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Kasuto Prison

Discussion in 'Solitary Confinement' started by NPC Soldier, Jun 7, 2017.

  1. NPC Soldier

    NPC Soldier Scribe
    Scribe NPC

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    If you find yourself here, you will notice that there is no rupees or post counts. The prison is a curious place that only rewards the user with their posts and rupees once they have successfully completed their assigned posts to make. Only once the user has completed said assigned solo posts will the site admin distribute the posts and rupees earned.

    If you wish to escape after that point, please make a ticket and discuss a viable reason to as of why the character could escape.

    If there is more than one user within the thread, you may of course interact with another.


    Cell One Occupant:
    Cell Two Occupant:​

    -----


    A small place with only enough space for two cells and an office, it is clear the place isn't abundantly used. Dank, wet and the smell of mildew assaults ones nostrils as the iron wrought bars are well maintained, a weird thing to notice considering the building is one of the oldest within Kasuto. What the building lacks in prestige it makes up for its record of holdings. It is rumoured that very few have managed to escape the prison without detection.

    Currently within the two cells there appears to be no one inside, minus the single guard that sits idly in his wooden chair. In his hands does he hold a book from the library, although it has been read so many times the title has worn off its cover. Keys for the cells are tucked on his belt, obvious but every once in a while the man reaches down to give them affectionate pat. Making sure they still exist.
     
    #1 NPC Soldier, Jun 7, 2017
    Last edited: Jun 8, 2017
  2. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
    Sheikah

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    Zen had been conscious the whole time while he was dragged to the prison. The unnecessary second blow to the back of the head wasn't enough to knock him out, but it was going to leave one hell of a bruise on both the back and front of his head. From that point, he decided to just stay silent and allow this to happen. He would cry police brutality for such a thing, but what exactly did it matter now? In the end, he was arrested, and he was probably going to rot here for quite a long time. But things were finite in that regard, and if there was even a chance of release, he would do anything in his power to get vengeance on both the guard that put him in here first, and then the Order of Rauru.

    Not now, unfortunately. Zen was brought to a solitary confinement cell and tossed inside, with the guard locking the door behind him. Said guard then left quietly, while the overseer of the solitary confinement cells simply sat there, jingling the keys on his belt as he pet them. Zen watched this display with a raised eyebrow and asked, "Are you so confident in being able to keep your keys that you'll dangle them and be affectionate with them?"

    The guard smirked and retorted, "Well, if you think you can steal them from me, take your best shot."

    "With pleasure." At that moment, Zen shot his hand forward to try and summon more vines. Five vines extended from his fingertips, but immediately shattered like glass once they materialized. Eyes wide, he reeled his hand back and shouted "What?!"

    Now it was the guard's turn to laugh. "A good attempt, but useless all the same."

    "Anti-magic, huh?" That was...actually really smart. A series of prison cells that nullified magic was objectively a good decision for containing criminals. Of course, it would irritate Zen to no end, knowing that he was essentially declawed while in this cell. He shrugged, now out of options, and moved to whatever bed was in this cell to sit on it.

    The guard continued to smirk at him. "What? Not gonna attempt anything else?"

    "Why bother? Can't do much of anything else for that. Might as well just pass the time doing...well, I dunno."

    "Smart man."

    Zen grumbled and bore his teeth at the guard. In this place, the man had full superiority over him, and he couldn't do much except have his every activity monitored with full scrutiny. There was nothing that could be done for escape, unless some opportunity presented itself. Was it worth waiting for one, though? It would probably never come. For now, it was probably worth healing his head injury with some sleep. If he was going to serve this sentence, there couldn't be much else to do except whatever else came to mind. He laid down, back to the guard, and went to sleep.

    (I don't know if I'm allowed to interact with the guard. If I have to edit, please tell me)
     
  3. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
    Sheikah

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    The next day had come. Nothing had really changed. Everything was still as it was, and he was still imprisoned. Oh well.

    One thing Zen remembered from doing work was that he was often stuck in a room all day sitting around, doing nothing, and waiting for something interesting to happen or for someone interesting to come in and receive torture treatment. As wrong as the whole thing was, the boredom was easily alleviated by some sort of physical activity. So that's exactly what he did. He took his shirt and shoes off, dropped down to the floor, and began doing sit-ups for two major reasons. For one, this was a good excuse to keep conditioning his body and keep his strength up while he was stuck in here. And two, physical activity was a good way to mindlessly pass the time and forget where one was.

    And on and on he continued to push his body, earning the curiosity of the jailer. He simply sat there and watched Zen, curious as to why he was doing so unnecessary. "Is there a point to exercising?"

    Zen stopped, hopped up to his feet, and tilted his head to the side. His shirtless body was dripping in sweat, and he was . "Well, it gives me something to do. Besides, who am I hurting?"

    The guard grunted. "My ears. Your loud breathing is disturbing me from trying to take a nap."

    Now it was Zen's turn to grunt, this time in annoyance. Stroking his chin, he quipped back with, "Well excuse me for trying to make the most out of my sentence."

    "Well, can't you do something a little quieter?"

