Daryn Elizabeth O'Conner-Roman (darynoconner) wrote in destructionisle, @ 2018-01-01 13:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | daryn o'conner |
characters: Daryn and four NPC guards, with a very special appearance by Dia
setting: January 1, 2018, after 6am, near the beach
summary: New Year, new problems
rating: High for language/violence
Daryn had several, very specific habits and routines that she engaged in each day. Partly, it was because they were things that kept her going. The other reason was to avoid suspicion. If she acted predictably, no one would think she was doing anything wrong.
So despite it being New Year’s Day, Daryn was still up before sunrise for her daily run around the island. Dressed all in black, with earbuds in playing her random list of music, she’d already run halfway around the island when she slowed to a stop near the beach. She jogged in place, watching the sunrise and enjoying the brief moment of beauty. The usual buzz of other’s thoughts in her mind was quieter than usual. She blamed it on the holiday; drunken and/or sleeping thoughts were most often fuzzier, more disorganized, and as a result harder to follow. Which also made them easier to block. The music helped as well. This sort of visual and mental peace, or something close to it, was rare. Daryn took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to savor the moment.
The tranquil moment was shattered, quite suddenly, by the blow of cold, hard metal to the back of her head and neck. Dazed, Daryn pitched forward and landed on a knee, her hand moving to feel a warm trickle of blood at the base of her skull. Blinking a few times, her vision was difficult to focus and something akin to alarms rang in her ears. Get up, run. She tried to compel herself to action, but her moments were slowed and unstead.
Standing again, Daryn turned to face her assailant. The face was a familiar one, the guard from the Facility that had given her trouble a few days ago. The man was obviously drunk, and his angry thoughts now screamed in her mind. Before she could make sense of what he was thinking or planning, the guard reached forward and grabbed the cell phone strapped to her arm bad. Ripping the phone from the material, he dropped it to the ground and then stomped on it several times while looking Daryn directly in the eye. “Nothing to say now, freak?”
Behind the man stood two other guards, not only drunk, but continuing to drink from bottles of beer in a case beside them. They’d obviously been hanging out at the beach, drinking and enjoying the holiday. And Daryn stumbled right into their little party, without realizing it. She should have realized, she should have been listening more closely. Looking to the metal pieces that were once her phone, Daryn tried to decide what to do. She could try to slink away quietly, or she could fight back. Her practical nature told her to try the first option, despite the guard dealing the first blow.
Daryn raised her hands to sign to them, despite already knowing they wouldn’t understand a thing she was trying to communicate. Signing was the better alternative to telepathy, or so she thought. The guard grabbed Daryn by the left wrist and pulled her toward him with a little sneer. “Whatever you’re trying to say, shut up. I know what you did, freak. I know you took your phone back somehow, with your creepy little powers. You won’t disrespect me like that again.”
Seeing that a quiet exit was not in the cards, Daryn’s jaw tensed and her eyes narrowed as the man touched her again. When he grabbed her wrist, his own popped, the ligaments ripping in half, making it impossible for him to keep his grip on her. He dropped to his knees with a scream of pain, holding the injured hand to his chest and spewing a stream of expletives her way. “What the fuck? God damnit, what the hell did you do to me, you stupid little cunt?!” When their friend fell, the other two guards ran forward, one pulling his gun and aiming it at Daryn, the other checking on the injured man.
As soon as the gun was drawn, Daryn used her telekinesis to swipe it from the man’s hand, pointing it in his direction as it hovered, tense in midair. No point in hiding her abilities now, Daryn spoke to the three in their minds. I will shoot all three of you. Or we can all walk away and pretend this never happened. Your choice. Despite the blood running down the back of her neck and her phone destroyed at her feet, Daryn felt strong and in control. She could handle this, she could get out of this and everything would be okay.
But she wasn’t in control. She was hyperfocused on the three in front of her, and didn’t attend to the thoughts of the fourth who snuck up behind her. Without a warning, Daryn was struck by another blow to the back of her head, this time harder, enough to crack her skull. Dropping heavily to the ground, she fought her own body to remain conscious, to try to do something to get away. Simultaneously, the beer bottles shattered to a million pieces, sending shards of glass flying and the gun she’d briefly had control of discharge twice before dropping to the ground.
The rest was a blur. Her vision was in and out, and she couldn’t feel her body. Which was for the best. The three uninjured guards kicked and punched at her head and face and body until Daryn went completely still and lost consciousness. Before leaving her alone, bloody and beaten, they searched her clothing until taking her keys and leaving the scene, heading toward her home.
By the time they were through, Daryn’s home was completely trashed, most of her furniture destroyed, and whatever money or valuable belongings they could find were stolen. A small fire was started in the kitchen, which would hopefully burn itself out or be extinguished before spreading throughout the rest of the home.