Help me, please (Mature: contains mentioning of rape, so read with caution) Private CLOSED

The city of Las Vegas was alive around Oren. It's people were doing all sorts of loud and wild things, but all he could hear was the sound of silence. His body was aching from pain, and he could feel blood run down his legs. Oren was still reeling from what those men.....what those men did to him. He couldn't understand why they had attacked him, held him down, forced him to do....to do those things. He had only wanted to hear the music; had only wanted to see who played with such vibrant emotion and pain. He knew he should have been more careful, but the human world was still so new to him. Back him in his community with the other muses, they had treated him poorly, but they never had done.....that to him. He lifted himself off the ground and leaned up against the wall of the alley. His pants were torn and unwearable, leaving him naked from the waste down. He was deeply ashamed of his foolishness at not bringing his violin with him. If he had had it, those men wouldn't have been able to touch him. It only made matters worse that he couldn't even yell for help because of his muteness. Tears started streaming down his face at his stupidity. However, he knew he couldn't get out of this place by himself. He didn't have the strength to move himself. Silently, he sent out a mental wave that would home in and bind him to the nearest person. He hoped to the gods that they were someone who would be willing to help him.

The sound that reached the young weapon's ears resonated with desperation and pain. Bright green eyes searched about; he'd already deeply regretting stepping foot into this city, of all of them, but he'd found his own fair share of abusers to trample down and consume. His regrets, overall, tallied down to zero. With each of his nails slowly beginning to glisten with the brilliant point of his blade, he headed through and down the alleys nearby, quickly locking onto the melody and following it like a coon hound. Blood filled his nostrils, and the wind about his fingertips increased --- bloody hell, where was his Meister? He'd come to the bigger cities looking for the blind sorcerer and had found anything but.

"Hello?" His voice held steady, despite how his better-fed body had been growing and allowing him to mature enough to finally fade into puberty.

Oren felt his wave wash over someone, and he felt them follow the sound that it made. He needed direct vision of the person in order to establish a full bond with them. Finally, he saw a glimpse of someone at the other end of the alley, which was all he needed. He latched out and wrapped both their minds, music filling both of their heads before mentally whispering across the newly formed link, "Please.....help me.....I can't.....can't walk on my own. Men....men used me." Even thinking was hard right now. He had lost a decent amount of blood, and it was starting to hit him.

Riel's entire torso seemed to tighten as his heart sped and stomach turned. A voice in his head wasn't terribly new, and though it was still unsettling, the familiarity of it, in connection to the song, was reason enough not to fight it. Focusing on the wall further down, near the broken boy, Riel shifted, pushing and manipulating the air around him to send him flying. He lodged into the wall, shifting back quickly, kicking off from it to keep his arm from getting stuck. The bag on his back shifted and jangled as he moved, worn, stolen key chains clanging.

Oren didn't have the strength to be surprised by the power that the man just displayed. He knew that other strange creatures existed in the world, so he just assumed he was one of those beings. He could be a brownie for all Oren cared as long as he got help from him. Looking at him, Oren saw that he was tall, but thin, like his body had grown quicker then the rest of him, but his eyes were very pretty. So green, so bright....Oren's mind grew fuzzy. He needed an instrument, preferably his violin. "I'm staying a few....a few streets from here. Can you please help me, Riel? I can't walk on my own right now. It.....it hurts too much." He sent out. The link revealed some things about the boy, which was why Oren knew his name, and it would reveal more as he grew stronger. However, the link was two way, so Riel would learn a few things about him. Namely, he would see what just happened to him.

Riel's teeth ground, his Cheshire grin splitting slightly from the effort. Nodding, he first knelt, digging through his pack and grabbing a pair of two-large pants along with a cloth belt. Kneeling beside him, his senses keened into the world around them, daring the men to come.back, to come within range of his blade. "Do you want to put them on, Oren?"

Oren nodded and grabbed the pants. He didn't know how he would react to Riel helping him, so he pulled them on carefully. Doing that while sitting wasn't easy, but he managed to get them situated. However, he knew he wouldn't be able to get the belt on in the position he was in so he very carefully started to rise, holding onto the wall for support. The pain was still there, and it still made his knees wobble, but he was able to bit his lip and bear it. However, one motion made him stretch his leg further than usual, causing searing pain to shoot down his leg. Oren let out a silent cry before starting to fall back down.

