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Ghost [Solo - Complete]

Zevran

The Black Shadow
Canon Character
DAO/DA2 Timeline
Posts
25
#1
((OOC: Events occurred in Wintermarch 9:32 ending in a brothel in Amaranthine))

They kept the window closed.

Zevran knew the tactic. Keep the prisoner disoriented with no sense of night or day, no sense of how much time they have been incarcerated. Two weeks, three months, there was no knowing which. Everything blended together in one drawn out experience with no way to differentiate the passage of time save the change of the guard, save the change of tormentor, save the coloring of those bruises and marks upon his skin he was able to see.

At least they no longer hung him from the ceiling.


------


Consciousness invaded in a wave of cold water and the gentle stroke of a strong hand.

Mule. The man came to clean Zevran’s wounds, to wipe away as much evidence as torture as possible. Ricmo preferred his playthings clean.

Mule was an oversized man, so tall he had to crouch within the small confines of Zevran’s room upon the ship. Others may have seen nothing but a walking sack of meat stuffed into clothing two sizes too small.

Zevran saw an opportunity.


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A small bit of kindness could go a long way. The easy slide of his mouth in friendly smile, the careful tilt of his chin, perfected feigned vulnerability reflected within amber eyes were all it took to tame a beast. He asked the man’s name, not his nickname.

Yannick

He spoke of injustice in the way Yannick was treated.
He spoke of caring, of affection, of appreciation of the soft touch of large hands.
He spoke of loosening bonds and a freedom to be shared together.


-------


A thousand needles pierced his skin, the feel of salt water against the skin enough to draw a whimper of a cry from deep within Zevran’s throat. His arms moved within the sea, too weak to keep him afloat, not strong enough to lift in stroke.

He sank within the waters, breath held as if that might be enough to save him, enough to draw him towards the coastline of Amaranthine. He had survived this long and for what… To drown? Perhaps not his smartest of plans.

Familiar arms wrapped about his waist, pulling up upward until his head was above water. Brackish air filled his lungs in heaving gasps.

Yannick


---------


Zevran smelled flowers.

Slowly he opened his eyes and, for a moment, he wondered if all had been a dream. Scarlet covered walls, silk drapes, furnishings made of rich wood surrounded him. But within the doorway, he saw a familiar figure and he knew…

Yannick..
 
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