ArchivedLogs:The Cavalry
| The Cavalry | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2013-05-22 Immediately after dispatching of the guards. (Part of Thunderdome.) |
| Location | |
It's a basement, somewhere, that much is clear from the slightly musty-cool feel, the lack of windows, the stark-bare cement decor. What purpose this place originally served is hard to discern; something industrial, judging by the heavy reinforced eyelet hooks still set into the ceiling, now devoid of any loads to bear. Of late the place has been repurposed, though. Around two parallel edges of the room, sturdy cells have been constructed, heavy reinforced metal segmenting off large cage-like cells. The enclosures are largely identical: two sets of bunk beds with pillows, thin sheets, identical grey wool blankets. A pair of large covered bedpans, a bucket usually filled with fresh-ish water. The center of the room is divided in two. One half is large and open, a spacious expanse of cement floor and emptiness. The other half holds long trestle-tables, long benches, both riveted into the cement floor. The ceiling -- of the room, of the cages -- hold very noticeable dark security-camera bubbles. There is one door leading out of here, heavy steel that is securely chained and barred from the outside. It's a scene too common in these dark basement realms; creatures brought low and dirty and pathetic; Masque's wretched attempt to rise from his cot is doing an impressive impression of a mutilated corpse, his face wholly /broken/ and shattered, nose to teeth to jaw - his body as bad, so many horrific details they saturate into a nightmare; Nox, there on the ground by a small kitty pool of dirt, her bare body seared and ashen and lashed over with scarring white wounds. Jim is practically blocking the door with his ass, face-down on his knees one shoulder just inside the entrance, gouged into not like a man of bloody meat but a /tree/, the rough dark bark torn out in places to show greener interiors. Never mind what looks like white /bones/ speared through his torso - bloodlessly? - or the way his living-wood face has been split open from the cheek downward, bisecting his ear and cheek and jaw from the rest of the generally 'head' related features. It's almost entirely silent, save a soft... desperate... /sound/. Like a keen, shivering amongst the shadows. Ffffsht--THMLP. That would be the sound of Masque's body sliding off the bunk while Nox is /distracted/, though he doesn't so much /rise/ from it like he planned, as much as he simply manages to slip onto the ground and onto his shoulder. This elicits a sharp groan in pain that ends somewhat abruptly, though, as the fever-stricken man becomes, once more, aware of a number of fractures across his skull, bruised and swollen. The red coat Nox had returned to him slides off the bunk with him, and he reaches for it almost /desperately/ in his delirium. He fails, confused when wooden /things/ bandaged onto his broken fingers allow him little dexterity. But a brief struggle against gravity later and he's clutching it close to his chest with his other hand instead. Then, he is ready to make another attempt to stand. Only-- to have his eyes rolls back before he seizes, instead, sinking to the ground face first. One can see /why/ Nox is keening. A dirtpool that will not slide to the man who needs it and the man who needs it too large to drag. A seizing hobo who has no doubt split open the crude stitches he was given. She cannot prioritize in these conditions! She cannot prioritize in /her/ condition. If those glowing cuffs and collar were not in place, she might well just dissipate altogether. With that option closed to her, she leaves the pool to crawl towards Masque. He struggled with gravity. She struggles with trying to lever him onto his side to keep his airway clear. Then...to push him /back/ onto his side when the convulsions spill him forward again, this time trying to get him onto his back. With...little success. Each successive push becomes weaker. More helpless. More /frustrated/. If she had hair, she would tear at it. The clanging, unchaining, scraping of the door is a pretty /common/ occurrence around these parts. It's not quite time for the next meal but there it is! Maybe an infirmary-patient being returned. Maybe someone else being taken. Except that's not what appears at the doorway. Instead there are -- well, people. Unguardlike people. Some of them quite /familiar/, though, to some of the people in the cages. One of them is slim, dark-haired, green-eyed, NORMALLY bright-smiled but today Flicker is just -- flick. Flickflickflick. Moving. Examining. Probably triaging with the help of Joshua and the Hivenetwork. Jackson is dark-haired, today, too. Not particularly colourful. Black cargo pants, a dark blue t-shirt, black boots. Eyepatch. ... he does have makeup. It glimmers blue on his lips. He also has a remote in his hands and he's -- not pressing any buttons, because, he's /kind/ of worried about frying everyone accidentally. Possibly the hivenet is helping him on this one, too. "Uh --" Teeeeentative poke. Somewhere, a lock clangs. The skittish skinny teenager inside it stares at the unlocked door /warily/. But then /something/ is prompting Jax further in, with a quiet: "Oh, god." It