(openish | prison log) lock our eyes on distant horizons

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Date & Time: Nov. 19th - ??? at least several days, tbd
Location: Empty housing in the West Wing.
Characters: Arrested mutineers & visitors (potentially YOU)
Summary: Everyone locked up some mutineers so now they're slightly stuck in place.
Warnings: there will probably be discussion of violence and death, will add if necessary.

[ Mutineers have been put in some of the empty rooms in the West Wing, one guard at a time on the hallway and the doors only able to be opened from the outside for now. Roslyn and whoever else she can get to volunteer are rotating guard duty.

They have been set four to a room for the moment.

Cell 1: Charlie, Connor, Max, and very briefly Sev
Cell 2: Chloe, Marie, Tempest, Bond
Cell 3: Sev (after not long at all)
Cell 4: Jesse (after taking Tempest's powers)

Visitors are allowed, but please note that anyone who had at any point been advocating violence against the mutineers in a place where Roslyn is likely to have seen it will absolutely not be allowed near them. Visits will be supervised and in a separate room from the cells for the sake of privacy, with the door open and a guard within easy eyesight  and earshot of any raised voices. 

Mutineers will start without access to their tablets but will regain access within approximately a day to two days. However! These tablets will be temporarily unable to encrypt messages. Private messages to personal inboxes are still accessible but on the network itself all their interaction must be public.

Guards on Duty: Roslyn, Riku, Raiden, Wesley Mitchell, Travis Marks, Seras Victoria, Caspian. Working on 6 hour rotations, so each guard is on approximately once every 1 1/2 days.

If you have any questions about confinement etc just let me know! ]

Comments

Nov. 23rd, later

[werewolfing]

[peter hates cages. there's nothing in the world that scares him more than cages. as far as he's concerned, exsilium is already a cage, the moon base is a smaller cage, and then there's this.

he'd told her that this was better than dying. he'd voluntarily stayed in a cage with isaac and scott. he hadn't told her that he'd rather be dead than imprisoned.

peter's been to see tempest once before, soon after the mutineers were first locked up, after he'd tracked down steph. to check on her, mostly. she wouldn't know it, though, because she was asleep at the time, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to wake her or stay. this time, she's awake.

peter looks calm. inside, he feels sick. but he gives tempest a bit of a smile anyway. not because there's anything here worth smiling about, but because he figures nobody's going to be smiling at her lately.]

Hey.

[hyanaimne]

[Peter's probably the first person she's seen the entire time that she's wanted to see, because she knows his opinion on the whole matter, and he doesn't hate her for her choices. He's the first she can look at and know that he's still a friend. She needs that.

She tries to smile back and falls flat - today hasn't been the best of days, all things considered, and she probably looks worse than she has been. She's trying not to lose her shit (again) and while she can manage that, anything else is just half-assed at best]

Hi.

[werewolfing]

[there's a not small part of peter that wants to bolt. the prison, tempest's misery...he doesn't want any part of these things. he reminds himself that the door is still open for him. this isn't his cage.

she helped him.

he doesn't run. instead he comes and sits closeish, within reach but not touching. with him comes a very subtle aura of soothing calm, easily ignored or given in to.!]

You're looking exceptionally lovely today.

[hyanaimne]

[she laughs, a weak, watery thing that's there and gone as soon as it appeared. She reaches up to rub at her face, wiping away traces of tears that may have remained]

Flattery will get you nowhere.

[werewolfing]

Sure it will. Gave me something to say, didn't it?

[hyanaimne]

Mm, it did . . .

[she draws her knees up to lean against, draping her arms over them and just putting her head down]

Sorry. I am not at my best right now.

[werewolfing]

And here I was expecting sunshine and roses.

[utterly deadpan. but he still doesn't know what to do, really. he's no good at this.

after a moment, he reaches out and scrubs his knuckles lightly over the crown of her head. it doesn't even come close to hurting.]