    "Fine, twist my arm..." He dropped back down to the floor, this time on his back, and began doing push-ups. In this instance, his breathing was a little quieter, and at least it continued to give him something to do. The guard watched him for a bit, then continued to dawdle as he meant to do earlier. Zen briefly glanced at the man and silently judged his nonchalance, then went back to working out.

    This was going to be a long sentence. Might as well stay in shape while he was stuck in here.
     
  4. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    Another day had come. Whatever day this was, he didn't really know. Oh well.

    This time, Zen didn't feel like doing any physical activity. He sat there on this makeshift bed they had given him, leaning forward and staring off blankly toward a wall. The guard was staring at him and watching his every move, this time perplexed as to why he was so quiet. Even when the standard patting of the keys happened, Zen didn't acknowledge it. Hell, he didn't even hear it. He just stared off into space, disregarding his surroundings and appearing a little somber or sedated. It was hard to tell which it was.

    Then someone came around the corner and stood in front of his cell. Zen didn't recognize the man, but by the uniform on the man's body, he had to be someone important.

    The key-caressing guard saw this and called out to Zen. "Up and at 'em, inmate. You got a visitor."

    The man cleared his throat and began to speak. His manner of speech was very eloquent, almost befitting of an Order of Rauru member in his off-duty. "Hello there, Zen. My name is Warwick Ayers, and I'm a detective working in Kasuto. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

    He knew his name? Interesting. Zen looked up at the man, then leaned back against the cell wall. "I guess that's fine." The tone of his voice was very nonchalant.

    "Thank you. Now, tell me what provoked you to attack that woman earlier."

    Zen's expression didn't change. "To make an example out of her to the Order of Rauru."

    "Um...what kind of example?"

    "Something that will exclaim 'this is what will happen if you don't leave me alone.' That's all."

    Warwick showed trace amounts of alarm in his expression now. "You meant to kill her, then."

    "No."

    "Pardon?"

    Zen scowled now. "You heard me."

    "Yes, I did. But please clarify."

    "You'll want to talk to the Order about that."

    Warwick nodded, apparently accepting this outcome. "Speaking of the Order, they have been notified about your imprisonment."

    Now it was Zen's turn to raise some alarm. Eyes widened, he responded with “What?!”

    “We didn’t tell them in person, but we sent them a letter. They should be responding in kind soon.”

    Zen sat there, not exactly accepting of this outcome. “Okay then.” That was all he could say. What would these people do. Would they deliver him to Rauru for another kind of sentence? No. He wasn’t going to die in this manner. Not while the Order lived was he going to lay down and die just like this.

    Warwick continued with “Now then. May we continue? I have more questions.”

    The Sheikah simply sat there, staring blankly at this man once again. With a grumble, he added, “Fine."
     
  5. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    "What exactly provoked this attack against an Order member?"

    "Why does it matter to you?"

    More questions about the fact that he attacked a woman in broad daylight. Was anything interesting going to happen?

    "I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."

    "Well, I have a question for you: Don't the people in this town hate the Order?"

    "Well, I don't know about that."

    Lies. Zen knew just as much as anyone else that the people of Kasuto hated Order folks. A prior experience taught him at least that much. Those who weren't able to conceal their ties to the Order were often met with scrutiny. Those that could conceal them could go about their business as normal.

    "Let's test it, then. Hey you," he called toward the warden. The man looked up from his business of minding his own and looked at Zen, eyes narrowed. "Do you hate the Order of Rauru?"

    "Yeah, can't stand 'em."

    "How many others do you know who share your thoughts?"

    "Pretty much everyone I know thinks the way I do."

    "Okay, thanks." He turned back to the detective with a smirk on his face. "I rest my case, detective."

    The detective was more than mildly annoyed now. "And what did that prove?"

    "A couple things." His right hand shot up, showing only his thumb. "One, even if you listen to what an Order member like her has to say, no one else will." His index finger shot up. "Two, your people will deny any request the Order has involving my imprisonment." Now his middle finger shot up. "Three, I'd rather see the Order destroyed, and while they don't like that, I'm sure I'll find empathizers here." Now his ring finger shot up. "Four, I attacked her because one: I wanted to, and two : If she wasn't after me before, she was going to be later." Lastly, his pinky finger shot up. "And five, I'm infinitely safer here than I would be in their hands." His smirk widened. "Especially with that guy who can turn invisible running around."

    "And why are and have they been so concerned about you?"

    Zen's smirk became more irritated now. "You try abandoning an Inquisitor position in the Order and see if they leave you alone."

    Now the detective and the jail warden were alarmed. The two of them shot each other a look, then the guard went back to his business while the detective honed in on the Sheikah even more. "Wait, you quit the Order?"

    "More like defected. That's all you're getting out of me." He leaned back against the wall one more time, content with the answer he gave. Further prodding into that question would delve into too many secrets, and anyone else who learned of them would take them with them down under...or at least forget about them by the time he was done with them. And the detective was clearly irritated about this turn of phrase. Any opportunity to get at least some information about being a defected Order member was gone, and nothing he could say would get Zen to spill anything. Now was the questioning over? Maybe.
     
