[closed] should've heard them knocked-out jailbirds sing

[wrackful]

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.

Comments

[deployed]

[ Bellamy hadn't trusted the hacker before, and he only barely trusts her now. The Darkling wouldn't have her along if she weren't a threat, and the brief, appraising look is aborted when the Darkling's presence drags at Bellamy's attention.

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. ]

[unsea]

[ The connection between he and Ilde burns, singeing his untempered nerves as she falls back within herself and consume her consciousness. She is unwinding in his grasp, held aloft by the way his arm winds around her shoulders and hauls her up. His hand still clutching hers - pouring himself into her power and holding her aloft. With her ability amplified, and his own stretched thin between her and the ravenous monstrosities prowling and chittering, hides chitinous and slick with shadow and unreality, his nose bleeds freely and he nearly - very nearly - snaps at Bellamy. Bellamy, who is offering to hold her. Murphy, who's hands seem to tremble, eager to support her.

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. ]

[erbier]

You all need to fake it well enough to get through the check point.

[ 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. ]

[erbier]

[ She doesn't want to be let go. She wants to stay where she is and fill this dungeon with the images in her mind, with the shadows in his heart. Turn everything to screaming and ash. That's the only thing this much fire can mean. At least, that's what her loosening grasp on the situation says to her. It's for the best that the Darkling lets her go, it breaks her concentration and the illusion wavers at its edges before shrinking in size, soaking back up in to her. A better, easier, end to the trance than the last time it had come upon her.

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? ]

[wrackful]

[Ilde's nightmares dissipate as the Darkling dumps her into their arms, even if the sense of her still rings in Murphy's head like a siren, an unending cry of warning. The shadow monsters aren't gone. The shadows are the Darkling's, and between that and the way both Bellamy and Ilde seem to flow towards him like a current, Murphy's impression of the man carves even sharper with distrust.

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.]

[deployed]

[ Ilde doesn't weigh very much. Bellamy's thoughts blur between Monroe-Harper-Octavia as he shakes out the sleeve of his jumpsuit. She's hurting. Bellamy can't block out her pain. All Angel's teaching falls apart in the end, because Bellamy's too emphatic for anyone's good. ]

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. ]

[unsea]

Such a charming woman. [ Not.

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. ;) ]

[erbier]

[ The desert. She catches the very ephemeral edges of the reminiscence, like hearing the outline of a whispered word. It makes all the difference, that image: the wasteland. Her entire perception of the situation changes, turning back the clock to the little girl she was a long time ago. The barefoot girl in the wastelands, following her caravan, step after step. She had been so helpless then... Every moment had been death and thirst and hunger, exhaustion, terror.

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.̤͔͚̲̬͚̟́̾̉͛͘͢ )

[erbier]

[ Y can hear them, fussing and muttering behind her. She doesn't turn to eye them, but she listens. Saffron hasn't said a word in a long while now, but they keep talking to her. Trying to coax her out of whatever the fuck is happening: Hey, we're out. You can stop.

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. ]