http://lytaalex.livejournal.com/ (
lytaalex.livejournal.com) wrote in
trans_92008-08-28 11:30 pm
Entry tags:
A Gate To...?
Still in the city.
Considering the sheer size of the megalopolis that Stacy was carrying around, Lyta was hardly surprised that even after hours walking up and down its 'streets,' she still got the feeling that she hadn't even begun to scratch the surface with this place. If the large blue--and perfectly symmetric--blue tree had taken her breath away, then what she saw when had turned this last corner had left her just as awestruck in its beauty. A massive gate, cast in gold filigree, with the shapes and forms of what appeared to be angels carved into its surface--each flawless, as if it'd been etched into the giant doorway by a skilled craftsman. It was beautiful, yet at the same time mind boggling. The contrast of the 'ugliness' of Stacy's interior with some of the gorgeous structures she carried inside of her left Lyta with more and more questions the longer she explored. And rarely with any answers.
Considering the sheer size of the megalopolis that Stacy was carrying around, Lyta was hardly surprised that even after hours walking up and down its 'streets,' she still got the feeling that she hadn't even begun to scratch the surface with this place. If the large blue--and perfectly symmetric--blue tree had taken her breath away, then what she saw when had turned this last corner had left her just as awestruck in its beauty. A massive gate, cast in gold filigree, with the shapes and forms of what appeared to be angels carved into its surface--each flawless, as if it'd been etched into the giant doorway by a skilled craftsman. It was beautiful, yet at the same time mind boggling. The contrast of the 'ugliness' of Stacy's interior with some of the gorgeous structures she carried inside of her left Lyta with more and more questions the longer she explored. And rarely with any answers.

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She then turned to the door, stepped toward and placing her hand on it, running her palm down its engraved surface. "And we'll never know what's behind it unless we look..."
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Something about it had her instincts going and she didn't know what exactly it was. She just had this sense of...foreboding.
As beautiful as the carvings were, something wasn't...right.
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"I'd say we should, or do you want those damn kids to open it themselves? Better we find out what the hell it is first?"
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"There is no fence to sit on between heaven and hell. There is a chasm, and in that chasm is no place for any man.”
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"What do we do about the others?" she asked, looking over at Cybil. She was--apparently--the captain, after all. "What if they open it anyway?"
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Then the world went white, and she and fell to her knees, holding her head.
"Gnnnnh!"
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"What the hell is going on?"
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"They went like lambs to the slaughter. A thing which is always subject to the direction of another is a dead thing. Your reach will likely exceed your grasp, but freedom lies in being bold. Self-determination is never easy."
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Bad move.
Extremely powerful thoughts, especially ones with a lot of emotion attached to them, were next to impossible for a telepath to block. Even more so when the telepath was in close proximity to the source.
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"Let her go. Now, or we're coming in by force."
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"Those who aide the demon, they must be cleansed by the fire from whence they came!"
She was always burning.
But she always went offscript. As her flesh bubbled and burned, as her clothes blackened, she screamed:
"I know it's not real, you sick fucks! I know what you're trying to do--and you're not going to make me forget what you've done! You murderers!"
Christabelle and the crowd in the church disappeared and figures appeared at consoles, revealing that it was all part of a room, she trapped in a sort of medical table with insect-like legs holding her in place, trapped, she was hooked up to wires, something was stuck in her skull. Holograms, and technology messing with her nerves, causing her pain, making her feel something that wasn't there. All illusions and lies, playing on an old memory to break her.
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"Run the simulation again."
"But, sir, it appears we may just have to kill her, or force the process and send her back brain-altered like the Fenton boy--"
"She stays. She was the captain. Run it until she breaks. The others forgot. She will as well."
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"The memory of the gate is to blame. He's not finished with her yet."
Cybil screamed, her nose starting to bleed, and her eyes started to glow red, and it was then that it likely became apparent to Lyta, that Cybil wasn't alone. There was another consciousness in her body with her.
"He'll come for them, one by one, until the dams break and the flood scours the barren earth."
It was a threat.
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It was chaotic and random, jumping from one memory, one voice, to the next. But it was when she became aware of the other presence that Lyta's brow drew together in anger, her eyes becoming black pools as her Vorlon enhanced abilities kicked in.
Who are you?, she demanded, tightening her grip on Cybil's shoulder as she pressed the connection deeper.
"I said, 'Who are you?'" she repeated aloud, her voice filled with fury. She dug deeper, pushing her way through Cybil's mind in an effort to find the presence. The presence that didn't belong, that had no business being in Cybil's mind.
"Tell me or I will fry every synapse in her body until I find you."
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He then took to the air, but this time to find something to ram against the gate. A stone, something, and then fly it straight to it.
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"Get out of her head..." she demanded. "Now!"
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He then flew straight at the gate, and bashed against it. And then again.
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"You fool! You have no idea what you've done!" it said, staring down at Lyta with smoldering, red eyes, that were visible from the depths of its hood, before it disappeared completely into thin air.
So close, yet so far away, and he had to hope desperately he hadn't been picked up by the sensors, he didn't even have time to concern himself with the idiot trying to bash open the gate, he had to hope she knew enough now, and that the program would hold them at bay...
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