Who: Synthesis [closed]
When: Saturday, Jan 17, 2008 Evening
Where: His room
What: Contemplating the consequences of his actions and what to do from here
Rating: None


Aidrian had memorized every inch of his room in the last five days he'd been confined. Not that any of it was a surprise after five years, but one tended to become so used to little details that you forgot them. But he'd nothing else this week after Fischer decreed solitary confinement and loss of priviledges for a week. He hadn't fought the consequences, knowing that argument would have brought worse. The stallion in him missed the interaction; he was more of social creature that his reserved demeanor usually let on. No one spoke to him, no one came in the room. It opened only to give him food, a restricted portion from his usual fare. He figured his owner saw him as doing no work and therefore undeserving of the sustanence to sustain anything except mere living. It didn't bother him overmuch; regular meals after living on the streets for much of his teenage years was a luxury. Though he'd never tell them that.

With nothing else to do but stare at blank walls or try to sleep when he wasn't really tired, Aidrian's thoughts turned to the puzzle that had haunted his thoughts for most of the time he'd been in Revolve. He'd seen the death match a week ago. The tiger's actions hadn't disturbed him; being animal himself, the interplay of predator and prey seemed more natural even in the current setting. But he remained wary. Just because he remembered the little tiger cub who'd been his twin so many years ago didn't mean this five hundred pound killer was that cub all grown up. Even if this Hellcat was his brother, there was no guarentee it would mean anything to the other male. The news that they were related could even be met with hatred or violence. But the part of him the yearned for pack, herd, family whether by blood or choice still hoped. He leaned back, liquid-dark eyes closed as another thought twisted his heart. What if it did mean something and someone used it against them. A faint shudder went through him. He couldn't bear to be the cause again.

That speculation brought back the memories, both of what had happened to Brynn and the one he tried not to think about. Mikah. Lover and friend until an attack meant for Aidrian brought the blond's death. Gentle Mikah, able to turn on the ice enough to make it through the life they'd led, but not a killer. Not a predator at heart. Oh, he could be stubborn, but that was one of the things that had helped him win Aidrian over. So young and yet not young at all. He'd been wary, having seen the way people could turn on you as a child, but wanting the connection with another person when he'd met the blond. Now that he'd opened the door, the memories continued and Aidrian could feel salt-scented moisture leaking down his cheeks but made no move to brush the tears away. He could smell that familiar scent, it had always reminded him faintly of lilac and the freshness of wind off the sea. A real breakfast early in the morning when they'd scrounged enough money together to share a plate of pancakes. The softness of Mikah's hair after a shower before he'd geled it into a messy, spiky style. Quiet moments when they'd finally settled in for sleep and Mikah was tucked close, pale skin outlined in moonlight.

He managed to turn his thoughts away before the memories that gave him nightmares arose. Aidrian stretched, opening eyes that were still glimmering with unshed tears. He moved from leaning against the wall to laying on his side, feeling tired all of a sudden. He'd not been able to see Brynn since the attack and knew she was likely disturbed by what had happened. As much as he'd been detached in his interaction with others here, compassion was not entirely buried and Brynn was one of the few that had gotten into his heart. Aidrian hated not being able to be there for her after what had happened. The violation she'd suffered still sparked his temper. He wished he'd gotten there just that much sooner to stop it before it'd begun, but at least that bastard could never touch her again. Could never touch anyone again. Two more days, then he could find out how she was doing. Two more days until he could breathe real fresh air again, move in a space larger than the blank-walled room. Maybe he could think of another way to get close to the mutant that might be his twin. Close enough to know if his other half had truly survived. Although he was no longer sure which answer he was hoping to find.