Post by mordekai on Feb 2, 2009 1:33:56 GMT -5
Red, red, red eddying down the drain.
The water was so cold it caused little goose pimples to rise from pale skin, adding texture to what could easily be mistaken for living porcelain. Cold enough to make the Mink shiver, once.
At least this time she managed to make it out of there without tearing a sleeve or making a mess of her pinstripe suit, it was hard enough having to go through that many shirts and gloves in the few jobs she had taken on. La Mort prided herself in keeping everything clean, neat and tidy. Not a single scrap of evidence left behind for the roaches to find, not even the breeze would carry a hint of the 'activities' that had taken place.
It was how she wanted it.
Finally looking up from hands clean of gore, Morty found herself seeing her own reflection in the grimy mirror, slightly distorted from the cheap, warped glass. Usually she didn't like to look, something about gazing into her own eyes that unnerved her a little. Made the muscles behind her ear twitch. So she decided to distract herself, at least just for a while.
Cleaning the basin free of any remaining human bits, the drain is plugged and the water left to collect within. It was adjusted, warmer in temperature now and not so biting, having tested it with her elbow a few times until she was satisfied. Then she reaches for a can of shaving cream and sprays the soft foam across her chin and around her jaw-line.
There is no hair to remove, no outstanding facial-carpet to clear, but this was a ritual the Mink indulged in after particularly gruesome hits. The scent of the cream comforted her like the smell of freshly washed bed-sheets, the blade a cool caress on her skin as she swiped it slowly along the contours of her face.
Some people did Tai Chi.
Some people did Yoga.
Mordekai shaved her face.
There was just something so utterly therapeutic about the act itself, how well she could control the blade... Ah yes, control. It's what had been denied her for five years, from simple privacy to comforts of companionship. It was up to her how fast or slow the blade would move, how deep she wanted to press it into her already smooth skin, make herself bleed if she so desired... Simply because she could.
Free to do what she wanted.
How she wanted.
The nightmares were still ever present.
It would take time to be free of them, or the fact that she still needed the security of both her dolly and straitjacket to keep her from finally rolling off the edge. But she'll deal for now, let it run its course like poison being purged from her veins. A slow and painful process.
"Here now."
She whispered, trying to remind herself that she was safely at home and now within the confines of that awful place. The murky water in the basin was cleared, and the tap was turned on again for her to wash away the last streaks of foam from her face, leaving it just as it was before.
Clean.
Standing there with both hands clasping the sides of the sink, Mordekai lets her head hang between slightly hunched shoulders, the water droplets running down the sides of her face. Dripping like tears down the drain and the Mink found herself watching their slow progression. Each drop merging with another, and another until the weight of it pulled it straight into the black.
She would not allow that to happen to her.
Not anymore...
She was in control.
"It's done."
And he ,of all people, would know what she was talking about.
The water was so cold it caused little goose pimples to rise from pale skin, adding texture to what could easily be mistaken for living porcelain. Cold enough to make the Mink shiver, once.
At least this time she managed to make it out of there without tearing a sleeve or making a mess of her pinstripe suit, it was hard enough having to go through that many shirts and gloves in the few jobs she had taken on. La Mort prided herself in keeping everything clean, neat and tidy. Not a single scrap of evidence left behind for the roaches to find, not even the breeze would carry a hint of the 'activities' that had taken place.
It was how she wanted it.
Finally looking up from hands clean of gore, Morty found herself seeing her own reflection in the grimy mirror, slightly distorted from the cheap, warped glass. Usually she didn't like to look, something about gazing into her own eyes that unnerved her a little. Made the muscles behind her ear twitch. So she decided to distract herself, at least just for a while.
Cleaning the basin free of any remaining human bits, the drain is plugged and the water left to collect within. It was adjusted, warmer in temperature now and not so biting, having tested it with her elbow a few times until she was satisfied. Then she reaches for a can of shaving cream and sprays the soft foam across her chin and around her jaw-line.
There is no hair to remove, no outstanding facial-carpet to clear, but this was a ritual the Mink indulged in after particularly gruesome hits. The scent of the cream comforted her like the smell of freshly washed bed-sheets, the blade a cool caress on her skin as she swiped it slowly along the contours of her face.
Some people did Tai Chi.
Some people did Yoga.
Mordekai shaved her face.
There was just something so utterly therapeutic about the act itself, how well she could control the blade... Ah yes, control. It's what had been denied her for five years, from simple privacy to comforts of companionship. It was up to her how fast or slow the blade would move, how deep she wanted to press it into her already smooth skin, make herself bleed if she so desired... Simply because she could.
Free to do what she wanted.
How she wanted.
The nightmares were still ever present.
It would take time to be free of them, or the fact that she still needed the security of both her dolly and straitjacket to keep her from finally rolling off the edge. But she'll deal for now, let it run its course like poison being purged from her veins. A slow and painful process.
"Here now."
She whispered, trying to remind herself that she was safely at home and now within the confines of that awful place. The murky water in the basin was cleared, and the tap was turned on again for her to wash away the last streaks of foam from her face, leaving it just as it was before.
Clean.
Standing there with both hands clasping the sides of the sink, Mordekai lets her head hang between slightly hunched shoulders, the water droplets running down the sides of her face. Dripping like tears down the drain and the Mink found herself watching their slow progression. Each drop merging with another, and another until the weight of it pulled it straight into the black.
She would not allow that to happen to her.
Not anymore...
She was in control.
"It's done."
And he ,of all people, would know what she was talking about.