Eponine Thenardier (
gardienne) wrote in
thecapitol2014-12-29 05:15 pm
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Entry tags:
Jailbird
Who: Eponine and open
What: Eponine has been arrested for speaking out about the Capitol, and is enduring a couple of weeks in solitary confinement in the prison. Luckily for her, they still allow visitors. However, all visitations will be CLOSELY monitored by Peacekeepers, so best behaviour please.
When Anytime you fancy for the next two weeks
Where: Eponine's cell in the prison or the Visitor centre.
Warnings: As always, feel free to add your own. Eps comes with the possibility of mild swearing and attempts at spitting - not that it's going anywhere: a forcefield separates her from you! Also, mentions of death.
Scenario One - for Peacekeepers/officials who might have the joy of visiting her cell.
She hadn't been particularly surprised when she had been taken into custody. She had fully expected that she was going to be arrested after that stupid meeting. She had expected that a cloth bag would fall over her head, that she'd be dragged out, forced to kneel, feel the mouth of the gun on her head and -
But no. She had been dragged out, yes, and bundled into a van, before being shoved into a cell without further ceremony. For a while, she had stood and shouted through the heavy, opaque door, demanding to know how long she was being held for, demanding to be let go, but when it became obvious that nobody was going to answer, she stopped.
She looked around her cell. It was completely white: smooth, white walls, white floor, white ceiling. Even a white light illuminating the cell. Her bed was smooth concrete, laid over with a white mattress: the toilet, hidden behind a low wall, again was white. Even the door. Nothing to look at.
Eponine sat down in the middle of the floor, her knees against her chest, and her arms wrapped tightly about. She made sure that the hood on her hoodie was well pulled up, and she buried her face in her knees.
Without much indication of time, she slept when she was tired, and when she woke, she returned to the same place on the floor, occasionally looking up at the door, willing it to open and for her imprisonment to be over.
Scenario 2 - for those who wouldn't have the pleasure of a cell-side visit.
She was marched through corridors that twist and turn and yet all look completely identical. There was no way to tell them apart, no time to look closely for tell tale markers for the Peacekeepers moved her at a quick pace.
They took her to a visiting room, sat her down in a chair, and enabled the forcefield around her. This way, her visitors could see her, and she them, but there was no chance of contact. She didn't like it much, and she wasn't particularly eager to see anybody, not in here. But it was a change at least, from the oppressive whiteness of her cell.
The peacekeepers flanked Eponine, guns drawn, and restraints clearly visible. She knew that they wouldn't hesitate to use them, either on her nor anybody else. She hoped, desperately, that nothing would go wrong this time. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the seat, waiting resignedly for her visitors to come. And she knew that the Peacekeepers had their ears open, listening to hear any sniffs of anti-Capitol thoughts. She hoped nobody would be as silly as she.
What: Eponine has been arrested for speaking out about the Capitol, and is enduring a couple of weeks in solitary confinement in the prison. Luckily for her, they still allow visitors. However, all visitations will be CLOSELY monitored by Peacekeepers, so best behaviour please.
When Anytime you fancy for the next two weeks
Where: Eponine's cell in the prison or the Visitor centre.
Warnings: As always, feel free to add your own. Eps comes with the possibility of mild swearing and attempts at spitting - not that it's going anywhere: a forcefield separates her from you! Also, mentions of death.
Scenario One - for Peacekeepers/officials who might have the joy of visiting her cell.
She hadn't been particularly surprised when she had been taken into custody. She had fully expected that she was going to be arrested after that stupid meeting. She had expected that a cloth bag would fall over her head, that she'd be dragged out, forced to kneel, feel the mouth of the gun on her head and -
But no. She had been dragged out, yes, and bundled into a van, before being shoved into a cell without further ceremony. For a while, she had stood and shouted through the heavy, opaque door, demanding to know how long she was being held for, demanding to be let go, but when it became obvious that nobody was going to answer, she stopped.
She looked around her cell. It was completely white: smooth, white walls, white floor, white ceiling. Even a white light illuminating the cell. Her bed was smooth concrete, laid over with a white mattress: the toilet, hidden behind a low wall, again was white. Even the door. Nothing to look at.
Eponine sat down in the middle of the floor, her knees against her chest, and her arms wrapped tightly about. She made sure that the hood on her hoodie was well pulled up, and she buried her face in her knees.
Without much indication of time, she slept when she was tired, and when she woke, she returned to the same place on the floor, occasionally looking up at the door, willing it to open and for her imprisonment to be over.
Scenario 2 - for those who wouldn't have the pleasure of a cell-side visit.
She was marched through corridors that twist and turn and yet all look completely identical. There was no way to tell them apart, no time to look closely for tell tale markers for the Peacekeepers moved her at a quick pace.
