tampered | [closed-ish] i'm not scared of myself

Instructions: Tell me what you were doing when you were kidnapped.

Penny & Harry & Dean
[ Although her captives likely are not imagining as such, it's a nice basement. It hasn't been set up as another living space, but it is finished and it is clean. For now, anyway. That really depends on Carla's moods when dealing with them. Still, while the concrete floor may be a bit chill under bare feet, the temperature is comfortable. There are no deathly smells emanating, nothing beyond fresh paint, as there are no secret corpses bricked into the walls. That was a messy disgusting business and Carla just wants to have fun. Unfortunately for You her pleasure is another's pain. The rigs are simple, but effective. Eyes covered and arms stretched up above the head uncomfortably. A captive may be able to feel the interworking sets of restraints, some that lock with keys, and others wrapped around them. ]

Jimmy
[ This one is upstairs, but truthfully no more comfortable than the others. There is a scent, however: someone's perfume, faint in the room and there's the warmth and brightness of sunshine coming from a nearby window. ]

Instructions: Pick whichever day(s) you want and however far into your torturing you are! Give me a sense of where your character's headspace is at, and Carla will be down to make it worse presently.

Edited 2013-10-25 17:51 (UTC)

[ One by one, she plucks them from their meathooks and takes them back out into the world, the cold air of an Autumn morning biting at already distressed bodies, underdressed for this. Carla's handling is swift and rough, and she drops them like newborns back to the earth. Now that they are no longer dangling, shoulders screaming, they may have better luck wriggling out of their restraints. ]

Harry: In the labyrinth.
Penny: In the graveyard.
Dean: Edge of the forest.
Jimmy: Behind the church.

Instructions: Carla will wish all of you to 'have a nice day : )' but you're on your own now.

Edited 2013-10-25 17:54 (UTC)

[There're a couple of things Jimmy thinks he knows -- the first, that he's all alone in the room, except when his tormenter is there, and the second, that his tormenter is, likely, a woman. That strikes him as strange, but then, all of this strikes him as strange, and he can't puzzle it all out, not with his arms stretched over his head and blindfolded like this. Despite his assertions only days before that he wasn't afraid to die, this is something else entirely, and he's not above trying to get out of the situation in any way possible. Which is why, even though he's certain there's no one there, no one listening, he's still trying to get someone's attention.]

Hey, c'mon, let me out, I'll do whatever you want, just... just fuckin' let me go, okay?

Dean was going for a run. He could keep fit and check out the lay of the land while he's at it, so it's a win/win situation, right? He was wearing sweatpants, because he doesn't do shorts, socks, runners and a short-sleeved t-shirt, which have a V of sweat, front and back, after the first five miles. He paused to do some stretches and take a moment to have a few sips from his bottle of water. Then he closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. The air was so clean in this place.

[Penny is released from the hospital on the twenty-second and the early evening hours find her on her way home to the Welcome Center. She could have left the hospital earlier, honestly, but after everything that led up to Jimmy's death on the thirteenth, she was just feeling... scared. The hospital seemed like the safest place to be.

She's still jumpy. The zombie-things are gone, supposedly, and she hadn't heard anyone talking about monsters today, but fear is a difficult emotion to shake. The City isn't safe, especially not in October, and she doesn't want anyone else to get hurt on her account. Not that she's keen on being maimed or anything. That might be slightly preferable to seeing someone else get his or her throat ripped out, just not by much.

Every movement in the evening shadows makes Penny's pace pick up. She's so busy looking over her shoulder for a pursuer that she neglects to watch for dangers ahead...]

[Existing in a non-stop state of panic is tiring. As such, Penny, who hasn't stopped panicking since being abducted on her way home from the hospital, finds herself slipping into a more subdued and less wearisome sort of fear by the time she has determined that, yes, she is attached to the wall by her arms and, yes, she has been blindfolded. It's like this whole month is conspiring against her. Work stress, vague fear at the beginning of the month escalating to full-scale freaking out by the time the mirror monsters began showing up, Jimmy's throat being ripped out by a crazy person, a zombie invasion...

Okay, so it's not conspiring against her specifically, but it sucks regardless.

She's quiet initially, afraid to draw attention to herself just in case there's something present that's just waiting to attack. But what if she's alone and won't get out unless she catches someone's notice? (What happens if she starves to death or something here? Would she come back in the same place and just keep dying?) As panic threatens to take over again, she decides to compromise.

In a timid whisper:] Hello?

[Dean has a headache the size of Texas, which is pretty damn big. It didn't take him long to figure out he was blindfolded and secured in a place that actually smelled clean. He tried his bonds, of course, but couldn't get free. Shit. He had a moment of panic, wondering if he was in Hell, but the last time he'd been there, he'd been the one doing the torturing -- after thirty years of being tortured. He was assessing how he was attached to the wall and listening for clues about his location when he croaked out...]

Hello? Anybody home?

[His throat was so dry...]

[It's nice to hear a familiar voice while being held captive in a basement. Well, for a given definition of nice. It'd be nicer if Penny hadn't heard Dean being secured to the wall.]

Hey, Dean. [Her voice is hoarse and her attempt at levity isn't exactly convincing.] Let me guess... you're not here to do the rescuing thing.

[His head turns sharply toward the voice, even though he can't see her.]

