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paradisalogs2014-05-31 07:53 pm
apocashrriipp) wrote in paradisalogs2014-05-31 07:53 pm
Entry tags:
Spat From The Belly of Hell (Open)
Who: Paige Guthrie and Open*
What: Paige's arrival at Paradisa
When: 31st May
Where: Courtyard
Rating: PG
* Open yes, but the chains and collar she's arrived in will, obviously, only be able to be removed once. Otherwise have at her.
Before The Pull
The world was bruised. Groaning under the weight of Apocalypse's reign. There were pockets of heroes still but in here, the core, any heroes that existed are suppressed, powers choked by the suppressive weight of an inhibitor collar. Then their spirits are broken. They shuffle through the core, slaves to it with barely a word between them. Only the new ones make noise. Ask questions, rage for justice, demand they lobby together to fight back, then weep for their mothers.
Paige Guthrie had been one such hero. She went down swinging and fought tooth and nail. She fought when they put the collar on. She fought when they drilled her for information. She fought when they slapped her in chains and put her to work. She's silent now, like the others, Paige drags herself through the days, mourning her team-mates and turning her escape over and over in her mind. She could do little with the inhibitor collar, smothering her powers. The itch, only a few weeks in, was unbearable. The need to shed was almost too much and in the snatches of sleep that came, Paige managed to maim herself, fingers scratching, digging at her flesh so hard she woke to bloodied fingers. The scars that formed bother her. She knows they're temporary, that as soon as the collar is gone she can get rid of them but...it feels wrong. Dirty, to exist in a damaged body for longer than necessary.
Today, this fateful day, Paige traipses through the core, through the deep underground layers of the power plant where humans and mutants are forced into labour. Her dark hair was thick with muck and plastered to her head, the healthy gloss of her red hair has been destroyed rapidly by the atmosphere here. Her uniform was long gone, replaced by a grey jumpsuit that is as worn and torn as its bearer. She walked in line with the others, monitored by a guard that urges them forward with barked orders. Chained at her hands and at her feet, eyes staring at a fixed point on the back of the head of the person in front of her. So focussed is she that when they pull up short, she ploughs into the back of them, knocking him and the two people before him flat.
"You! Forward!" The guard spat. Paige afforded him a dark scowl. She obeyed, weary feet taking that first fateful step forward. She never broke her glare. It didn't deter the guard, who reached forward, grasping her jaw in his thick fingers. He yanked her head back.
"Do you know what the punishment is for an inmate attacking another?"
For an instant she said nothing. The silence stretched out, the mounting tension like a tautly pulled string.
When she spoke, the first time it came out it was muffled, her throat clogged by the same muck that polluted her hair.
"Run that by me again." He ordered. Paige, clinging to what embers were left of her vibrant spark, cleared her throat, and took her life in her hands.
She pursed her lips and spat. The dark, sticky fluid that had collected there throughout the day left her mouth in a vile spray that struck him square in the face. Around her, the silence perpetuated, people watched but they did not interfere. It was more than their lives were worth.
The rage that bloomed across his face was, in retrospect, something she would have liked to enjoy for a split second longer. Unfortunately, she wouldn't get the pleasure.
Paradisa
Paige appeared in the courtyard, the sounds of his curses still ringing in her ears. The light from the sun hit, and hurt her first. Then the noise did. Nothing deafening or unusual. The sounds of birds, of people, odd the complete absence of the roar of the reactor.
Pain shot briefly through her head, the act of memories Paradisa had tended in her absence being dumped back in their rightful place. The shock, the looming, suddenly familiar feeling, and oh, that sweet air was more than she could take. Her unstable, chained feet gave out beneath her, knees striking the path with what should have been a healthy dose of pain. She didn't feel it. She couldn't feel it. It had come for her again and its timing was perfection. She didn't overthink why or what might happen when she returned. Instead, head bowed, Paige curled her fingers in the gravel bowed her head and, for the first time in her life, she wept with joy.
To a witness she would be a frightful sight; hair dank and matted, plastered to her head, her skin mucky and smudged with filth, her hands and feet chained with heavy links attached to thick cuffs. Around her neck is a serious piece of kit; an inhibitor collar; a choker, lit up at the front with a single, ominous looking yellow light.
What: Paige's arrival at Paradisa
When: 31st May
Where: Courtyard
Rating: PG
* Open yes, but the chains and collar she's arrived in will, obviously, only be able to be removed once. Otherwise have at her.