[hyanaimne]

I am never sunshine and—

[she cuts herself off when she feels his hand, and she can't hold back the sobbing laugh that gets muffled into her arms]

[werewolfing]

[he can't tell if she's laughing or crying or both, so he sort of awkwardly pets her head once or twice before taking his hand back.]

[hyanaimne]

[it's. It's definitely crying, judging by the way her shoulders begin shaking. Out of all of the days she's been here, today has by far been the worse, and that's including when she really began to feel sick. Her fingers bunch in the material of her jeans]

[werewolfing]

Ah, hell.

[crying girls are the bane of teenage boys and peter is no exception. he doesn't know what to do and he hates not knowing what to do. he sighs softly, runs a hand through his hair.]

Jesus, Tempest, come here.

[hyanaimne]

[some fearsome mercenary she is. She shakes her head and lifts it, enough that she can scrub at her face, angrily]

I—I am fine, I'm sorry—

[werewolfing]

Oh shut up. I already know you're a badass. Come here.

[hyanaimne]

[she debates arguing with him a little more, but no . . . she's had enough of that today. So she just leans enough that she's leaning against him, instead]

[werewolfing]

[he puts an arm around her so that she can rest her head on his shoulder, his elbow bent so that his hand rests lightly on her head. there's nothing particularly intimate about it, with only a hint of the weird way he interacts with isaac in that his fingers run absently through her hair.

that aura of calm that surrounds peter is stronger when she's this close, although it's less influence and more suggestion, as though he's some kind of universal comfort object. there's still the faintest hint of cigarette smoke in the leather of his jacket, but mostly peter smells like soap and the odd sweet, furry scent of a clean puppy.]

[hyanaimne]

[she isn't very good at contact of any kind. As tired as she is, she still tenses up at first. She can count the number of times she's done anything like this on one hand. But as she gets used to it, and thanks to that aura of calm it isn't long before she relaxes, the grip she has on her jeans lessening some.

She isn't crying anymore, at least. That she's got a reign on, even if the rest is still an effort. She shuts her eyes and lets out a shaky breath]

[werewolfing]

[it's awkward as hell, but he just keeps sitting there and petting her hair, because what else is he gonna do? there's literally nothing he can do for tempest besides not run away.]

You can talk or we can sit, it's all the same to me.

[hyanaimne]

[that's really all he can do for her, but she appreciates it much more than she can ever hope to put into words. She shrugs the opposite shoulder not leaning against him]

My magic was taken. [her fingers tighten in her jeans again] And with that my ability to sense it, or sense anything.

[werewolfing]

[he flinches, sucks in half a breath through his teeth. jesse, obviously. that's ugly. he thinks about isaac and scott, who chose locks and chains to losing what they are. he sighs.]

Anything like what? You've still got your eyes and ears and all that.

[hyanaimne]

I could have told you where all the plants were on the base. [she shrugs a shoulder again] There was not much to sense up here in the first place, but it was still there.

[werewolfing]

Ah.

[he blows out a breath hard enough to move the bits of hair that have fallen in his face. how is it that a bunch of people all doing what they think is right manage to fuck each other up so badly?

sometimes peter just wants to be a wolf.]

That really fucking sucks.

[hyanaimne]

[she makes a noise of agreement, then tentatively shifts a little closer to lean better. She's finally let go of her jeans, though, hands resting on top of her knees instead. Her fingers fiddle together, idly]

I do not even know why it was taken. Other than simply participating in all of this. [she snorts]

[werewolfing]

They didn't even explain? Did anybody get hurt?

[he doesn't react to her moving closer other than the necessary shift of his arm on her shoulders. this is still weird, although it's getting less so. he's warm and sturdy, though, solid to lean against.]

[hyanaimne]

"It was necessary." His response to my own as to why I was part of the mutiny. But no, no one was hurt.

[warm is good. She's freezing, even under all the layers she has, plus her cloak, that Caspian gave back]

[werewolfing]

[peter's actually pretty good at generating body heat--ending up inevitably naked out in the woods once a month imparts a certain tolerance to cold.]

Everyone does what they believe is necessary, everything still ends up fucked.

Are you half lizard or something? You're freezing.