Vlad stood in his sound proof box, staring out at the horrors that befell before him. It was torture being helpless. His gaze couldn't decide what to focus on... Hanne as she tried to work her magic and help his brother. Or Ivy, beaten to a bloody silence on the floor. Vlad had seen her brought back to her cell after an escape attempt, yet somehow he felt like this was worse. Much worse. He more than anyone knew what it was like to be on the tail end of the guards, but he was muscular and burly compared to the thin and fragile raven haired woman.
He reluctantly put his gag back on before the guards finally released him from the box. Vlad had to fight the urge to kick the guard in the balls and run to his brother. Maybe if he timed it right, he could get Hawke out of there. Ivy didn't look like she'd be putting up much of a fight, but then again he never saw her fight the guards, just heard the stories. Maybe she had a reserve of energy? Specter had full juice. Novak might be a little spazzed from the electrocution. If he could get help, he could carry Hawke, and—
Vlad was shoved forward, losing his footing, nearly falling to his knees. Silly pipe dreams. No way would something so haphazard be successful. He pick up his footing, not in the mood to have the guards hands all over him, shoving him forward. Vlad was lead toward the front of the line, intentionally keeping Novak, Specter and Hanne between himself and his brother. What did they expect a mute and a half dead man to do?
When they reached the cellblock, something came over Vlad that he wasn't expecting. Before the thought fully overcame him, his right hand extended, lightly brushing Ivy's back. Part of it was his subconscious. Something inside him felt the need to thank her. If anyone was able to do something to help Hawke, it was Hanne... She knew that. She took a beating, and who knew if the guards would even listen to her? Ivy turned her head slightly, brown saucers peered up from beneath the curtain of raven hair.
Vlad held her gaze for only a brief moment, although it felt longer. He couldn't say thank you. Physically and ethically. He had never been the type to show any gratitude or appreciation to anyone. Growing up in a place like this made him cold... Gratitude felt like a foreign emotion. Then, before his hand left her back, he let his fingers subtly loosen a strap on her straitjacket. He'd seen it before where they left her in that dreadful thing for days. It wasn't much... But all he could do before the guards grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him into his cell.
Ivy's brows furrowed when she felt Vlad's fingers loosen the buckle of her straitjacket. As long as she had known Vlad, he never once showed her a single fraction of a kindness. The brief physical contact was the first non-threatening touch she had experienced in over two years. But it was ripped away as quickly as it happened as she was herd into her cell. Ivy stood in the doorway, with her back toward the guards as she did after every meal, waiting for her jacket to be removed.
Her back was met by the blunt force her cell door being slammed shut on her. The momentum knocked her off balance and sent her to the ground. She fell to her knees and without her hands to catch her, Ivy tipped over, hitting her already sore head on the cold hard concrete. Her eyes tightly shut, as her ears began to ring, but she didn't allow herself to make any noise of discomfort. He didn't deserve the satisfaction.
"Sleep well, 2623. Tomorrow is your day," he said to her in a menacing tone. No doubt he intended on making sure her time with the doctors was extra long and torturous.
Ivy didn't move from where she laid on the ground as the guards filed out of the cellblock. Then the lights shut off, premature by hours. In the safety, privacy and comfort of the dark Ivy let her facade fall. She slowly curled her knees in toward herself, moving into a fetal position as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. What adrenalin that had been coursing through her veins quickly wore off. Her body shook and trembled slightly as her nerves took in the full extent of her pain.
Specter followed orders without a single hitch or contradiction. After all, what was he to do? There isn't much an intangible person could do in a situation like that beside sit by and remain silent. Spec hated that. It wasn't that he was complacent, but the lack of capability to do anything. For all their lives all their decisions have been made for them as they've been groomed... For something. Who knew what that was?
In the darkened silence, Specter paced around his small cell from side to side. He wanted to ask Hawke if he was ok, if he was in there. But, what would that do? Hawke's mind was probably like someone removed the flood gates and all their thoughts were bombarding him like a tsunami all at once. Verbalizing his concerns and worries would be fruitless. If Hawke was ok, he could hear him. And if he wasn't... Specter didn't really want to think about that at the current moment.
The silence of the cellblock was unbearable. Clenching his teeth, Specter ball up his fist and hit the wall. He looked over toward Hawke who was at least sitting up. That had to be something right? That was more than what he did when the guards first brought him back to the cafeteria. Hopefully Hanne was able to do something. Specter didn't want to think about how the group would quickly crumble if something happened to Hawke. He was, without a doubt, the glue that kept them all sane.
