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 Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2014 10:47 am
Kids After being swallowed by the giant machine at the Research Facility, you found yourself being shot through various dark pipes, to be ejected and spat out in a large cage. Imperial Drones were clearly visible through the bars, loading another cage full of stunned rebels into the back of a huge transportation vehicle. Ignoring any protests, they waited until your cage filled up with other young trolls, as another beside filled with older trolls. Through the commotion and movement, you thought you saw your lusus, being lead off in chains. Eventually loaded up into the vehicle, you are now being taken somewhere, from the feel of the engine and the bump as it travels over the ground. Around you are all the other young children who were unable to escape. You have been travelling for quite some time, and are not sure when, or where, you will arrive. Teens After being swallowed by the giant machine at the Research Facility, you found yourself being shot through various dark pipes, to be ejected and spat out in a large cage. Imperial Drones were clearly visible through the bars, loading another cage full of stunned rebels into the back of a huge transportation vehicle. Ignoring any protests, they waited until your cage filled up with other trolls, as another beside filled with the younger children. Through the commotion and movement, you thought you saw various lusus, being lead off in chains. Eventually loaded up into the vehicle, you are now being taken somewhere, from the feel of the engine and the bump as it travels over the ground. Around you are all the other teens who were unable to escape. You have been travelling for quite some time, and are not sure when, or where, you will arrive. Byakko After being swallowed by the giant machine at the Research Facility, you found yourself being shot through various dark pipes, to be ejected and spat out in a large cage, all on your own. From around the corner of the building, outside your cage, you could hear voices and movement, possibly even the sounds of your friends, but you couldn't see them. Loaded into a transportation vehicle empty save yourself and five imperial drones, you are now being taken somewhere, from the feel of the engine and the bump as it travels over the ground. You have been travelling for quite some time, and are not sure when, or where, you will arrive.
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Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2015 8:52 pm
Forera only woke up when the cage was moving into the transportation vehicle.
With a groggy groan, Forera sat up, clutching at her head in pain as a searing headache shot through her skull. She opened her eyes a little, seeing... other trolls there. Wait, what? Teens, just like her, trapped in a small metal box. No way... Was what she feared true? Eyes snapping open, Forera looked around worriedly, feeling sudden stress overtake her. Where was Vulpin?! ANGUIS?! She had a small panic attack-- usually she wouldn't worry about such things, but this... This was some thing serious. She had dragged them into this...
This is all my fault.
They could be culled, and it was all her fault. For dragging them there, for following Lunear... She shouldn't have come... With clenched teeth, Forera looked around at her fellow rebel teens, most of which whom were still passed out, searching for some way to find an ally. She was going to grit her teeth and bear this. There'd be a way out. She was sure of it-- there was always a way out. Forera looked around the box, searching for something-- anything. She wasn't going to give up just yet.
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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 5:58 pm
Vulpin sat solemnly in his cage, staring at his feet. He wished was angry, that he felt a little bit of energy about anything that happened. Maybe angry at the rebels for their stupidity, or the royalists for their egregious show of force? No, he didn't feel anything like that. He felt defeated.
He fiddled with his thumbs, analyzing his hands. The orangeblood crinkled his nose but shed no tears. He thought he was so prepared, he thought he knew everything. With Sly, he could do anything, even hunt the fiercest of creatures. But here, among trolls, he had made the simplest mistakes and nearly killed his lusus. He had disappointed him, and now he looked foolish.
Vulpin idly thought of the future ahead of him. Certainly they were going to torture or cull him. He secretly hoped it was the latter, it would be easier on him. His emotional bruises were enough torture on their own, and he didn't need anyone rubbing salt in his wounds.
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 1:09 am
After a rough trip through the pipes, Zeffer had been knocked unconscious, slammed into the bottom of the cage with a dull thud. The blueblood had remained in his inert state until the revving of the engines and the vibrations of the drive began to rouse him, and his eyes flickered open for a moment, his vision still swimming and hazy, caked over with drying blood. That went for most of the rest of him as well; he was just a mass of wounds, blood, and hurt. He sighed softly, and opted to remain down, blinking in order to clear his vision.
