the third punishment
An hour past dark, any door Tsia, Anders or Logan try to open will lead to the same blackened corridor. Inside, the Headsman waits, ever-sharp axe slung over his shoulder as he beckons them forward. Any attempt to fight or flee will be quickly silenced by the Headsman and the blunt side of his axe
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She's convinced now, more than ever, that this was a dreamer channel, a programmed hallucination with interactive features. There was a Mole hidden somewhere, there had to be. She certainly feels those axe blows, and they are not something to brush off. She finds herself standing upon the Green with what looks to be a bact-vat, feathers, and coals with a rod stuck in it.
She has a very brief moment, where the hooded figure points to what appeared to be holes in the wood. A larger hole and two smaller ones. Imagination works it's wonder and the guide *knows* what he is figuring to do.
Like hell she is going to stand still for it, threat or no threat. She'll be bending to no one, and all this guy has is an axe. It's not like it's a gun-
She runs.
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There is no where to run.
The Headsman watches, axe in hand and points again to the stocks. Last chance, Tsia.
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That fence is so tantalizingly close-
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No longer one to be patient, the Headsman grabs Tsia's arm and drags her to the stocks. Forcing her down, the stocks are shut tight. There will be no more escape attempts.
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"You slimly piece of dike-dung! LET ME GO!"
She screams at the man-thing and rages ineffectively. She tries to kick where she thinks his kneecaps are, or reaches with her other hand to try and claw at his face. She might punch him, and as a last resort her teeth will meet together where-ever foreign flesh restrains her. The sounds she makes are clearly not happy at all, and is more like an awful matrimony of woman and angry wildcat.
Thrown into the stocks despite all of this- she turns to the wood and jerks against it.
"What are you doing? What the hell is going on?! LET ME GO!"
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With his axe, he starts a tear on the back of Tsia's shirt before tearing it through. Skin exposed, his attention turns to the hot coals and the brand within it.
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"You sonofabitch!" Tsia jerks hard enough that she leaves skin in the stocks. She twists her wrists trying to get out of the damned contraption.
She doesn't even know the coals are meant for her, nor can she see the brand hiding in it. She balls up close to the stock, keeping her as far from the clocked bastard as she could get.
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Whether she's ready for it or not, the brand is pressed to her skin.
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Then her body contorted against the stocks with the touch of hot metal upon her flesh. The oils came unbidden and too late- this was not a heat she could avoid. It was worse than the n-rod, for it was her FLESH, and not her nerves, that were on fire.
She SCREAMED.
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She writhes where she is caught against the bonds holding her and the brand. The oils have soaked her skin and clothes and they can do nothing to protect her. It is cruelty that forces a brand upon a guide. The irony is not lost upon her, even in this haze of pain.
Rage sparks deep inside her gut.
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The Headsman steps back, his issue of punishment complete.
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She's far from calm- and the sounds she's making are not those of a person with their sanity and faculties about them.
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Deiors thoughts on Tsia's actions evident by the mark. The punishment had been a brand and nothing more, but the woman's behavior begs for more action to be taken.
Tsia will not be released from the stocks until her rage quells. Without a word, the Headsman turns and exits the Green.
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She clamps the gate shut, keeping her thoughts and desires to herself, now that she can think a little again. She might have to be a little longer yet in the stocks- until the smell of blood, dirt and metal fades. Perhaps until someone can come and calm her down...
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"You have no idea what just happened, do you?"
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