Prison

Peter

...Fan-freaking-tastic. Oh well...this would all be over soon enough anyway... It couldn't take too much longer...right...?

And...it wasn't like the effects of that toxin were permanent or anything...right...?

"You know..." I spoke, "Danae wouldn't be very pleased with you if she found out what you were doing..."

"If." Mason quipped, stepping back to the table and seeming to consider his options. "Who to say she will?"

With that in mind he picked up what resembled just a normal, every day fire poker, twirling it on his hands s be stepped back closer to Peter.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Peter

I glared for a moment, then suppressed a resigned sigh. I didn't answer him, though.

"And if she came down here?"

I didn't know what the odds of that were, but...I could always send Sesria to find her soul. Then her soul could just give her the suggestion. ...Of course, that wouldn't be necessary anyway...because this was going to finish soon, right...?

...Some interrogation this turned out to be. He'd only asked me a few questions...

((Well Peter... o3o you did make him mad. ))

"She doesn't come down here if she can help it." Mason replied, giving a small shrug of his shoulders as he seemed to consider Peter for the hundredth time.

The problem was, he needed to know how to hurt this boy. In the case that the boy ever hurt Danae, he'd need to know how to pay back ten fold. That's the real reason for not just simply questioning the child and letting him on his way.

Yet, there was also the factor that Peter had managed to break through an girl who'd surrounded herself in something like an armor, trying to keep anyone from touching her heart. He seemed to have done this though, and so curiosity also fueled Mason's examination of the boy, a want to know exactly how he'd done this.

"Daniella hates this place, the pour souls here left to rot normally, which is why you're here instead of up there. Most likely we'll be done before she even considers coming here."

That said he pursed his lips, then simply swung the poker at one of Peter's knees, once again testing to see what his reaction would be.

Peter

I dodged again. He still hadn't restrained my ankles, after all. I figured I was just making him even angrier, but I honestly didn't care. I had to get back at him somehow, anyway, and this was about the most I could do. ...And really, it was his fault for not restraining me completely. Did he think I was just going to let him hit me?

Of course, if he hadn't thought of holding me all the way before, I was almost certain he was thinking of it now.

Mason scowled, the poker sending a loud dong through the cell as it bounced off the stone behind Peter. His eyes snapped back to Peter, still not to highly concerned about the boy's ability to move. After all, the faster the blood flowed in his body, the faster the toxin spread. So perhaps getting him to move like that was a good thing.

Normally, with a perfectly calm prisoner, it took around fifteen minutes to take effect. But say that one was moving around... trying to avoid getting hurt...

Well then.

A smirk stretching across his face, Mason took another swing at Peter's knee, willing to wait until the boy couldn't dodge anymore.

Peter

I moved out of the way again, though I was starting to feel a little bit slower. I'd barely dodged in time with that one. And the numbness was already spreading from where he'd first injected me...great. Well, that explained the lack of restraints. He must've just been waiting. That smirk pretty much verified it... The bastard. I wanted to wipe that look right off his face.

Mason started to chuckle after a moment, the smirk growing bigger as he waited, tapping the poker against his only leg patiently. Once he was satisfied that enough time must have past, the smirk turned into a self-satisfied grin as he drew the bar back, almost over his shoulder.

"Are you done moving? I'd like to be done here soon, I have more important things to be doing."

That said, Mason swung forwards once more, that grin growing bigger and bigger.

Peter

This time, I couldn't move at all. That numbness I mentioned before? Yeah, numb was the wrong word to use. Useless, but not numb. This...definitely had feeling. I bit back a shout, gasping, my breath coming in quick and shallow. Hot pain stabbed at me, but...I'd had worse...I'd still had worse... This was nothing...

"Having fun?" I managed through gritted teeth.

Mason smirked, glad to know it seemed he'd finally made enough pain to have some kind of effect. That in mind, he simply walked back over to the cart without answering, and dropped the poker on it. Checking to make sure he had everything else, he loaded up any weapons that had been left lying about, then walked back over to Peter and reached up to undo the cuffs.

"That should do for now." He practically purred, stepping back and looking him over. "Perhaps I should set you up with some company, seeing as its always good to have someone to talk to."

Peter

My arm fell limply to my side once he unlocked the first cuff. When the unlocked the second, I crumpled to the ground...which sent a whole new wave of pain through my knee. I lay where I fell, of course; it wasn't like I could actually, you know, move.

"What, you're not even done?" I practically growled, glaring up at him as best as I could from my current position. I wanted to curse at him, but I was pretty sure that wouldn't help anything. So I kept the thought to myself. This was bullshit.

And who was he sending in? Some other sadistic guard?

Mason smirked, turning his back to Peter and walking over to the cart, tugging it towards the door.

"Not nearly," He replied, pausing to open the door, then hold it with his foot as he shoved the cart out, then turned to face Peter once again. "I'll send the guards down with your new cellmate soon enough, they'll have to wake him and get him... prepared to cooperate with the movement."

That said, Mason slipped out the door, leaving it to shut and lock automatically behind him.

Peter

Fan-freaking-tastic. Great! Just great. Wasn't even freaking done yet, and he was already going off to do who-in-the-hell knew what. Not even freaking done yet! And I'd thought this wouldn't...shouldn't have been too long. Of course I'd been wrong about that. Of course!

The room started to spin a little, along with the contents of my stomach. Sharp prickles began to run through me. More of the toxin, probably...

...He wouldn't have given me anything deadly, right? He'd freaking abducted me for questioning, after all, and you couldn't question a dead person... I tried to reassure myself with that knowledge. It didn't do much.

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. At least I could still move those parts...

