creatingalegacy | } 024 - [TEXT] - Private to Adam (fake-warden creeper Adam, not Adam Monroe)

} 024 - [TEXT] - Private to Adam (fake-warden creeper Adam, not Adam Monroe)

We need to talk. Face-to face.

Now.

[Adam just smiles and takes a step forward of his own, closing the distance between them.]

I'll do whatever you want, Amanda. But before I do, maybe you could answer a question for me.

[She cocks her head up at him.]

And what would that be?

[He puts a hand to her shoulder and his smile vanishes. Her memory opens for him and it's simplicity itself to find what's most vivid, most treasured - to obscure everything except the knowledge that it's gone.]

What do you remember about John?

[She shrugs his hand off her shoulder and glares at him, as if to say why do you care?]

He was my father. I remember--

[And she goes silent, absolutely horrified, as it hits her: she can't remember his appearance, or the sound of his voice. She remembers pressing her face to his cheek as he suffered in his bed, but the memory of his smell is likewise missing. All the blood drains from her face, leaving her pale as a corpse.]

You--!

[She lashes out, grabbing his collar to yank his face down to the level of hers. Naked terror dominates her expression.]

WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?!

[He grabs her wrists, his expression cold and hard.]

Right now, Amanda? I am doing you the kindness of even remembering he exists. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, if you even think about crossing me, I will destroy you. I will eviscerate your memory. You will never have met him. You will be the worthless, meaningless pile of human trash you were before he found you.

[She's completely terrified out of her mind now.]

Give them back! They're MINE! I won't say anything, I swear to fuckin' god, just GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!

[He cups her face in his hands. Slowly, the memory of her cheek against John's begins to crumble and blur.]

You swear, Amanda?

Edited 2011-04-29 00:27 (UTC)

No! Leave me that one, please, oh god please don't take it away!

[She can feel it vanishing and bursts into frightened, desperate tears.]

I swear on my fuckin' life, so give him back to me! ALL of him!

[She feels herself growing dizzy with sheer terror over what he could do to make this worse, and her knees buckle. She has to grab his wrists to stay upright.]

Please...!

Edited 2011-04-29 09:10 (UTC)

[He lets the next few seconds stretch out, revelling in the rush of power, the kick he gets from knowing how swiftly and how utterly he can reduce a woman of such alleged strength to a frightened mess. He thinks about just doing it anyway - slicing away her memories, leaving her too helpless to utter a word against him - but it's more fun this way. It leaves him stronger.

He kisses her forehead fleetingly and lets the memories rush back in.]

[The return of memories causes her entire being to flood with relief, and she falls to her knees, body drawing in on itself as she weeps freely. She's far too traumatized to feel shame.]

Oh god, John...

[She still doesn't know who Jill Tuck is, and at this point doesn't dare ask. She can't risk losing anything of John again.]

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} 024 - [TEXT] - Private to Adam (fake-warden creeper Adam, not Adam Monroe)

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