might be the kids -- it's /probably/ the kids, his eyes /snap/ there -- but the keening draws him. "Hey -- hey. Hey. Heyhihey -- Ash can you. /Dirt/. He needs -- probably now." "Someone needs dirt? I'm your man!" Ash's voice proceeds him by quite a bit, getting closer and closer as he keeps chatting. "Ohhh. Does that mean you found Jim? Please have found Jim! I kind of need a Jim. Dang, this is like a horrific Christmas! All the people we could ever want and..." And then a dusty, dirty head peeks inside the cage, all brown, with brown hair and brown eyes and .. well, brown dirt covering him. "Hello! I'm Ash," He introduces himself to Nox, who seems to be a little more alert than the rest of them. "I'm here to help." And just like that, the dirt in the kitty pool starts lifting out and flowing through the air, moving to make its way to settle all around Jim's feet. Then, the earthbender starts to shimmy his way into the cage. "Jim, your ass, it's kind of in the way..." He admits, lovingly. And then there's a hug, on the side of the tree man. When the door opens, Nox stands frozen. Frozen but not entirely still. She's twitching like someone who /wants/ to charge the person who appears there while instinct keeps her back. Away from buttons, or nightsticks, or...or... At first she doesn't really recognize Jax, except to know him for someone who is /not/ about to kill them. This is a puzzling bit of information. Ash she doesn't recognize at all, though when he closes on Jim she fights her wobbly way to her feet, hands balled into fists at her side. Help? Here to help. "Y-yes," she whispers, filmy eyes shifting between the two. Flicker is missed, moving too quickly to see. But these two are talking and... "Help. Please. Masque. Blood in...in his ears. /Fever/. James...please." Her hands lift, wrists pushed forward and fingers curled back to show her glowing bracelets. "Guards?" Jim is an almost unnaturally silent entity on the floor; he does not breathe, nor is he warm to touch. But there are small movements on him, small /twitches/ of plant-fiber back muscle around the spikes sticking out of his back, his one good hand slowly dragging itself over the floor, his eyes just. Locked on Masque. The bastard is down here on his level. The ground floor. Slow, slow blinking happens over his denim-blue eyes - /these/ are still human in the otherwise mess of fucked up kindling. He doesn't seem to notice Ash, though he jostles and /winces/ from it. But beneath him... gradually creeping outwards, roots begin to seep into the soil. Not just from his feet, but seemingly any part of his body lying upon it is just giving up, collapsing downward into the dirt. His mouth opens. Then closes? Eyes finally rolling towards Ash. The look on his split wooden face, at seeing the young man here... is frozen. Jackson's attention is still /darting/ away -- across the room, towards the cage with the teenagers in it. But he draws in a deep breath and focuses. "The guards are gone," he says quietly, stepping into the cages. "We're getting you all out of here, OK?" He crouches by Masque, frowning down at him. "/Aloke/ --" This is a louder call, urgent but not sharp. Just firm. "We're taking you home. We have medical care. Food. Clothes. But it's all -- you're going to have to come with us. -- Mngh." Jackson frowns between Jim and Nox. "Nox. Come with me. Please. Your -- friend," he looks down at Masque, "is going to vanish in a second. He's being taken somewhere safe. Jim --" His teeth sink down into his lip, and his expression tightens -- mostly to keep from crumpling. "-- Hive's outside. Waiting. To take you home." "Come on Jim, soak up all of that lovely dirt..." Ash keeps talking quietly to the tree, scooping up dirt covering his underside with it. "Look, I can probably carry him out of here, but it's going to mess up the cage and I'm a little afraid to do so while everyone is inside." While speaking, he steps away from the tree man and looks to where the cage is secured to the ground. Hands outstretch and twist, slowly cracking and obliterating just the connections. "I swear you're safe now. I'll get you all ice cream cones if you want! It's kind of a wonderful way to celebrate leaving a horrible place." "Ja--Mister. Mister Holland." There, Nox has it! Several minutes after the man has arrived and begun inspecting Masque and called in reinforcements, true. But she has him now. It stirs certain memories. "Boys. Your...boys. Alive. They have...they are /with/. Mine. My boy. Please." Priorities, yes? Masque is receiving attention, Jim is receiving attention--though she keeps that look of slight puzzlement for Ash--and the door to the cage... "Safe...the guards. Gone." She could be triaged as walking wounded...or walking dead, given the shamble that carries her towards the crude eating area, where others are no doubt being shepherded through in similar states of dazed and befuddled. As she goes, she begins to pluck at the bracelets. They whiten her fingers to the shade of dried bone but she continues to pick at them. Pick, pick, pick. Jim is sinking greedily into the dirt, the stability of it familiar, cool, removed. It allows a few more braincells to shake free and rub together - which means Jax is given the /hairiest eyeballing/ a man face-down