"Aprife. Akko." He grumbled, trying to lift his voice enough to be heard. He couldn't quite figure out what was happening, why the ground was moving, and most importantly, why he wasn't dead yet. As his vision cleared, he realized he could see shoes, and ankles. Were they still in the room? A flare of hopefulness came, and he wondered for a moment if Akko and the others had managed to beat the cube after all...but where was she, then? He tried to look around, to find her goofy wooden sandals, but it was still difficult to move. Sucking in a deep breath, he resolved to lay still for a moment longer, and try to gather his strength.
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Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2015 9:55 am
At some point, Aprife had curled up, in on himself protectively. It left his forehead pressed to the floor and one horn awkwardly angled, balancing the weight of his head against the unforgiving surface. It was no surprise that when he finally jolted awake, he had an awful, awful headache.
Pain shot through his head and down to his tailbone, sending tingles along his limbs as his body struggled to wake up with his mind. Thoughts raced around his thinkpan, visions of what had happened, worry and doubt and confusion. The last of their time spent in that room with that unholy weapon had become a blur of black and grey and Aprife couldn’t quite remember how it ended or where he’d found himself now, surprisingly alive, but undoubtedly more injured than last he recalled. For a long, stretched out moment he didn’t want to move, but then something riled him a second time from his haze.
A name, his name, and a voice that was startlingly familiar, even though he had barely caught it. ”Zeffer," he choked, forcing his weary body to uncoil from itself a little too fast, landing him sharply on his elbows when he tried to get up. He grunted and half-coughed, eyes immediately scanning for the face to match the voice. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, but something scooted through his line of vision and was gone again; his eyes followed, who was it, what were they doing, were they looking for something? No, it didn’t matter, not right now. That blue just wasn’t the right shade, that figure not the right shape. He had to find Zeffer.
Finally pushing himself up to his knees, Aprife let out a wheezed breath he’d been holding without realizing. There were others here too and they were all well and trapped by the looks of things, but the yellowblood forgot that worry long enough to locate his comrade still laid out on the floor of their tiny, shuddering prison. "Zeffer..." he hissed in relief, crawling over and placing a firm hand against him, enough to make his presence known. "Hey, Zeffer, I’m here," he looked around again as he spoke, voice low and a little raspy.
He’d found Zeffer, and man he looked like s**t, but so did Aprife and who really cared so long as he was alive, even if he had no idea how long they’d stay that way now that they’d been captured. There was a trickle of yellow from his lip to join what already marred his skin where he worried it subconsciously. Akko wasn’t here, at least he didn’t see her after a few more glances. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what had happened to himself, whether Akko had been taken by the machine or had escaped or... worse... he didn’t know. Once again he cursed himself for his lack knowledge. What good was he if he never knew anything important?
"I'm here, there are others, but I don’t see Akko..." He had no clue yet if Zeffer could even hear him or comprehend, he was talking to talk, because the discomfort was starting to sink in all over again.
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Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2015 6:16 pm
The sound of Aprife's voice made the blueblood's body jerk, and he tried to wrench his head up. Gritting his teeth, he cursed his weakness, cursed the fact that he'd gone at it just a bit too hard. Panic and anger had prevented him from pacing himself, and now he was going to suffer for it. Inhaling sharply, he finally forced himself to a sitting position, growling at several nearby strangers as they shuffled away from his horns. It took a moment for him to focus, to try to see where his friend's voice was coming from, and nearly cracked a grin as his yellowblooded companion snaked up to him. Immediately he reached up to lock arms with him, shaking Aprife weakly by the shoulder.
"Aprife. Thank ********, you're alive." His voice was raspy as well, from all the screaming they'd done, but inundated with relief. Now that he was upright, he could finally get a better look at their surroundings...and he didn't like what he saw. A ******** cage, of all things. "So, I'm assuming you guys didn't blow up that cube thing." It was the best attempt he could make toward humor, and the only thought he could think to keep the panic at bay. He couldn't even remember being put in a cage, and now they were on their way to someplace, and he could feel his heart rate beginning to increase. They were trapped, like the dirty rats that they were, and there was probably nothing to be done about it. The only reason he could think of why they hadn't been culled yet, was that they were going to be tortured first.
