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[closed] should've heard them knocked-out jailbirds sing
CHARACTERS: Bellamy, Murphy, Ilde, The Darkling and a special appearance from Y.
WHERE: Gamma Block Jail.
WHEN: DAY :050 - DAY :052
SUMMARY: Bellamy and Murphy spend two days in jail before Ilde and The Darkling bust them out.
WARNINGS: Violence.
WHERE: Gamma Block Jail.
WHEN: DAY :050 - DAY :052
SUMMARY: Bellamy and Murphy spend two days in jail before Ilde and The Darkling bust them out.
WARNINGS: Violence.
SPOOKY SCENE SET
She closes her eyes more firmly, face wrinkling, spots flashing in the darkness of her eyelids as she increases the pressure inside of her mind. She has only created such a vast illusion once, when the Darkling and Nate had startled her into shock. It hadn't been on purpose, and it had taxed her a great deal, but she is certain with his hand in hers -- feeding her power, she feels like a serpent swallowing egg after egg from the nest of some magic creature, growing and growing, filled with poison -- that she can do it again. She feels around in her own mind for the sensation. It was not a pleasant it, it was like straining a muscle, dislocating a joint, pinching a nerve; the pain of mistreating the body.
She finds it with a jerk, biting her lip to stop herself from making any sound for the way that it hurts. She opens her eyes and stares up into the ugly overhead lights as her symbiote begins to fumigate the hallway, her sickness crawling. Her face goes pale, eyes dilating as the fever of it begins to prickle up her throat, sweat beading on her brow.
She thinks of the dungeon she had known so well. The one she had been forced to walk through in order to reach the garden beneath the palace. The desperate, skeletal hands that would reach for her as she passed, the screaming from the mad, the screaming from those unlucky enough to have the Godking's attention in that moment. The darkness begins to spread up the walls, the damp smell of rot and decaying bodies. The hallways no longer seem so bright and safe, instead turning claustrophobic, caked in dirt and blood, strangled with lichen. All flesh falls away from all forms, tattered and desiccated on skeletons with empty eye sockets. Some hang limp from the walls where their hands were chained, others lie in puddles of bones on the floors of their cells.
Ilde tightens her grip on the Darkling's hand and pulls him with her as she moves closer to peak at if Murphy and Bellamy are handling this. The panic, the visions, the strident ringing headache that comes with the screaming of her symbiote. ]
( This way. Move. Run. Go. )
[ In this ugly illusion, her disembodied voice is more ghostly than anything else, she hopes they can manage to move their feet so she can send them ahead with Y, and get them out of range of her symbiote. She turns to the Darkling then, a nod, that the boys are at least out of the cell, that his piece of this terror can be initiated.
The shadows should be more interesting than the corpses, more dangerous at that with their fierce claws, their unnerving chittering, their ways of crawling up and down the walls, disappearing into the darkness of this underground place, their eyes everywhere.
Ilde pushes at the boys again: ]
( Go. Move. Run. )
cues up the dancing skeleton
That being said, he's never faced anything like this. Ilde's ripped nightmares from imagination and set them loose. Bellamy feels like he's drowning, choking on terror as his heartbeat accelerates. He's grabbed hold of Murpy's hand, as much to anchor himself as it is to keep Murphy from being swept away in the chaos. The chorus of screams from the inmates are deafening.
Bellamy's thoughts are a low, continuous reminder: This isn't real, it's not real, it's not— ]
( Don't let go. )
[ A single, deliberately projected thought strung between all four of them as Bellamy sets his jaw. There's sweat prickling at the nape of his neck as he shoves his way towards the disembodied voice. He can feel the Darkling like a beacon. Bellamy has always balked at giving himself entirely over to their bond, but he lets it pull at him, guide his steps as he and Murphy rush through the open door and down the hallway. ]
no subject
It seeps in so slowly that he doesn't notice the change. One second he and Bellamy are taking down one of the guards, a half-formed plan between them to take the man's uniform, the next--
He thinks he's back in Polis. The basement cell, the smell of dirt and blood and too many bodies. The screams from the people on the crosses outside. The sense of recognition lasts only a heartbeat before the horrors pile higher, pressure coming down on the edges of his mind, threatening to crush it.
But then there's Bellamy's hand grabbing his, Ilde's voice breaking through, and he knows fear. Not like this, sheer terror trying to wind its way into him, but enough to use it. To let it push him forward, follow Bellamy's grip on his hand out of the cell, running into more nightmare, an endless stretch of it until, between one footfall and the next, it's gone.
Murphy collapses against the wall, gulping air, mind reeling again at the sudden normalcy of the jail around him. Of the droid and woman next to him.]
Who are you? [He's asking, blurted, and then thinks better of it.] Wait, I don't care.
