[completed - under editing]
[last chapter edited - 8 | setting a trap for yourself]
"You're told all your life that you're broken, insane, mentally ill. And then you're told that you are going to repair the world."
᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽
Thirteen...
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Scorpio
I finally open my eyes when my door opens. I've been refusing to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. But at least I want to know what's going on. Imagine my surprise when I see Nia, grinning slightly and very alive. She grips a key in her left hand. "Hey hey there, evil Darktale. Let's bounce. Hurry up or I'm leaving you behind, I don't really care."
"Well," I say dryly, "How could I decline that polite invitation?" I slowly force myself into a sitting position and then drag myself to my feet, sloping over to the door and eyeing the key she holds like a weapon.
Nia smiles winningly and steps away from the doorway. "You can't possibly." As I exit my empty cell, I glance back at the two beds. I guess I'm lucky I don't have a roommate. Or perhaps they're lucky. She pushes me down the hallway, where there's a loose grouping of the rest of us by the door to what I'll hazard a guess to be the cab. And the conversation going on there isn't one I'd expect.
"All of them were Corrupted, are you sure?" echoes Pisces, eyes wide. I quietly call that look his gullible face, and he doesn't love that nickname.
Since when did I have to do as Aquaria's acquaintance asked? Never.
Aviva releases a humorless laugh, "Oh yes. I'm very sure. Not everything's easy to hide, you know. Did you know that Corrupted have markings like the rest of us? That we have markings —" she raises her hand and points to the black crescent decorating her left wrist "— in order to label us as different types of property. Corrupted have them too, a small vine coiling around their upper arm, usually their right. They sometimes tattoo little add–ons to those vines. Or they did. So —"
"Hold on. Just one second —" Vienna takes in a deep breath and pinches her nose elegantly. My gaze flickers to Sagittaria, who tries desperately to hide her snort and succeeds, but fails to contain the wide smirk spreading across her lips. If I wasn't so good at concealing my emotions, I'd smirk like her; Vienna's being remarkably dramatic from one who reprimands Leo for being a dramatist. Even still, I feel tempted. Then again, Vienna's wrath isn't very much worth it.
"Okay." Vienna removes her fingers from her nose and exhales deeply. Sagittaria looks grateful that her smirk has slipped away as Vienna glances briefly at her. "You're saying that the different species have different markings to mark them as chattel. Different kinds of chattel. Am I hearing this correctly — never mind. I'm sure I am. I'm wondering though, what about non–pure? Their marks are more faded." She pulls her sweater away from her right shoulder, exposing the greenish faded mark on her shoulder, in the shape of a simple leaf. When she tips her head to the side, there is a faded silver semicircle on the left side of the base of her neck, the flat edge seems to be jagged. "So it'd be easier to paint over these marks. And you could, I don't know, paint a vine."
"They had technology that would detect faked marks and current marks. And inter–species breeding was strictly banned. Offspring of these unions would be summarily executed. And if they were significantly unstable — say, harpy–angel kids. Or really any pure Ethereal–Celestial kid, the unlucky result would be spirited off to a laboratory." Aviva shrugs, still speaking in a distant, clipped voice. Not unlike the tone Vienna prefers.
