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 Posted: Tue Mar 29, 2011 6:07 pm
[Torture plz.]
After the incident with Wolframite, Gunn had asked to be removed from his rotation for a while. Just a day or so to get her head on straight, she'd said, staring at the toes of her high heels. She hadn't wanted to admit how badly she'd slipped up--Kreszant was not a common name, in no way was it common, and her chest seized up every time she thought about how she might have put her cousin in danger. But what could she even do?... Just stay away for a while.
It was shameful to be the first ISS member to break like that. It made Gunn go cold inside, which was strange--everything about the Super Sailor of Wildfire was wild heat, firey as her sphere. But she'd keep her head high and work harder. It was what she had to do.
Even though she didn't have to see Wolframite for a few days, she did still have duties. And one of them was, as leader of the Special Forces, to see what she could get out of the other prisoners. Of course, she'd not really... thought about asking after more than Bismuthite's civilian name. Occasional questions about the composition of the Negaverse, which sometimes were answered--the lieutenants all bore the scars of Gunn's loving attentions.
She hadn't yet seen Uranophane, although stories of Ares's silent beatdown had circulated. The way Gunn saw it, if she could get even a little bit of information out of Uranophane, she might be able to redeem her failings. So she shut the door behind her, carefully peeled off her gloves. "Hello," she said, without turning to the prisoner. "My name is Super Sailor Gunn. That's two n's, as in the valkyrie, not one n like the weapon."
Now she turned to look at the disheveled and frankly rather disgusting-looking Negaverser. "God, but you look like s**t," she said pleasantly.
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Posted: Tue Mar 29, 2011 8:09 pm
Sailor Gunn had walked into a scene that was... well, that was extremely similar to the other ones she had encountered in the makeshift prison. All that changed was the names, the faces, and the shapes of the bodies attached to them. Everything else was the same. The fleeting, flickering dark aura of the Negaverse filled the room with an atmosphere that was even more destitute than could have been otherwise expecting. At the center of that foreboding, encroaching feeling was a single officer of their opposition tethered to a folding metal chair, their tattered form sagging against the binds: a single, struggling candle-flame, casting darkness onto the walls around it.
The floor around the chair was splattered with a fair amount of what could have been water, but was knowledgeably blood. Captain Uranophane's eyes, glazed over with exhaustion, were transfixed by the sight of it. It would perhaps be a surprise that while some of it was there because of the Blood Moon senshi and their interrogation methods, a lot of it was not their doing at all. The moment she had been dragged to her prison her boots had been pulled off, leaving her feet exposed and sealing her fate to have them be mutilated without any senshi needing to lay a single finger on her.
For, as Gunn might have been aware, the abandoned factory was full of rats. And there was nothing Uranophane could do to get them away from her.
And there was nothing her captors were interested in doing to get them away from her.
All they ever did was stand guard, while she gritted her teeth and tried not to scream. She usually failed. And now her bare feet were riddled with bruises and bite marks, little streaks of dried blood running down the sides of them and meeting with the puddles on the floor. Uranophane's face had turned gaunt, her blankly staring face seemingly aged years beyond the teenager she'd been when she'd been brought in here. Her formerly neat braid could hardly be called a braid anymore. Bits of it were still tied together in that fashion, but most of the greasy plum-colored strands were strewn messily over her shoulders and face.
"Captain Uranophane," she dully answered, with a voice that had a curious rasping undertone to it. It was like it was trying to bubble, but there was nothing liquid in her throat with which to do so. "And here I thought you didn't care."
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Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 8:49 am
Gunn crouched down a safe distance away from Uranophane, eyes little more than professionally curious. It was a little annoying to realize she was being outdone by rats--those were going to leave some nasty scars. And the Negaverser, if she lived, would assuredly have to get a few rabies shots. ... Still, if she did live, a couple needles were the least of her problems.
"I care enough," she said, gnawing on her bottom lip. "A little annoyed, really, I'm getting outdone by rats." Why not tell them whatever came into her head, they were all doomed to die anyway. She straightened up, pushing herself to her full height with her hands on her knees. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I'd shake your hand, but..." A significant look to the chains, and then she settled her hands on her hips. This room had a matchbook over on the desk, she noted approvingly--to light the candles, but it'd do just fine if she decided to coerce a little more information out of the Captain with fire as an inspiration, right?
She sighed, leaning back against the wall and tapping out a rhythm with her toes. After a moment more of thought, she directed her gaze back to Uranophane's face. "I suppose this is when I should ask you about youma creation or summoning or, I don't know, s**t. General-kings, or something. But I'll let you off easy, okay?" Now the redhead leaned forward a bit, her expression going narrow and predatory.
"Give me Lieutenant Bismuthite's civilian name, and I'll make it so the rats leave you alone." Or at least so she couldn't feel it anymore, she thought, thinking of those matches.
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Posted: Mon Apr 04, 2011 1:12 pm
Her eyes focused on Gunn, albeit only briefly. The gesture was strangely neutral, as if Uranophane was just passively registering the senshi's presence before turning her attention back to the nothing she'd been occupying herself with before.
She was obviously exhausted beyond belief. She had long since accepted the fact that there was no way out of her prison, and had started making attempts at a different kind of escape: if it was quiet enough, and she could suppress the encroaching heaviness of despair enough, she could almost make the room around her vanish from her awareness. Sailor Gunn had interrupted that. The musty, damp smell of the room was assaulting her senses again, as was the raw, burning pain in her feet.
Let her off easy, that was a laugh.
Uranophane clenched her teeth and attempted to swallow the gritty, scratchy sensations in her throat as Gunn moved about the room. When she leaned forward and asked her question, all the Captain had to offer was, "I don't know of Lieutenant Bismuthite."
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