Who: Mastermind and WildChild When: March 25th, evening Where: Island then Jet What: Dealing with the aftermath of the conversation with Ginny
Jason heard the boy manage to catch up to him as he made his way to the landing strip. He needed to go, to get off this poisonous rock of a grave yard. There was too much death here and for a moment, the elder felt like he could almost smell the blood as he moved. This whole thing was making him very upset. The sooner they both were away from that place, the better.
He shook his head. The island, it does things to you. Kyle had said that, and Jason knew he was one of the worst in the bunch without reserve. He could easily be one of them, so easy to just accept that he was greater, better, more deserving of his freedom. He had fought his own battles, killed numbers, blood seeping through gashing wounds. It wasn't just his stature or his age that separated him from others. He had fought his own battle grounds and innocents had died. Over and over, they died to grant him a slip of the humanity that they all had to being with. Death to become one of them. Death to maintain one of them. Revel in it, like an islander, like a visitor, an owner, a cock sucking murder. Send them in to die, kill, and slaughter again and again. Push them into being animals, no longer people, no longer hold the emotions that mean so much to the humans who laugh at the beasts bleeding out. Force them to break, to bend into a mold that was already set out for them. Was THIS what they wanted of people? To lose themselves in the dirt that the island held? Was that what they all desired? A tainted existence with nothing more than continuing to taint the poor souls that they caged for their own pleasure?
This was not the life he wanted, days of forcing those around him into their worst nightmares. This was not the way he wanted to live. This was not the place he had wanted to bring others into, not how it should be. THIS was not a healthy or normal master/pet relationship. None of them understood the reality that he did, the way it should have been, could have been if only they could look beyond their mortal shells of bullshit and into the honest necessity for balance. For fucks sake. He needed to get home before he exploded at someone.