Before The Pull
The world was bruised. Groaning under the weight of Apocalypse's reign. There were pockets of heroes still but in here, the core, any heroes that existed are suppressed, powers choked by the suppressive weight of an inhibitor collar. Then their spirits are broken. They shuffle through the core, slaves to it with barely a word between them. Only the new ones make noise. Ask questions, rage for justice, demand they lobby together to fight back, then weep for their mothers.
Paige Guthrie had been one such hero. She went down swinging and fought tooth and nail. She fought when they put the collar on. She fought when they drilled her for information. She fought when they slapped her in chains and put her to work. She's silent now, like the others, Paige drags herself through the days, mourning her team-mates and turning her escape over and over in her mind. She could do little with the inhibitor collar, smothering her powers. The itch, only a few weeks in, was unbearable. The need to shed was almost too much and in the snatches of sleep that came, Paige managed to maim herself, fingers scratching, digging at her flesh so hard she woke to bloodied fingers. The scars that formed bother her. She knows they're temporary, that as soon as the collar is gone she can get rid of them but...it feels wrong. Dirty, to exist in a damaged body for longer than necessary.
Today, this fateful day, Paige traipses through the core, through the deep underground layers of the power plant where humans and mutants are forced into labour. Her dark hair was thick with muck and plastered to her head, the healthy gloss of her red hair has been destroyed rapidly by the atmosphere here. Her uniform was long gone, replaced by a grey jumpsuit that is as worn and torn as its bearer. She walked in line with the others, monitored by a guard that urges them forward with barked orders. Chained at her hands and at her feet, eyes staring at a fixed point on the back of the head of the person in front of her. So focussed is she that when they pull up short, she ploughs into the back of them, knocking him and the two people before him flat.
"You! Forward!" The guard spat. Paige afforded him a dark scowl. She obeyed, weary feet taking that first fateful step forward. She never broke her glare. It didn't deter the guard, who reached forward, grasping her jaw in his thick fingers. He yanked her head back.
"Do you know what the punishment is for an inmate attacking another?"
For an instant she said nothing. The silence stretched out, the mounting tension like a tautly pulled string.
When she spoke, the first time it came out it was muffled, her throat clogged by the same muck that polluted her hair.
"Run that by me again." He ordered. Paige, clinging to what embers were left of her vibrant spark, cleared her throat, and took her life in her hands.
She pursed her lips and spat. The dark, sticky fluid that had collected there throughout the day left her mouth in a vile spray that struck him square in the face. Around her, the silence perpetuated, people watched but they did not interfere. It was more than their lives were worth.
The rage that bloomed across his face was, in retrospect, something she would have liked to enjoy for a split second longer. Unfortunately, she wouldn't get the pleasure.
Paradisa
Paige appeared in the courtyard, the sounds of his curses still ringing in her ears. The light from the sun hit, and hurt her first. Then the noise did. Nothing deafening or unusual. The sounds of birds, of people, odd the complete absence of the roar of the reactor.
Pain shot briefly through her head, the act of memories Paradisa had tended in her absence being dumped back in their rightful place. The shock, the looming, suddenly familiar feeling, and oh, that sweet air was more than she could take. Her unstable, chained feet gave out beneath her, knees striking the path with what should have been a healthy dose of pain. She didn't feel it. She couldn't feel it. It had come for her again and its timing was perfection. She didn't overthink why or what might happen when she returned. Instead, head bowed, Paige curled her fingers in the gravel bowed her head and, for the first time in her life, she wept with joy.
To a witness she would be a frightful sight; hair dank and matted, plastered to her head, her skin mucky and smudged with filth, her hands and feet chained with heavy links attached to thick cuffs. Around her neck is a serious piece of kit; an inhibitor collar; a choker, lit up at the front with a single, ominous looking yellow light.
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That's when he notices her. The oddly familiar, and yet wrong feeling of something borne of his own sick mind, his own selfish mistakes. It's all he can do not to bolt for the Doctor's TARDIS, to hide himself away until whoever it was, was gone again.
Instead, he forces himself outside, slipping easily out of the castle, with nary a witness to his destination. She's easy enough to find, this ruined thing from a world that wasn't meant to exist, but David hold back, watching her from a distance, while he tries to reconcile the presence of someone from the Age of Apocalypse in Paradisa. Slowly, he approaches her, his hands dug deeply in his pockets.
"Why's it that this place always bloody takes us at our worst, eh?"
David crouches down so he's at eye-level with Paige, taking in the sight of her with his mismatched green-and-blue eyes. He recognizes the collar almost immediately. It's a little more high-tech, but there was no mistaking a mutant inhibitor collar.
"Want me ta get that wee nasty thing off o' you? I've seen what those things do ta people if left in 'em for too long.
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