[They don't have time for questions. They need to get out.]
HI FRIENDS
Something multi-faceted, with limbs that should not move in such a terrible way, crawls down the length of the cell block. Herding and harrying the errant prisoner, the guard crying and clawing at her eyes. Broad shoulders, vast wings, and an insectoid-canid-human mouth that snarls in silence. Even among Ilde's illusions, the summoning is an abrupt, too-solid thing. The Darkling, clutching her hand and reaching his mind out to Bellamy, calling to him - demanding he come now, to their side, pauses in his urging to run the back of his hand across his nose.
His wrist comes away wet with his blood, a pain in his temple suddenly too sharp and too sudden.
( Push it aside. Call to Bellamy. )
Ilde's go-ahead means that the second half of their monstrous diversion is unleashed. Blood, bright and noticeable, streaks down his face as he drags creatures from unreality itself into existence. Looking upon them, they truly, honestly, are things that should be incapable of standing among the world as it was known. Chittering, climbing things. A trio of them, darting and jolting among non-allies. The Darkling's nose bleeds, and again, he swipes at it. The symbiote pulses like a heartbeat, a warning to reach no further. And the knowledge that his power has been limited - that he's been HOBBLED is infuriating. ]
Wonderful to see you. Let's leave.
[ His greeting is curt, derisive, as Bellamy and Murphy reach them.
( However, he hums, pleased, once he knows Bellamy is back at his side. ) ]
no subject
Whatever happens in the next hallway, a pair of boys come running around the corner. The jail birds are wide-eyed and sweaty, guards shouting behind them but not following. The itch to go take a peek is strong, but she doesn't want to get stuck down here any more than anyone else. Still doesn't stop her from giving the boys a sharp smile, ]
Charmers. I'm here to save the day.
[ Her eyes dart, to where the other pair are following behind more slowly, covering their tracks with who knows what. But then her eyes widen when she gets a glimpse of the shadow. Even her wildest suppositions about these freaks suddenly turned in a new direction. ]
You kids do like your secrets, don't you. [ That wicked razor of a smile, poker face unmoved. ] Follow me.
[ The droid falls into pace with them as their supposed chaperone. ]
no subject
( f̸̧̯̭͕͓̺̈́̎̍͑͞ö̶̼̲̤̹͉͕̩̦́̍̾͂̓̄̈̀̚͡l̴̢̧͍͉̖̜͖͉̏̔̃͐̋͢l͕͕̭̘̮͊̄͌̍͌̒̅͑ô̹͈̰͕̘̘͊͆̂͑͛w̵̢̻̜̼̲̭̰͐̈́̑͗͐̒̇̒͜ ḩ̴̯͚̮̗̰̠̿̓̈̍́͌̈̾͠͠e̡̛͖̦̞̮͛̾͑̒r̶̰̰̥̖̟͙̙͛̿̊̾͋͐̕ g̩̖̺̭̳̟̏͌̾͛̋̽̒́ơ̶͚̫̳̤͚̙̝͐́͆̔͆ )
no subject
They don't have the time. They still have the intake checkpoint and the train to deal with. His hands itch, wishing he'd had the mind to pick up one of the guard's tasers, but maybe the droid would be enough. Maybe Ilde and The Darkling would flip the fucked up shit they were manifesting forward, once they got close enough.
If Ilde lasted that long. Her voice in his mind hurts, and as he looks back over his shoulder at them he realises now it's not part of the nightmare she'd been smothering them in. It's Kylo Ren choking Mara, Bellamy's fractured wrist and sickness: actual, real pain pulsing through the connection.]
Hey.
[The impulse to reach out and grab Ilde's arm is there, but caution stops him. The feeling of her in his head is like a power conduit frying out, spitting sparks; instinct and repeated childhood lessons say to keep a distance.]
Hey, we're out. You can stop.
[It's not entirely true. They aren't out far enough. But he doesn't particularly want go the rest of the way carrying Ilde's corpse because her brain melted trying to help them.]
no subject
The bond is singing. There's no time for a proper reunion but the line between them blurs for a moment in relief as if their foreheads were touching. It's a good reunion. It's as if an ache in Bellamy were finally eased away.
And on the other hand, Ilde's mind is on fire. It reminds Bellamy of the chip again and Raven, writhing in agony in Niylah's bed. It's her symbiote. It's blowback. Bellamy can't take it away from her. ]
How far is it? [ He asks, directing the question to the group at large. He isn't sure how far they are from the Bearings anymore. Once they're out, how far could it be to safety and someone who can ease Ilde's pain before it breaks her? ] I can carry her.
[ The offer's preemptive; he doesn't think anyone would suggest leaving Ilde behind, but he doesn't want to have any kind of argument that would even glance off that sort of idea. ]
no subject
What kind boys.