Just as Aprife mentioned their missing teammate, panic struck the blueblood like a lightning bolt. "Akko...Are you sure!!? She's got to be in here, somewhere..." Zeffer's tone took on an edge of panic, and in moments he knew his hopeful words were worthless. She would have been huddled there together with them, if she had been in the cage as well. His blood was running cold, and his lips curled up, teeth bared. They were going to kill her, probably, slaughter her like the animal they no doubt believed her to be. As his heart began to pound, he slammed a bloody fist against the metal floor of the cage, and sobbed dryly, trying to bite back his anger. "We have to get out of here. They're gonna kill her..."
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2015 10:19 pm
He thought he was dead, in fact, he was pretty sure, for a great long while he was dead and all this was just a joke and he was watching them mess with his dead body which his spirit had yet to escape to go do.. whatever it was ghosts did and stuff. Maybe haunt someone. He'd haunt everyone, as why not, they probably all deserved it, (except for the few he approved of). Yet as time passed it became apparent that no, he wasn't dead, (the pain helped affirm that point), and yes, he'd been captured. Batbro was.. who knew where, and after a short stint of being all by himself in a cage, soon enough, he was joined by others. Silent for a long while, he just sat up and minded his own business until after a while and everyone just- "AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." He groaned at them all. Why were they being so annoying? They were captives and probably going to be culled or publicly hunted for sport. Just accept it and get over it death would come soon enough or maybe not you never really knew. "Hey." He looked at those who'd been.. with him until his magnificent downfall in battle. "If it makes either of you feel any better we'll probably not be subjugated to too much torture or public ridicule, given how we lack a lot of intelligence of rebel operations." He doubted it would help them but hey, he was trying.
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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 5:22 pm
The bouncing vehicles eventually draw to a standstill and the back door is thrown open, letting in harsh glaring electrical light. You are each roughly pulled from your cages. Restraint devices are clapped on your arms and legs, and you are chained in a long line, with a guard drone at the front and back. They signal it is time to move forward by jerking the end of the chain roughly, pulling you forward. You are lead towards a large, squat building, built into the cold mountainside, and as you recognize the area as somewhere in Busthind's mountainous regions, are jerked indoors. A huge central chamber leads off down dozens of paths, with faint cries and shouts echoing up from the darkness. As you are lead down one hallway, you can see the carving in the wall overhead. Eventually, you arrive at a small booth blocking the passage ahead. Progress comes to a stop as each troll is dragged into the booth one at a time. Quote: As you stand in line, waiting to be dragged forwards on your chains into the booth, a heavy hand falls on your shoulder. Another reaches down and un-links your restraint devices from the chain that holds you in line, and pulls you aside. "Come." Lead down another corridor, you find yourself in a small room, with two chairs and a desk. You are gestured to sit down, and a small thin drone in pince-nez glasses steps in, holding an overflowing binder. "Ah. Yes. Yes. Prisoner, we have records of you recently taking mental evaluations at one of our rehabilitation centres. As a member of our counselling services, I have been sent here today to act as an intermediary. You have reached out to us in the past, and now we will, ahem, reach out to you. Perhaps you can explain to us how you were pressured into joining with a known terrorist organization? Were you threatened? Cajoled? I will do my best to present a case for you, and hopefully get you released, with only minor charges." Sitting down across from you, she drops the heavy bundle of paper on the desk and begins to spread it out, taking up a pen and peering at you over her glasses, waiting for a reply. Please quote the mule in your reply.For all other trolls: Eventually you move to the front of the line and are hustled into the small dark space. Inside, your left arm is grabbed by a drone and raised up, and a cruel looking device is stamped down on the inside of your wrist. There is a brief flare of pain then it is pulled away, leaving a fresh tattoo swelling in it's place. Beside it, a small drop of your blood blossoms where a close-range tracking device has been injected. You are now a branded criminal, and as you stare down at it, you are yanked forward again, out into the light of the corridor ahead. Attached to a new line, you are pulled forward again and through another door. And into the pits.  A long winding path circles around the dark hole in the middle of the room, with other floors visible below, stretching down into the dark. The walls along the side of the pit hold square stone rooms with no front wall, instead having bars set into the floor and ceiling, showing the slumped residents within. They all have narrow barred windows and the cold wind from Busthind seeps in, making your breath visible. You are bustled into a cell with the rest of the trolls your age, while the others are shoved into the cell directly beside you, so while you cannot see them, you can hear them clearly. With a nod, the guards leading you depart, leaving only the sentries that slowly walk around the path, their clank and stomp echoing rhythmically around the room. You might only rest in your cell for a short time, so you might want to make sure you have said all you need to by the 13th!