Gangly and about as coordinated as a newborn giraffe, Riel reached out to support the other boy, arms under his to keep him upright. "Easy. Slow." His eyes locked on Oren's before searching the area for others once more. "Are you sure that you're okay to walk...?"

Oren nodded his head and said, "It hurts, but, with your help, I should manage. I'm only a few streets down, I swear. Thank you again for helping me." Oren finally managed to stabilize himself enough to secure the belt. He looked over at his ruined jeans and decided to just leave them there. He really didn't want to look at them anymore. With his arm around Riel's shoulders, and Riel's arm around his waist, Oren started to lead them out of the alley and towards his crummy hotel that he paid for by preforming street music.

Riel didn't speak anymore on the matter, merely walking, his free hand on the verge of a transformation all the while. Questions seemed pointless; why would he ask when he could very easily see the answers in his own mind? A shake of his head followed as he pounded muses. Riel had never been to school, had grown up a butcher's son and been kept under the radar of the education system. He didn't know what a Muse was, what even mythology was. All that Riel knew, really, was relevant to his trade or his existence as a weapon. A dark weapon, he reminded himself, recalling how consuming victim's souls had corrupted his own. Turning back at this point was impossible, yes... But his vigilante brain noted that destroying the attackers and protecting the victims in this world would turn out more than a bit more beneficial, in the long run. That's what Akiyo had taught him. A laugh sounded in his head, senekal and amused in rather poor taste; he would manage to find a mute looking for the blind.

Riel's thoughts flowed over the link and into Oren's mind, showing him what the.....dark weapon was thinking. Oren had no idea why he would call himself such a thing, but some of the images that came with the thoughts showed Oren that he should tread carefully, but his overriding need for help outweighed any other immediate thought, and Riel was still willing to help. The pair managed to avoid most of the stares from the city goers and make it to the dirty hotel. By the time Oren had managed to open the door, he was seeing black spots in his vision. However, Oren's vision zeroed in on his violin case laying on the bed. Disentangling himself from Riel, he stumbled over to it and managed to get the instrument out. Holding the thing was difficult, but, finally,he was able to run the bow across the string, releasing sweet music into the air. The song he played was soft and calming, filling both men up a sense of relaxation. Oren's pain started to melt away as the music washed over his wounds, healing and removing them from his body. The music grew in volume and strength as Oren slowly returned to his full strength. When the music finally died, Oren was standing in front of his bed free on injury.

Riel found himself more than a little disoriented, the fear madness that had been the cause of nearly every one of his reactions soothed and sated. His head tilted slightly, and the look of confusion was astonishing and grotesque on his glasglow grin face. "I didn't think it was quite that literal..." His hands glowed, and his nails, dark, dirty, chipped and poorly kept, returned to normal.

Oren lowered his violin before his legs started to wobble, causing him to fall onto the bed. The song had healed his body, but his energy levels were still in short supply. Using his music was draining, but he felt a thousand times better. "The pain is gone now, but I am still pretty weak. Thank you again for all your help. I wish I could offer you a reward, but I don't really have anything to offer except perhaps an explanation." Oren told Riel through the Bond.

Riel shifted a bit, a "you're bloody mad" comment at the edges of his lips. Damn his low-class accent; it held even in his thoughts. "Why would you reward me?" His head shook, but he didn't move from by the door.

"Well, you helped me, even without much explanation. Even my people reward such diligence. You can see my memories, but those alone cannot help your confusion. I do apologise for the Bond, but, without it, I cannot speak. My voice is mute. That's why I couldn't.....couldn't call out for help before those men had me." Oren said, his mental voice hitching a bit at mentioning the event. He was bound to not let this situation control him, but it was still so raw in his mind right now.

The audible rush of wind and slight green glow surrounding his hand made his anger more apparent than even the obvious grinding of his teeth. His expression was steeled, obvious, fairly well-formed restraint holding back the hurricane of fury building beneath the surface. There was no offer on his lips or in his mind; he'd already resolved to destroy the men at all costs, and crush the souls before adding them to his count. Vaguely, I registered that he should have been keeping track of the numbers.

