ArchivedLogs:Respect

Respect
Dramatis Personae Anette, Ion	2017-08-08 "And there's zero risk?"
Location Prison, somewhere
Cramped and small, this thick-walled concrete room offers very little by way of comfort or privacy. There's a cot on one side with thin grey mattress, thin grey blankets, thin grey pillow. On the other side sits a lidless steel toilet with built-in sink atop it. There's not a whole lot by way of /room/, about six feet by eight feet. No windows to the outside, and a solid heavy steel door rather than bars; a barred window in the door is usually kept shuttered from without, as is the slot in the wall where a shelf protrudes and meals are often slid through. A single wan light in the ceiling provides dim illumination whenever the guards care to turn it on. That thin mattress is currently occupied though the blanket has been bunched up and tossed on the floor. Instead, Anette lays on her side, facing the wall with her wings draped over the side, attempting to sleep (not much else to do). Betwen her belly, having grown substantially since she's been locked up, and her wings, comfort seems to be a lost cause which is probably why she's still awake. Even self-care seems to have gone out the window, her hair is a tangled mess, her feathers more ruffled than usual, her barely fitting prison issued clothes hastily put on with no care given to her appearance. Apparently Anette has not taken well to jail. Most of the heralding signs that precede Ion's visit aren't easily detectable, to Anette. Flickering surges of electricity that course through the walls, shorting out the power-dampening mechanisms built into the prison. A brief flutter of power that ripples through the electrical wires of the building in a rapidfire mapping of its circuits. Eventually, though, an unsteady dimming of the lights in Anette's wing of the prison -- immediately before a cracklepop, a faint ozone scent, and then abruptly Anette is not alone in her cell anymore. Ion is dressed just about how he usually is -- jeans, sturdy tall boots, a plain black undershirt; his usual singed and battered Mongrels kutte has been swapped for a plain denim vest, the MMMC patch on it just a small unobtrusive one on one arm. A backpack slung over his shoulder. His eyes squint up, adjusting to the dim lights as he mutters under his breath: "Shit." Anette slowly twists her head up, tucking her wing out of the way to see past it as hears the faint crackling and smells the ozone. Not that either of those are uncommon here on a normal day. Her eyes widen slightly as she notices Ion and she carefully sits up, running her talons through her hair in a half-assed attempt to make it look presentable. "Is it time for my conjugal visit already? I mean, I'd have preferred Akihiro but I guess you'll do." She awkwardly sits up, resting a hand on her stomach as she silently looks over Ion, golden eyes taking in every inch of Ion, the first familiar face she's seen since she's been in here. "I was beginning to think you guys forgot about me," she adds quietly. It's hard to say if this is another joke or meant to be taken seriously. Ion just chuffs out a sharp breath, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah lo siento somehow that half-ass invite just not doing it for me." He unhooks his backpack from his shoulder, setting it carefully down on the floor with a clink of bottles. "Seriously?" There's a faint crackle around his arms, a harder tension in his muscles -- it doesn't really ease as he pushes away from the wall, pacing restlessly to the door. "You a sister." "Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me." Anette's interest peaks when she hears the bottles clink, eyes shooting down to the backpack Ion's set down. "Housewarming gifts?" She presses her lips together as Ion reacts to her concern and begins pacing. "Maybe by name. But I know I'm not the most beloved member. Besides, can you really blame me for worrying? I'm a bit...time sensitive." She gives her stomach a gentle rub before looking back up to Ion, concern evident on her face. "You are going to...before she comes, right?" "There's food. And soda." The tension in Ion's posture only grows at the rub of Anette's belly, another small crackle of energy skittering up his forearms. "You could skip out here with me right this second if you want." The offhand-casual of this offer is maybe offset by the fact it comes between gritted teeth. "And there's zero risk?" Anette asks dryly, slowly sits back down on her cot and leans her head against the wall. "Do you guys even have a plan?" Whatever hope she had when Ion arrived is beginning to visibly dissappear from her face. "What the fuck you want from