They took her to a visiting room, sat her down in a chair, and enabled the forcefield around her. This way, her visitors could see her, and she them, but there was no chance of contact. She didn't like it much, and she wasn't particularly eager to see anybody, not in here. But it was a change at least, from the oppressive whiteness of her cell.
The peacekeepers flanked Eponine, guns drawn, and restraints clearly visible. She knew that they wouldn't hesitate to use them, either on her nor anybody else. She hoped, desperately, that nothing would go wrong this time. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the seat, waiting resignedly for her visitors to come. And she knew that the Peacekeepers had their ears open, listening to hear any sniffs of anti-Capitol thoughts. She hoped nobody would be as silly as she.
no subject
"Of course, Ms. Salazar," Alex goes to the next order of business, his hand swiveling back to his side as he extends the small container to her. "This seems to be fan mail. Do you wish to reply to them? I can transcribe them for you."
no subject
"Fan mail?" She held her hands out. "I usually put it straight in the bin, most of it. I don't care what nobody thinks." But perhaps here it would while away the time, trying to read the letters to start off with. "Would you really write an answer? Are you offering to keep me company, Sir?"
no subject
"I can write an answer, yes," Alex replies. Or to be more accurate, he can even directly send them wirelessly but he knows that Eponine is from a less...advanced time. He keeps things simple for now. "It's a service I'm offering, as a new Peacekeeper recruit. Did you prefer conversation or should I just stand here?"
Because some inmates seemed to prefer that, oddly enough. As if existing in the same cell was a reminder they weren't alone or going crazy.
no subject
Her attention dwindles as she unfolds the letter. She runs her finger under the words, muttering as she reads. For a moment, a look of pure sadness crosses her features , but it's soon replaced by a grim scown, until she relaxes her face so she is expressionless again.
"Is this a joke you play on me?" She glances up at Alex again. "You 're disgusting, you know that? You know what they say? You know how horrid it is to be scum and told it? Well -"
She spits at Alex, furious to think he's been pretending, simply waiting to laugh at her.
no subject
He patiently watches as she opens the letter. The paper is expensive, thin with a silky sheen that he can see through when it catches the light in a certain way. It's easy for his HUD's AI to scan the cursive and flip it around so he can read what it says. It appears that Eponine, for her poor attitude and performance, has lost a fan who's very vocal about it, right down to making a bullet-pointed list.
"I don't joke," Alex's head shifts down, too smooth to have bones and muscle, as he glances down at the glob of spit dribbling down his graphene calf. As it's not at all threatening, he leaves it alone. It will get cleaned off and sanitized by his tech team. "I suggest you learn from the criticism and improve on it, Ms. Salazar."
no subject
So she turns her attention back to Alex. "Is this what they all say? All these letters? Did Miss Blackwood tell you to give them to me? Do you like to do it? Do you truly believe what you say?"
no subject
He fixes Eponine with a stare, polite, the opposite of invested. Clinical. The Peacekeepers who don't seem to appreciate his involvement on the force might even call it zombie-like but they're wise enough not to say it directly to his face.
"I've seen your records, of course. My opinion is that there are certain areas you can improve upon if you wish to retain a certain..." he fishes for the words, mouth a merciless, thin line. "...standing. You may consider counseling."
no subject
She frowns at the idea of people seeing her records, peacekeepers and the like. There is truly no anonymity here, and it really hits home then. "You ought not to read a record. They're for the high ups, not the likes of you."
She laughs derisively at his suggestion. "Counseling. Pah! I know what you lot will do to me if I agree. You'll make me an avow."
no subject
"Records can be important in determining if a suspect is a threat," Alex replies calmly. "Counseling is important for here."
He reaches up to tap the side of his head, his finger going ting ting ting against his graphene plating.
no subject
"Am I going mad? Are - are you real? Why does your head ring?"
no subject
no subject
"Do all peacekeepers have metal heads ?" Nuggets of information, to be passed on to the rebels.
no subject
no subject
She shakes her head stubbornly. "I am not mad!"
no subject
no subject
"After all they do to us, you decide to work for them, and make us keep their stupid laws? I think you're disgusting."
no subject
He doesn't lace it with quiet venom like a normal human would but there it is - a threat's a threat.
sorry -RL took hold
"I wish I didn't, you know? I hate being in trouble all the time. And it is all my fault, District Three and that. I hate it. Perhaps I ought to be like you?"
no subject
"It's important to first recognize you have a problem," Alex doesn't try to reassure her that no, District 3 isn't her fault. "Unfortunately I can't recommend neurosuppression to you at this point in time. You can work hard to qualify and I can put in a personal word in if you really wish to try."
Other wise...Alex's slow, pointed glance at the white cells, the white cot, say everything else.