Work Text:
Martyn was half asleep when strange but not unfamiliar whispers in his ears had him bolting awake. His listener abilities were peaking, and he could hear the murmured chanting of some of his worse fears coming closer and closer.
That was all the warning he got before his vision was completely taken, and he couldn’t see anything anymore. That confirmed what was going on, and Martyn practically launched himself out of the chair he’d been slouched in. Wind rushed around his ears, and he did his best to listen to the sounds around him.
The smell of sulphur filled the air, and Martyn could tell the watchers were casting – but he needed to get away. Without his vision, even as a listener, he would be absolutely destroyed in a fight. He didn’t even have a weapon on him that he could use to his advantage.
He tried to grab his communicator, opening it up and trying to text, which quickly proved impossible without sight. He couldn’t even see if his device was unlocked, but that didn’t matter. The watchers surrounding him noticed his strategy and pulled the device from him.
Martyn heard a smash as it must have landed on a wall behind him, completely shattered and unusable.
Without hesitating, Martyn threw himself towards where he thought the door was. However, before he made it there, his foot caught on something silky laying across the floor, and Martyn fell face first.
Shit – he hadn’t just fallen on a watchers robe, had he?
With one major blunder already made, Martyn wasn’t surprised when he failed to also get up. Unfortunately, his mistake had meant that the watchers taking him had the chance of getting his wrists together. He felt magic clamp over him, and his listener abilities disappeared.
His vision had been taken, and now his hearing had decreased to normal. This was far from a winning fight, but Martyn couldn’t let the watchers take him. Why did they want him anyway?
As far as he was aware, the watchers didn’t know of his heritage, but he wasn’t taking chances. Why would the watchers be coming after him otherwise? He had already won his games, and they were long over.
H̷̛̹̀û̵̪͊͝r̵̡̘̋ŕ̴̙̙̓̏ỵ̵͐ ̶̮̔̿͠u̸͚̾̚p̴̪̜̃!” One of the watchers hissed and Martyn tried to knee whoever was holding him. He was very unsuccessful and only unbalanced himself. He could feel his captors grabbing him tighter, and something was forcefully shoved in his mouth.
Magic began spinning around him, searing into the blackness he was seeing. Runes moving o fast for him to comprehend seemed to worm their way into his brain, and he felt it trying to knock him unconscious. He tried to hold out, unsuccessfully, and agony shot down his spine. He kept struggling however, refusing to go down easily.
If Martyn could have screamed he would have, though he couldn’t through the cloth in his mouth. Hi head lit up like it had been shot. A shooting headache shot through him, and he suddenly went death.
Oh Mars, he couldn’t hear. That was such an important part of his heritage. He was a listener, his whole thing was to listen. What was he supposed to do without his ears?
Martyn couldn’t struggle any longer, and while he felt himself being teleported, there was nothing he could do.
He was completely deprived of both his sight and his hearing, and his was utterly alone. No one even knew he had been taken.