Dante Lauds glanced at the boy held limply in his arms, hesitating slightly outside the cell. He knew that if he wanted to he could walk out of the cell block right now, perhaps out of the prison, without one question being asked. After all, who would doubt poor Lauds, the man who was basically the Blake's lap dog, and consequently Mason's as well.

No. He wasn't possibly one of the rebels. He would never risk his life like that right? His family's lives?

...right.

Sighing to himself he dug the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door with the hand he could free from under the child's form. Once he was sure he'd unlocked the door, he placed the key away once more, and opened the door, his hand automatically falling back to his belt where the tazer lay.

Better safe than sorry...

He glanced at the figure in the back of the room, hesitating once more before dropping the new boy unceremoniously on the stone floor. Without another word he left, deciding it was for the best.


************************
FF

Peter

I heard the door click and swing open. I looked in that direction, but I couldn't see much. A thud! as the kid hit the floor, footsteps, the door again, and then nothing. And then more nothing. The boy must've been unconscious... Oh well...

I sighed again. There really wasn't anything I could do now but wait... I decided I might as well sleep until the toxin had worn off.

...That is, if it was going to wear off...

I tried to push the thought aside, closing my eyes.


((One FF later...))


I slowly blinked open my eyes again, startled right away at the sight of the gray walls. Then I remembered. So it hadn't all been a dream... I really was here, deep underground, in a prison. Great. I tried to get up, realizing partway through the action that I was actually moving again; an audible sigh of relief escaped me. It was little consolation considering my present state, but it was something. And something was better than nothing.

I got to my hands and good knee--the other was still aching--and looked over at the kid. So he was still out... Feeling a good deal of pity, I made my way over to him, sat beside him, and started to check for injuries. He could've damaged something when that guard dropped him on the floor, after all...

The boy slowly began to wake, groaning a little as his head throbbed where it had smacked the stone. His eyes slowly fluttered opened, just about the time he realized he wasn't alone. As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, the child scrambled back, eyes locking on Peter with something not entirely fear.

"Who... who're you?"

Although his voice didn't completely betray the fear, the slight trembling of his body did. If he'd learned anything from the short time he'd been in here so far, it was not to trust anyone.

Even other prisoners.

Peter

"I'm not going to hurt you," I told him softly. Poor kid looked scared...which was understandable, of course... "I was trying to see if you were alright, actually... Are you alright?"

I realized that with all black clothing, I might've even looked like a guard. Not that I knew if finding a guard leaning over you upon waking up would actually happen here...

The little boy frowned, a stubborn look coming onto his face as he straightened himself up, as if trying to prove he wasn't scared. This effect was thwarted by his continued trembling, unable to completely convince himself that Peter was someone he could trust.

"T-that's not a answer." He replied, an almost accusing tone to his voice. "Who're you?"

It wasn't like he was going to inform the stranger of his aching head, or the fear that was making his stomach twist as if wanting to toss up the little food it held. That would be a weakness he couldn't justify giving away.

Peter

"My name's Peter..." I started. "I'm...not here of my own will, either..."

I clenched my fists at the thought... No. I wasn't going to acknowledge that I was any sort of captive. I wasn't one... I was only here until this whole stupid freaking interrogation was done, and then I was gone. That was it. I wasn't a captive...

The boy narrowed his eyes just slightly, scooting back into a corner of the cell, careful to avoid backing himself into the small cot that sat there. The trembling relaxed slowly as he sat there, feeling more comfortable wedged between the wall and the cot.

"...Pit." He offered, barely loud enough to be heard.

It wasn't like that was too big of a deal, after all, it wasn't even his real name. It's just all the people here got to know about him, he made sure of that. Still... it wasn't like he could hide from the guards who he was, or the ones who ran the place.

But... it wasn't unlikely that some of the prisoners knew who his brother was... and it also wasn't unlikely that those who did, didn't have very happy memories of him. So... it was best to be safe.

Safe...

At that thought he almost laughed, the thought as ridiculous as it was. Still, he tucked his hands into his lap, flexing them slowly. There were a few things he could avoid. That... being one of them.

Peter

"Nice to meet you..."

Sort of hollow words, almost. A formality. There wasn't a single nice thing about this situation... We were both trapped in here... I felt bad for him, though; he wouldn't get to leave. And...I certainly knew what it was like to be held against your will all alone in the dark as a child... I wasn't positive, but he could've been right about the age I'd been then...

Pit hesitated, studying Peter a bit more before dropping his eyes and muttering a response, "Yeah, same here."

His face said it was anything but, hands were still clinched tight in his lap as he tried to think of something to say. Finding nothing he raised his eyes again, and decided to just put it out there, instead of beating around the bush to the question.

"What are you?"

The words were spoken as if he expected Peter to know exactly what he meant, and only a bit of hesitation crossed his face as he raised his hand, showing the back of it. Burnt into the skin was what appeared to be a simple hour glass on its side, in the middle of a circle.

The brand of the freaks.

Peter

That was a nasty mark...to put it lightly... I'd seen brands from here before, of course--well, a brand--but still... I wondered what it was supposed to signify.

"Uh, what do you mean...?" I asked.

I was used to answering that question with my species, but I didn't know this place to have any other species besides human... Status...?

Pit frowned a little, his brows drawing together as he lowed his hand into his lap again. For a moment he looked at Peter, sure that he must be joking. Even the 'normal' children of Destance knew what the brands were, where they were placed. It was only safer, so that they knew who to report when they saw it.

"Why are you here? What's your brand?" He demanded, all hint of the fear gone now.

Peter

Okay...I'd thought that was what he'd meant.

"I don't have one..." I answered. "I was taken here for questioning..."

I certainly wasn't going to say what was being asked of me--hell no. As it was, I had no idea how he'd react to what I'd just said...

((Gah short...))