wonderful must it feel to burn alive?" She laughed, and it was ridiculous to think that thick, honey laugh was accompanying the thought of bodies burning, of infernos raging. "And yet, no one can put us in that fire but ourselves and our past. Should it not be the future, then, that removes us from it?"

She laughed again, the rich sound like candy to ears. "That was what I saw here, once," she mused, eyes looking around her. "The future. How ridiculous." She faced Xavier fully then, eyes connecting with his solidly for the first time since letting her hand slide easily into the burning chill of the flame. "Well, Xavier?" His name was like a promise on her tongue, like a caress of moonlight on bare wolven skin. "If your home is not of the future, then tell me, what is it of?"

And still that sardonic, sadistic smile was upon her lips, for never had it dropped, even as she laughed.

Cut my life into pieces,
This is my last resort.
Don't give a fück if I cut my arm bleeding

Do you even care if I die bleeding?

Cuz I'm losing my sight, losing my mind,
wish somebody would tell me I'm fine
Nothing's alright,
Nothing's fine,
I'm running out of time,
I'm crying,
Do you even care if I die bleeding?

[/i]

[Xavier]

OOC: Again, not the greatest post. I'll probably be like this for a few weeks. I don't know yet. If you want to know why send me a PM.

BIC:

Xavier's eyes seemed to lock onto the pupils of Mikayla's own. His tired, world weary mind froze as Mikayla moved closer to the fire, almost as if it was slow motion. The male couldn't break his eyes from hers. She had caught him in a sad, dangerous trance. Then, she thrust her hand in the flames, the flames that brought warmth and life to the Tunnels, and that had now charred and deformed the skin on her hand. Suddenly the smooth, milky tone of her skin was instantly mutilated into a horrible, melted mass of skin, bone and muscle. Blood slowly oozed from the spots where the skin had broken and blood seeped out of the wounds, the body doing its best to keep out infection and disease. But it was too late. Mikayla had already been caught by a disease of her own. The black, burned flesh smoked as little spots continued to melt.

"Mikayla...what's happened to you? You're...not yourself. What in God's name is wrong?"

Xavier stood silently, knees shaking in shock. The Lycan had to brace himself against the dirt wall, his large palm slamming into the packed dirt wall, leaving a print and causing dust to fly from between his fingers. Xavier listened to Mikayla in horror, her hand still deformed, still mutilated by her own past.

"What...what are you talking about? The Tunnels? Not my future? Mikayla, you've gone mad. You need to see the nurse in the school. I'm afraid for you."

It took Xavier a few seconds, but he realized what Mikayla was asking of him. For weeks now, Xavier had been contemplating moving on with his life and leaving the Tunnels for good. He wanted to go out and see the world, visit the places that he had yet to experience. There were so few positive memories left in this place. They had all turned into negative ones by death, rejection or just plain fear.

"What is my future? My future is the world, Mikayla. My future is going out to experience things that I'm yet to see and probably never would here."

Xavier's eyes looked down at the Lycaness' burnt hand.

"At least let me dress your wound, Mikayla. Otherwise it'll become infected and you could die. But...you'd like that...wouldn't you?"

[Mikayla (back <3)]

Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness
I need to calculate
What creates my own madness
And I'm addicted to your punishment

Mikayla laughed softly. This was too rich. "Not myself? I not myself? Why, Xavier, I am more myself than I ever was before." His knees were shaking, she could see it from where she stood. Her eyes glanced to the hand, pained, crooked, dripping blood and oozing black, charred fluid. One would think it hurt, but instead it felt glorious, like a release of pleasure through her brain.

"You've gone mad.
I'm afraid for you."

Mikayla's laugh only grew in strength at this. Afraid for her? Whyever would anyone be afraid for her. She wasn't insane... "Delicious, Love, I am making my world what it was meant to be. I need not see a nurse, when all that I have is a blessing."

I feel irrational...

[/i]

The one thing that brought a frown to that gorgeous face, a pout that would cause the heartless to weep, was his ramblings on about doing other things. "I suppose you must find yourself too then. That's what I did from my first den." And the smile was back, ironic as ever. "Just look how glorious that turned out, right?"

So confrontational...

[/center]

"You could die.
But you'd like that wouldn't you?"