Specter's steps slowed as his gaze focused on the dark concrete wall before him. Since the lights when out, he hadn't heard anything from Ivy. Not that she was particularly talkative, but there was nothing. Not the sounds of her footsteps, or the usual rustling of her trying to get out of her straitjacket when the prick guards left it on her. He preferred to give the others their privacy, but he allowed his vision to look past the wall into her cell. Ivy laid unmoving on the ground. Specter took a step toward the wall that separated them, slowly raising his hands, pressing his palms against the smooth surface. He knew there was an electrical currant that ran through the walls, but regards, he had to try.
Specter took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He imaged himself like a cloud of mist. Like all the molecules of his body were fluid like the air, free to travel and traverse anything beyond the physical. He pressed his hands through the wall. Halfway through, he was met with a sharp, alarming zap. He winced and quickly withdrew, cupping his palms together as he ringed his hands. He sighed, closing his eyes.
He couldn't help but break the silence, worried that the guard's heartlessness gave he a concussion. If she had received extensive head trauma and was unconscious... Specter didn't want to think about what he had read in some of the anatomy books. "Ivy?! Are you ok?" After a long moment, he closed his eyes, allowing his forehead to rest against the wall. "Just say something... Please?"
Ivy sniffled back her tears, taking a deep breath. With as much effort as she could muster, she squirmed toward the glass wall that looked out toward the other cells. Using it for support, Ivy managed to sit up somewhat, resting her head back against the glass. She slowly glanced back over her shoulder toward Hawke's cell, seeing him sitting... Or slumped against the wall. It was something. She closed her eyes, sighing softly. Ivy was glad to know at least something came from what she did.
She sniffed once more, before nodding her head in response to Specter. Ivy sighed shortly after at the realization that he couldn't see nor hear a nod. "I'm alive..." her voiced croaked, quiet and barely audible.
"Listen... You have to try and stay awake. You've received extensive head trauma. If... If you fall asleep, you might not wake up."
Ivy didn't respond, or ask for details about what he meant. She recalled something about that in his books that he shared with them all. What was it... A coma? It sounded worse than death, being in your body but unable to function. You could wake up with no brain function twenty years later, or die in your sleep. Luckily for Ivy, the pounding in her head and the ringing in her ears wasn't going to allow her to sleep anytime soon. And worse, the silence in the cellblock was deafening.
He reluctantly put his gag back on before the guards finally released him from the box. Vlad had to fight the urge to kick the guard in the balls and run to his brother. Maybe if he timed it right, he could get Hawke out of there. Ivy didn't look like she'd be putting up much of a fight, but then again he never saw her fight the guards, just heard the stories. Maybe she had a reserve of energy? Specter had full juice. Novak might be a little spazzed from the electrocution. If he could get help, he could carry Hawke, and—
Vlad was shoved forward, losing his footing, nearly falling to his knees. Silly pipe dreams. No way would something so haphazard be successful. He pick up his footing, not in the mood to have the guards hands all over him, shoving him forward. Vlad was lead toward the front of the line, intentionally keeping Novak, Specter and Hanne between himself and his brother. What did they expect a mute and a half dead man to do?
When they reached the cellblock, something came over Vlad that he wasn't expecting. Before the thought fully overcame him, his right hand extended, lightly brushing Ivy's back. Part of it was his subconscious. Something inside him felt the need to thank her. If anyone was able to do something to help Hawke, it was Hanne... She knew that. She took a beating, and who knew if the guards would even listen to her? Ivy turned her head slightly, brown saucers peered up from beneath the curtain of raven hair.
Vlad held her gaze for only a brief moment, although it felt longer. He couldn't say thank you. Physically and ethically. He had never been the type to show any gratitude or appreciation to anyone. Growing up in a place like this made him cold... Gratitude felt like a foreign emotion. Then, before his hand left her back, he let his fingers subtly loosen a strap on her straitjacket. He'd seen it before where they left her in that dreadful thing for days. It wasn't much... But all he could do before the guards grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him into his cell.
Ivy's brows furrowed when she felt Vlad's fingers loosen the buckle of her straitjacket. As long as she had known Vlad, he never once showed her a single fraction of a kindness. The brief physical contact was the first non-threatening touch she had experienced in over two years. But it was ripped away as quickly as it happened as she was herd into her cell. Ivy stood in the doorway, with her back toward the guards as she did after every meal, waiting for her jacket to be removed.