Oren could tell that Riel was trying to hide his anger, but the rush of emotions that flowed over through the Bond betrayed him. Oren could feel Riel murderous thirst for vengeance; vengeance on the men for their against him, but Oren couldn't let him do that. He may not of understood why they did what they did, but he didn't want to go after them. He just wanted to forget about them. Tenderly, he reached out through the bond, mixing the white of his calm with the black of Riel's rage in an effort to calm him down. This was dangerous territory. He knew that Riel had some very dark qualities, but he could see fierce loyalty and protectiveness in him. "I know you are angry, but hurting them will not help me. I don't want them dead. Please, for me, don't do this." Oren called out, throwing his voice into Riel's mind. If the man would not listen, Oren would have no choice but to let him go. He had not the strength to force him to stay. 6 lives would be on his head, and Oren wasn't sure if he could handle something like that.

It was the guilt that got him, the guilt seeping through their metaphysical pores from Oren to Riel, the guilt that dragged him back into regular reality versus the demented Wonderland of his fantastical mind. The angered haze over his eyes lifted in a groggy instant that showed far more clarity than he seemed capable of. Closing his eyes, he nodded, trying to force the energy from his hands, dissipating it as well as his anger. "If... that's what you wish." There was a begrudging tone to his words, obvious enough, but his words still held the strength needed to prove that he was, in fact, being serious and honest.

Oren could feel the honesty through both the tone of his voice and the Bond. The rush of elation that filled Oren spilled over the bond and into Riel. He was surprised that he was able to stop him. He had seemed so dead set on claiming vengeance for Oren. In some ways, Oren felt honored that Riel was so willing to eliminate those who had caused him so much pain, but he knew better. He knew that their deaths would have caused him even more pain. Such is the sensitivity of a muse. Oren's smile was bright and happy; a complete contradiction of the Oren that Riel has found just minutes ago. He had nothing physical that he could reward Riel with, so he decided to take a leap of faith. He held up his violin and began to play. This time, the song he played was one of calm, but not the healing calm that came from the Aria of Light, but one that promoted peace of mind and body. He figured that in a mind so twisted like Riel's, the man would appreciate a moment of clarity; even more than the clarity that he felt now.

Relaxing his fists, Riel allowed his eyes to flutter closed, his body wavering as the energy it would have taken to transform drifted from his hands, his physical being, to his mental and spiritual realms of existence. Light flickered about his form, wind whirling before settling like a downing breeze. He faltered, wavered, back against the wall and sliding to the floor with a level of control that showed clearly that his every move was deliberate. Mentally, he reached across the lines of the bod, metaphysical hand held out to Oren, offering to pull him in as the darkness on his end seemed to crack and pull apart, like damp wallpaper on shattering plaster, revealing an ever-encompassing light beneath.

Oren saw the hand reach across the bond; a very clear invitation, but Oren was nervous. He had only bonded twice before, and he had never let his consciousness cross the invisible line that tethered him to his bonded partner. However, Riel was a man who had some very real issues, and Oren wanted to help. He always wanted to help. Tentatively, he reached his own "hand" out and grasped Riel's firmly, pulling himself in the shadow of Riel's mind.

It wasn't quite like a bolt of lightening, not quite a shock that ran through their hands, ricocheting off and through every nerve-ending. It was a jolt, like a force rippling across the figments and sinews that were their spirits. Though it grounded them both, it also seemed to be straining against them, catching them at the center of an unseen, but fully felt, hurricane. The splatters of water, warmer than they should have been, struck and lapped at their skin as unseen forces pulled and tugged at their hair and clothing like a wind tunnel.

The changing wasn't quite fading, but neither was it a flickering --- the way Riel's tattered, hand-made clothing seemed to drift to something far more tailored and somehow practical, the way the floor both dropped away and formed beneath them. No, it was something entirely different, unexplainable. Nothing was pristine, nothing cleaned or fully organized, grime staining every inch of in-range vision; beneath them, it seemed as though individual tiles were forever appearing and disappearing, almost flying in and out of reality, yet eternally holding them in place, gripping their feet into the void of the ground through ink-made vines and tentacles. With the floor came an array of buildings, massive monuments of pipe, brass, and delapidating shingles that seemed both in and out of place in their entirety. The sky was golden and yet fogged, faded to brass and copper and scarred across by a black smog infection. Much of the area seemed very monochrome, sticking to the neutrals of the color realms --- browns, blacks, whites, greys --- with shots of brass, copper, and bronze blotting out the depressive tilt as they could. The streams of billowed steam engulfed and humidified the air but also consumed it, bursting out of windpipes and chimneys, the byproducts of a printing press, assembly lines and some unknown, automated system.