Mikayla laughed, a touch uncertainly almost, as her body stalked forth with an ease not her own. She lifted the mutilated hand, feeling the sick slime slide down her skin and reveling in the sensation. "Come Xavier, do you think so low of me?" Her eyes flashed, their brilliant blue connecting with his orange. "I don't dream of my own death. I don't dream anymore. I live." She laughed again. So much laughing over so much pain. "But please, Xavier, if it will calm your mind, bring ease to your...suffering...bandage my wound. Lovely as it is, I would make the sacrafice for your peace of mind."

I drink my drink and I don't even want to
I think my thoughts when I don't even need to
I never look back cause I don't even want to

Somewhere beyond happiness and sadness
I need to calculate
What creates my own madness
And I'm addicted to your punishment
And you're the master
And I am craving this disaster

[/center]

[Rogue]

Ooc: No worries.

[Mikayla (back <3)]

((OOC: Yeah...I'm sorry, but just this once I will take your offer of not posting, and will proclaim this thread Invite Only.

Sorry, but I'm being a selfish little puppy here, and I know your character's presence will shatter my character's mind...again...soooo...maybe later in the thread...))

[Xavier]

OOC: *blinks* Wow...I feel privaledged. Sorry Rogue. I have no idea what she's got planned.

BIC:

Were Xavier's eyes deceiving him? She wasn't in any form of pain whatsoever. No tears, no crying, no sign of any type of anguish. Instead she was...happy? Happier than he'd ever seen her before. Xavier's mouth opened and shut a few times, as if words were trying to escape. Instead, Xavier closed his eyes and shook his head solemnly. No words could describe what she must have been feeling. He nodded and gave a weak, tired smile at Mikayla as she gave him permission to dress the wound. Xavier muttered under his breath:

"What happened to you, Mikayla?" so quietly that even he barely heard himself.

Xavier left for only a moment, then returned carrying a small white box with the traditional red cross on the lid. Xavier placed the box on the table and snapped open the lid, then took out a pair of surgical needlenose pliers, some cottonballs, a bottle of disinfectant and gauze and a bottle of potion. Then Xavier closed the lid and snapped it shut and held up the materials.

"I'm going to clean and disinfect the wound, then I'm going to apply this potion to help some of the skin regrow. But you're still going to have a scar there for the rest of your life."

After he finished, Xavier knelt down in front of Mikayla and gently grasped her injured arm above the wound. He took the cottonballs and the surgical pliers and gently cleaned off the blood, pus and scorched skin. Then he took the bottle of disinfectant and sprayed it over her injured hand, followed by the bottle of potion, which he poured directly onto her hand. The liquid steamed as it hit the injured cells, renewing them with life and removing the heat from it. After Xavier had covered every inch of her hand, Xavier took the gauze and began wrapping her hand over and over, wrapping each finger as well so that her hand would still look like a hand. As he finished he tied off the gauze and tore off the remaining material with his teeth. Satisfied, he let go of her hand and stood up, tossing the used cottonballs and gauze into the fire, causing it to light up for a moment before settling down again. Then Xavier put away the tools and closed the box and looked into Mikayla's eyes again.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that, Mikayla," he muttered quietly.

[Mikayla (back <3)]

Circling, you're circling, you're circling you're head,
comtemplating everything you ever said, now I see the truth I got a doubt,
a different motive in your eyes and now I'm out, see you later
I see your fantasy, you wanna make it a reality paved in gold,
see inside, inside of our heads yeah, well now that's over,
I see your motives inside, decisions to hide.

[/i]

Scar...she burnt half her hand off, and he says, there's going to be a scar there. Thank you, captain obvious. And yet, the concern half hidden in his voice and eyes spoke to Mikayla, reached out to her like when she first arrived at the tunnels. She shook it off. Her return was to show what she had become, not leave herself vulnerable to relive the pain. Besides, pain felt so much more amazing than pleasure. Pleasure cannot be conjured of nothing, but all pain needs is a prick and you're flying high again.

Xavier knelt, gently cleaning the wound. A shiver at the feel of soft kindness being used almost escaped Mikayla's iron control, but she continued to stare unbendingly at his strong hand grasping just over her injured one.. It reminded her of when she had been scraped as a child, young then as her father was still alive, and he had cleaned her impatient hand before scooting her off to play again. Then she was released, a soft mist settling over her hand as the soft click of plastic moving through plastic grated against her ears. The spray stung slightly, and it helped her rebuild the commposure she had gained through pain and tears.

