Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh]

sbeeg
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Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Jan 28, 2011 17:50:41 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Jan 28, 2011 17:50:41 GMT -5

Clayburn, Cassius

They broke. They gave up all to quickly. This must be a new record for Cassius Clayburn. He worked all the bite out of them- there didn't even have a bark anymore. They just relaxed, accepting their fate. Part of Claybrun rejoiced in this new victory, but the other part was disappointed that the fun had ended. Truthfully, the spirit breaking is the best part- the actually avoxing is fun don't get him wrong but it is a lot more exhilarating if you have to fight them to get the scalpel in their mouth.

Greg Macintosh just sat there, his mouth open and head tilted back ready for the pain that was to come. Ariadne's arms relaxed and she closed her eyes. Cassius leaned in and watched as a tear rolled down her cheek. He wanted to brush it away but restrained himself- there were more pressing matters. Sure the officials liked torture, but time is money. Taking a breath, Cassius guided Ariadne's hands into Greg's mouth. She had muttered something but the Peacekeeper wasn't listening to her and didn't catch it.

"Alright dollface, just slice it off," he said, like a teacher to a student. He eased the blade so it was right above the slice zone (as the they called it). Cassius didn't want this moment to be a puppet act, he wanted her to do it out of her own free will. Sure she had no choice, but at least he wasn't physically puling the strings. Cassius let his hands drift up to her elbows. "Do it. Do it now."

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Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Feb 9, 2011 18:32:35 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Feb 9, 2011 18:32:35 GMT -5

wilson gregory macintosh
his actions - 2D5F96 / his words - 899FB8
his memories, his song - 535E6B

Eyelids met eyelids, and all became dark.

It was over, the boy reckoned. Yes, the had tried somewhat to keep their cool, but this guy was a trained professional. He'd probably tortured countless people before they had entered the room, which would probably explain why he was able to deduce what had already been going on. Then again, Greg Macintosh was never a complex person - all of his emotions were shown on his sleeve. In that case, it was probably best not to get in large trouble - sensitive boys were always the ones who came out scarred, physically or mentally.

Either way, they were done, finished. He'd never see Ariadne again. He'd never get to see the trees that he had just begun to call home. He would never be able to walk again as a free man - it was practically impossible to break out of the Capitol. Perhaps many had tried, but Greg hadn't heard of any stories about avoxes escaping from the Capitol. So it wasn't a bad idea to just put that idea out of his head. Not like he could escape anyways; he was far too clumsy to sneak away unnoticed.

He wanted to go home. Where one wouldn't get kicked in the balls for glancing at someone the wrong way or be forced to breathe the fumes that seemed to be laced with dirt and blood. He didn't want to hear the screams of prisoners anymore, hear them being dragged across the gritty concrete floor. Greg had enough of all of the pain to last a lifetime; it would simply be embedded into his mind forever, forcing him to relive these moments, the ones that he would now wish to forget.

Ariadne hated him now, he reasoned. It seemed obvious; she seemed to have given up too, his hopefully realistic sounding speech making her more fragile instead of riled up. His stomach felt like a weight had been dropped into it every time he thought about her feelings. It was like being smacked in the face, what he did to her. "Betraying her". If he could take it all back, perhaps he would. But then where would they be? Subjected to more torture? Probably.

At least she'll be somewhat alright, he thought as the cold smooth metal blade entered his mouth. Perhaps it didn't actually touch it, but you could sense when something so precariously sharp was being driven towards your tongue, ready to simply slice it off, just like that. Then the mouth would be empty. Just like his eyes, which would seem to be hollow if they had opened. But they didn't. So nobody would truly know how lost Greg felt, and likely nobody ever would.

Perhaps a bead of sweat formed on his forehead. Maybe his hand started shaking again. But who would notice? Their attention would be focused on the shiny silver blade, and the loss of a tongue.

No one would notice the fact that something else, something more important than that, would fade away as well.

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Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Feb 11, 2011 21:14:31 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Feb 11, 2011 21:14:31 GMT -5

Ariadne

-------------------
Writing: 006064
Speech: 006E4A
Other Speech:024C68
------------------

"Alright dollface, just slice it off,"

Shut up, don’t you call me that, don’t you even think- Sharp thoughts with the ability to scratch steel passed through her head, mimicking the words that’ll never pass her lips. The fury was back, a snake, winding and turning in her stomach, hissing, prepared to strike. The fury wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, it merely arose with the Peacekeeper’s comment, a superior one, it was. Marking the fact she was inferior to him, which was true, but it still stung to be reminded. But right now, weariness had taken over, even restricting her ability to wince. She felt him push her hands into Greg’s mouth, over his tongue, wet saliva dripping over her hands, making her shudder. She wondering if the feeling of warm blood, washing over one’s skin felt much worse, but it made her feel sick, and she quickly pushed it from her mind.