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:24 am
The rest of the ride in their cage allowed Zeffer to recuperate, if only slightly. He was more awake when the vehicles pulled to a halt, and even though pain still wracked his body, he was still alive. He'd suffered through worse injuries than the ones he had now, he tried to tell himself, and bristled when the cage doors were thrown open. The adrenaline had already begun to flow anew through his system, and the sight of drones had him gearing up for a fight...but when he reached down for his batons, there was nothing there. Of course they would be gone; even if he had managed to hold onto them somehow, there was no way they were going to let a prisoner hold onto his weapons. Instantly he began to shove Aprife toward the back, teeth bared, his eyes shining wildly. He could hear the jingling of the chains, and he wasn't keen on going down easily. When the drones reached into the back of the cage for the last few stragglers, he struck out at them, only to be struck in return, and yanked out forcefully. It enraged the blueblood, to feel so helpless. He thrashed furiously for a few glorious seconds, and almost, almost managed to tear himself away, until a rough punch to the head sent him reeling. The drones took the opportunity to slap his cuffs on, before he could cause any further trouble.
"Who knew they did this kinda s**t. Why aren't we dead yet? They trying to humiliate us?" Zeffer muttered darkly to himself, still seeing stars, and talking to no one in particular. A quick glance back told him that Aprife was still there, thank goodness, and it was then that he remembered to take a look around again. Had they really taken Legs to a different place? Had she died in the room, or was she being tortured somewhere? Not knowing made him snarl in frustration, and he jerked back on the chain when it was pulled, causing several trolls ahead of him to look back and make nasty comments.
After leaning every which way to attempt to see further ahead in the line, and doing the same thing looking back, Zeffer was finally convinced that Byakko was nowhere to be found, and it made his bloodpusher ache. He supposed their battle together would be his last memory of her, not that they would have many more memories at all...perhaps she was better off now, if she really had been killed. Who knew what sort of horrible fate awaited the ones who had survived. The blueblood gave a low growl as their next stop loomed up before them, a doorway that lead into a suspiciously small room. They had certainly found a way to build the suspense nicely, because as each troll was reeled in, a scream sounded out and echoed through the facility, warning those further down the line of what was to come. Zeffer tried to brace against the chain, but he was no match for the strength of the drones...
Much too quickly, he was being yanked into the dark. A string of garbled curses erupted from his lips, and before he knew it something had a hold of him. The pain came quickly in a bright flash, and his protesting culminated into a high, angry shriek, before he was smacked again, and shoved back into the light. With his hand clutched to his chest, he wobbled in silence the rest of the way, waiting for the hurt to subside to a manageable level, which it did after a minute, allowing him to see what had happened. A tattoo??
The inspection of his new marking ended briefly when they reached the pits, and his jaw fell open as he got a glimpse down into the dark, an instinctual shudder slipping down his spine. Everything was so horrifically confusing, and his brain couldn't fathom what was going on. He had expected death, perhaps even welcomed it, especially if they were to be squirreled away in some drafty prison and left to rot. He gave one last parting growl as the drones shoved them into a cell before shuffling off, before turning to his companion. At least he'd managed to stick close to the only friend he had left.