The first drop of the potion pulled an involuntary gasp from the depths of Mikayla's lungs as her eyes fluttered closed. It was like sticking her hand into snow, and it reminded her so much of home she could not repress a shudder this time. It moved swiftly through her, starting at her neck and shaking every limb down to her toes. She pulled her now drenched had from the drip, the reaction she should have had from burning herself, and opened raging eyes. Too wide eyes. Eyes staving off tears.

He wasn't done however. He proceeded to wrap every inch of her hand, trap every bit of that soft coolness, and ease of pain in. She looked away before he could see the horror in her eyes, waited til he was finished, and was ready to turn around, slap her own face, slice herself, do anything to bring back the calm.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that Mikayla."

[/i]

Mikayla's body froze, her head turning to confront Orange with confused, pained, dying Blue. "You had your chance to stop me," she whispered. "You had your chance and never believe you didn't." She looked away. Even her dominant eyes could not look at someone while they said something so true, something baring all their soul. "This is all that's left of me. I don't believe in joy anymore, because it eludes you when you need it most. All I believe in is pain, torment." There were no more laughs left in her. "I didn't come back to show you how well off I'd become. I came to show you the monster I have been transformed into and leave. No doubt my death will come, and you were one of the only to even feel pity for me. You tried but you failed...we all failed."

"I just...don't belong anywhere. With anyone." She smiled and all the insecurities came forth. Why didn't Mikayla have a boyfriend at the school? It was so simple. Confidence is everything. Gorgeous and belieiving yourself a monster gets you nowhere. Didn't Xavier ever learn this? Her whisper was soft, broken. "I don't belong..."

Back off I'll take you on
headstrong to take on anyone
I know that you are wrong,

[/b]and this is not where you belong.[/b][/center][/i]

[Mikayla (back <3)]

((I shall continue to post here as my lasting thread throughout my illnesses....as I have returned...at least for the time being. <333 Mika Siarra))

Mikayla tore her own hand away from Xavier. "No..not dying," she whispered, haunted. Ever haunted. Her red shoes squeaked as she went back to the fire. They slid from below her, letting her kneel nearly too close to the insane heat. "Sick. I'm sick." She laughed, looked at her hand as tears continued to stain her clear eyes. "Worse than dying." Her arms wrapped around her tightly, squeezing away the pain. A soft wind rustled through the entrance, making Mikayla's body shake from the top of her curls to the streaked front of her shoes.

She looked up to the cieling, thinking aloud while seeing only brown rock. "I had wanted always to be how I began, but they stole that from me. Still I tried, but it was stolen again." She lay back entirely, watching the cieling with much too much interest. "She-them-they took me in, tried to take my pain, but all it made me was the monster I never wanted to become." Mikayla gasped as something deep in her chest stung. Had it really been so long ago that she thought her ribs had pierced her heart and her death was finally there?

"You brought it back," Her eyes roved, furious, to find Xavier. "I didn't have to know, I could have kept fooling myself. You never had to bring it back." Mikayla rolled to her feet and stalked forth, murder in her eyes. "You. I could have stayed away and died, but I came to you for help. I thought...I thought-" Mikayla's voice cracked. "I thought you loved me, not that you pitied me. Such an easy pity to disguard and let me leave, more blinded than ever before but with dreams of life. Are you glad you brought forth my pain?"

Mikayla ran soundlessly out the door, gasping as the bitter cold crept through her scant clothes. Her mouth, still open, dropped to open completely, and she let forth a heart-wrenching howl of pain, exhaustion, death. She did not feel the tears streaming down her eyes. It was never her fault she was sick, it was their faults. All their faults. Better she had never been born.

If she could run, however...run and never stop... Mikayla gnawed at the bandages Xavier had so carefully wrapped. One canine bit through to the skin. The pain was instant and unexpected, throwing her to the ground with the force of it. She was crying harder now, tearing futily and the tape. "I don't want to be here anymore." She tried to explain to the feeling of security being wrapped gave.

"I'm not falling for the trick anymore,
and I don't want to live."

((This is the expression of my none-too-happy soul. Don't like it, then don't read it))