The man’s hands slipped to her elbows, and he was telling her something, his words lost amongst the mush of slippery blood in her mind, severed flesh, the images coming together, making her stomach turn inside out. Hot bile rose in her throat, and it took her a full minute of shaky breathing, and swallowing before she realized what was going on. It was time. That moment. She was going to Avox Greg.

Sure, sure, she’d seen it coming. Of course it was coming, she’d known it from the moment the Peacekeeper had grabbed her and proposed the idea to her. However, it had merely lingered in the back of her mind, the events unfolding before her overcoming it. Now, it surged forward, flying into her face, quick at lightning, her heart skipping a beat. Her closed eyes snapped open, darting around wildly, once more looking for that escape. However, that small sliver of hope turned around and pierced her now, before smashing into millions of pieces. Pieces that couldn’t be picked up, and put back together. She was about to take something away from someone. Their voice. Such a sacred thing. Your voice was your connection to reality, or at least she thought so. Once taken away, well, hand signals can only get you so far. She knew Avoxes lived a hard life, they were servants, basically slaves of the Capitol. No one deserved it. And she was the one to do it. There was no way around it, no negotiations, nothing to be done. It had to happen.

Ariadne had never believed in destiny, or fate, or “something’s are meant to be”. Things merely happened. The course of life was like the weather. Sometimes it rains, thunders, lightning, other times it calm and clear. There was no way of telling how it’ll go. It just happens. She forgot all her restrictions against that sort of stuff, because right now, standing in a freaking interrogation room, being forced to cut out the tongue of someone she thought was her friend, and was completely unsure of now, she decided that maybe it was meant to be. Maybe Greg was meant to lose his tongue, and be forced into slavery. Yeah, not the most favorable position, but perhaps it was fate. It had to be. Everything must happen for a reason, right? It was thundering right now, but soon, maybe Mother Nature was planning for sunny skies. She was getting ahead of herself, she knew it. Jumbled up thoughts filled her head, clogging her mind, entwining with each other. She had to stay here, in the moment, back in that interrogation room…and do it…cut out Greg’s tongue.

Despair lapped at her blood, and slowed her heart. No way around it…sure, he wasn’t her friend anymore, but…no way around it…does anyone really deserve this…no way around it…how did she end up in this situation…?! She took a slow breath, sweat pouring down her sides. The scalpel was still in her hand, all she had to do was press down….press down…her hand remained, stationary, clasped, tightly, around the metal. She often wondered why when people were about to do something risky, they paused, before actually doing it, and then took the challenge at full speed. Now, she understood. That moment before was where the doubts and regrets came in. Then, finally, they just had to give in, take a deep breath, and do it. Although her situation was slightly different, she was still controlled by that moment before. Instead of doubts, there were emotions, far too many to sort through. She just needed to throw them away, push them back and do it. She glanced at Greg, then forced herself to stare at the wall above his head, as she positioned her hands…to do it. She had to do it…Take that deep breath…she sucked in air…and do it…

Ariadne sliced down.

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

sbeeg
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Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Feb 13, 2011 18:38:35 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Feb 13, 2011 18:38:35 GMT -5

Clayburn, Cassius

Disappointed. That's how Cassius Clayburn felt when Ariadne's arms tensed and sliced the knife down, severing Wilson Gregory Macintosh's tongue from the rest of him. Sure, there was a little pride in his work but after a dozen avoxings you get tired of it. Sure, he tried to mix it up- getting a cell mate to do the task, or even use the victim's own hand to finish the job but Cassius wasn't satisfied.

He watched as the scalpel forced itself through the sensitive flesh. The blood that punctured the air filled the room with its smell. Deciding that he wasn't done with these two yet, Cassius jerked Ariadne's hands out of Greg's mouth, almost cutting off more parts. He slipped the blade right out of her fingers and spun her around. After the previous events happening so slowly, these sudden, quick motions were dizzying. With Ariadne facing the Peacekeeper, he shoved her back, pushing her until the girl's legs bumped into the seated Greg causing her to fall right into the victim's lap.