"You okay?" Zeffer's voice was as gravelly as before, and his expression looked lost, and distant. He knew they weren't, but it was all he could think to say, for a moment. He had avoided talking to Aprife before with the paranoid fear of being purposely placed in different cells. After a cursory glance around their cell, he motioned for the yellowblood to follow him to a corner, knowing they would need to discuss their next move.
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Posted: Fri Jan 09, 2015 11:18 pm
[ Didero has miscalculated. No, more like he avoided calculating completely. A blind idiot would have been able to gather that something was amiss. Didero, however? He didn’t get the picture until way after he woke up and realized the cold, damp surroundings weren’t going to disappear with his nightmares. Every hazy change in scenery was revealed to be darker and colder than the last as the drugs wore off from Didero’s mind.
He’d been so adamant about not seeing the danger surrounding him at every turn. This wasn’t even the first perilous situation he’d been in. Every time something had gone right and not resulted in his untimely demise, Didero had taken it to mean that everything was fine. Everything would be fine. He was special.
Yeah. His claim to fame was to be one of the first rebel agents (Didero tasted bile at the word “rebel”) to pass out at the smell of knockout gas.
Hatoful Dad had been in a state of nervous panic the entire time. Hell, he’d been on edge since their trip to the Root—since their adventure in the desert. Didero had just assumed his lusus was always uptight. In fact, Didero was just always stupid.
Wait, Dad!? Didero grunted and struggled to sit up in the back of the jostling transport vehicle. His throat felt thick and dry from lack of use (relative to the screaming he vaguely remembered back at the research facility). Didero had messed up and now his dad was gone. He’d likely been corralled with the other lusii, but Didero couldn’t help imagining that Hatoful Dad had simply gotten fed up and left. Didero sobbed. He deserved it.
Didero cried, curled up in his little corner of the truck. He may have been a fool, but he wasn’t a rebel—not really. He was just having fun. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen. He didn’t know what the WACKY was for or why anyone wanted it. He just wanted to be in on the adventure and not some faceless bystander. He’d wanted all of the rewards with none of the risks. Didero couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to be so blindsided by his own mad grab for notoriety.
Notoriety. From the root notorium—meaning indictment. Didero felt a cold drop in his stomach as he realized the gravity of the situation. This was what it meant to even be associated with the rebels. At the end of the night, Didero as an individual didn’t matter. He was a symbol of the rebellion. While Didero wasn’t dangerous, the rebellion was.
That seemed to be the core of the matter. Playing rebels wasn’t a fun game, it was a threat. The empire found the rebels threatening. Didero took what little pleasure he could from the revelation. He couldn’t say he was feeling very benevolent towards his (fellow) rebels, though. They’d all been foolhardy enough to end up in this predicament with or without Didero’s involvement. A dark part of him felt a sense of satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one captured. It was only fair. If Didero deserved this punishment, then so did everyone else.
Eventually the convoy slowed to a stop and the prisoners were lead off in chains. Didero used his shoulders to bury his face into his scarf—his lone comfort. The air was cold and thin and the land surrounding them was barren and jagged. It was an appropriate atmosphere for the situation, Didero noted blandly as he was tugged into the nearby building.
Didero tried to quell the terror rising within him as the trolls gathered within the hall. Shuffling and whimpering aside, it was eerily quiet for how many bodies were present. Trolls were sorted out of the crowd.
Didero’s turn came before he realized it. He’d barely registered the hand on his arm before he was hit with the pain of the stamp. Didero’s yelps of pain were lost on the drones and he was pulled further into the prison, clutching his arm.
It wasn’t until the drones had left and Didero was settled in his cell with the other children that he pulled his arm away to survey the damage.
It was a tattoo, fresh and tender. Didero prodded at it gently, then swept a finger over the mark. He began to rub viciously at the blight, pain be damned. He was hyperventilating and crying, but the tattoo wouldn’t go away. It didn’t even smudge. Didero held his raw wrist away from him in horror. He staggered backwards until he hit the wall of the cell. This was real. This wasn’t fiction. He couldn’t put it down, he couldn’t rewrite it, and he couldn’t skip ahead to see what would happen next. Didero, even at his most stupid and optimistic, had no idea what was going to happen next.
