It's the instinct that's got us locked up tight... [Slightly backdated]

[pythianjudgment]

Who| Terezi, Quintus, any of her Capitol visitors.
What| Terezi is back in the last place she wants to be: The Capitol. Now that her true colors are clear, she has some explaining to do.
Where| The Detainment Center
When| Post-D12 Mission, following her death.
Warnings/Notes| Torture, violence, mentions of death, etc.


[A: For Quintus.]

Terezi doesn't honestly expect to wake again after her death in District 12, but it would seem that Panem isn't quite done with her yet. Dread is the first real emotion that she manages to process upon smelling the familiar crisp white scent of the detention facility. Dread at the realization that she's back in the Capitol and everything that entails; dread for the state that she left the Initiate in before she died. This is almost worse than being back on that meteor. Almost.

For a while, Terezi sits there behind the forcefield, listening for any familiar sounds or voices. A lot of the time, the hall is silent or nearly so. Her thoughts turn towards what lies ahead in her future. She tries not to think about about it, apart from piecing together what her story should be. Would they believe her if she said that she was forced into this? Probably not. She had more than enough chances to flee back to the Capitol, if that was her wish. No doubt someone saw her during the raid on the Victory Tour, too. Would it be better to tell the truth, then? Maybe. Not all of it, of course. If they knew everything she had done, she'd likely get a bullet in her head for her trouble. Talking to the enemy was generally frowned upon as well, but there were lesser things that she could confess--things that wouldn't get others killed, if and when they interrogated her.

Though, there was no if in her mind. She was a war prisoner. That was how these things went. The most she could hope for would be to buy enough time for someone to rescue her... if they even realized that she was alive.

They come for her, and she doesn't go quietly at first. It's not that she fights so much as she cowers back from the Peacekeepers sent to retrieve her, teeth and claws bared like an animal cornered against the wall. One of them grabs her wrist, and Terezi pulls back, lashing out with the claws of her other hand. Her resistance earns her a blow from the butt of the other's gun. She stumbles--but catches her balance. The first one still has a hold on her, and in her dazed state, he pulls her arms behind her back and locks them in a pair of cuffs. She gets another blow to her gut even after being restrained, doubling her over, and a shove towards the door that she barely stays on her feet for. The voices that yell at her to move don't sound familiar. She wonders if she should be grateful for that.

Reluctantly she allows them to drag her out of the room, shoulders hunched defensively as she fights the urge to bolt. She doesn't have anywhere to go even if she does get away, and she doesn't think she'll make it very far.

They lead her down a series of halls, twisting and turning in a way that makes it difficult to remember where she came from. Eventually, they stop at a plain metal door. It slides open, revealing an equally plain white room and a plain metal table. Her guards march her inside and shove her into a chair on the opposite side of the table, her arms pressed uncomfortably between her spine and the back of the chair. They take their places on either side of her, prepared to grab her the moment she tries to get up. And they wait.

Before long, another man comes into the room, and the next two hours are a blur. They start out simple enough. Questions, questions, and more questions. Most of the time, Terezi says she doesn't know, even if she does. Sometimes she says nothing at all. The questions give way to repercussions. The striking pain from the butt of those guns becomes a familiar counter to her responses. Her ears ring. Her head pounds. She clenches her fists to keep them from trembling and giving her away. Once they know you're afraid, it only gets worse from there.

Eventually, frustration gets the better of her interrogator. He steps outside for a few minutes, only to return with two more men carrying a basin of water. A sick feeling drops into the pit of her stomach. There's no hiding the way that she turns a shade paler when they set the basin in front of her.

Her resolve shatters. She tries to bolt for the door, only to feel someone grab her shoulder. That same someone kicks her legs out from under her, dropping her to her knees. She struggles desperately against the vice-like grip on her shoulders, but to no avail. Terezi barely has enough time to suck in a lungful of air before her head is shoved under the water. Panic locks around her chest and throat like a vice. Her skin crawls from the memory of her drowning. She wants to scream, but air is a precious commodity at the moment. She thrashes instead, trying to knock over either the men or the basin. Neither one budges.

