[Action/Forward dated to 10/11]honorthecodeOctober 12 2011, 06:06:56 UTC
[It was three days after Don and Robert were kidnapped, when Leonardo was dragged in by the bots and tossed in a cell. Stripped of his gear, including his swords. He was left new feather clothes, but for now he's refusing to wear them. Since he woke up, he's been trying to find a way to escape the cell. But so far it's proven futile.]
It's dark and it's cold and Robert is in the half-catatonia that comes from being relentlessly experimented on for a few days. His frail body has been given a chance to recuperate, but his mind still swims, hazy from anaesthetics that combine in unsettlingly familiar ways, harking back from half a decade ago.
He's terrified, honestly. But more for Don than him; what atrocious things are they doing to his lover? Right now he can't even see him, despite having his fingers hooked clawlike through the bars, peering through, an animal trapped in a cage.
There's another presence in the cage across the sterile white hall (why does it have to remind him so disgustingly much of the Institute?), is there? For a moment, Robert dares to hope, at the barest edge of green hidden in the shadows...]
... D-D... D-Don...?
[His voice is dry, with a hollowness that betrays how much damage this captivity has done in three days.]
[Leo's noticed the cold. He hasn't seen or heard Don which is making him agitated. Not knowing what they could possibly be doing to his brother. He's pacing his cell, or at least as much as he can, when he hears the voice. He glances at the cell across from his. He probably noticed Robert earlier.]
L-Leonardo...? [Robert blinks confusedly a moment. He thought he might've seen the other turtle, when he was clinging to Don - but didn't they leave him?
... Now they must have decided that they needed another subject.
The little scientist's shoulders shake as he reflexively wrings his hands, conscious of his bare arms and their painful-looking scars even now and hoping Leo can't make them out in the gloom.]
[Some days after Robert's kidnapping, he may be surprised to see a large, familiar figure dragged to a cell very close to his. Eggman is dressed in New Feather garb like many others, and from the looks of him he's been kidnapped for quite some time.
It's just lucky he's not a squirrel or something, but he is fairly weak and has a variety of marks on his body. As he's locked in his cage, he slumps to the ground, leaning against the wall. He'd had some fight in him before, but most of it is gone now.]
[Days have been blending into each other; Robert's usually impeccable time sense is distorted by courses of drugs in between relentless abuse to his frame. Sometime during this particular day - he isn't sure when exactly - the Malnosso decided to toy with the few patches of unbroken skin on his arms, and the resulting horror of the intrusion, coupled with the far-too-familiar drugging, made him simply curl up brokenly on the floor near the bars.
This? This is hell.
He doesn't even notice Eggman at first until the organic sound of flesh hitting the floor catches his attention. He's been desperately trying to locate Don, to no real avail - that's the most torturous thing, keeping him apart from the lover he tried to protect - and anything is a better lead than what he has.
But... peering blearily through the gloom, he can tell right away it isn't Don. No shell, much taller and heavier, and is that a moustache...?]
... h-hello...? [His voice sounds weak and broken even to him.]
[Eggman's been put on a few drugs himself and is only vaguely aware of the quiet voice calling. He turns his head slowly, not answering the call until he can identify who that is. Even in this subdued state, he's still not willing to talk to any Malnosso who might be addressing him.
That pathetic, curled up creature, is that who was addressing him? That is, if the call was even directed to him. Either way, the doctor thinks he recognises the prisoner.]
Professor Hastings. [It's a statement, and not even a particularly surprised one.] So you are here too.
[As exhausted and pathetic as Robert might be right now, he still recognizes voices. Eggman's is immediately identifiable, and it fills him with equal parts of sadness and relief.]
D-Doctor Robotnik... [Robert braces himself against the bars, enough to blink hazily over at the fellow scientist.] ... You... you m-must have been here... for a long time. [Because his drug-addled brain can't recall the doctor being anywhere during the past event...]
... th-they took Don and myself... a f-few days ago. [Not very long. But long enough to get a taste of the horror.]
Backdated to 10/15i_speak_softlyOctober 17 2011, 19:50:38 UTC
[Don is alone for an entire week. That is, alone save for the near-constant attentions of the Malnosso scientists. He's already learned not to expect much of a respite when he's thrown into a cell.]
[Today he's brought to a different cell. Not that he's aware of this: from the fact that he isn't fighting, isn't struggling, it should be evident to anyone watching that he's barely conscious.]
[The droids throw him on the floor, lock the door, and walk out of the room, leaving Don just on the other side of the bars from his partner - also across from his brother and not far from a member of his science club, if they haven't been moved again. No sound escapes from him as he lies there, motionless and blind to his surroundings.]