    #5 Zen, Jul 2, 2017
    Last edited: Jul 2, 2017
  6. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
    Sheikah

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    "Now you have me curious, Zen." So Warwick had decided to ignore the taboo against pursuing this conversation. Fine. "For what reason did you quit the Order of Rauru?"

    Zen snarled back with "Didn't I say I would tell you nothing?"

    "You did. But I can't just leave the issue alone, either. I'm not leaving until I get an answer."

    A guttural growl came from deep in Zen's throat. He was not comfortable talking about this subject, nor would he be. But if it meant getting this detective to shut up and leave, then he supposed talking was a necessity. "Creative differences."

    "What kind of creative differences?"

    The Sheikah tilted his head to the side. "That kind that can make or break both a work and a working relationship."

    Now back to being slightly annoyed, the detective shrugged. "You're not giving me specific answers."

    "You won't be getting those." The detective's now irked, angry face caused Zen to raise an eyebrow. "Hey now, you're the one who wanted to press the issue. You only have yourself to blame."

    Warwick sighed again. "You could at least be cooperative, like the Order has been in this trying time."

    "Only because their cooperation is but one of many means to justify an end."

    "Don't you mean satisfy?"

    "No." The word seemed to boom around the prison area. The weight of that single word resonated with the detective, causing him to stop. Zen stood up, now at eye level with Warwick, and stared him down. "The Order mistakes holy word for truth. I am a living reminder of their failures. So long as I draw breath, I will not just damn the Order." His fist clenched. "I will end them."

    Warwick was shaken by the sudden aggression, but recomposed himself when he knew that nothing would happen. "Well, I think that's enough for today. But I will be back to gleam more information out of you, if necessary. Your statements will be passed along to the Order."

    Zen growled once again at that final statement, but added to it, "Let them hear it, then, and let them come to me if necessary. They will see just how idle my threats truly are." Warwick said nothing more, simply responding with a curt nod toward Zen and an appreciative nod toward the jailer before walking away. Both the Sheikah and the jailer shot each other a look, neither one exactly appreciative of each other's company but appreciative of the silence that now hung over the area. After a short moment, Zen turned back to his prison bed and lay down in it. Had he said too much? Perhaps not enough? Well, at least his statements of provocation could act as bait for the Order. With the words laid out for the Order to potentially listen to, any future visitors he may get based on that would certainly be interesting.
     
  7. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
    Sheikah

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    Some time had passed since the conversation with detective Warwick. How long was it? Hours? Days? Time was irrelevant in the grand scheme of prison. Now Zen was shirtless and back to his training regimen. This time, he was shadowboxing. Keeping up one's strength was one thing, but keeping up dexterity and form was also important. In the absence of magic or blades, he would have to rely on muscle memory to fight with those later down the line. Thankfully, his primary means of fighting was with his fists, so practicing his punching speed, weight, and form was all too easy.

    The prison guard watched Zen for awhile until he decided to stop to catch his breath. "Say," he started. The Sheikah turned his head to look at him. "Why do you keep training like this? Do you think you'll be free sometime soon?"

    Zen shrugged. "Maybe? Maybe not? Somehow I doubt you'd want to keep me here forever."

    "And why's that?"

    "Pretty sure I'd bore you to death. I'm the only one here, after all."

    The guard raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm sure you have some interesting stories, being a former Order of Rauru member and whatnot."

    "Hm. You think so, huh?"

    "What, I'm incorrect?"

    "No, you're right, but can the same thing be said for you?" Zen tilted his head to the side. "I've never seen you eat or sleep, more or less move from that chair. Have you ever left this room?"

    "You don't think a guard in Kasuto has interesting stories to share?"

    Zen thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Well, I'm sure you do. This town is full of drunks, after all."

    The guard nodded. "So yeah, you share a story, I'll share a story. But first, tell me what you did while you were a member."

    That was a sore subject. This one needed to be a lie, but a pretty thinly veiled one. Simply saying that he was a torturer for the Order's Inquisition wasn't going to do him any favors. Not only that, the fact that he was a torturer for information wouldn't go over well with just about anyone. "I was...an information gatherer. My specialty lay in interrogation."

    "Ah, like the detective you previously spoke with."

    "Kind of. I also dealt with criminals. However, mine were...a bit different."

    The guard raised an eyebrow. "Got an example?"

    Zen sat down and put his shirt back on. "Once, the Order brought me a little girl. Couldn't have been younger than twelve. Said she had manifested signs of magic, burned down her house, and killed her father accidentally." This tale was a grim one. He needed a moment to collect his memories before continuing. "The truth of the matter was far more darker than that. After some...probing, for lack of a better word...she confessed to the crime. The magical burning was indeed an accident, but the dad was an unintended casualty from the main target." Zen's naturally irritated expression showed concern. A rare emotion for him to show these days. "She was trying to get her brother killed."

    The guard was stunned into silence, jaw agape and eyes showing a different form of concern than Zen's. All he could muster was a single word: "Why?"

    Zen's face never broke from his concerned countenance. "Spurned affections, as it turned out. Sinful lust for her brother, jealousy over the woman he loved, and other such feelings culminated in this. If she couldn't have him, no one would. The brother is still alive and the sister is imprisoned, but the whole thing is...tragic." His eyes closed and pressed his thumb and index finger to his nose's bridge. This memory, among many others, was not something he wanted to remember, but there was the story. He opened his eyes now and looked back at the guard. "I don't think any story can top that one. But I'm curious to hear about your experiences. What's some of the shit you've seen in your life?"
     