Leaving the severed tongue in Greg's mouth for him to savor, Cassius quickly unlocked the shackle that held Macintosh's right arm to the chair. Adding the finishing touches of the scalpel in Greg's hand and the position of its blade in front of Ariadne's throat, Cassius admired his work. Keeping a hand on the girl's shoulder to keep her down and the other around Greg's wrist, Clayburn went on to step two.

"She did it. Can you believe it? She cut your tongue off! I thought you two were friends. Friends don't cut off other friends' tongues," Clayburn said as if he was talking to a group of four year olds. However he switched from the annoying voice to quieter voice. The sound that worms itself into the kid's brain and sticks in the like half dried blood. Clayburn knew how it felt. The voice had been used against him once; it had been very effective on him. "She should be punished. You should give her what she deserves, Greg. She isn't worthy of life- she betrayed her friend and maimed him. Does that sound like a person who should walk out of this room Scott-free?"

Cassius was careful never to use Ariadne's name. Use a name, make her human; make someone human, they get only sympathy. These things are delicate, more intricate than a simple slice of the tongue. It takes practice and smarts.

This is what satisfied Cassius Clayburn.

OOC: I feel like I'm powerplaying, I can change it :/

shrimp
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Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Feb 25, 2011 0:02:24 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Feb 25, 2011 0:02:24 GMT -5

Pull me out
Pull me out
Can't you stop this all from happening?
Close the doors and keep them out

One slice of a blade. That was really all it took to remove a slice of humanity from Greg Macintosh. Speech was always something that had been a given to most people, and now it was gone; thrust away from him. Time seemed to slow as it sliced through his tongue, his soul, his life in all of its being. Truthfully, that was all that he was - speech. How often had he attempted to use his words to get out of trouble? How many times had he used all of those accents to merge as best as he could? All the time. And now that ability had vanished, along with his only way of really coping with the world.

Hadn't his dreams been made of words as well? Performing for the stupid Capitolites had been a fantasy of younger Greg's imagination, propelling him towards reading those ancient plays, mouthing words late at night, fueled by the plan that he would become noticed for this. For acting, of all things. Yes, he was always one of those dreamers, hoping that things which were deemed impossible would be able to occur one day. But wishing was somewhat futile now. Never would he regain the talent that he had used so frequently in his life, for all kinds of things.

Did he regret it? Did he regret traveling with Ariadne, attempting to find her parents? Sadly, a part of him; the selfish part, did. If he hadn't done so, he could have followed those childish dreams. He wouldn't have been tortured, been forced to spend these last few days trapped in the confines of a prison, shackled to a chair while his friend was forced to cut out his tongue. So yes, in a way, he did regret the laughs, the time spent with the younger girl, for it simply amounted to his fantasies being destroyed as easily as District Thirteen.

Just as horrific too. The agony was enough to make him scream, but having no tongue prevented that. His back arched. His mouth was wide open, being filled with blood from the now useless tissue left in his mouth. A slight gurgling sound could have been heard if one listened closely, the attempt at screaming in pain that was simply futile. Oh, how he wished for it to just end, maybe even for his life to end, for it was certainly less painful than this. Hastily, the scalpel-like weapon was removed, but he barely noticed, still trapped in the arms of agony which threatened to overtake his mind. It was becoming troublesome to even think logically. Even in his mind, howls of chaos and pain were apparent.

His mouth closed. A trickle of blood seeped from his lips - the inside of his mouth was filled with the red liquid, which would have tasted like rust had he retained his taste-buds. The smell however, was in the air, stuck inside his nostrils so that he almost believed that he was breathing in the sticky red liquid, except in a noxious red gaseous form. Tears streamed out of the corners in his eyelids, for the eyes were still squeezed shut. He couldn't take it. No matter how hard Greg would have tried, pain was never something he could withstand.

He felt a weight being shoved onto him, and his eyes fluttered open in surprise. There was Ariadne, sitting on his lap, and the scalpel was in his hand. For a split second he didn't recognize the weapon - the pain was still lingering in his mind, toying with his thoughts so that every breath, every single moment was filled with white-hot pain that spiked into his brain as his nerves were overworked. A hand - most likely the Peacekeepers, dragged Greg's own extremity to his former comrade's throat, the blade dangerously close to touching the delicate skin.

W...What?

That was the only coherent thought that formed in the avox's (he was truly an avox now, wasn't he) mind as a stream of words flowed in and out of his ear. Who had spoken? No, the tones were too deep to be Ariadne's, and he wasn't even able to speak anymore, so it must have been the Peacekeeper. As he spoke again, the words slowly became more clearer, and the fog of agony that he was lost in began to dissolve.