on the ground with their face split open will /ever give him/. Mouth opens - a gruesome process as the shard of his cheek /doesn't/ move with the rest of his face - and then closes again... almost. It looks like his lips are forming an 'f' sound. Or maybe a 'v'? He's shakily lifting his head, to try and look out beyond the bars at the absurd universe beyond this cell. And then /clamps/ a hand down on his collar and /yanks/ at it, teeth /snarling/. "Jax, yes." Jackson fiddles at the control of the remote again. Jim's tearing is made a lot easier by the collar unlocking. Nox's, next, and /he/ reaches tentatively to take the collar and cuffs /off/ of her. "There's a van outside," he says. "It's real bright out there, Nox. If you give me a bit I can help you out. Without the sun." There's a flicker of light through the cage, a man there for a moment, and then gone again. With Masque in tow, vanished from the cage floor. "The guards are gone, yes. And once you get out I can get Jim some light -- um. Jim. You want. -- We can take you. To a garden. To rest." Ash has to stop talking as he concentrates. The concrete breaks and grinds itself, then begins to lift, neat and tidy little cones left on the bolts attaching the cages to the ground. He spreads his feet a little and grunts, then liiiiffts the cage clean off the ground, looking around for a very safe place for him to deposit the useless thing. It is lifted high enough so that no one needs to duck when he rids them of it. "Hm. There." He dusts off his hands as he finishes his work then turns around, thumb rubbing against his chin as he examines Jim. "Jax, I got Jim. Don't worry about him." He funnels more dirt from under the concrete, out of the holes he just made onto Jim's body, underneath him and around him, until there's a pretty decent carpet of the brown and gray stuff underneath him... actually beginning to lift him. He keeps pulling more dirt underneath him now, which is easier now, because there's more 'underneath' to use now that he's airborne. The moment the lights go out on her restraints, Nox almost disappears! Almost. She fades radically, as if startled, a reflex action--then blips back in to blankly stand for Jax's removal of the items. Once gone, the woman studies the blanched skin left behind. "...no sun. Yes," she murmurs, still shell-shocked. Masque's departure is marked with a flinch as that flash of light goes zipping by...and then she stands gape-mouthed and wide-eyed, observing the removal of the cage entire. Were she the swearing sort, she might well mark the occasion. Instead she stands there, risking debris raining down into her mouth. Now, at least, she can fade out to avoid it though. A fact she seems to remember as Ash begins to pack earth around Jim. She goes smudgey where she stands, more the ghost of a woman than a proper captive. A biddable ghost, at least, who will direct herself where she's told to go...so long as the way remains clear of guards. Jim /throws/ the fucking collar accross the ground, the rough surface it had been containing charred black. Being lifted up, he /blinks/, bouldering up some muscles in his back to prop up onto an elbow - looking for... Masque. Gone. Then at Nox, then /past/ Jackson again where the children had been staying, eyes skipping haphazardly over the people now present in these grim surroundings; some he knows. Some he does not. But he eases slowly, and only makes a - gesture at Jackson, his eyebrows crumpling up, that looks almost like 'don't make me /strangle/ you'. This gesture might also be his personal Jim-sign for someone. Because he tries mouthing again, more urgently. It cold be the world 'half'. Or maybe 'cough'. Jackson's brow furrows, deeply. Slowly around Nox, there is a growing pocket of darkness, shielding from the daytime lights overhead. He watches Jim's gesticulating uncertainly, but then: "The van. Outside. Ash, take him outside." He is not in the habit of raising his voice, but his tone sounds like: now. "... Aloke can go plant him /after/." After the teary REUNION LOVIN's. He offers his arm to -- well, the pocket of darkness. "C'mon. Let's get you out." "And off we go. Sorry, Jim. I don't speak Tree Sign. Maybe we can get you out to Hive and he can tell us what you're trying to say." Ash finds his floating dirt mattress thick enough and starts moving it, with him, out toward the exit, looking around every so often for other people to help or signs of danger. It may be Christmas to Ash and he's taking home his tree, but it's still not the best place in the world to be. Out they go! Nox doesn't take Jax's arm so much as cling to it. Fortunately, as that darkness begins to gather, she just...disappears into it. Even her feet, which no longer appear above the ground. This makes her the lightest burden ever to carry. The lightest and the oddest given the disturbed hive buzzing that comes through the points of contact established between man and woman. Only he would feel it but there's an odd sense of hollow restraint in that humming--of numbness wearing off, to be replaced with who knows what. On their way now, Jim just closes his eyes. They kind of... roll back in his head, really. And, settling into his dirt, he takes a ride on the Ash-train. Because /Ash/ understands him. | |