He presses Ilde between the two of them, guiding her weakening body between the two of them
and not-so-gently
tearing his hand from hers. The connection between them snapping, his gift taken back from her grasp. ]
Don't let her fall.
[ She's done her part. He urges Y to lead on, and steps past Murphy and Bellamy - to bring up the rear and conduct the nichevo'ya like a maestro of violence and death. One guard falls, teeth savaging her leg, dragging her beyond sight. The panic that actual, physical violence induces is nearly as ravenous as Ilde's images. The Darkling, now, brings up the rear. Urging them to move along, before the guards rally. ]
no subject
[ Y gives a short bark at them as she works to switch their hijacked droid's specs, programming in relocations for the lot of them. Still remarkably cool for what is happening around her, but she is assuredly working as fast as she can. ]
Nose Bleed needs to wipe up, and she needs to walk.
[ She snaps the front of the droid's panel shut again with a flick of her wrist, doing a quick once over of it, of herself, of them. The boys have a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing that looks out of place after a few days in jail. She's not so sure about Saffron though, looking that bad they might try to send her to the infirmary first. ]
Figure it out quick.
[ Chirpily, disguising any misgivings, as she turns to follow the sec-bot. ]
no subject
She sags into the boys' arms, dizzy and shivering, but even as they tug her away she's peering over her shoulder calling, ]
( S̗̤̬̖̟̞͇̭͛̇̿̆̊̑̓̕͢͝h̹̱͇͍̯̄̌̍͌͢͝ͅȧ̴̺̭͓̞̪͎̘͙̜͌͑̔̿͗̉d͕̲̱͙̥̈́̊̅̄͛̾͗͒͘̕o̢̨̞͔̖̦͚̻̊̉͌̃͐w̛͕̠͙͕͉̱̩̩͐̆̋̉̍͊̽̀ͅ.̷̛̛̦̞͙̰̼̻̀̊͒̈͛͌̍ S̴̻̦̬̼͕͓̤̩͙͌̔̒̃̒̍̐͊͝ͅh̛̪̼̩̪̎͂̈̀̓̿͑̕͟à̴̧̛͇͍͉͍̫̈́͒̑͌̃͘d̴̪̜̱̦̭̞̘̘̀́̐́̀͑̀͢ơ̢̲̝̜̝̗̗͈̓̈́͌͋͘͜͡w̧̻͚̦̞̻͂̓́̔̀͝.̶̧̧̲͈̜̫͈̞͍͐͗̓̂̄͘͜.̷̨̧̺̹̭̖̙͈̙̓̍̈́͊̃̊̐̊.̹̰̲̖̹̗̻̿͒̍̕͠ͅ S̵̛̖͓̼̰̞̉̽̈̈̈̄̃̿͡h͇͉̹̺̲̲̋̉͗̒̿͞a̸̡̛̛̛͓̪̞̰̠̯͎̍̽̾̊͐̚d̬̼͓̳͓͒̐̏̂͆͛o̸͎͓̜͉̜͉͌͆̿́͌͒͝͠ẃ̲̳̜͓͇̯͇̋̍̂̒̔͐̊̔.̖̮̮̜͇͉̣̓̍̓́̂͆̆͗͜͡.͖͖̺̖̀͊̓͐̕̕͟.̶̛̙̩̭̦̯͇̹͚̈̂̊̓́̇̿́͟ )
[ As if concerned that they are leaving him behind. It takes someone call her name before she focuses in front of herself again. Shaking her head, trying trying to concentrate and get her feet under her, but at first all she can think is that she hates these stupid little booties they were given, lacking laces or solid soles so convicts could not take them apart into any meaningful materials. She can't grip the floor and wants nothing more than to kick them off. It's a stupid, aimless thought, something her fizzling brain wanders its way through before she can come back to the task at hand.
Trying to stand up on her own when her head is screaming, still pouring out a terrible, prickling, sense of dread that spreads itself out amongst the hosts like a plague. But as long as the guards couldn't feel it, that was what mattered, right? ]
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But now isn't the time for that. He concentrates on holding Ilde up between himself and Bellamy as they move forward, shooting a glare at Y for the collection of issued orders with no hand given to help.]
Yeah, I can really see why you brought her.
[Muttered, uncaring if Y hears him or not. But she's right. Ilde right now looks a hell of a lot like Bellamy when they'd been brought in, and the guards had wasted no time sweeping him away to medical.]
Here. [He shifts his grip on Ilde, catches Bellamy's eye in silent communication to do the same. Brace, not carry.] Focus on the floor, not your feet.
[It's what he'd done in the desert, endlessly marching onwards on Jaha's stupid quest. He doesn't know if it will work. But they need something to, quickly.]
no subject
We've got her.