"... Isn't worthy of life... she betrayed... maimed... who should walk out of this room Scott-free?"

Then it became obvious (well, as obvious to a man who had just had his tongue cut off) to Greg that Ariadne was the intended victim. She was supposed to die, and by his own hand. Now, the Peacekeeper's hand was holding his in place. There was no way that he would be able to remove his hand, nor did he feel like he particularly needed to. It... It was her fault, wasn't it? Yes, she had been the one to do this to him, to lead him into this pit, with no way out.

No... It's not. Yes it is. No. Protected you. How? Friend. No but- doesn't deserve... Stop, please, needs to die- NO. No no no... yes no..... Make it all go away.

I need it to all just... Disappear.

Head shaking ever so slightly, the scalpel was released from his hand, landing harmlessly on the girl's stomach. His whole body started shivering, tears finally stopping. For a while, he just stared there. Into the empty space, where something was there. Something must have been there, for that's all that he was able to do as his mind recuperated from the shock waves that it had received. Eyes began to close again, giving the world a darker and darker shade,

until everything was black.

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Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Feb 25, 2011 22:15:59 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Feb 25, 2011 22:15:59 GMT -5

Ariadne

-------------------
Writing: 006064
Speech: 006E4A
Other Speech:024C68
------------------

She’d done it.

She’d cut off Greg’s tongue…oh no…she did it. Of course, she had expected to do it…but then again, it didn’t seem real. Somehow, she imagined herself disappearing the second she sliced down. It all had to be a dream. Please let it be a dream! She’d wake up again in the forest, the sun warming her back, the wet grass soothing her skin. It couldn’t be real, right? Now, she could feel the warm blood washing over her hand, smell the blood filling her nose, and she saw him. He was in pain, she knew it, it was only expected. Pain was in his face, in his body…all over. Ariadne hated watching anything in pain. She hated seeing an animal writhing in agony on the ground, preferring to kill it as soon as possible. It was a miserable creature anyway, she considered herself doing it a favor. She felt her stomach churning, bile rising in her throat. Hastily swallowing it down, not wanting to add anything to the disgusting situation, Ariadne winced. If only she could just kill Greg now…pull him out of this world of misery. He’d be happy in death, wouldn’t he?

No! More reasonable thoughts surfaced, pushing down the other thoughts most likely induced by the horror that was consuming her like wildfire. Oh no…it was real, too real. Her senses seemed to sharpen. Eyes widening, skin crawling, nose wrinkling…oh no…she felt her hands be wrenched out of Greg’s mouth, the blood still on them. She was spun around, and for once fleeting second, she was face-to-face with the Peacekeeper. She felt a surge of hatred springing up all over her body. He did this, didn’t he? He was the one who forced her to do this, took something dear away from Greg…he did this all. She didn’t deserve the blame…she couldn’t it…she’d been forced…right up until the point where she actually had to cut off Greg’s tongue…She was conflicted. At crossroads, halfway between doing the easy thing and blaming the Peacekeeper, and facing the truth: blaming herself.

She’d been the one to do the dirty work. She’s obeyed the Peacekeeper, given in. She had the blood on her hands now, literally. Now she had to take the blame. It was like someone was throwing rocks at her on a cold day. Hard masses smacking frozen skin. And all the while someone keeps whispering, you deserve it…you deserve it…you deserve it, until finally the words flowed together forming into: I do deserve it…I do deserve it.

Ariadne was lost. Stumbling blindly through guilt. Guilt had no end. It was infinite, leaving those trapped to grope around forever and ever. It was enough to make tears well up in the girl’s eyes. She hadn’t realized what was happened until she was pushed backward, landing on Greg. Before she could react, the now blood-coated, warm steel of the scalpel was scraping against her neck. Gasping, her eyes darted around, hardly daring to move. For once, it didn’t come as a surprise to her that Greg was the one holding the scalpel as choreographed by the Peacekeeper. Her eyes narrowed at him, the evil man he was. However, her hatred was overthrown by fear, by that blade pressed up to her throat.

She could hear him…that awful Peacekeeper…persuading Greg…to do it…hurt her? Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her breath was short and quick. Oh no…things had spun out of control now. There was absolutely no reason why Greg wouldn’t do it. She’d cut off his tongue! Severed something crucial to him. Destroyed it! Gone! While she wanted nothing less to curl up in a ball and cry or sleep, he was probably in a much worse state.

You’re selfish, Ariadne.