Her lungs are burning when they pull her back up. She barely clears the water before sucking in a fresh breath, choking on the water streaming down her hair and her face. The man asks her another question. She tries to tell him that she doesn't know, but as the first few shaky words pass her lips, he barks one word: Again.

Over and over it goes. Each time feels longer than the last. Each struggle is just a little bit harder. It only takes a few minutes for her body to be exhausted from the terror, but the session keeps going. Her thoughts are frayed. Each question has her scrambling to remember what she had promised not to say. The thoughts slips away again with each submersion.

Her head is down again, her struggles getting weaker, when the door slides open again. She doesn't notice, but the other Peacekeepers do.



[B: For her visitors.]

One thing that Terezi didn't expect from her time as a war prisoner? Visitors.

The first time they take her out to meet someone, she's already bracing herself for another round of interrogation. The terror dissipates somewhat when they lead her to the cafeteria instead, seating her at one of the tables and leaving a single guard at her side. Her hands are mercifully left unshackled, and she decides that she doesn't want to test her luck by making a run for it. Sleep doesn't come easy in this place, and she's too exhausted to feel anything more than relief that her trip out here is for something so benign.

It doesn't take long for them to bring her visitor over to her.

Comments

B

[furgood]

Meulin appears, a pad of paper and a marker in hand still and a nervous look lingering on her features. The look doesn't fade as she finds Terezi there at the table. If anything, it gets worse. She bites her lip, tucks her hair back behind her ear. She manages a smile and a pleasant thank you for the Peacekeepers before she takes a seat.

She looks a little different since the last time they met. Maybe it's just that she's better fed now and it's had time to give her actual curves to her hips. Or it could be the disturbing way her smiles don't reach her eyes more often than not, even if they seem more prevalent than ever. Setting her paper and marker on the table for Terezi, she hesitates, eyes going a little blank before she snaps back up to smile winningly.

"It's so good to have you back in the Capitol, Terezi."

[pythianjudgment]

When Meulin shows up, Terezi has a momentary jolt of panic. This isn't a place that she should be in, and the thought of Meulin being captured as well is soul-crushing. But the girl sits down across from her, and Terezi realizes that she's not here as a prisoner. She's here to visit.

There's something off about the way that Meulin smells, but everything else feels a little off in this place, too. Honestly, Terezi is a little surprised that she would venture around the Peacekeepers here at all. It can't be easy for her, and Terezi finds herself wishing that Meulin hadn't come, even if it's good to smell one friendly face around here.

Though, when Meulin flashes that smile at her, Terezi has to wonder if maybe it's a little too friendly. Tiredly, she reaches out for the paper, sliding it closer to her so that she can write a few words back to her friend--all too aware of the Peacekeeper at her side, reading over her shoulder. Even written conversations had to be monitored.

Y34H
1TS GR34T
1 4M ONE HUNDR3D P3RC3NT H4PPY TO B3 H3R3 4G41N

She's pretty sure that the worn expression on her face exposes that lie for what it is.

WHY 4R3 YOU H3R3?
1 THOUGHT YOU ONLY D1D ROM4NC3 P13C3S
1 C4N T3LL YOU
1F TH3R3 1S 4NY 4FF3CT1ON4T3 G3STUR3S GO1NG ON 4ROUND H3R3
1 4M NOT ON TH3 G1V1NG OR R3C13V1NG 3ND

[furgood]

The reply is undoubtedly a lie, something that makes Meulin frown. Who wouldn't want to be in the Capitol? Well, it's probably that traitor boyfriend of hers. Terezi undoubtedly misses him. Her suspicions are only confirmed as Terezi goes on and Meulin nods sympathetically. No affection to be found. As it is, Meulin strive to take it all at face value and ignore the lies beneath the words. Her smile springs back up.

"I'm thinking of changing purrfessions actually. I have to think some more on it, but something a little more helpful for the Capitol and my friends. One already got hurt out there..." She trails off, hand clasped atop the table.