  8. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
    Sheikah

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    The guard leaned back in his chair, giving his keys a good tap once again to make sure they were there. Zen raised an eyebrow. "Why do you keep doing that?"

    The guard smiled wryly. "Just to make sure they're still there."

    "You never leave that chair, those keys are practically bound to you, and I'm stuck in this cell unable to use magic. What makes you think anyone's going to steal it?"


    The guard nodded. "You can never be too careful."

    Zen tilted his head to the side. "Right. Anyway, what kind of story are you going to tell?"

    The guard thought about it for a moment, then he leaned forward and answered with "Well, it may not be as interesting as your story, but it's a pretty grim tale nonetheless."

    The Sheikah raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

    "You see some interesting cases in a city full of drunks. Criminal undertakings, thievery, murders, and general drunken revelry are common here. One happening from five years ago, however, was the most disturbing thing I've ever seen." The guard reached into his pocket and produced a flask, its contents questionable. Taking a sip from it, he smiled again, this time dryly. "This is but one of many reasons why I drink."

    Now Zen was curious. He leaned forward on his bed, making eye contact with the guard now. "What happened?"

    "Disturbing stuff, lemme tell ya." The guard put away the flask before continuing. "Heard a report of screams in one area of the residential district, and went with my former partner to investigate. We came across..." Now the guard had a pained expression on his face, as though this memory was a painful remembrance, like Zen's story had been to him. "A dead woman's body with multiple lacerations and stab wounds, all of which meant to open the body and expanded out to fit a hand through. Blood everywhere around the scene." He looked like he was going to retch any moment now. "The muscles and bones, while pierced through, were still relatively intact. But...the victim's organs were completely removed. The heart, the brain, the intestines, everything." Now the guard visibly shuddered, trying to forget any visual memorization of the story.

    Even Zen's eyes showed a flicker of fear in this moment, and a chill shot straight down his spine. In all the years of torturing anyone the Order had sent him, he had never heard of anyone doing something like THAT. "Did..." The words were failing to leave his body, but he had to try and say something. "Did they catch whoever did it?"

    "That's the thing. The case remains unsolved to this day." The guard shook his head. "No clues, no evidence, no trail, nothing. It's almost as if whoever killed that woman simply didn't exist. Like a ghost or something, vanishing in broad daylight."

    "How is that even possible?"

    "I wish I knew." He pulled out the flask and pointed it at Zen before taking another sip. Afterward, he added, "But hey, it's probably not as disturbing as some of the things you've seen, am I right?"

    Zen shook his head. "No...that definitely tops most of the things I've seen. You win this round."

    "Aw, really? Well, okay then." Now the guard yawned. Apparently fatigue had hit him from all the storytelling the two had done over the last hour. Plus, it was late at night and he really wanted to take a nap. Jokingly, he remarked, "Hey, you gonna be here when I wake up?"

    Zen returned a coy smirk to the guard. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." And with that, the two went to sleep for the night, with the guard leaning back in his chair and the Sheikah turning his back to the guard and lying down in his prison bed. He wouldn't admit it to the guard's face, but he was an interesting fellow. If this were a completely different situation, perhaps they might have gotten along swimmingly...well, more swimmingly than they were in this moment. But why was he being so nice now? Boredom? Interest? Zen's disaffiliation with the Order? Whichever it was, it was still nice to talk to someone to kill time...even if the conversations might be mundane.
     
  9. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
    Sheikah

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    More time had passed. Zen was unsure of how much time he had actually spent in this prison cell, though he wasn't questioning it anymore.

    This time, he awoke to an irritable feeling in his scalp. It wasn't really an itch, but it felt like one. Whatever it was, he felt the urge to scratch at it, though he didn't feel the irritation subsiding. Was it the band he was using to tie up his hair? He removed it and let his long hair fall down to the bed. Immediately the irritation subsided. So it had to do with how it was tied? He stood up to see how long it had gotten, and amazingly enough, his hair was now long enough to reach down to his waist. Almost like the average female's hair, though slightly longer. "This is going to be annoying," he muttered. He liked the tied up look, but it was difficult to maintain with longer hair. Maybe it would do him some good to cut it all off. How would he do that, though?

    Then he looked at the guard and had a thought. "Hey you. You active?"

    The guard, who had been sitting there idly and motionless the whole time, briefly stirred from his listlessness. "I have a name, you know."

    Zen's face went from its usual sourness to inquisitiveness. "Oh, and what might that be?"

    With a smirk, the guard retorted with, "Dalston. Dalston Wycliffe."

    "Ah." With a nod, he added, "Zen."

    "Is that a name or a statement?"

    Zen's expression clearly showed irritation in how his name was treated. "The latter."

    "Sure, sure." Dalston's smirk widened to a full shit-eating-grin. "Anyway, what do you want?"

    "Got anything sharp on you?"


