[Nemesis has never been here, and honestly would've been fine never having been here--wayyy too dark, way too chaining her to the wall, which y'know, no thanks.
With a yelp she struggles hard, furiously attempting to pull the manacles open, or loosen the chains, or just not be held down-- before reining in the spike of terror in her gut and taking the opportunity to look around. Who is here? How far apart are they? Does her arm work, do her powers work?]
[ the next sound is shackles materializing on their ankles - - these are what will prevent their powers from working, though any robot limbs will still function. their bindings won't break with the amount of force they try to put out.
Something blocks the light from the hallway - - before it clearly becomes the outline of a tall figure that enters, holding a candle. Only the candle lights up their... Face?
Actually, it's not a regular face at all. It's an elongated goat skull, with windy, twisted horns emerging from the back of it. There may be a face underneath the skull but it's darkened by shadow. The hand holding the candle is gloved, and they're wearing a dark cloak that drapes over their body.
Their voice doesn't help narrow down their identity; it seems warped, filtered to the point of unrecognizablility. ]
[Still testing his boundaries, as best he's able, yanking against the bindings. Do the manacles and shackles hold them flush against the wall, or is there any give?]
I mean... if you like cold dark and medieval, I guess?
[Thrashing around, while by far the most attractive course of action in this scenario is probably not the wisest. Somehow she reins her nervous energy in to just a twisting of her wrists, as if maybe she could work her hands through the manacles, given enough time. This is what she gets for not going with the rocket fist, sigh.
Otherwise she scowls at the goat(?) man--squints, really, attempting to look for any details on the person, (carrying any weapons? notable items? distinguishing marks?), and figure out how big this room is--how much distance there is between her and them, just in case)]
[ there's about a foot of give away from the wall for the manacles, enough that they can move around a little but not by much.
the goat person laughs - - there's nothing really distinguishable about them, with their face, hands, and body covered. the most noticeable thing is probably how tall they are, almost as tall as the low ceiling of the dungeon, though when they walk closer there's also the sound of heavy boots that may account for the height.
At this point, they're still a few feet away as they speak. ]
I only wanted to borrow you both for a spell. As for my identity... Well, let's keep that a surprise, shall we?
[He doesn't stop twisting at the manacles, trying to force his hands through - people getting out of handcuffs by dislocating a thumb is totally a thing, right? - but he does stop yanking quite so hard, the limits of his mobility determined.]
[He is in earnest trying to squeeze out of the manacles, now - drawing his thumb in tight to the palm and pulling down hard. He's cut his own hand off; dislocating a thumb should be a cakewalk, right? Assuming these manacles have enough give, anyway.]
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crossmyheartandhope) wrote2036-12-02 03:00 am
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[He woke up here, last time they were in the House.]
[Even as the manacles are closing, he jerks forward against them, hard, trying to break free.]
Wh -
What the hell - ?
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With a yelp she struggles hard, furiously attempting to pull the manacles open, or loosen the chains, or just not be held down-- before reining in the spike of terror in her gut and taking the opportunity to look around. Who is here? How far apart are they? Does her arm work, do her powers work?]
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Something blocks the light from the hallway - - before it clearly becomes the outline of a tall figure that enters, holding a candle. Only the candle lights up their... Face?
Actually, it's not a regular face at all. It's an elongated goat skull, with windy, twisted horns emerging from the back of it. There may be a face underneath the skull but it's darkened by shadow. The hand holding the candle is gloved, and they're wearing a dark cloak that drapes over their body.
Their voice doesn't help narrow down their identity; it seems warped, filtered to the point of unrecognizablility. ]
I hope it's not too uncomfortable for you?
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I mean... if you like cold dark and medieval, I guess?
What - why are we here, what's going on?
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Otherwise she scowls at the goat(?) man--squints, really, attempting to look for any details on the person, (carrying any weapons? notable items? distinguishing marks?), and figure out how big this room is--how much distance there is between her and them, just in case)]
Who are you? What d'you want with us?
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the goat person laughs - - there's nothing really distinguishable about them, with their face, hands, and body covered. the most noticeable thing is probably how tall they are, almost as tall as the low ceiling of the dungeon, though when they walk closer there's also the sound of heavy boots that may account for the height.
At this point, they're still a few feet away as they speak. ]
I only wanted to borrow you both for a spell. As for my identity... Well, let's keep that a surprise, shall we?
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Yeah, well - you got us. So what gives?
How come we're here again?
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Yeah, we just the only idiots that responded to your text? Or you got some other dipshits locked up down the hall?
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I found it to be convenient - - the location, that is. We're not likely to be disturbed here.
And don't worry - - you've both been exclusively chosen!
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Convenient, huh? Lucky us.
How come our number came up, anyways? We win the all expenses paid vacation?
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Funny that; this don't seem much like Disney Sea.
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...yeah? Who we talking, here?
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Oh, maybe we should guess. Intensity, right? You wanna know if the abs are real?
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Would he really be worth all the trouble of kidnapping you?
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I woulda said nobody was, but I'm not the guy who's got people roped up in a dungeon.
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Guess news gets around, huh?
Then maybe you heard the next part, too: he's kinda MIA.
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[ they start to walk, as they speak, grabbing pliers. ]
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What kinda test are we talking, here?
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Yeah, maybe I would've studied. Didn't remember my number-two pencil or anything.
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Oh, you needn't worry about that. It's not the sort of test one must study for.
In fact, it's more of a test for that angel.
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[He is in earnest trying to squeeze out of the manacles, now - drawing his thumb in tight to the palm and pulling down hard. He's cut his own hand off; dislocating a thumb should be a cakewalk, right? Assuming these manacles have enough give, anyway.]
What's he getting tested on?
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