"But my line of work isn't why I came. I wanted to see you, hope I could convince you to come to the right side."

Her eyes are so earnest, so eager. If she's acting, it's very good, taking on the roll she so loathed before.

[pythianjudgment]

Changing professions. Terezi isn't sure if she likes the sound of that. She likes it even less when Meulin cites her reasoning as being "helpful for the Capitol". The worst part is hearing her claim that the Capitol was the right side.

Being a loyal subject was always an important part of Meulin's cover, but... She was never quite so direct about it. It was always careful avoidance of the topic and parroted rhetoric. Not this careful consideration on how best to serve.

Terezi grips the pen in her hand, feeling an illness creeping down into her gut. Maybe Meulin was just stepping up her game. The stakes were higher now, and what could she do? Terezi knows that she can't call her out here. She can't get any kind of confirmation. The best she can do is to play the part that she's currently stuck in.

1 4M ON TH3 R1GHT S1D3
NO CONV1NC1NG N33D3D

[furgood]

It might have been a little disturbing to past Meulin how eager she is to believe Terezi had changed. Even if logically, she knows Terezi played both sides before for safety and would glady so again, but there's something that wants to believe in her. Something that makes her smile a little softer and reach out for Terezi's hands. Even if she's rebuked, her smile stays on.

"You purromise? You can do the right thing and meowbe I can come see you more? Or maybe..." She trails off, glancing up at the Peacekeepers. She knows tributes who fight willingly and with loyalty can live elsewhere, she's seen proof in Phi, but it seems like something they may not want her to say aloud. She just wants to keep her friends safe.

"Maybe they'll let me bring you something next time? I just want you to be safe, do the right thing. Make the right choices."

b.

[cognitived]

Clint's known for a long while just how many consequences this war could have. He's already lost friends, and Clint has no illusion that he won't lose any more. But it's still somewhat of a shock to have Terezi back in the Capitol so soon, and Clint can't resist visiting her. Maybe it's not the best choice while he's laying low, but whatever.

So Terezi sits, clearly exhausted, and Clint slides into the chair opposite her.

"Hey kiddo."

He murmurs, softly, aching for her. Clint's more than aware of the clear signs she's wearing, even if he doesn't acknowledge it outloud.

[pythianjudgment]

If Terezi could, she would protest this whole decision. It's not a good idea for Clint to be visiting her. Not when he apparently has the trust needed to go about as he pleases. Not while she assumes that the Peacekeeper at her side is taking notes of everything she says, everything she does, and every visitor she has.

She wants to tell him to go away... but she also selfishly wants him to stay. It's been too long since she's smelled a friendly face.

"Hi," she mutters, more at the table than to him. "Is this your new job? Visiting jailbirds?" If that was an attempt at a joke, it doesn't quite reach her face. She's not smiling, but maybe she sounds just a little less miserable.

[earthborn]

There is a time-honored tradition of mentorship that requires the terrible alloy of past experience and a particular, even-tempered diligence. Shepard's got one of this things; for the rest, she'll have to substitute the fact that before sitting down in her chair, she turned it backwards.

If you can't be genuine, then you better tie on that poker-mask extra tight.

"Hey, you got a minute?"

[pythianjudgment]

Terezi isn't sure how much time she's technically allowed to have with her visitors, but that is probably beside the point. The casualness with which Shepard sits down tells her that her Commander is still playing at being a Capitol supporter. At least, Terezi hopes she's still playing. She doesn't think that Shepard would be the kind of person to turn around and say fuck you to everything they've been working towards... but there's a lot of doubt swimming around in her thoughts these days.

It's better that she play along regardless of whatever side that Shepard happens to be on.

"I have however minutes that you want to sit in this dingy place," Terezi responds, trying not to seem too relieved. "I wasn't really expecting visitors. Are you here to tell me about the error of my ways, too?" There's already been one or two of those. Terezi's not sure that she could deal with another.

