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Tweak says, "Zakk learned from the best."

Deirdre Winters; The Snow Queen (snow_bees) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-04-25 22:56:00

Entry tags:

dorian gray, snow queen

Who: Trenton and Deirdre
What: Finding a rather abused Trenton
Where: P4
When: Maybe 5 - 10 minutes after this.
Warnings: Trenton's still pretty messed up.

Deirdre had gone out for a walk to clear her head, staying in her penthouse just allowing her to dwell on the upcoming full moon. She'd spent a short time getting herself a decaf latte, allowing herself the luxury of sitting in the cafe to drink it. She'd been gone for over an hour by the time she returned to the building. After waiting for several minutes for the elevator, she decided to take the stairs.

She could hear the music even before she reached the Deluxe floor, pulsing through the walls of the building and down the stairs to meet her. She had a very good guess as to who the music belonged to, and it made her shoulders tense with irritation. The floor was nearly vibrating by the time she reached the penthouse floor, and it reverberated through her rooms. Dropping her things in her penthouse, she made the decision to finally address the issue.

Going back out into the corridor, she walked quickly to P4 and pounded on the door louder than she would normally knock, the wood practically moving under her knuckles with the volume of the music.

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cyprian
2010-04-26 04:22 am UTC (link)

After the nameless, darkly dressed man had vacated his apartment, Trenton's adrenaline began to wane. That was when the pain took over entirely. The multiple cuts in his chest were nothing compared to the pulsing, tight ache in his side. A puddle of blood had formed beneath his chair, and while it seemed to have slowed in the last minute, the size was still nauseating to behold. He felt himself go a little pale at the sight of it, and shut his eyes against the onslaught of bright light coming down the chandelier above him. He dropped the cell phone, aware that he wasn't going to need 911. Even if he'd called them, how would he explain what happened if he wasn't supposed to say anything to anyone?

The knock broke his train of thought, and Trenton watched the door in a moment of silence. First, there was a flush of fresh fear. But then he realized that if the knife man had returned, he wouldn't be knocking.

"UNLOCKED!" He shouted above the loud music, and found that even using his voice was a little easier than it had been after getting choked out like a Bangkok hooker.

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snow_bees
2010-04-26 04:50 am UTC (link)

Deirdre barely heard the shout over the music, but when she realized what had been said, it only furthered her irritation. Only the rudest of people shouted for someone to enter, instead of answering their door. She was reluctant to even go in, but the noise abuse had to stop.

She drew herself up to her full height, as regal as she'd been since the last time she'd been the Queen, and opened the door to step inside, words on her lips to berate the resident of P4.

The room she stepped into was obviously decorated by a skilled designer, but the decor wasn't what grabbed her attention. The words she'd been about to deliver died as she saw the large red stain on the floor. The color of it caught her eye first, because in this building, it was most likely what everyone dreaded when they saw red. She froze with her hand on the doorknob, her eyes moving up from the floor to the chair, and the sight of the young man in it made her mouth fall open slightly in shock before she could regain her composure.

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cyprian
2010-04-26 05:03 am UTC (link)

His seascape eyes were trained on the opening door with wariness and unresolved fear. He caught a glimpse of red hair and was pervaded with a crushing degree of anger, it was hot enough to burn and Trenton bristled against his restraints. "Oh, you, you fucking bi-"

But then the woman took another step into the polished foyer, and his angry hiss slipped into muted confusion. The redhead was not Boyd, like he'd momentarily led himself to believe. In fact, aside from the red hair, Trenton very quickly assessed that she looked nothing like Boyd. She was easily taller, and had curves like a Cadillac.

His brushstroked eyebrows slid into appraising and speculative arches, and in that moment, Trenton very well might have forgotten that he was bleeding. Already, the cuts on his chest were itching with the promise of healing over soon.

"Help?" His weak plea wasn't even discernible over the blaring music.

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snow_bees
2010-04-26 05:26 am UTC (link)

She recovered from her initial shock enough to take another step in and close the door behind her, corners of her eyes tightening as that only seemed to make the music louder. It seemed that she could barely even catch her breath with the way the bass rattled her entire body. Getting rid of the noise became her first priority, even over attending to the injured young man in the chair. She couldn't do anything if she couldn't even hear herself think. Wrenching her eyes away from the grisly sight of the chair, she searched around the room, hoping to see an obvious sound system that would allow itself to be shut off.

The music was all-encompassing, coming from what must be a surround sound system, but she was finally able to find the elctronics that kept the music alive. Crossing the room with a purpose, she passed the chair, a cooler breeze swirling behind her, and hit the power button on the stereo system. The sudden silence was almost confusing, the only sound Deirdre could hear for a long moment was her own breathing, and then slowly, that of the only other person in the room.

She turned to face him again, looking at him closer this time, and seeing the myriad lacework of cuts covering him, displayed near perfect by the way the ties kept him upright in the chair. While a small, quiet part of herself was crying out with horror at the shock of such a sight, something else kept her calm enough to walk closer. She stayed quiet for a long moment, icy eyes on his, before opening her mouth to speak.

"That does not look comfortable."

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cyprian
2010-04-26 05:57 pm UTC (link)

The abrupt absence of music left Trenton a little dazed, almost empty. The silence was as numbing as the after effects of having the skin peeled from his collar bone. The pain had already mostly subsided, leaving only the healing ache that Trenton was accustomed to after the last time he was stabbed. It was an itch than ran deep. Glancing down, he noted that his chest was too slick with blood to really tell if those cuts had healed or not.