    Continuing the grin, the guard pulled out a knife and seemingly taunted him with it. "Feeling suicidal already? It's not like you're going to either cut me, cut through those bars, or pick the lock with this thing. Not while you're in there, anyway."

    "Not really, no." With a shrug, Zen twirled a strand of his hair and added, "I just want to cut this mop off my head."

    "Oh," the the guard chimed. "Well, that's a simple feat. Sit with your back against the bars and I'll do it. Just tell me where you want me to cut it."

    "Would it not be easier to leave the room and request someone with actual hair cutting skill come and do it?"

    "And risk you breaking out? Hell no. Besides, you don't think I know how to cut hair? I use this knife to cut my own hair all the time. It's easy."

    "Fine, do what you will," he grumbled. Zen stood up and sat against the bars, his right hand outstretching to grab and straighten out his hair. Then, he grabbed a fistful of it and held it while pointing out a separate area with his other hand. "Cut right about here."

    "Will do. Better hold on tight to that hair of yours."

    "Why?"

    "Just do it. It'll be over soon."


    "Wha--" And with that, Zen felt the knife cutting against his hair follicles, similar to a saw blade. He wanted to do something in retaliation to this irritable feeling searing through his scalp. Punch Dalston, stab Dalston, wrench his body away, SOMETHING to end this. But he had requested this, so he just had to bear through it.

    And just like that, it was done. Zen was now holding a clump of severed hair, and not only was the irritation gone, but his head felt ten times lighter than it did before. "Phew...it's over." He heaved a sigh of relief and held up the clump of hair that the guard had cut off. "Now what do I do with this this?"

    "You could always dispose of it. After all, your latrine pit is right there." He mockingly pointed to the literal shithole in the opposite corner of the cell with his knife before sheathing it.

    "I have a better idea." He took the clump of hair and began fashioning it into a braid, similar to the one he wore on his head before cutting it off just now. Thankfully, he still had the bands he used to tie up his hair all this time, all of which still relatively intact. After some finessing, he got it looking pretty similarly to how it was. "Perfect."

    Dalston raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do with that?"

    "Something interesting in the future, I'm sure."

    He sat back down in his chair, once again patting his keys to see if they were still there. "Hmph. Weirdo," he remarked.

    Zen sat back down on his bed and scratched his head. The shorter hair would take some getting used to, but damn if it didn't feel comfortable right now. Fun stuff.
     
  10. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    Now even more time had passed. What was even the flow of time in this place? Something fluid? Something cruel? Had to be something, otherwise it wouldn't have felt like an eternity in this place.

    Zen had just wrapped up his body training and was about to put his shirt back on when the jingling of keys made him stop. This sounded different from the keys Dalston was carrying. He turned toward the guard with a look on his face that asked "hey, was that you?" He watched the guard shake his head, but he pointed toward his right. Zen turned further to his left to see another person standing there. He recognized him immediately. "Oh hey, you're the guy who brought me here." With unceasing eye contact he added, "What do you want?"

    "You have a visitor." He motioned toward the empty part of the corridor that Zen couldn't see. "Bring her in."

    "Her?"

    From around the corner walked a woman. She had red eyes and long, black hair down to the small of her back. She wore a dark grey dress, which extended down to her knees, along with traveling boots, an overcoat, and fingerless gloves. In her hand was a long pipe, its contents apparently already burning. There was no doubt about it. This was Zen's sister, Linley Noctum.

    She stood at a standstill in front of his cell as the officer who arrested him beckoned Dalston to follow him away. Give the two a bit of private time together. The moment they left, her stoic composure dropped. "Ezekiel..."

    Immediately he snapped back with "I do not answer to that name, Tama."

    "Tama is not my name either, Ezekiel, just as your name isn't Zen. You know this."

    "No, but it might as well be. Our identities were null and void the moment we entered the Inquisition."

    "That's a lie, Ezekiel."

    He stood up and took a threatening step toward her. She stumbled backwards and fell prone to the ground. She knew he couldn't and wouldn't do anything to harm her, but the display was frightening. "If you truly know me, then you know one truth: I do not lie."

    She stood up and dusted off her backside. "Look, we can argue semantics over lies and truth all day. But please, brother, that is not why I'm here. I simply want to ask questions and get to the bottom of this."

    He exhaled angrily. "Just like all the others, huh? Fine. Do what you want." He sat back down in his bed, angry eyes trained on his sister. He was kind of being an ass to his own sister, but she warranted it, trusting the company of liars and crooks. Their words were as empty as their souls, and yet all she had to do was believe in them like dogma. A sad reality and a sad display, but she was always the one who wanted something to help guide her and make the right decisions in life. In Zen's opinion, she just chose poorly.
     
  11. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    "So why did you attack an Order member in broad daylight?" This question needed answering, and apparently the only ones who hadn't received answers were other Order members.

    Zen didn't break his angry glare. "Premeditated self-defense."

    "And what does that mean?"

    "She had the nerve to approach me and ask questions," he responded. More like the audacity to approach him. "She knew who I was and that I was an Order member. I couldn't take any chances."

    "Ezekiel, you know--"

    He bore his teeth at his sister. "That is not my name."

    "It's my name for you, so please just bear with it. Anyway," she continued. "You know that not all the Order members are after you, right?"