[earthborn]

"Private, I think we can all see that you have been made aware of the consequences of hubris," Cool distance in her tone, echoed by the way the bench built into the cafeteria seating and the chair she's sitting in distance her from Terezi herself. She couldn't have made this look less like a collusion if she'd shouted from across the room-- but still, she isn't, and this is.

You have to play it close to your chest, never more than when they're always watching. And Shepard hasn't a breath of clean air, or a flash of free sky in years. She may yet die in this pretense, but that doesn't make it real. One word, subtle cue, something all the guards and the hidden recordings and the good intentions of the listeners at home couldn't pick up on, because they were only human.

And humans get old, get tired, get promoted and replaced. Humans work in shifts, and humans make mistakes.

"I could if you want. I'm pretty good at it, if you'll recall."

[pythianjudgment]

"I recall. The Queen of 'I Told You So's. If I am ever in need of haughty superiority, I know exactly where to turn." A bit harsher than Terezi would have described it otherwise. In truth, Shepard's advice and guidance had paid off a few times. She had military and tactical knowledge, and Terezi respected that.

"But don't let me stop you. I am sure you have better things to do with your time, so you might as well get on with it." She tries to look annoyed and pulls it off well. The guard must be tired of hearing her complaining, too. She wonders if he's asking himself why they bother to visit her yet, when all she does is rebuke their attempts to change her mind.

[earthborn]

"Aright, since you're asking for it literally, now."

She leaned back in her chair, and there was a strange moment of shift. Shepard vanished, somehow, into the subtle curve of spine, the change of weight, everything about her affected casualty fell away and she became something bigger, sharper, more official. It had taken just a moment, but the change was unmistakable, like a barked order, a call for attention delivered at parade grounds volume.

"I gave you one order; keep your head down, and take care of the people you had obligated yourself to. I asked you for that, for something that you wanted to do anyways. I made it easy. Easier than anyone else is going to make it on you, that's for damn sure. And now, I see that you ignored it: you took the risk anyways, for whatever you thought it was worth with the Rebellion, and it came to nothing," She pronounced each word slowly, unwavering stare, calm and coldly derisive. Even if she had to play the Capitol sympathizer, Shepard might have been kinder, but Shepard was not nice, was not gentle. Was not kind. And she had a role to play.

"I expected better from you. You let me down."

A

[lex_paciferat]

It's a shame, Quintus thinks. He'd rather liked Terezi.

He hadn't been aware of her record before this--the fact that she'd been a person of interest in the investigation of Penny's death, the brief jail time. He'd wondered, during their exchange after his Youth Program speech, whether her allegiance had been a ploy, because she'd seemed too eager about it, considering what hell the Capitol had put her through. He's seen enough of the world to know that true changes of heart are rare--lies to get by are far more common.

There's not much satisfaction in having his suspicions gratified, though. Sometimes, as impractical a desire as it is, he wishes his instincts were wrong more often.

The other men in the room stop and salute as he walks in, one of them still gripping Terezi's hair. They haven't gotten much out of her, from what he understands. He's been part of this process before, and he knows that some people take time to break. He also knows that someone has to act as the light at the end of the tunnel, the salvation, the means of escape.

He doesn't touch her right away, just waves the others away, pulls up a chair and rests an arm against the splattered tabletop.

"Hello, Terezi." His tone is mixed--falling between disappointment and pity, tinged with something like resignation.

Oh, how sick he is of being right.

[pythianjudgment]

Terezi would be startled to find Quintus suddenly in the room, except that her main concern is primarily getting air back into her lungs. She gasps when her head is yanked up, coughing and instinctively trying to lift her hands to push back the streams of water, despite the cuffs restraining her movement. It takes a few seconds for her to recognize anything else, and only after the reprieve has been too long.

She's guided back into the chair, and the other men leave. Hunching her shoulders, Terezi curls back against the chair, as far from Quintus as she can physically make herself. She looks smaller, feels smaller; and her frame trembles like a leaf. She tries to remember to take breaths, tries to remember to settle herself. Her hands clench, but it's a futile effort. She couldn't any more calm herself than psychically removes the cuffs on her wrists.