[ An assurance for the Darkling and this Hacker, because he can already tell he doesn't need to reassure Murphy. Bellamy blots at the sweat on her face. His hands are steady, in spite of the adrenaline lingering from both fight and jailbreak. ]
Hey, listen to him. Be here.
[ Whatever aftereffects of her ability looked like, Bellamy knew how easy it was to get drowned in your own head. He's rushed but gentle as he wipes the sweat from her face, pushes her hair back from her hot forehead. He thinks of Octavia. Makes himself stop. ]
You can do this.
[ She had to do this. There wasn't another option. And they wouldn't leave her. She came down here to free them; it wouldn't be right to leave her here in their stead. He hitches a hand tight around her as they approach the checkpoint while his thoughts spin out towards the Darkling like a touchstone to reassure himself of his presence here and maybe to draw him in a step closer. Bellamy worries. They can't afford any mistakes. ]
no subject
However, if he has enough energy to quip back at the hacker, he has enough energy to carry on. Once more, swiping at his nose as his creations harry and hound the guards and errant inmate. Keeping them contained, at bay. Pressing them away from their traveling group, as the five of them ( plus one tottering sec-bot ) swiftly work their way back through the prison.
He urges Bellamy onwards, presses his hand between Bellamy's shoulders. Move on, move on. A little faster, now. Just - bringing up the rear. Keeping an eye on the situation. Things are going smoothly, for now. And he is unsure if the bond with the symbiote has caused any FURTHER harm, or limitation, of his own abilities. ]
Carry her, if you must.
[ That much, he aims at Murphy. Be her knight, pal. ;) ]
no subject
But she had had her feet under her, and she had walked all the same, because there was no other choice. There is no other choice now and she begins to filter away the reeling. Tucks it to the side where it continues to shriek so piercing, but she realigns all priorities down to what must be done: she must walk, she must leave this place with these men.
The disassociation is like being two people at once. The future and the past, overlaid with similarities, fighting one another where the seams do not match up. It flashes in her other hosts as well, the burned world. Its ashy skies, its evaporated earth, miles and miles of scorched brick, cities burning in the distance...
But she walks, dazed, with a support on each side. Their bodies on either side keep her from swaying, showing too obviously her disorientation, and the hands at shoulders, waist, elbows let her stride on fearlessly, even if she trembles as she walks.
But she walks. ]
( W̢̦̰͍͚̻̳͐́͗̃͂͘͞e̴̮͉̻͐̇̽̓̉̓́͜͜͟'̬͔̭͉̹̀͂̓́͐͑͛͟ḷ̶̤̫̜̗͍͉̯̙̬̀̌͊̉̾̊̌͋ĺ̴͔̭͙̭̜̂͊́̎̑̚͝͡͡ b̶̯͉̠̟̗̥̰̠̰̉̇͋̆̽̓̕͘͡è̶̡̙̘̹̻̺̘̈̏̀́͐̚͞ a̷̢̭͈̤͚̙̔̏̆̆̊͢ḻ̛͚̥̙̱̲̍̀̏͌͛̆̊r̢̢̮͓̱̦̫̊̓̓̀̃͂̾̊͞i͎̘͍͉̙̍̊̈͆̆̎͗͗̇̕͟ġ̢̧̧̛̞̜͚̮͔̩̀̈͒̊͛h̴̨̭̫̼̮̽͒̑̈̆͛͛͞ͅṯ̴̩̹̱̠͓̟͉̂͌͊̂̕͠.̤͔͚̲̬͚̟́̾̉͛͘͢ )
no subject
Something less immediately obvious than Nose Bleed's creatures. Did that mean the other two had some tricks up their sleeves as well? What were they then? Fucked up experiments, new evolution of mankind, aliens? She itches to know, but they're coming up on the checkpoint. She gives one last look over her shoulder, reminding these crazy cry babies that they need to hold their shit together just long enough to get back on the tram, and quickly before the chaos they've left behind them reaches ears here.
The process of the checkpoint is familiar now, and if the organic guards recognize them they think nothing beyond the idea that their transfers were finalized. They do, however, give the group a once over. The girl still looks like she might throw up any moment, and the guard asks without interest, ]
What's wrong with her.
[ And Y grins, her sideways knowledgeable smile. ]
First timer. She'll get used to the system in no time.
[ The guard scoffs, both at Y's cockiness and the supposed 'new convict' and what he quite honestly deems a pathetic reaction. He loses all interest from there, going back to his post while the bots finish their interface.
Everything clicks through, a little tune of acknowledgement and their hijacked security droids leads them back to the train... Y gives a jaunty little wave to the guards, playing the part of any smart ass who has been in and out of the cells too many times.
And they board the train. ]