    "No, but the ones I've encountered since leaving have all been Inquisition members trying to kill me."

    "That can't be true." Then she remembered his earlier statement about not lying. "...can it?"

    He stood up and stared her down. "You won't believe me, huh? You and so many others. You want to do as much good as you can in the world, but you fail to find the faults in everything around you, blind to the truth as always."

    Now her temper was ready to flare. "I'm trying to help you by first understanding what happened! I didn't come here to argue good and evil! You realize that even after everything you've done, I still want to believe there's some good left in you and listen to you!? Do you even realize I'm probably the only one who will?! Please just have a little more faith in me!" Zen was about to get another word in, but stopped dead upon seeing tears stream down Linley's face. Instead of throwing a fit, she had chosen to cry. That was unexpected. "Why, Ezekiel?" That was her next question? "Why would you kill our father with that fell magic of yours?"

    He stood there for a moment, unsure of how to truly respond to this. But in order to get this situation cleared up, he needed to tell the truth. If Linley was truly on his side, then he would need to test her faith with this. With as neutral a face, possibly as apologetic, as he could muster, he looked his sister dead in the face and responded with, "I didn't."

    She stopped sobbing, tears still streaming down her face, and looked at him wide-eyed. "What?"

    "I mean it," he claimed. With unceasing eye contact, he added, "Adrian Noctum is alive."
     
    #11 Zen, Jul 11, 2017
    Last edited: Jul 12, 2017
  12. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    "What do you mean our father is alive?!" The tears continued to stream down Linley's face, as though this was the only way she could release all her emotions.

    "I'm not going to repeat myself again: Adrian Noctum is alive."

    "But how?"

    "Well, I didn't pump enough of my magic into him to kill him." That thought was questionable at best. Zen didn't even know whether or not his magic could kill anyone. It was something he never tried. The farthest he ever got was a comatose, brain-addled state, and only his father experienced that condition. "When I left him, he was still breathing and he could register touch and movement, but he wasn't expressing anything, or even interacting. Based on that and what you've said, this can mean one of two things." He cleared his throat. "Either the Order killed him themselves, or they lied to you about him being dead."

    Linley couldn't believe what she was hearing. But there was one thing she knew for sure about all this. "Ezekiel, I watched our father's body be lowered into a grave. A headstone with his name on it sits in the graveyard."

    So they held a funeral for the man. Was it legitimate or falsified? Probably the latter, considering the circumstances. This begged the question: "Did you actually see the body?"

    "No," she claimed. She wiped the tears off her face now, but she looked like she might cry again any minute. "His body was wrapped from head to toe in cloth. They cited mangling of the body and other disfigurements as justification for being unable to view the body."

    "And who presided over this funeral?"

    "The leader of the Inquisition."

    That was all Zen needed to hear. "Then they lied. No injuries were suffered to Adrian Noctum's body in that attack." Before Linley could get another word in, he interjected with "Yes, I admit to attacking him. But he's not dead."

    "Is there a reason why you attacked him."

    "Yes." The silence that followed demanded an explanation that never arrived.

    "...are you going to tell me why?"

    "I will not."

    "And why is that?"

    "I have my reasons, Tama."

    "You are so thick-headed, you know," she admonished. "And would it kill you to refer to me as your sister?"

    "You can't kill what died many years ago."

    She was no longer crying at this point. She just stared blankly at him. "Beg pardon?"
     
  13. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    "You heard what I said."

    "Yes, I did, but I don't understand the meaning behind the words."

    Zen sighed. This one was going to be tricky to explain, but if he didn't try, then what was going to be the point of it? "The day I left the Order was the day 'Ezekiel Noctum' ceased to exist."

    Now Linley really didn't understand. "But you're standing right in front of me, clear as day."

    "Well, to be more accurate, the identity ceased to exist. Memories of a man named Ezekiel and how he slowly turned toward this darker path are there, but virtually no trace of the identity remains in the mind."


    "But how would you disassociate yourself with your own identity? Do you just refer to yourself as 'Zen' all the time?"

    He nodded. "Naturally."

    "Then why go this far?"

    Now was a time for more truth. "Do you remember what I did in the Order, Linley?"

    "Of course," she claimed, tapping her finger to her temple. "You were an information gatherer, correct?"

    "Yes...but also no." He straightened his back before continuing. "I was an interrogator. I...tortured people, Linley." He waited a moment for that statement to sink in, and when he saw the horrified look on her face, he continued. "Adrian Noctum put me up to this. Called it the best use for my fear-inducing magic. With some pulled strings, I soon found myself pumping my magic into people the Inquisition deemed dangerous or 'full of information,' as it were." Now there was a look of guilt on his face, also a rarity. "I drove people insane in order to get anything out of them, and if they hadn't fully committed to the insanity, I was told to make them that way. And you can imagine such a thing killing me inside. But it was my job, and I kept doing it...until nearly nothing of Ezekiel Noctum's identity." He looked up now, expression back to normal. "So now you can imagine my reaction and attack against Adrian when I learned my reasoning for staying like this."