Quintus's greeting is met with a suspicious frown and a blank red stare. She doesn't say anything back. The guards and their guns are gone, but she's still a little afraid to. She used to sort of like Quintus. She's not sure if she does anymore.

[lex_paciferat]

"I always hate to see things end up like this," he says honestly, with a shake of his head. His eyes turn from her suspicion, fixing on the wall instead, and what emotion there is in his voice ebbs out in favor of a hollow aloofness. "I read your file. Seems you have a bit of an interesting history. It's always amazed me how easily the public forgives and forgets when it comes to celebrities. Me, I've dealt with repeat offenders, and I know damn well that past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. I never forget."

He glances back at her, his lips twisting into a smile, pulling back against his scar.

"Tell me, have you and Thirteen hatched a plot to kill me yet?"

[pythianjudgment]

If you hate to see things end up like this, then why are you here? The words run through Terezi's thoughts, but she doesn't voice them. She doesn't really want to talk to him at all. And yet, she knows that she doesn't have much choice in anything anymore. Her wants are not up for discussion. The past two hours have taught her that.

She expects Quintus to pick up where the other man left off, but her turns the conversation in a different direction. At the mention of her past arrest, a jolt of apprehension runs down her spine. Does he know? she thinks, but he turns back and asks her that; and the defensive answer is already on her lips.

"Being detained on charges of murder doesn't mean I had any part in it or any intention to copy it. You arrested half of the Tribute Center just to find one person." An exaggeration, but not a huge one. Out of seventy or eighty tributes, there was only about twenty that were detained. It's still a sizable amount of people to suspect of murder--especially knowing that only a fraction of them had anything to do with it.

But to more pointedly answer his question: "I didn't have any plans myself. If Thirteen had any plans, they didn't tell me about them. I'm an offworlder and a foot soldier. I didn't have a lot of say on what was mission critical."

[lex_paciferat]

"Well, I guess I'm glad I'm not the talk of the district." He tilts his head, resting it against his hand. "Though I'm sure you heard some kind of talk, contrary to what you've been telling my men. Why are you so set on keeping your mouth shut? What do you feel you owe Thirteen, being an offworlder and all?"

B

[sociopathicwolf]

Derek hadn't planned on going to see Terezi, not after the way their last encounter in the battlefield hospital had gone. He avoids the detainment center in general, because with the exception of Anna and Phi, the offworlders have proven way more trouble than they're worth. Better just to kill them on the battlefield and let the Capitol bring them back here if it thinks they're worth it.

But after talking to Meulin about Terezi, Derek couldn't help but come by, just to see her again. To try to figure out why Meulin seems to think she's worth something, to re-evaluate her now that he knows that she might be important to someone in his pack.

And to warn her of what will happen if she even thinks about hurting Meulin.

He's pacing when they bring her in, but then he sits down at the table - if only to make the guard eye him a little less.

"Meulin came to see you."

[pythianjudgment]

As soon as Terezi realizes who her visitor is this time, she tenses. She would have bolted from the room, if the guard hadn't noticed her stopping and put a hand on her shoulder. She's directed to the seat. Technically, she has a right to refuse her visitors, but that might not be the case once she's already out here. Or maybe this particular guard just gets off on being an asshole.

Her posture is stiff, back straight and eyes narrowed on the man in front of her. Her mouth is set in an unhappy line, like she's biting her tongue from telling him to fuck off. In fact, that might be exactly what she's doing.

When he does speak to her, he has the benefit of seeing the flash of surprise that wipes that sour expression from her face for a brief moment. In it's wake, there's a wall of suspicion put up instead.

"Yeah. And?" The silence that sits after that retort is brief. "Are you adding stalking to your list of crimes against me now?"