Didero slid down to the ground. ]
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2015 1:02 am
Vulpin kept to himself as the drones dragged him along. He saw his teammates and some other familiar faces as he trudged along, but didn’t even pick up his head to acknowledge them. So what if it was the last time he might see them? Vulpin didn’t have anything important enough to say to them, and he doubted they had anything to say to him.
He passed under the sign and gazed up at it momentarily, thoroughly unimpressed by it. He could care less about their propaganda. It was all propaganda, on both sides. One was hopeful, the other threatening. And in Vulpin’s head they both sounded exactly the same. Fake. It was all just fake.
When the drones separated him from the rest of the group, Vulpin honestly felt surprised. What did they want, and from him specifically? He sat in his little designated seat and listened carefully to the drone. Vulpin stared up intensely at her as she spoke. He wasn’t trying to threaten her with his gaze. No— that would have been an unintelligent move on his behalf. Instead, he watched her with careful thought. Gears were grinding in his head now, processing the full scope of her words.
He was being offered a chance at freedom. An easy way out. A chance to be free and never return to either side of this petty, dumb war. He could return home with Sly and sleep peacefully in his recuperacoon while the others were being tortured.
Although he wanted to, he didn’t dare smile at the opportunity. He was careful to keep his face neutral and unsuspecting. But under the surface, he wanted to breathe a huge sigh of relief. He had a get-out-of-jail free card. All for signing a few silly pieces of paper and pretending to listen to some hoity-toity “doctors”. It was amusing. It almost felt like a joke.
But he couldn’t get ahead of himself. He learned his lesson the last time. Getting cocky wasn’t going to help him out of this situation. He had to remain calm and collected, and play all of his cards right, to boot. The drone asked him for a scapegoat. Of course, she hadn’t used those words exactly, but Vulpin read through it. They weren’t interested in a little kid like him. No, they were looking for the higher power at play. They knew he couldn’t have joined on his own. The rebels weren’t an operation that operated in the open like that. Open recruiting for an underground organization to uproot the government? That’d be laughable.
Laughter aside, Vulpin had to decide on a scapegoat, and fast. Forera wasn’t an option. It was almost certain that they had pulled her aside as well, and although he argued with her, he wasn’t going to destroy her chance at freedom either. She could ruin her own chances for all he cared, but her blood wasn’t going to be on his hands.
There was Lune, of course. To be fair he was the real perpetrator the drone was asking for, and perhaps that made him the safest option for Vulpin to choose. Still, he had faith that the blueblood might escape on his own. And despite caring too much about his blood color, Vulpin kind of liked the troll.
Another idea was the pinkblood. Obviously she had some trouble coming her way, just from being a mutantblood. What was some more drama on top of the pile that was being dropped on her? Still, Vulpin didn’t even have a name to work off of. He couldn’t make a convincing argument out of it. Vulpin thought hard, pursing his lips ever so slightly.
Then, it came to him. A wild card.
“Ganyma Callow.” He said to the drone with distinct clarity. The tealblood was the perfect target, unintelligent and weak enough to never seek revenge. Vulpin was certain from Forera’s interactions with him that he had rebel affiliations. Or he was at least considering them, based on the “inspiring” talks the tealbloods shared. “We met at that same rehabilitation center. He seemed to be a good troll, or a kind one. He had a lot of ideas.” Vulpin continued. “I was shocked at the end of the battle for Old Hemisect City. I almost lost my life to Captain Puchen’s actions. The bombs, specifically.” Vulpin spoke with eloquent diction, all while staring right into the eyes of the secretary drone. “Rehabilitation only helped so much. I was weak. So when he came along, spreading his thoughts whenever the drones were looking away…” Vulpin looked up from his seat with big baby woofbeast eyes. “What else would you expect from an impressionable child?”
