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Room 2

Someone nudged him, and TK turned toward the figure. Although he did not recognize the knight, he listened intently anyways. His eyes flickered to the grid and almost wanted to slap himself for not recognizing the pattern earlier. “That appears to be true,” he agreed. He continued to look at the grid with his arms folded and one hand up to his chin. It was then that he remembered the loud, shouting person from earlier. Hadn’t they also spoken about a grid as well, but with letters rather than numbers.

“To the people who have a grid with letters and not numbers, would you mind describing what and where the letters are? I want to see if there is a connection between that grid and the grid in this room.”

[ Cell 12 ]

All others around her were forgotten as she slid her hands down from his face, down his neck, to settle on his shoulders. Her love, she had but one memory of the two of them together but it was enough. It all made sense; there was no way Na'ima would get half of a tattoo and give the other half to someone not important to her, it explained her seemingly inexplicable reason for her compulsion toward him. She gave a soft chuckle at his words, her hands squeezing and massaging his shoulders with gentle touches. "Mm, I can see that. You made it quite clear your stance on courting me, you stubborn man," she playfully chided. But when he smirked she hesitated, eyes widening. "What--" Oh.

At first the kiss was returned, her eagerness and excitement of being reunited with her beloved encouraging her to go along with what he wanted instead of making a fuss, but it wasn't long before she heard voices again that reminded her they were in public. She tried to pull away simply by instinct, golden amber eyes darting toward the others they were sharing their cell with. As she opened her mouth to protest the heavy displays of affection he leaned in close to whisper into her ear. Her gaze fell to the floor, head tilting slightly in his direction. Oh, Wrath. Her sweet, sweet Wrath. She turned to wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself onto his lap, nuzzling her face into his cheek. "I always hear you, Wrath," she reminded him in a whisper before she continued. "How do we know she will truly free us? For all we know, it could be a trick, and she could lead us further into ruin than help us, and all because she just could."

When he looked into her eyes she frowned, leaning in to affectionately bump her nose against his and then rest her forehead against Wrath's. "Nothing you're saying is wrong, I agree, but there are other ways to go about it than to openly announce your allegiance to one that is believed to be an enemy and a monster." Na'ima allowed herself to smile again, a hand coming up to cup brush the back of her fingers along the line of his jaw. "You and I, we'll figure something out, but we need to play nice with the others until we're safe and sound again, all right?"

It was then someone unfamiliar to her spoke up and she lifted her head to look away from Wrath, finding the young man asking if they were all right. Na'ima gave a nod and dropped her hand from Wrath's face to let it lad on her lap, sitting up straight and tall as if she was sitting in a proper chair and not the lap of a man likely twice her size. "I'm perfectly fine, yes. A bit of a headache, but someone did hit me over the head with the shaft of a lance." Her voice raised slightly as she spoke of Galahad, as if doing so would bring his attention back to her and remind him how rude that was. "It would seem while we were sleeping, our cell mates and those in the other cells have been hard at work finding a way out of here for us. How do you feel, dear?"

Let someone examine him? Soren wasn't sure he was willing to go through all of that, and he wasn't just going to go willingly. Plague or no plague he felt perfectly fine, and they were probably just blowing this all out of proportion.

Or it was a trap, you could never be too certain.

So the tall, broad man started to work his way past some knights. He wasn't actually being stealthy at all. Instead he moved with purpose, trying to appear as if he had a reason to be going where he was and hoping that maybe no one would question him.

He got his wish, no one questioned him. Instead Galahad's lance appeared in his vision, moving swiftly enough that he didn't have time to dodge. When Soren awoke he was in the dungeon, and this was not what he had planned.



---------------

Plague. Great. What was better than the plague? Putting a bunch of people in the same spot so that anyone who didn't have the plague yet could get it.

Great idea. Brilliant.

Sacha didn't want any part of that ridiculous plan. So instead he skirted the outside of the group, dodging past a few knights before there was a whack on his head and the young knight went down in a crumpled heap.

[cell 6]

Chel looked at Horace, then to Oliver, then back to Horace. It was a good idea actually, calling out for people.

Somewhat hesitantly, she tugged on Horace's sleeve. "Holler and see if there's someone named Chris for me?" Chel didn't want her voice to be heard across the entirety of the prison. Better to get someone else to do it.

[Cell 8]

There were skeletons in the cell.

Chris was positive that was unsanitary.

[Cell #6]

"Uh, nah, I think you fixed me up okay, Oliver." He didn't tell Oliver, but it was kind of sluggishly bleeding. Horace imagined the knights had not exactly been kind to his unconscious body. "Apparently, there's a riddle of some sort that has a way out - but I'm not really good at riddles. Anyway, you're sure you're okay?" He did not think about how Lawr had not answered him, even though unease prickled along the back on his neck. Horace sighed.

After a moment, he turned, leaning against the bars, and nodded at the woman in his cell. "Hey, is there a Tris here? Wait, Chris. Is there a Chris down here too?" He paused and frowned as someone else work up.

"Hey, you alright?"

[Cell 8 - Drona] (god they would roll the same cell what the ********)

Drona's first sight when she woke up was a disgusting skull. He shocked her and she jerked upright with a gasp. Her head throbbed lightly and she had to squint for a moment before she was able to make out the other people in the cell.

One was a blonde with douche-y hair. Another was a girl with long, long hair. She didn't recognize anyone, really.

She touched the back of her head where the headache seemed to originate and her fingers came back sticky and dark. Well. That explained that. The guards must have hit her as they brought her down to stop her struggling. She vaguely remembered their painful grip on her arms and she tried to wrench out of their grasp, but everything beyond that was blank.

God dammit.

She watched the long haired girl fiddle with a puzzle for a moment, bemused by the urgency with which she saw everyone trying to solve it. Was this really the key to them leaving the prison? Seemed kind of ridiculous.

It took another few minutes of her squinting around the cell to realize that they'd had their weapons stripped of them. She supposed she should have noticed that earlier, but she was hardly firing on all cylinders. When they got out - if they got out - she'd have to find her sword and quickly. If they Great Knights were willing to lock every one of them up they were willing to go to incredibly ridiculous lengths to keep them out of the way. She foresaw a lot of fighting, and she was positive she wasn't ready to face a Great Knight without her best weapon.

She sighed and slouched heavily against the cold wall of the cell. Until then, it was just a waiting game.

[CELL 10 INHABITANTS]


Rei answered the other knight answer by reading the grid he drawn on his cell's wall for comparison. "It's either G, T or T, V depending on the combination of colors. I think we should try them both?"