Asimila had said it many times before. Whether out of aggravation or anger, she’d said it before. Called the girl selfish. Sometimes it was because Ariadne was insisted eating more than Asimila, or moving on because she was cold. Other times it was during fights over small things. In the end, though, Asimila would always take it back. She’d grip the girl in a hug, telling her she hadn’t meant it. Ariadne would hug her back, let her kiss her face, smile. But, it was true. Ariadne was selfish…

Selfish enough for the a single word to leave her lips, a pleading word, begging. "Don’t."

It was fruitless, it had to be. Squeezing her eyes shut, fingernails digging into her palms, Ariadne waited for death to come. The next moment was the longest in her life. The girl had never contemplated death before. She’d always been naïve, swinging just out of range of it, whenever she went on a thieving expedition in a District. A foolish girl she was. Turning around, laughing at what had just missed her by. Everyone’s laughed at death before, grinned at it, teased it. It’s funny though how they all fall silent when it stares them straight in the face. Ariadne waited, tensely, willing him to just do it and get it over with. Just do it!

He didn’t.

The scalpel fell into her lap, and her eyes flew open. He didn’t do it? She’d done it…cut out his tongue…oh no…the guilt swelled up again, the tears coming once more. Greg…why didn’t he…? She tried to maneuver her body to catch a glimpse of him, but as she did she felt him go limp. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him, head sagging, eyes closed, blood dribbling from his lip. He’d passed out.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Selfish Ariadne was back, as she glanced at the Peacekeeper, which soon replaced her egotistic self with one of dread. Now what? Now what was going to happen? Swallowing, she contemplated the man with her eyes. He was a wicked man, no doubt about that, but what else could he do? Greg’s passed out, and he’s now an Avox. What else could he do now? Nothing. He couldn’t do anything.

He was just a man. He was just as mortal as her. And so what if he had power.? Well, so did she. In a different way. Her power was confidence in herself. She could build up her walls again, she wouldn’t let him in. She wasn’t going to break as easily anymore. If you can’t break someone, if your efforts are futile, then you can’t hurt them. And Ariadne was done being hurt. Done watching others be hurt. If she gave in, her friends got hurt. Greg, even if he hadn’t been a friend, had been hurt at her hand. Because she’d let this man get the best of her. Well…no more…

“It’s over,” the words left her mouth before she could stop them. Strangely enough, they sent a spurt of a adrenaline through her body. Ariadne took a deep breath, steadying herself. “You Avoxed him, it’s done. You can let us go now,” she spoke forcefully, not pleading, not asking, but telling. Almost demanding. She pushed his hand off her shoulder, put on her best glare, and crossed her arms, standing. He was not going to get to her anymore.

This is the Ariadne I want to be, she thought, with satisfaction tingling through her body.

Last Edit: Feb 25, 2011 22:21:36 GMT -5 by Rosetta

^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!

sbeeg
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Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Feb 28, 2011 20:25:03 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Feb 28, 2011 20:25:03 GMT -5

Clayburn, Cassius

He didn't do it. The little brat didn't do it! The scalpel fell into Ariadne's lap and then that little girl decided she wants to boss Cassius around.

“It’s over you Avoxed him, it’s done. You can let us go now,”

Anger welled up in Cassius, filling his throat and flooding his brain. This was his interrogation and no one would dare talk to him like that! No more playing games!

"Oh, you're giving orders now?" Cassius spit at her, grabbing Ariadne by the shoulders and throwing her to the other side of the room. Wherever this burst of rage had come from Cassius had to remember to send them a thank you card because he liked it. The emotion was like fire coursing through his veins, which popped out on his neck.

This was not protocol. Cassius was supposed to Avox Greg then return all the prisoners to their cells. He may get away with things back home but when you're in the middle of the Detention Center being monitored through the one way mirror. Running a hand through his hair, Cassius tried to calm himself. Sweat coated his forehead and he stiffly crossed to the door. Flinging it open he turned back to the girl.

"Get out." the two words were clipped and gruff and Cassius repeated himself but this time it came out loud, violent and even rougher than before. "GET OUT!"

Yet another fail post

Last Edit: Feb 28, 2011 20:25:29 GMT -5 by sbeeg

Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] Retired Staff 6,346 POSTS Pronouns: He/Him last seen Nov 17, 2023 15:15:56 GMT -5 cozy, queer af	Illegal [Rosetta, Shrimpeh] Mar 3, 2011 0:02:02 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy] on Mar 3, 2011 0:02:02 GMT -5 Finished. [/size][/blockquote]
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