Vulpin sat back in his seat, satisfied with his explanation. He was impressed by his own performance, but was still frightened. There was always the chance they wouldn’t buy it. After all, they supposedly knew more about the tealblood than he did. They had documents. They had surveillance. All Vulpin offered was conjecture. Hell, he hardly had more than a name.
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2015 1:42 pm
The simple fact that Zeffer made it up from the floor, even if he didn't quite smile and even if his jokes were starkly subpar, was a huge relief. The true weight of the situation ebbed away for a short moment, replaced with a familiar sort of comfort, but the unfortunate truth was, it just didn't last long enough. "She's not here, Zeff..." he muttered, though it was unnecessary; the look on the other's face told him that much. The blood seemed to drain away from his cheeks as Zeffer mentioned just what fate would befall their third musketeer, bringing the weight of it all crashing back down in that instant.
They were gonna kill her, yeah, probably. The facts were the facts, though, and Aprife was sure they faced equal threat. There was minimal solace in the fact that they hadn't been culled yet, but just what that meant for them was a stream of possibilities in his thinkpan as a silence fell between them. What could they do? Looking around, taking in the dark, cold surroundings, their choices seemed limited. Biting his lip and waiting, Aprife entertained that train for a while.
At some point during the bumpy ride, the yellowblood found himself leaning against Zeffer, cautious for a while of his injuries, but the exhaustion had really begun to sink in and occasionally he'd slip, slumping heavily and nearly drifting until the rage of thoughts woke him up again. This would have been the time for resting, if there was any, but his mind wouldn't let him go. There was too much to consider, too many questions and too many fears. Still, he was nearly asleep for the third or fourth time when the transport came to a halt and the doors were thrown open, jarring him unpleasantly from what fitful recuperation he could manage. Words sought to form, but nothing made it out before Zeffer pushed him back protectively, and even when the other was struck, he could barely choke out a sound of distress as they were chained with the others and led towards their ultimate fate.
Everything went by slowly. He watched his companion's back as they walked, listening to only the jostling of restraints and feeling the cold beginning to seep into his skin where his clothing was notably tattered and hanging. It became a long, monotonous drawl until he zoned back in at a particularly awful scream from the depths where they were headed. Just how long had the screams of their kin been echoing off the walls? The king of knowing it all again cursed himself for his inattention, though he also began to wonder if paying mind even mattered at this point. Aprife's head was a rush of conflicting thoughts as the darkness swallowed the blueblood in front of him and repaid his continued distraction with a shout that angered and confused him. Just what had happened to Zeffer?? It was seconds before he too was jolted into the blackness and stamped with the sign of a criminal.
It stung, badly, but it was almost lost among the jumble of thoughts and feelings as he finally looked around, eyes opened anew with their usual curiosity, though now wide with fear and confusion, as well. The air was frigid and the sounds of unfamiliar voices became close and apparent as they moved, eventually led to a cell of their own with a some of the faces they'd traveled here with. While he was keen on observing them for a moment to discern any usefulness, Zeffer took priority and his summons was enough to rouse a weary Aprife over to the corner. He'd muttered something about being okay, despite being quite sure they both weren't, but was quick to get down to the real task at hand.
He wasn't sure what to ask or what they could discuss, not yet, not really, but he started with the most obvious question. "What do you think they're gonna do with us?" Settling next to Zeffer, he scratched at his head, catching dried blood under his fingernails.
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2015 2:44 pm
Zeffer stood up to take a quick peek out of their tiny window before sliding back down, and snuggling up to his friend with a sneer on his face. Good old Busthind, perfect spot for a grubsucking prison like this one. There wasn't much to see, or be done, but as the adrenaline began to ebb again, Zeffer could feel the cold seeping in, and the draft in the cell was already causing him discomfort. His horns knocked lightly against Aprife's as he huddled, heaving a sigh and watching his breath waft out before him. He took the chance to look at his tattoo again, still throbbing dully, and poked at the bump under his grey flesh.