Penny? Shit. No, I'm not part of a rescue, sorry, sweetheart.

Are you... hanging from the wall?

Don't be sorry, okay? You're just as stuck here as me.

[Although she kind of appreciates the company, as selfish as that is.]

Yeah... you too?

[ Harry had a rough weekend; when some of the citizens were turned to monsters, he found himself the prey of a vampire. Though bitten, he did manage to get away - though not without a broken arm to show for the trouble, fractured near his wrist. There's a cast on that now, a small one on just the forearm and over the wrist, and a bandage covering the bite on his neck.

He was held overnight, released Monday, and the following day he decides to go out and get himself a bit of fresh air. He's still worn down, and though his injuries are beginning to heal, he's certainly weakened by them. Still, a bit of exercise and some time outside are always good for the healing process. ]

[ Harry is doing his best to remain calm. Uncomfortable is far too mild a world, the restraint particularly rough on his injured arm. He's long since stopped railing against it, instead gently testing each individual direction he can move each limb and studying the resistance against it, trying to build a solid understanding and envisioning of his situation. It's more easily said than done, really.

Darkness has never bothered him before, and it's not the factor that disturbs him now. Instead, he uses it to focus his other senses, to stay as calm as possible. It's not easy, but he's been through enough terrible situations that he's able to keep his calm better than most.

And then he hears the whisper - he can even place the voice, heard on the network. ]

Penny?

[ Another captive. He wondered how many there were. ]

[She's slightly alarmed when someone answers her by name. Penny's usually fairly good at remembering names but, with fear chasing her thoughts in circles, recalling the name that goes with this voice takes time.]

...Harry? How long've you been here?

[ He takes in an unsteady breath before he answers. ]

That's... a little hard to say. Hours. I'm not sure how many.

[ It hasn't been days yet. He knows that. ]

[ Harry does, indeed, manage to writhe free of his restraints, his good hand first - he uses it to pry the coverings from his eyes, blinking back the sudden daylight, and then to desperately work at freeing his injured hand. Even as his eyes begin to adjust, to take in the light that he hasn't seen for days, his disorientation doesn't abate. He gasps in the fresh, open air, glancing around him, and seeing only... corn. No sign of his captor or where she's gone, no indication of which way he should go, or even where he presently is - only tall, dense stalks of corn in each direction, pathways cutting through it that become obscured a short distance away, their eventual directions unclear.

Freed of the last of his restraints, he stands, a bit unsteady, and looks for his device. Can't blame him for trying - though maybe it will find his way back to him, as they seem to do. ]

I'm so sorry.

[Like she's not strung up on a wall, too. Apologizing is easy, leave her alone.]

Are you okay? I mean... as okay as anyone can be. Here.

Yep.

[He shook his restraints, frustrated.]

Very securely attached to a wall. And blindfolded.

Yeah-- other than the obvious.

[ Testing one restraint, gently, studying the way it responds to his motions... limited as they are. ]

Though I'm sorry to have company. [ Not that a friendly face isn't some small comfort, but the fact that she's here just like him is hardly comforting. ] Do you have any idea where we are?

At least there's no one else here. No one who isn't trapped, I mean. Whoever took us.

[Penny hasn't even bothered testing her restraints. People don't attach people to walls if they want them to get away, and what would she be able to do if she could get down? Hide in a corner and cry?

Actually, as far as ideas go--]

Other than somewhere dark? I don't know. The paint smells pretty new, so... that narrows it down to just about anywhere.

[Okay, that was a little confusing, but he can tell Penny is doing her best to cope with the circumstances.]

So, the person who abducted us isn't here right now? Have you spoken to them at all? Do you know who they are?

[He tested his restraints again.]

Is it just the two of us?

[Chekov is walking backwards. Not for fun, mind--although there's nothing else to do for fun in a magic, endless corn maze--but to try to determine where, exactly, whatever is interfering with his old-fashioned compass is. He's narrowed it down to a general area and is keeping himself occupied by pacing forward and back, watching the needle spin.

Until his foot hits something and he falls back with an undignified yelp.]

`Tchyo za ga`lima! ...Harry? Harry Kim?

[ One step at a time. First the restraints, then they can see what they're dealing with in terms of the room in which they're being held. The particular mix of Starfleet training and earnest determination that comprise Harry Kim just doesn't allow for the option of quitting. ]

I guess you didn't catch any of how we got here either, then. Sorry.

Do you know how long you've been here?

[Her best isn't that great. Sorry, Dean.]

I... yeah, I did. I spoke to a woman, but I don't know her. I don't want to know her.

No. Harry's here too. Harry Kim.

[Asleep? Unconscious? Being tortured? Staying out of the conversation? Who knows!]

[closed-ish] i'm not scared of myself

i. 20th - 23rd

ii. 20th - 26th

iii. 26th

Re: ii. 23rd maybe?

Re: i. 20th - 23rd -- > in case I'm supposed to choose...the 23rd?

> Late on the 22nd, if that works?

> Late on the 22nd and on

> the 23rd and onward

23rd

23rd

23rd

Early on the 22nd good?

> Late on the 22nd

no subject

no subject

iii. 26th - labyrinth.

no subject

23rd

no subject

23rd

no subject

23rd

no subject

no subject

23rd