"I wasn't expecting things to get so serious--"
Characters: The captured kidnapper + anyone on the Way [OPEN]
Content: Professional and amateur interrogations of the kidnapper Tarzan caught. Come throw things at him, rage at him, try to get information out of him, or just call him a jerk.
Setting: The Way's brig
Time: Over the course of the day after the initial attack
Warnings: Snark, plus whatever you bring with you.
He sat on the floor, head tilted back against the wall. One arm, covered by the dirty sleeve of his disheveled coat, rested over his eyes as he tried to get a bit of sleep. He held no illusions that he wouldn't be interrogated, but hopefully, he wouldn't be tortured like he would on a pirate or navy ship.
Though the people here were turning out to be much less soft than he'd thought they would be.
He shifted to sit up straight and pulled a plain pocketwatch out, checking the time. It had to be light out by now, he'd been in here for hours. Deliberately not thinking about what might or might not happen to him, he settled back into the corner, leaning forward so his black hair covered his eyes. He wasn't getting rescued, that was for sure. He wasn't even sure Grita knew he was missing. Well, no. She probably knew, but didn't care.
That was a depressing thought.
Dismissing it, he ignored the tread of feet down the stairs. Whoever was coming to see him was not going to meet a cooperative prisoner. What did he have to lose?
Content: Professional and amateur interrogations of the kidnapper Tarzan caught. Come throw things at him, rage at him, try to get information out of him, or just call him a jerk.
Setting: The Way's brig
Time: Over the course of the day after the initial attack
Warnings: Snark, plus whatever you bring with you.
He sat on the floor, head tilted back against the wall. One arm, covered by the dirty sleeve of his disheveled coat, rested over his eyes as he tried to get a bit of sleep. He held no illusions that he wouldn't be interrogated, but hopefully, he wouldn't be tortured like he would on a pirate or navy ship.
Though the people here were turning out to be much less soft than he'd thought they would be.
He shifted to sit up straight and pulled a plain pocketwatch out, checking the time. It had to be light out by now, he'd been in here for hours. Deliberately not thinking about what might or might not happen to him, he settled back into the corner, leaning forward so his black hair covered his eyes. He wasn't getting rescued, that was for sure. He wasn't even sure Grita knew he was missing. Well, no. She probably knew, but didn't care.
That was a depressing thought.
Dismissing it, he ignored the tread of feet down the stairs. Whoever was coming to see him was not going to meet a cooperative prisoner. What did he have to lose?