[sociopathicwolf]

His eyes narrow at her in return, and then he cocks his head at her like he's having trouble figuring out what she means. Which, well, he kind of is; he's not sure what crimes he's supposed to have committed against her. He knows one - it's not a crime to kill an enemy combatant in a war, but she'd called him her murderer, so he knows she must believe it to be one. Stupid, and Derek wouldn't bother with her normally, but...

But Meulin.

"She told me. District Four."

He doesn't feel the need to explain more than that. It should be easy to make the connection that as Meulin is from District Four and he's one of District Four's Victors, they're friends. Derek doesn't consider that it might not be, or even that a year ago he wouldn't have made the connection himself, wouldn't have admitted they were friends.

Instead he watches her, uncertain and wary.

"Why are you better than me?"

[pythianjudgment]

District Four. Yeah, Terezi gets the hint from that. Terezi hadn't paid much attention to the people that Meulin had hung around before she was whisked off to District Thirteen, but she vaguely remembers something about the Victors from District Four. Maybe she should have taken better care to keep tabs on her associates. She has to wonder if this guy has more dirt on his hands than just blood.

Already she doesn't want to be in this chair, listening to this guy talk. It was bad enough that she had to put up with him during the mission. Does he have to harass her here, too? When he opens his mouth to speak, she's already preparing to deliver some kind of scathing retort. Something that will make him think twice about wasting his time over here again.

Instead, what she gets is a question that she didn't expect. Why are you better than me? Her brow furrows, and she has half a mind to make sure she's not being punked somehow. Her response is eloquent as ever:

"What?"

[quiethumerus]

Between Derek and Meulin, while both tend to secrecy it is in lesser ways than he and so Kurloz becomes aware that visits have been made. Visits here. Visits with her. It is not the rational part that brings him to her.

It is entirely darker things that he gives in to with enough time. Jealousy, anger, fear. He's not certain that he really want to say anything, let alone here from her. No, what he really wants is to be sure she's not... impeding on anything of his.

He keeps thinking of Latula in his mind. He keeps thinking of being sent away. His fists curl upon his knees but his smile remains wide.

[pythianjudgment]

Her visitors keep getting stranger and stranger. Meulin she could understand. Derek almost made sense, but Terezi freezes when she finds that Kurloz is her newest conversation companion. He strikes at something familiar in her thoughts, and suddenly she misses her own Kurloz so deeply. For a moment, she wishes that she could trade them out in her mind, but that would be a disservice to her matesprit. She couldn't replace him, not even with someone who smells so similar. Besides, she already knew this one was broken...

"Hi," she greets him with a dry edge to her voice. After Derek's visit, she has to wonder if this is going to be more of the same. "Are you here to complain about my other visitors, too?"

[quiethumerus]

It is nearly instantaneous that he finds himself frustrated. As one who prides himself for his secrets, being worked out within less than a moment's notice does not do. His smile was already drawn far too tight to be convincing, he's aware.

He breathes deep, steadying, but not caring much if it appears to condescension. His head bops slightly from side to side, a deliberate motion to suggest that his decision has not been made just yet. It depends.

He points to her, then lets that hand become a fist on the table. His other hand becomes a cage over top. It lifts only to point to himself before falling back in place. He looks meaningfully at her as he lifts the finger cage of the hand representing her. I can free you.

[pythianjudgment]

Not quite a yes, but not quite a no either. She would have figured him to be as unhappy with her as Derek was before him. Maybe moreso, considering her suspicions about Meulin's change in attitude. But that doesn't seem to be what he wants to talk about.

Instead she feels almost mocked by the way that he motions to her and them mimes and cage coming down over her. Yes, she's been captured. How observant. But he keeps going, and his gestures are even stranger. She smells the hand cage lift in a very purposeful fashion, and she feels like a proposition is being made to her. One that she's not sure she wants any part of.

Freedom? she signs, making a motion with her arms uncrossing, like the breaking of chains. She doesn't know if he'll recognize the signs, but Initiate had learned his sign language from a troll version of the man sitting across from her. It doesn't seem like so much of a stretch. She keeps going, waiting for some kind of recognition in him.

I doubt you are planning a jail break.