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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I'm pretty sure I had a hot poker put to my back.
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Are you sure they weren't bored? I've dealt with bored captors before, and this seems to parallel it quite neatly. They make excuses for the punishment, then blow it out of proportion.
[She hisses between her teeth at the end of her little speech.
Actually, talking is calming her down and taking her mind from the pain. She's no longer at the point of wanting blood under her fingers and flesh in her teeth.
Maybe later she can take the metal rod and return the favor.]
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"By the way, if you got a new one I'd suggest using it regularly, unless you don't mind becoming a drawing board."
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She growls.]
So we really are slaves here.
[She kneels down, a bit more comfortable than standing with her ass in the air.]
What do you mean "drawing board"?
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"Like this," he holds up his wrist, showing off the tattoo. "You've got one too, if you haven't noticed. It spreads all over you if you don't 'keep records.'"
He grimaces a bit, adjusting the journal in his hands. There was an easier way than this, right? Hm...
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Writing in these journals, when one doesn't want to- is something to do for a slave.
[She had to learn a language that was not her own, as a slave, and was told that she should take it like having a private tutor.
Her eyes light upon his own tattoo. She noticed alright, she even tried to scrub it off- she bled before it moved. Well, that's a lie. It moved, just not off of her.
So he -was- the same as her. Huh, maybe she should find those that don't have the tattoos and question them?]
Has anyone else been punished for hurting these ... books?
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Good luck finding someone without a tattoo who'll talk to you, Tsia! Sollux thinks even the staff might have them somewhere.
"Ugh, you know what, this is annoying. I'll be right back." He closes the book and turns.
"Wait right here." She won't understand his words, but the snicker ad he walks off might get through.
A couple minutes later Sollux returns with something in his hands. "This should work the same as it did for me...I think," he mumbles as he moves around to her side. He pauses for a moment, then sticks the worm in her ear. It can't feel good as the thing squirms its way in.
"There. You can understand me now, right?"
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"Well now we know."
Information is precious and sometimes hard won. Curiosity goes one step farther and she wants to know why burning a (pretend) book warranted such a reaction. Breaking arms and precious or expensive things, the guide could understand.
He suddenly leaves, with a bit of cackle and all of Tsia's attention is got. That same curiosity watches him as he returns with something in his hands. As though the little thing is going to escape.
"What is-"
Then he puts it in her ear.
She screeches and bucks against the stocks. It was like the wet willy from hell. It was cold and slimy and it was in her ear canal.
"What the He-" and she freezes. She understood him. She could hear him, and she knows that whatever slimy disgusting thing he just shoved in her ear canal is translating for her. "What the fuck!"
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Oh except for the death metal. But that was just more background noise to Sollux.
"Translator grub. Fuck if I know how or why it works, but its pretty useful.
"Where were we?"
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"What does it eat?" Or any other bodily functions of a bug she should know about that's sitting in her ear canal...
"You were just about to let me out of this contraption."
Never hurts to try.
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Then he smirks. "Nice try but no. If you can get out on your own then do it, if that thing is locked I'm not touching it. I know what happens to people who interfere with punishments. And I probably couldn't open that even if I wanted to."
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"If I could get out of here, I wouldn't be here asking that question. But, thanks. For this thing in my ear at least" She snorts, thinking. "Well, when does that big guy come back? Or is it someone else that lets us out?"
She can't imagine the robed figure wanted to be around when some of his charges got loose. It would be messy, at least Tsia thought it would be.
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"Somebody from the staff will let you out when your time is up. Until then you just wait, its not that bad."
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The smell from the bile was starting to get to her and burn the inside of her nose. She was trying hard not to think what was upon her back- she couldn't even image commands from the node to tell her body to produce painkillers-
"How long? Do you know? Can you bring me any water? Are there any grafts here? Healing packs?" She hasn't seen any, but it can't hurt to ask. "Or how to get one?"
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