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[Captive] Tea and Torture {Schol + Thraen x Amphi}

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Garbage Cat

PostPosted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 12:18 am


There were moans on occasion, or yelps, but mostly he found the walls coated with whispers as he walked past. The drab neutral walls offered very few indications of direction - only seldom did he run across signs indicating A block or B block. He supposed, by the look of one of the few fire escape maps posted in the guard areas, that the jail had four blocks in total. Thraen mentioned B block specifically, cell 109 - which suggested the bottom floor of that cell area, if numeric convention was to be trusted.

The corridors wound for a great time, and for most of it, he walked on in silence. Few times had he heard the footsteps of another, and auric sense gave him little indication of who was following. There was, it seemed, some kind of damper cast over the place like Destiny City's very own iron curtain. Here, he was sequestered from the rest of the auric world, where auric energy coated the air freely. Here, he ventured into seldom known territory.

Someone screamed again, and it sounded louder this time. Scholomance guessed that he was headed in the proper direction. A sign advertising B Block loomed above him as he walked through another set of barred doors. Luckily the electricity still worked enough to open them.

The open area of the cell block was reminiscent of Alcatraz, or what he saw of it on various documentaries. Cells lined the walls in quick succession, and the area spanned several hundred feet, with multiple levels. His assumption that 109 was on the bottom floor was confirmed when he saw the first black block numbers stenciled in above a nearby cell. Odds remained on his left, while evens on his right. Scholomance ventured no contact with the Orderites buzzing about, nor did they choose to acknowledge him. Some did, however, look to him in eerie suspicion, and he felt that he might need to defend his position as a knight instead of a Negaverse agent. Luckily, no one acted on his questionable mix of darks yet.

After sidestepping a particularly unfriendly-looking freckled super senshi, Scholomance found the cell in question with the door open. The floral scent struck him before he passed into the chamber, and he recognized Thraen's plentiful backside immediately (the hair, secondarily, was a good tip-off). Someone lay on one of the fold-out beds not far from him, which he recognized as Amphitrite some time ago. She looked to be in a compromising position now - one that did not afford her the confidence projection she entertained before. "Thraen," he offered as he came to a stop next to the taller man. "It looks like your friends have half the Negaverse strung up here."


xIvynian
edited title to follow convention

xfrayedflower
lmk if anything needs fixing!
PostPosted: Tue Jan 19, 2016 1:28 am


Amphitrite was staring up at the ceiling with the most neutral expression she could muster, her eyes half-lidded - and for all intents and purposes she looked more downright bored than anything. Try as she might though, even in such a position (which in any other circumstances might've suited her just fine to be honest), her body language subtly betrayed her. Her breath could not come quickly enough, and she had already tugged her bonds too painfully tight in any attempt to break free, her skin clammy with sweat drawn from exertion and barely suppressed panic.

Her head still ached where she'd been struck. It was a little too reminiscent of the last time - and that's what was getting to her, not what they might or might not do, but the fact that she was here at all, that she was back in a ******** cage again and after everything -

Maybe it was that the memory had faded with him, but she swore the tightness in her chest now was more excruciating than what Laurelite had done to save her.

She did not recognize Thraen from her fractured memories. But there was someone else, very much familiar even if it'd been a bit of time between them now -

"Scholomance. Darling. I don't even get a hello?" she offered in a purr, arching herself to the best of her ability. "I would've thought you'd be more excited to see me - but I suppose you'd rather be the one on the bed, yes?" Half the Negaverse.

Who else was here? Who else had these bastards taken?

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Ivynian

frayedflower

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Ivynian

Cat

PostPosted: Tue Jan 19, 2016 10:13 am


"'Tis not even a tithe of theirs. As many more I can put sketches of faces to, if not names, and thrice-four-a hundred time more at least makes the tale of a city stronghold where all the Youma dwell. What is the population of Destiny City? Six hundreds of thousands? Seven? Carthage was so much in her height. Antioch in hers. The Rift may house so many. " Perhaps the knight had meant it as some sort of levity, mixing bravado and hyperbole.