us, Anette?" Ion finally turns to face the winged woman, eyes narrowed and jaw tighter, a hard crack of anger in his usually warm voice. "You goddamn /knowed/ the risk when you signed up for this life. I /stayed/ telling you this fuckshit selfish choice of yours gonna end like this and /you/ decide your /feelings/ are worth condemning that poor kid to this hell." His outstretched hand gestures sharp toward Anette's belly. "This is our life. We all gonna end here or dead and if you had half as much fucking respect for your brothers as we ever gave you maybe you'd get your head out your own ass and listen to anything anyone else /say/ ever. And you -- /you/ -- you couldn't even get yourself in jail for anything useful and now everyone else supposed to risk their life for your fuckups? Because you got collared in the middle of trying to get kids killed? Yeah, there's goddamn /risk/. /I'm/ take a risk even being here and it's safer for me than anyone. What plan would you make, huh? Which of us do you think gotta risk dying to fix your shitty mistakes? We put Dusk up against those Sentinels, maybe? Maybe B? Maybe Isra take a bullet here for you so that you keep up your mom-fantasy?" "Of course I know the risks!" Anette says, anger filling her own voice as she quickly rises back off her bed, though she stands her ground and doesn't move. "It's not like I fucking planned this, any of this! It was hardest fucking choice I've made and I've doubted it every day. And you're one to talk, you have no problem raising Dragon in this 'hell'. You /cannot/ fucking tell me there's literally no where else better?" At the mention of respect, Anette's eyes narrow and she finally approaches Ion, stopping with a foot of him though she doesn't raise a hand. "Don't you dare, I give you just as much respect. I would die for any of you. And believe it or not, I was trying to help. They got away, didn't they? Maybe it wasn't the best plan, it wouldn't be the first time I fucked up trying to do the right thing. But I tried /something/. What was I supposed to do, let the Sentinels shoot the kids for standing there? Run away?" She chuckles darkly and shakes her head. "And then you wonder why I was surprised to see you. I never asked you to come. But I am /not/ letting them take my child to be lost in a broken as fuck system, not knowing who they are or where they came from. Or worse, become some sort of...government program. Studied or tortured or...or god knows what!" She angrily turns her back to Ion, talons digging into her palms as she clenches her fist, her breath heavy and strained as she tries to control her emotions. "It's both of us or neither of us." "You /bailed/ on us because of your /shitty/ fucking decisions. Ain't /none/ of us ever ditched you on a mission to get goddamn shot but /you/, you and your bullshit ideas are more important than my life? Than /Isra/ life? And Kay he been in prison hella longer than your useless ass and I ain't /never/ heard you say a word about trying to help him." The crackle of electricity around Ion is growing, brighter, now. "And if you don't understand why the /fuck/ you did the /wrong-ass thing/ telling a group of /mutant kids/ to run from the cops, you gonna be an even shittier parent to that kid than I thought. And that's saying something." The mention of being studied or tortured draws a sharp /hiss/ from Ion. Hands balled into fists, he steps /back/ as if struck. Oddly, the anger now has drained from his voice, lower and heavier. "You really are sick." There's another crackle, and Ion is gone, the backpack he had brought with him left behind in his wake. "Why are you even fucking here then?!" Anette yells as Ion continues to berate her for her decisions, turning around to face him. "How was I supposed to know that was going to happen? Don't you think I felt like shit? That I felt guilty? What was I supposed to do, just let you abort my kid with your electricity because you couldn't find someone to cover me? Christ, I wonder why no one else wanted to join you?" This last sentence is spat out with malice, her anger beginning to take control. "I would have /gladly/ helped Kay out. I suppose the fact you've zapped here to me and not him is my fault as well?" When Ion finally snaps, Anette stands her ground until he dissappears. She holds herself for barely a second before she reaches down, picking up a bottle of a soda from the bag. Her talons pierce the plastic, and with an owl screech, she throws it as hard as she can against the door of her cell, the bottle exploding soda all over the door and floor. She immediately drops to the ground, kneeling with her wings flattened against her back as she sobs her frustration and anger out.