(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

[hyanaimne]

[that isn't expected. She blinks widely at him, utterly taken back, then reaches up to smack him - lightly! - in the arm]

You said that already.

[werewolfing]

[he lets go, point made.]

And I hate having to repeat myself, so your belief would be appreciated.

[hyanaimne]

[she makes a "hmphing" noise and ducks back, just a little, into the relative safety of her hood, muttering]

I believe you. And I bite back anyway.

[werewolfing]

No, you don't believe me.

[but he retreats anyway, chooses a piece of wall and sits down against it.]

Not going to contest the biting back, though.

[hyanaimne]

Oh, for—

[she reaches up to push her hood back - the off completely, huffing]

Happy? I believe you. I am just - I don't know. [and that frustrates her a little] Come back here.

[werewolfing]

[he stands up with a little huff, comes back to exactly where he was standing. he's not being rebellious or argumentative, he just really doesn't know what she wants or where she's going with the order.]

[hyanaimne]

[it's times like this that Tempest seems much younger than she actually is, what with the air of petulance she has when she takes hold of Peter's sleeve and tugs. She doesn't let go as she sits down against the wall, the tug wordlessly asking him to join her]

I don't think you are going to bite me, alright?

[werewolfing]

You sure as hell think I'm going to something.

[obviously it's time for peter to be the adult again, because he's not huffy. not happy, either, but not huffy, and the words come out mostly devoid of snark. he sits beside her without any resistance.]

[hyanaimne]

I think I am going to do something or say something stupid, that is all.

[good. She relaxes, at least, and thunks her head back against the wall]

[werewolfing]

What's a little more stupid in this shitshow?

[he sighs.]

I came back, didn't I?

[hyanaimne]

I would rather not be the one to add to it.

[she sighs as well]

I know. I am thankful you did.

[werewolfing]

Yeah and I'd rather be at home eating Lynda's casserole. We've all got what we've got.

[he pats her knee though.]

[hyanaimne]

[she takes that as an invitation to let her head thunk down on his shoulder]

Yes, well . . . I do not want to ruin what I've got. More than I already have.

[she makes a face, because to her, that sounds completely ridiculous, but it's true]

[werewolfing]

Pro tip: that was not the way to go about it.

[putting an arm around her shoulders and petting her hair is probably not actually the correct form of reinforcement for this situation but hell if he cares.]

[hyanaimne]

[no but she'll take it - even lean into a little]

I do not know how to go about it the right way. This is all new to me.

[werewolfing]

[at this point, it's starting to become as comforting for peter as anything else--he never thought of himself as being all that touchy-feely, but it helps.]

Never push away something you want. Maybe you don't snatch it, maybe you wait for it to come to you, but you don't push it away.

[that's a lesson he's just learned, uncomfortably, within himself over the past few months. and in a lot of ways, tempest seems behind him, at least in that sort of stuff.]

[hyanaimne]

[it's hard to put into words how far behind Tempest is with that kind of thing. A few months here and it's only started cracking the surface, getting in past the walls she's spent years building up. She didn't give a damn about anything back home; here, she cares too much.

And if all you know how to do is push what you want away?

[because she's good at that. Ten years, almost eleven, and she's pushed every single thing she ever wanted away, save for Maias]

[werewolfing]

Pricina, if the thing you're doing isn't working, you try something different.

[peter doesn't understand how anybody could walk around angry and hateful at the world all the time. even when his own world was falling apart around him, he was still in love with the world, still aware how beautiful and miraculous every damn thing really is. peter's the kind of guy who would stare at a trainwreck, not out of fascination with death but because accidents are just as much the unlikely becoming real as miracles are.

he sets his chin on her head and sighs.]

You try anything at all but the thing that doesn't work.

[hyanaimne]

I am trying now, aren't I?

[because that's the only way she can explain this, sitting with Peter. Or how she's let people close enough to her to call them friends, or even the damn mutiny - things she'd never done before]

I am not pushing anything away.

[werewolfing]

Didn't say you weren't trying. You just asked.

[peter doesn't have a particularly deep voice, but it still thrums through his jaw and throat where it's resting against her head.]

I know you're not.

[hyanaimne]

Mm, I know.

[she has to wonder how they always end up having these sort of conversations - the ones that make her think about things she doesn't want to, realize things she's avoided. Is this what happens when you open up to people?

She heaves a sigh and closes her eyes. Her fingers tug at the hem of her cloak, though, distractedly. Like she's trying to come up with something else to talk about for now]

I need a better nickname for you. [and that's what she comes up with]

[werewolfing]

Than brat? Yeah, probably. It'll come to you.

[a pause, a few heartbeats.]

Personally, I like sexy man-beast.

[hyanaimne]

[she lifts her head long enough to give him an amused, incredulous look, before putting her head back done]

Apologies, but there is not a word for "man-beast" in Elven.

[werewolfing]

[he chuckles.]

There's not one in English either, we just put two together and called it a day.

[hyanaimne]

I am not calling you a man-beast.