And here a senshi, darkened star to add to the lot. I wonder if she can be redeemed at all. Conversations in chains are not the best for proposing such things. Amphitrite, small and bright once. And she knows Scholomance already? What is with the arching? Trying to unsettle with lewdness, or have they meant more to each other recently? Thraen stepped forward to the bedside, speaking finally at full volume. "What is your name?"

Do you remember it? Ash said she tried, but no details of why it failed.

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frayedflower
PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 2:34 am


"Ah. You're awake." The squire smiled behind the mask. "Good afternoon." Amphitrite looked quite worse for wear, given how the light caught the sheen of sweat across every open expanse of her body. Panic was a very visible emotion in all parts of body language, and most apparent in the state of the skin. Her hyperventilations remained visible in the rise and fall of chest, where a deep black hole reminded him quite thoroughly of her allegiance. "You don't look well, I'm afraid, but your humor is still quite healthy. Actually, I think I'd be happy with any one of us on the bed, Thraen included." And I'd half my way in half a breath for certain.

To Thraen, he shrugged. "Even if it isn't, you could've lied. Do you think she knew half the Negaverse wasn't in here?" Missed opportunity aside, Thraen was wise about estimates. Truly there was no number they could project to account for the Negaverse's masses - both their youma and their officers. It wasn't like the faction published a yearly census for all to see. The most the pair could do was speculate over their numbers within Destiny City; Scholomance had little clue if the Negaverse's regime spanned beyond the city limits or not. For all they knew, the Negaverse may hold the entire rest of the globe in their hands.

"Don't mind me." The standing grew tiresome, so Scholomance crossed the length of the cell to take a seat near Amphitrite's hip. As Thraen asked for her name, the squire remained silent. He wondered if Amphitrite would give it, or if her stubbornness against the White Moon cautioned her against the release of any information. He wondered how Thraen would take such a response of defiance, and how he intended to temper it. Would Amphitrite be put to sleep and have her teeth pulled in the handful of seconds at interim? Did Thraen have other tricks at his disposal? It was difficult to tell.

He crossed one leg over the other, and rested the bottom of his bone cane against the top of one shoe. I wonder what you're thinking right now, Amphitrite. I wonder if you still feel more powerful with the Negaverse, even as the White Moon has you tied to a bed.

"Just one thing - if I am going to sit in on this, try not to murder anyone. I don't do well with blood, and guts, and those terrible sounds bones make when they snap."


Ivynian

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PostPosted: Wed Jan 20, 2016 7:26 am


Although he was trying to drop the volume of his voice, Amphitrite could still catch some of what Thraen was saying, and couldn't help a slightly smug smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Yes, their numbers were many. Yes, they were organized. And yes, they were going to destroy these people in the very, very near future. It was only a matter of time.

Hopefully. Don't leave her here please, please, please - Stop pleading, Amphitrite. It does not become you. It was so hard to breathe.

"Afternoon, is it?" She laughed lightly. It was a little choked, though. "Times flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? - as for well, you should know, too much fun on the town'll do that darling." The crack about the bed made her smile at least. "Can't say I blame you."

She flashed Scholomance a half-lidded look at he settled by her hip. "Really, darling, there? - I can think of at least one better place for you, " she teased as lightly as she was able, her smile tighter than she would've liked. But it detracted from her discomfort, her latent fears, why was this happening to her again. It was not exactly comforting to have Scholomance there. That would be giving him too much credit. But he was not an unfriendly face, and he'd projected neutral with an interest in joining their ranks. Better him than many of the others with their hollow apologies and spurts of violence. "Also, much as I love a man of mystery, take that mask off already." As though she were in any position to be giving anything resembling orders. "You've got such nice lips under there."