The road beneath their feet began to dissolve and flicker, like the visualizations breaking through the static and snow of a television screen, melding from checker tile to uneven stone slabs. Riel's eyes, dancing all the while, had not once left his new-found acquaintance, locked on him and swirling with the sort of genius and reason that teetered on the edges of logic and sanity, madness and genius. The grease and oil in his hair, muck and matted, seemed to fade away, stripped of the poverty evidence and replaced by the well-barbered cut of a proper Englishman. The hat that appeared atop his head was somehow far too typical, a tarnished copper-and bronze alloy, dripping with a liquid that rimmed its edges. A monocle covered his right eye, seeming more complex than was necessary, almost like a one-sided goggle. The chain stretched down beneath his earlobe, clinging to the top of his ear like a cuff. His outfit, somehow, was a strange combination of suit and straight jacket, working in a way that seemed only fitting of this imagined land. Another chain fell from his pocket, seemingly normal, tailored suit pants, but the boots adorning his feet seemed unusual, unpolished and unconditioned leather, strange plating beneath it.

"Welcome to Wonderland," his voice was a bit more formal, the cockney edge softening, an echo forming behind him as though it was projecting beyond the current reality.

Oren's senses were overwhelmed by the landscape around him. His eyes tried in vain to comprehend all of the sights, but reality still blurred. Before his mind could be overtaken, he focused on Riel.....well, the man before him that was Riel. His new outfit made him much more regal, more.....dashing. Oren tried not to think too much on that. Thoughts like that still made him very uncomfortable. "Wonderland it is." Oren said, the words leaving his lips. His entire body froze as he realized what he just accomplished. He.....he could talk here. His mouth hung open from the three words that he had said, still not believing what just happened.

"I....I can speak." He breathed aloud, his voice barely a whisper. Suddenly, a bubbling joy filled his entire body. The only thing that came to his mind from all of this excitement was a song, so he began to sing. The song was something that his friend used to sing when they were growing up. She had been the only one that had treated him like a normal muse when the rest of his people rejected him. The words tumbled from his lips as he began to dance around. He really wished he had his violin to play the music he had wrote to the song.

Suddenly, as if Riel's mind understood his wish, his violin did appear in his hands. His surprise only lasted a second because he began to play the song while singing it. His hips swayed and moved to the rhythm of the violin. He hadn't even thought about the fact that Riel was watching all of this because he was just too happy. All around him, the air began to hum and shimmer with the magic from his music. He could feel pain darken this Wonderland; this place that could be so beautiful. A part of Oren wanted to leave things alone because he knew that this place belonged to Riel, but the larger part of him could not help but try and bring a tiny bit of hope to this place. His song and music seemed to bring the very ground and area they stood in alive. The metallic colors seemed to brighten, as if they final received the polishing that they wanted.

Beneath his hand, a cane began to form, carved firewood marked and painted akin to roses and thorns, supporting his weight as his eyes trailed along after the older man. Curiously sparked in him, dancing along the edges of his vision as the trail dusted, the brass received its first beginnings of a decent cleaning. He took a breath of the air and it chilled him, the usual cough that would follow alluding him entirely. Blinking followed, unnecessary but rapid and clearly confused. The wood beneath his fingertips began to tap against the cobblestone beneath their feet, keeping in strange time to the music. Still, he kept himself rooted in place, saying nothing, moving not, merely watching with curious, observant, and yet distanced eyes.

Oren's song continued for a few more minutes before his music and voice began to fade out as he finished. However, the beauty that his song had created remained, brightening their little corner of the world. The violin remained, more than likely because he felt more comfortable with it in his hands. He finally faced Riel again with a slight smile and a blush coloring his cheeks. He felt a little awkward at what just happened, but he could feel the awe and even happiness that came through the Bond. There was a slight ting of panic in his emotions, which was something Oren was uncomfortable about. He didn't want him to be scared about what just happened. "I'm....I'm sorry. I don't really know what came over me. I was just....just so happy...." Oren said.