The woman spoke, and Trenton tilted his head as a sign he'd heard her. But he didn't say anything for a long moment. He just watched her with eyes that were a little tired, a little jaded. Not comfortable? What the hell was she talking about? Didn't Trenton look as wonderfully poised as if he was propped on a bed of pillows?

"Yeah, well.. dominatrices take their jobs pretty seriously around here." He arched against the chair with impatience, dropping his patronizing sarcasm a moment later.

"Find me some scissors?"

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snow_bees
2010-04-26 06:50 pm UTC (link)

Deirdre raised a single eyebrow at the comeback. If she looked only at his face, she was able to somehow ignore the blood that was still pooling on the floor. The amount of red seemed to be in contrast with the casual reply from the young man.

She didn't say anything as she turned away to head for the kitchen. She had no clue where else she might find a scissors in this place. She didn't have high hopes for it, but was amazingly able to find one after only a few minutes of searching.

Returning to the living room, she looked at the young man again. He seemed more alert than she thought anyone who'd lost that much blood had a right to be, and her eyes narrowed a bit. She stepped closer again, her toes stopping mere inches from the red. She stood there, holding the scissors loosely in her hand.

"Found them." Her voice was low, ears still nearly ringing from the earlier trauma of the music. "Though someone obviously took pains to put you here. I don't know that I should interfere." She tried to tell herself that she wouldn't be so casual if the young man appeared to be in more distress. Though she felt that concern only as a background thought.

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cyprian
2010-04-26 09:39 pm UTC (link)

Was she fucking serious? She didn't know if she should interfere?! Trenton balked at her with an expression so twisted up in confusion that it was like she'd just told him the Earth was flat. Sinking back against his chair, those bluegreen eyes tightened with fresh anger. Now that he wasn't involved in a high stakes game of Slice N Dice, Trenton could afford a bit of hostility.

"Well.. if you're not cutting me loose, and you're not sucking my dick.. you're really not helping me right now." Point blank. "So why the fuck are you here?" He didn't even know who this woman was, and why her only interest seemed to be gawking at his penthouse when he was quite obviously tied up and bleeding.

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snow_bees
2010-04-27 01:22 am UTC (link)

Deirdre stepped over toward a chair and perched on the edge of it, Trenton's anger washing over her with barely any effect. The comments, though, made her frown, an unamused wrinkle between her eyebrows. Her eyes went colder, and her voice tightened.

"Someone obviously put you there for a reason. And while I've been tempted to do the same on several occasions due to the atrocious volume of the noise that comes from your home, I venture to say that wasn't the reason for this." She gestured at the darkening scarlet of the floor. "And since you seem to be doing surprisingly well for the amount of blood that's on the floor, something that I can only guess is due to the other bizarre things that happen in this building, maybe I should just leave you there." She ignored his obscene comment for the moment, though it most definitely did not escape her attention. "Especially if whoever did this is planning on returning for you."

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cyprian
2010-04-27 03:13 am UTC (link)

This woman must have been a neighbor if she was holding a grudge over his music. Trenton's eyes tightened with an increasing glower of impatience. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have functioning arms right now, I had nothing to do with the music being that loud!" Flustered, he slumped in the chair, which seemed to be the only movement that his restraints allowed for.

Her remaining concerns sank in on him in the silence that followed. He wasn't overly worried that the knife man was going to return any time soon. The stranger'd had his chance to slit Trenton's throat or slice him into a dozen pieces of various shapes and sizes. But he hadn't. He'd left with a warning.

As for why Trenton was so lively and vigorous with snappy comebacks when he should have been in some kind of shock, he closed his eyes with the explanation. "Must be.. adrenaline.." He even went a little limp then, for special effects. Hanging his dark crown for the sympathy vote.

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snow_bees
2010-04-27 03:41 am UTC (link)

"Your arms aren't always tied, I'm supposing. Unless you regularly turn up your music to..." She gestured at the floor again, trailing off. "Whatever's happened here."

Deirdre rolled her eyes a bit at the over-dramatics, not believing the young man at all, and anything but sympathetic. Seeing the cell phone on the floor, she picked it up, careful to avoid getting blood one herself, starting to get a bit nauseous from the scent of it. She noticed the number for 911 already keyed in, and raised an eyebrow.

Still holding the scissors in her other hand, she slipped one blade under the ziptie at his wrist, cutting through it with a single snip. She did the same for the other ties along that arm and then placed the cell phone back in his hand. "You'd better dial then, before your adrenaline wears out." She left the scissors balanced on one of his knees and headed for the door.

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cyprian
2010-04-27 04:13 am UTC (link)

There were plenty of arguments to be made about his music and his private habits, but Trenton wisely refrained. Contrary to popular belief, Trenton knew when to shut up and play nice. Particularly when relying on the hospitality of a woman and a pair of scissors.

When the redhead snipped his ties, Trenton lifted his head warily. He tightened his fingers around the cellphone and watched her make for the door, calling out before she could completely vanish back into the hallway, "What's your name?"

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	snow_bees 2010-04-27 04:31 am UTC (link)
	Deirdre didn't even falter in her steps at the young man's question, simply shaking her head. He was lucky that she'd done as much for him as she had. She definitely wasn't going to give him her name. She opened the door, let herself out, and closed it behind herself again, all without looking back behind her. (Reply to this) (Parent)