The corrupt swallowed hard and kept up her composure; banter was good, but it was draining, and the sheer fact of being here was more of a strain than she ever wanted to admit to. "Amphitrite. - you heard of me handsome? My name seems to travel." She said this proudly; she did not recognize Thraen at all for all the gaps in her fractured memories.

Ivynian

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frayedflower
PostPosted: Sun Jan 24, 2016 6:37 pm


"We differ, Scholomance, on our definitions of what is done here." He was tired of hearing that word bandied around. The fatigue was ridiculous- those who'd stood against had not given reasons for their stance. Those who supported were often just as vague. The debate, though, was predictable in people like Iris, Athene, Ida, Megrez, and Cybele. The debate was easy to remember from dreams and the Shadows of the future, and just how many of the Mainstay preferred to disavow knowing of them.

The difference, eternal, of Murder and Execution. It was a difference that he debated with himself nightly. It couldn't be put aside, having no final answer. The choice of the words had the surety of best choice made on available information only. "If you find it morally upsetting, then seek your own will, or leave."

"Amphitrite. A name of no fame, save the mourning of friends. " She does not recognize me. She has forgotten that we met. Has she forgotten Ash, then? All of the White Moon?

"Why should I have heard of Amphitrite? What greatness has she?"



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frayedflower

Ivynian

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Garbage Cat

PostPosted: Tue Jan 26, 2016 1:24 am


"Do we?" The phrase was not asked in petulance, or passive aggression; Scholomance was curious to the meaning behind Thraen's words. The squire did not remember citing a specific definition of what was to happen within the cell, only what would have to wait until he left.

As he went on, the discrepancy resolved in Scholomance's mind. He straightened as he responded. "Oh, you must mean murder. Or... Definitions - killing? I have no moral problem with it, but I have a very big problem with certain things like the sound of someone being ended, or blood getting on me - think of all those blood-borne pathogens - or, well... It's easier if you just ask me to step outside for two minutes. Then you can do what you like." It would be a shame to lose someone as cute as Amphitrite, for he quite liked her confidence and aplomb, but he owed her no personal feelings. Well, perhaps only personal feelings of the lascivious sort.

'Save the mourning of friends.' She did cite being from the White Moon initially. Did Thraen know her then? Evidently not if he's asking why he should've heard of her. Or... Something. He has such an old manner of speech.

There came a perpetual anxiety between the two conflicting tones of the occasion - Thraen's being quite serious, while Amphitrite fought for lilting humor. Defaulting to one or the other suggested a commitment to a side that he wasn't interested in making yet. He would not altogether ignore Amphitrite's entreating, however. The fabric was tugged to a rumpled collection around his throat. "It is a little garish of a smile for the occasion." Now fully exposed, Scholomance fought to keep his countenance carefully neutral.

Scholomance looked to Thraen first (and considered staring for a while, as he found the senshi's BitchFace quite aesthetic), then to Amphitrite for her answer. "I'm interested to hear your story, too." All I know is that you're connected to Alkaid somehow.


frayedflower

Ivynian
PostPosted: Tue Jan 26, 2016 4:31 pm


"Friends, " the corrupt spat the word bitterly with a hint of a twisted smile and a rueful shake of her head. Some friends. "I doubt any but maybe Ash even noticed I was gone." The talk of brutality, of broken bones and blood, that did little to rile her up. Let them try and bend her to their will, there would be no yield from her. As least if he did opt to try and kill her (ironic, really, if they would do what she'd begged of the Negaverse), she would go with her head held high. "As for my lack of fame, my darling, if you don't know then why would I tell you?" Her name was one thing; her reputation was another. She knew her own worth, but in turn knew it was better that they did not.