    Linley simply stood there, her hands cupped around her mouth to hide how far her jaw was dropping. To hear something like this was...not normal. Why would the Order of Rauru put anyone up to this? Why did the Order of Rauru even have this position? She was going to ask more questions, but a noise made her turn her head. The guards from before were returning to tell her that her visiting hours were up. "I...have to go now, Ezekiel."

    He nodded. "I understand. But do me one more favor?"

    "What is it?"

    He sighed one more time. "Keep remembering my name...for one day I may forget."

    Now Linley's expression changed to express sadness. To see her older brother in the state he was currently in was bearable enough. To know that he may never think of her or their mother as family again was more than she could bear. She acknowledged his statement with a nod. "I love you, brother." And with that, she walked out of view.
     
  14. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    For a few moments, Zen sat there in silence, thinking and ruminating on the entire exchange that had taken place. Eventually, Dalston came back to his position and sat down in the chair, patting the keys one more time to ensure they were there. "So, I'm sure you enjoyed that little reprieve, eh?"

    Zen didn't move, but his eyes shifted in the socket to glance over at his jailer. "In a way I did."

    He nodded. "Who was that, by the way?"

    "They didn't tell you?" At no indication of an answer, he continued with, "That was my sister. She's an Order member."

    "You have a sister? That's...interesting."

    Zen raised an eyebrow now. "What is?"

    With a smile, Dalston quipped back with "A man as grouchy as you has a sister? That's an interesting piece of information." There was an odd look in his eyes as he said this, bordering somewhere on inquisition and lechery. The nervous smile he was giving and the way he wasn't able to look Zen in the eye served as an indication that he wanted something more to do with Linley...something awful.

    He finally turned his head toward the jailer, an angry face manifesting on his normally dull features. "Leave my sister alone, or so help me I will rip through these bars and strangle you myself."

    Those words with such an angry tone were surprising to hear come out of his mouth, but Dalston remained unfazed. "Heh, you can try, but you'll fail every time. Besides, you're never getting out of here, anyway."

    Zen stood upright now, glaring Dalston down with a mix of confusion, anger, and shock. "What?!"
     
  15. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    "What do you mean I'm not getting out of here?!" This sentence had punctuated the silence from the previous revelation, and not in a positive manner. He was clearly mad and very clearly showing emotion. A rarity, to be perfectly honest, but compared to how many times he had actually expressed emotion today, it wasn't that big an anomaly.

    Dalston returned a raised eyebrow at him and responded as he normally would. "I mean it. You're not getting out."

    "But why?!"

    "Well, where should I start," he began. "You assaulted a woman, you beat up two drunkards, you stole a sword and used it against another bystander, you unleashed magic offensively, and worst of all, you attacked the guards sent to break up the fight." Dalston's expression was neither amused nor angered. He was simply stating facts. "By all these counts, that's enough to keep you here until you're long dead. Even if the crimes in question do pertain to the Order, the fact that they were performed on Kasutan soil ensures you'll rot here for the rest of your life."

    "You..." Zen stood there in disbelief, then stopped. While he couldn't deny that he did perform all these acts, the fact that he was in here for life was a bit hard to swallow. He sat back down on his bed and lessened his glare toward Dalston. His voice changed back to its normal drab tone, too. "I...suppose that makes sense. It's not any less infuriating, though."

    Dalston shrugged. "Justice is neither fickly nor vengeful. It does what it can for us, even at the expense of others."

    There was a silence. After that, Zen quipped back with, "What does that even mean?" In the attempt to process all of that, it went somewhat over his head.

    "It's a saying we sometimes use. Look, the system isn't perfect, but it's certainly something that's helped us deal with a lot of bad people. Contrarily speaking, you're one of the more interesting prisoners I've interacted with."

    "Well if you like me so much, can't you bargain for my release?"

    Dalton smiled then offered a shrug. "I'm afraid that's out of my hands."

    Zen smirked. "Heh, well, I had to try."

    "I know." Their kinship was an odd one. Prisoner and warden...such an amicable relationship might not be able to exist in certain conditions, but the fact they were able to make it work was weird. It was neither fun nor grueling. It was just...interesting.
     
  16. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    Zen had been quiet in the amount of time since he learned the news that he wasn't getting out of this prison. He just sat there and stared blankly into space. What did the physical activity matter to him now? If he wasn't going to get out of here and just sit all alone with the company of a guard watching over him, then there wasn't really a point to doing anything. Just stay here in this dingy, musty, smelly cell and live out the rest of his days until the day he died. How was he going to get his revenge now?

    Dalston noticed Zen's strange silence and raised an eyebrow. "You okay? You've been awfully quiet since our last chat, y'know?"

    Zen didn't even look up at him. "Tell me," he started. "How long have I been in here?"

    Dalston shrugged. "Couple days, give or take. Definitely less than a week. A little less, anyway"

    "Feels like I've been here a month."

    "Heh heh...yeah, prison will do that to your sense of time." At the sound of Zen quietly grumbling since that statement, Dalston had to speak to it. "Seriously, you haven't been this quiet since since our last conversation, and that was a day ago. What's eating you?"

    "Is there even a point anymore? Am I to just sit here for all eternity rotting away doing nothing?"