[Robert had given up on seeing Don again anytime soon by this point, and so when the familiar clanking of the droids sounds in the sterile hallway, he almost doesn't look up.
But the loudness suggests they're coming his way, and so he raises his head blearily, just enough to catch a flash of olive green against stark grays and whites...
... And then the loud bodily whump of organics hitting the floor.
It's Don. It's Don's clinging-to-consciousness form, but it's Don and Robert feels a surge of almost painful relief. He'd cry if he had any tears left.
But he doesn't. So instead, he brings himself over to the bars, slowly, as if Don's just another drug-induced hallucination.]
[He flinches away at that feral growl like he's been shot. Never mind the week or more of being experimented on, that sound of anger levelled seemingly at him hurts more than anything the Malnosso could do.]
S-Sorry... [It's a small, choked-out reflex, through a voice dry and raspy and ragged-edged, and then Robert withdraws into himself, looking even more like the little broken husk that this torture has reduced him to.]
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It's dark and it's cold and Robert is in the half-catatonia that comes from being relentlessly experimented on for a few days. His frail body has been given a chance to recuperate, but his mind still swims, hazy from anaesthetics that combine in unsettlingly familiar ways, harking back from half a decade ago.
He's terrified, honestly. But more for Don than him; what atrocious things are they doing to his lover? Right now he can't even see him, despite having his fingers hooked clawlike through the bars, peering through, an animal trapped in a cage.
There's another presence in the cage across the sterile white hall (why does it have to remind him so disgustingly much of the Institute?), is there? For a moment, Robert dares to hope, at the barest edge of green hidden in the shadows...]
... D-D... D-Don...?
[His voice is dry, with a hollowness that betrays how much damage this captivity has done in three days.]
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No Robert, it's Leonardo.
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... Now they must have decided that they needed another subject.
The little scientist's shoulders shake as he reflexively wrings his hands, conscious of his bare arms and their painful-looking scars even now and hoping Leo can't make them out in the gloom.]
... th-they... they took you, too...?
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It's just lucky he's not a squirrel or something, but he is fairly weak and has a variety of marks on his body. As he's locked in his cage, he slumps to the ground, leaning against the wall. He'd had some fight in him before, but most of it is gone now.]
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This? This is hell.
He doesn't even notice Eggman at first until the organic sound of flesh hitting the floor catches his attention. He's been desperately trying to locate Don, to no real avail - that's the most torturous thing, keeping him apart from the lover he tried to protect - and anything is a better lead than what he has.
But... peering blearily through the gloom, he can tell right away it isn't Don. No shell, much taller and heavier, and is that a moustache...?]
... h-hello...? [His voice sounds weak and broken even to him.]
Reply
That pathetic, curled up creature, is that who was addressing him? That is, if the call was even directed to him. Either way, the doctor thinks he recognises the prisoner.]
Professor Hastings. [It's a statement, and not even a particularly surprised one.] So you are here too.
Reply
D-Doctor Robotnik... [Robert braces himself against the bars, enough to blink hazily over at the fellow scientist.] ... You... you m-must have been here... for a long time. [Because his drug-addled brain can't recall the doctor being anywhere during the past event...]
... th-they took Don and myself... a f-few days ago. [Not very long. But long enough to get a taste of the horror.]
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[Today he's brought to a different cell. Not that he's aware of this: from the fact that he isn't fighting, isn't struggling, it should be evident to anyone watching that he's barely conscious.]
[The droids throw him on the floor, lock the door, and walk out of the room, leaving Don just on the other side of the bars from his partner - also across from his brother and not far from a member of his science club, if they haven't been moved again. No sound escapes from him as he lies there, motionless and blind to his surroundings.]
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But the loudness suggests they're coming his way, and so he raises his head blearily, just enough to catch a flash of olive green against stark grays and whites...
... And then the loud bodily whump of organics hitting the floor.
It's Don. It's Don's clinging-to-consciousness form, but it's Don and Robert feels a surge of almost painful relief. He'd cry if he had any tears left.
But he doesn't. So instead, he brings himself over to the bars, slowly, as if Don's just another drug-induced hallucination.]
D-Don...?
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[He can't move, but he scrapes together just enough consciousness to growl in the direction of the voice.]
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S-Sorry... [It's a small, choked-out reflex, through a voice dry and raspy and ragged-edged, and then Robert withdraws into himself, looking even more like the little broken husk that this torture has reduced him to.]
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