"Not sure. Can't see why they would bother to give us these if they were gonna execute us right off. Probably gonna ******** with us for a while." He looked up for a moment to glance around at the trolls they were sharing the cell with, before letting his eyes drop again. There was still a frantic sort of feeling simmering in his chest, but he was too tired to act on it. He wanted to slam around, and make some noise, but he knew it would be foolish. Everything they had done since the beginning of their doomed mission felt foolish now, and he grit his teeth as he tried to think of something, anything, to do. He could feel his morale seeping away.
"I know this is dumb to say...but I'm sorry about all this." He murmured, nuzzling against his friend. Was he not the one who had dragged the yellowblood into it in the first place, all that time ago? Zeffer had never really thought, at length, about the danger of being captured before, or the finality of death. His own experiences, and his youth, had lead him to the near delusional belief that they were nigh invincible. Had they not raised hell during an all out war, and come out mostly unscathed? The memories of their time in the lighthouse nearly brought a grin to his lips, but his heart wasn't in it. Their memories, their accomplishments, would soon be lost and forgotten.
"I was sure that damn thing would fall apart after it got jolted enough. It was just a metal box, for ******** sake." Zeffer swallowed hard. It was difficult not to dwell on it. It wasn't even that it had been their first ever failure, but the fact that it was the one to bring them to their knees was the most painful part. "I should have covered you guys while you tried to get through the doors. I'm sorry." His voice broke a little, and his eyes squeezed shut. He was disgusted with himself, with how pathetic they had all become. He curled against Aprife with a quiet wheeze, jaw clenched as he tried to quell his anger.
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2015 5:16 pm
Aprife was quick to snake an arm around when he was joined again, shifting until they were both adjusted, breathing out the same frozen breaths. He didn't have much warmth to offer, but whatever he could give he would, even if all it did was take the edge off. Anything was preferable to braving the bitterness of an uninsulated cell somewhere in the mountains alone. There was an unusual quietness to him as he kept his eyes forward, listening to Zeffer. That much was true, what purpose would branding them serve if it were straight off to the gallows? Taking a moment to glance down at his own wrist, he grimaced, flexing it to experience the extend of the pain before settling it back at his side. It probably would've hurt more if he wasn't already starting to get numb.
"A work camp, maybe?" he was trying to think, even though it was hard. Aprife was giving it everything he had to be the one who was quick on his metaphorical feet, like he usually was. "I bet Busthind has some minerals or something of value they'd want to mine." It was a guess at best, but didn't seem too farfetched if they wanted a use for all these captured rebels. Mulling over it didn't last long, though, not when the blueblood started to talk again.
It made his chest squeeze painfully, those words. 'All of this' hadn't been Zeffer's fault, not his alone and besides, Aprife had made his choice. Maybe until now the choice had been a lighthearted one, at least a little bit so, but he'd made it and he planned on sticking with it. "I would've gotten out a long time ago if I wanted to..." he muttered, leaning down to rest his head against the other's, and it was true. Even if the yellowblood was good at lying, he meant this, just like even though he'd always found it difficult to commit, he'd committed himself to both the cause and Zeffer in turn.
He was tightening his grip, his fingers stiff and almost aching, but he didn't want to let go. "We're in this together and it'll be okay." The assurance that it would be okay might have been a lie, but a white one, and one he found himself wanting to believe, even though he felt like he was cracking some, too. "We gotta hang in there, we'll find a way out..." He was shivering as he pressed his chapped lips to Zeffer's forehead, knowing now probably wasn't the time for dropping his guard, but not much caring at this point.
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Posted: Sat Jan 10, 2015 6:50 pm
Shackles rattling, a few of the adult rebels are lead past your cells, in the direction you first arrived from. Some of them have their eyes closed, a few stare ahead or at the ground, faces furious. Some hum a old Alternian battle song, quietly together as they go. Most try to not make eye contact with you as they shuffle past, doing their best to ignore you and your fellow prisoners. One however, looks over, eyes filled with pity as they walk past. Before they disappear out of sight, they shake their head once, and look away. Soon the clink of their chains dies away and the normal prison noises trickle in to fill the silence left behind.
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