Her back was met by the blunt force her cell door being slammed shut on her. The momentum knocked her off balance and sent her to the ground. She fell to her knees and without her hands to catch her, Ivy tipped over, hitting her already sore head on the cold hard concrete. Her eyes tightly shut, as her ears began to ring, but she didn't allow herself to make any noise of discomfort. He didn't deserve the satisfaction.
"Sleep well, 2623. Tomorrow is your day," he said to her in a menacing tone. No doubt he intended on making sure her time with the doctors was extra long and torturous.
Ivy didn't move from where she laid on the ground as the guards filed out of the cellblock. Then the lights shut off, premature by hours. In the safety, privacy and comfort of the dark Ivy let her facade fall. She slowly curled her knees in toward herself, moving into a fetal position as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. What adrenalin that had been coursing through her veins quickly wore off. Her body shook and trembled slightly as her nerves took in the full extent of her pain.
Specter followed orders without a single hitch or contradiction. After all, what was he to do? There isn't much an intangible person could do in a situation like that beside sit by and remain silent. Spec hated that. It wasn't that he was complacent, but the lack of capability to do anything. For all their lives all their decisions have been made for them as they've been groomed... For something. Who knew what that was?
In the darkened silence, Specter paced around his small cell from side to side. He wanted to ask Hawke if he was ok, if he was in there. But, what would that do? Hawke's mind was probably like someone removed the flood gates and all their thoughts were bombarding him like a tsunami all at once. Verbalizing his concerns and worries would be fruitless. If Hawke was ok, he could hear him. And if he wasn't... Specter didn't really want to think about that at the current moment.
The silence of the cellblock was unbearable. Clenching his teeth, Specter ball up his fist and hit the wall. He looked over toward Hawke who was at least sitting up. That had to be something right? That was more than what he did when the guards first brought him back to the cafeteria. Hopefully Hanne was able to do something. Specter didn't want to think about how the group would quickly crumble if something happened to Hawke. He was, without a doubt, the glue that kept them all sane.
Specter's steps slowed as his gaze focused on the dark concrete wall before him. Since the lights when out, he hadn't heard anything from Ivy. Not that she was particularly talkative, but there was nothing. Not the sounds of her footsteps, or the usual rustling of her trying to get out of her straitjacket when the prick guards left it on her. He preferred to give the others their privacy, but he allowed his vision to look past the wall into her cell. Ivy laid unmoving on the ground. Specter took a step toward the wall that separated them, slowly raising his hands, pressing his palms against the smooth surface. He knew there was an electrical currant that ran through the walls, but regards, he had to try.
Specter took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He imaged himself like a cloud of mist. Like all the molecules of his body were fluid like the air, free to travel and traverse anything beyond the physical. He pressed his hands through the wall. Halfway through, he was met with a sharp, alarming zap. He winced and quickly withdrew, cupping his palms together as he ringed his hands. He sighed, closing his eyes.
He couldn't help but break the silence, worried that the guard's heartlessness gave he a concussion. If she had received extensive head trauma and was unconscious... Specter didn't want to think about what he had read in some of the anatomy books. "Ivy?! Are you ok?" After a long moment, he closed his eyes, allowing his forehead to rest against the wall. "Just say something... Please?"
Ivy sniffled back her tears, taking a deep breath. With as much effort as she could muster, she squirmed toward the glass wall that looked out toward the other cells. Using it for support, Ivy managed to sit up somewhat, resting her head back against the glass. She slowly glanced back over her shoulder toward Hawke's cell, seeing him sitting... Or slumped against the wall. It was something. She closed her eyes, sighing softly. Ivy was glad to know at least something came from what she did.
She sniffed once more, before nodding her head in response to Specter. Ivy sighed shortly after at the realization that he couldn't see nor hear a nod. "I'm alive..." her voiced croaked, quiet and barely audible.
"Listen... You have to try and stay awake. You've received extensive head trauma. If... If you fall asleep, you might not wake up."
Ivy didn't respond, or ask for details about what he meant. She recalled something about that in his books that he shared with them all. What was it... A coma? It sounded worse than death, being in your body but unable to function. You could wake up with no brain function twenty years later, or die in your sleep. Luckily for Ivy, the pounding in her head and the ringing in her ears wasn't going to allow her to sleep anytime soon. And worse, the silence in the cellblock was deafening.