Scholomance was really much more fun to play with. "That's much better." She flashed him a smile she hoped was charming. It was no less strained. "As for my story, darling - that I can tell you. It's a fit of a fitting tale, given the circumstances. You see, I've been in this position before. Well, " she strained lightly against her bonds, rolling lightly against the bed, "I was sitting the last time. The Negaverse took a handful of us for information - I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, or so I've been told. Most of the captives were kept for a week. Me, on the other hand - "

She laughed; it was no less a strained sound, and seeped in the taste of bitterness. "Somehow I slipped under their radar." The corrupt shot Thraen a too-sugary smile. "So they opted to keep me as bait, expecting my people would come for me. Then one week turned to two, then three, then four... and then finally in the fifth, General-Queen Laurelite intervened. She saw potential in me where even I saw none, and she gave me a second chance. So now here I am."

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frayedflower

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Ivynian

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PostPosted: Sat Jan 30, 2016 9:13 pm


No moral problem with killing? Have you thought about it then? That will have to wait for another time. I can't tell if I should be concerned of as much a problem from the knight of Scholomance as the Negaverse, or if it is as much a matter of thoughtlessness as the rest of so-called senshi and knights. Or just part of some airs put on for this farce as much as my attempting anything of talking to her here.

Corrupted she was, losing half of everything and filled with malice and bitterness and blame, and better the odds for civilians at large if she were euthanized.


He did not dignify her question with an answer, did not foreclose the standing, the power of questions to a prisoner. Arguing gave the wrong impressions in any sort of interrogation setting, as much as any of this had been made with the idea of interrogation. He was starting to doubt the reasons any of them had come together for this.

She sounds far gone in bravado with every sentence more. Not caring to hear any 'truth' further than a very narrow perception. But is it her own, or one fed her? That would be a difference.
Remain calm- easy.
Free narrative question not taken. Ask them their opinions. Direct and cross questions. Review. People who deceive find in their success. Rewards us for achieving control over other people, for the power of having something that others do not have. Pleasure in the secret nature of knowing that we have gained something, but also that the other person does not know.


"Five weeks? The body needs water at least in 7 days... Death comes after one week without. There was a clock then? A calendar? Some idea of light to count the days as they passed? And if you were tied to a chair, you would have messed yourself at least so early, developed infections and open sores. Your math doesn't add up for your love of the Negaverse. Your new friends and lovers? There can't have been much visible potential ? "

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frayedflower
PostPosted: Fri Feb 05, 2016 12:35 am


That's a hard knock, isn't it? His gaze shifted to Thraen wordlessly.

Imprisoned for five weeks... That takes resilience. And to believe in the Negaverse after? I wonder if that's evidence of the mind-control aspect that Hvergelmir referenced. This inability to think ill of Metallia and her ilk. It's such a powerful tool. Nothing of that sort exists among the White Moon, does it? Or the Knights. Small wonder that we're always scattered, always at each other's throats at times. If nothing else, that belief in Metallia is the membership card that awards one with solidarity among the Negaverse. I imagine the White Moon would be far more successful if it had that in its repertoire.

If nothing else, it's one very important difference between the Code and Metallia.


Amphitrite's smile was interesting, for it expressed many qualities about her that she would not admit to vocally. There was effort in returning an easy smile to him, though the attempt never reached her eyes for the telltale crinkle of indulgence. It looked far more an exercise in recital than a normal smile; he wondered if she did so to see if it would brighten her own mood. What trains of thought dominated her mind right now? Did she worry over her survival? Did she expect that the Negaverse would deliver her from bondage after a time?

"I am curious." Scholomance pulled one leg beneath himself to more fully adjust to facing Amphitrite (for sitting at an angle murdered his back, he found). "Let's assume these are similar conditions. You said that you don't have any friends, because none came to your rescue and none would remember you now. How many weeks would you have to pass here before you thought the same of the Negaverse? What if all the other officers here," he gestured toward the door of the cell, where further cells were visible, "were rescued within a week, but you 'slipped under their radar'?" Would her judgment extend both ways, or would her steadfast appreciation for Metallia quash all considerations for such an outcome?


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