    "Well, you won't be here for all eternity," Dalston said. Then he donned a cheeky smile. "Gotta bury the dead body somewhere."

    Zen didn't even react. "Amusing. But seriously, they won't let me out for good behavior?"

    "I'm afraid not."

    He sighed. "Oh well, then. Guess I'll just...do whatever." He hadn't moved in that entire interaction, and now he had turned on his back to lie and stare at the ceiling. This was it, then. This would be how Ezekiel Noctum died: Withering away in a cell all because of some damned woman. What would they write on his tombstone? "Here Lies Ezekiel Noctum: Bastard Until The End?" What a headline that would be. Oh, how the Inquisition would rejoice at his eternal imprisonment leading to his timely and possibly well-deserved death. Bastards...every last one of them.

    (That's all 15 of my required posts, I believe)
     
  17. Zen

    Zen What Are You Afraid Of?
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    (Okay, one more and then I'm escaping)

    Zen sat in this cell, leaning forward and thinking about things. Mostly things that he had been thinking about beforehand. If he wasn't going to get out of this goddess-forsaken prison, how exactly would he get his vengeance against the Order? Certainly no one else would be able to get his vengeance for him, because no one really understood why he abandoned the order in the first place. Well, someone finally did. But would they bail him out of here to allow him this chance? Probably not.

    Then a sound occurred from somewhere else in the room. Something he hadn't exactly heard in a long time. It sounded like a door being opened. His ears perked up and he turned his head toward the sound. Dalston had also heard the sound and turned toward the sound, a look of confusion rivaling the emotionless face Zen was wearing.

    Down the hall walked three figures. He couldn't see them, but he heard three sets of footsteps, so it had to be three people. Two masculine, one feminine, based on the shoes they were wearing. Then a figure walked into his prison viewpoint: Warwick Ayers, the man who had previously interrogated him. He smiled and waved his hand at Zen. "You're free to go, Zen."

    The Sheikah raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what? Just like that?"

    The interrogator stood still for a moment, then released a quick chuckle. "Oh right, I forgot that's actually a non-damning statement of freedom. What I meant to say is: You're free to leave here...and be transferred to Rauru's Prison Cells." Then he motioned to his right. "Come on in."

    Two more figures now walked into view. One was Linley Noctum, Zen's sister. She was accompanied by someone else he recognized: Galahad Whaley, another Inquisitor in the Order's services who often used the name "Molan." He kept his face and body veiled up at all times, but Zen learned to recognize the man by his smell. He always had a foul smell about him, like he was burnt very badly and the wounds never stopped burning. It was almost like a perpetual smoky, musty smell permeated from his being, like he was constantly on fire and no one knew how to put him out.

    "So," Zen started. "I'm to be further condemned to a slow and miserable death by a foul-smelling bastard and my own sister?"

    "We weren't given much of a choice, Ezekiel. The Order wanted you alive, so we were sent here to collect." Linley didn't appear to approve of the situation by any means, really only being here by force of order.

    "I see." Then his head turned toward Galahad. "And what about you? You got a personal stake in any of this?"

    "Not really," a raspy voice emanated. This was Galahad's natural speaking voice, almost as though his vocal chords had been scarred along with his face. Did they smell as bad, too? "They wanted to send muscle with her. I just happened to fit the bill."

    "Fine then." Zen shrugged both arms toward them. "What are you gonna do, then? Incapacitate me and drag me back?"

    "Far from it," Linley interjected. She pulled out two sets of shackles, their sizes indicating they were meant for both his arms and his legs. Then she motioned for Galahad and Dalston's cooperation. "Restrain him." The two entered the cell and forced Zen into an upright standing position, arms out in front of his body and legs standing shoulder-width apart. He didn't attempt to resist this time, even as he watched his sister shackle both his arms together and his legs together. By the time she was done, his arms were bound in chains and his legs were bound in chains long enough to allow him to walk. "Now then, we're leaving."

    Zen knew he couldn't fight back or protest anything that was happening to him, so he simply allowed it to happen. Before he fully left the cell, he turned back toward Dalston. "Not gonna say anything?"

    "Well, I guess I could," Dalston claimed. With a shrug, he cleared his throat like he was going to start a speech, moving back toward his chair, then began with, "Well, you were certainly an...interesting person, Zen. You've seen your fair share of shit, as have I. I'd like to think we'd have gotten along swimmingly had we not met like this." The man was smirking now. "I'd shake your hand and say 'it was nice meeting you,' but that would seem inappropriate. Just...good luck over there. You'll need it."

    Now it was Zen's turn to smirk. "Well, I guess that's fine, then. See you."

    And with that, he followed Linley out of the prison, with Galahad tailing closely behind him. This whole thing had been an ordeal of sorts, but at least he'd be able to see some actual daylight and nighttime out in the world...if only to be locked in another pit sometime again soon. Oh well. Those were the brakes.

    (And I'm out. 16 posts and rupees, please. If anyone responsible for reading my work contests any of this, please let me know.)
     
  18. NPC Soldier

    NPC Soldier Scribe
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    Zen Noctum - Served 16 posts and has been rewarded with 16 rupees, and 16 posts on Sept 14, 2017.
     

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