applesaucedream | [open] Locked within a room of memory, locked up away with no light of day

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[open] Locked within a room of memory, locked up away with no light of day

Seth sits in his bed, back against the wall, facing the door.

This is not his current room. No trace of the sleek, clean style he favours. No decorations, no furniture at all except for the bed. The walls are brick and stone, the floor dirty cement, the air musty and heavy, with just a hint of smell from the sewers coming from the toilet in the corner. There's a constricting feeling of anxiety and dread, his attentions focused on the heavy, bolted door.

There used to be books and writing equipment at least, but they took that away before they returned him here. They even took away his nice blanket. It's funny the simple things you get attached to when there's nothing else.

Any moment now, he knows, one of the rebels will come through that door and discipline him. Tell him he'll do as they say, or else. He wonders what it is he did this time. There's been quite a few times over the more than three months they kept him here that he didn't want to do what they told him to.

He's had this dream before. He doesn't quite know it's a dream yet, but it'll soon come to him. And while it's not a nightmare that makes him wake with a start and a strangled scream, it's the sort that weighs heavily on him the entire following day, like a weight on his chest, making it hard to breathe, making any small room feel like a trap.

The door opens, and someone steps in, the door closing heavily behind them.

[This is a recurring dream for Seth, so he can have a different visitor on different nights. If you tag in, merely pick a date.]

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"Funny thing to dream about," he comments mildly -- too mildly. "The rebels having a dungeon, that is. Can't imagine where that'd come from."

Andrew watches Seth for his reaction. Is this a random dream, detached from reality? That's not actually his first assumption, but he wants some indication from Seth.

Seth snorts derisively. "If you can't imagine that, you don't know them well enough," he answers bitterly. "That wasn't a dream, that was a memory."

Andrew didn't even have to go looking for something subtle, here. On one hand, he probably shouldn't share too much, on the other, he's always eager to turn people away from the rebels.

Andrew clucks his tongue and finally steps inside, shutting the door on the remains of the hallway. "Maybe I don't," he admits cautiously. "They must have had a reason, though -- no, scratch that, they must have had an excuse."

"They did," Seth answers, not too keen on oversharing, taking another drink and watching Andrew. "I was useful to them. Be careful about being to useful to a group like that. Especially if you might change your mind about wanting to help."

"Why are you drinking?" asks Andrew. "It is a dream, remember."

Perturbed, he starts making a circuit of the flat, looking around for anything interesting. He doesn't like this. He's had his suspicions, but what Seth is claiming is more extreme than he'd expected to uncover. "You didn't try to go to ROMAC, did you?" he asks, probing for reasons that would have at least some reasonable basis.

"It makes me feel better," he answers truthfully. And it is, a little bit. Tricking his own brain into relaxing. Of course, any of it is sort of outweighed by the conversation, but nonetheless.

"I tried to leave the city," he answers bitterly. "Be careful about that, too."

"Believe me, I have been," replies Andrew, deliberately opting not to say 'we have been.' "They weren't quite who I was worried about, though. How do you mean, 'useful'? And how long did they have you down there? Can you tell me any names?"

Seth narrows his eyes at Andrew. Asking an awful lot of questions for someone not giving anything in return.

"What's your power?" he asks in return.

What? He told him his name, didn't he -- wasn't that giving him something? Andrew pauses and gives Seth a surprised look. "Who says I've got one?" he asks, voice suddenly half an octave higher. Can Seth see that he does somehow?

"I say," he answers, though really he's going off Andrew's voice and intuition more than anything else. "And none come through the rift wot aren't changed by it."

Well, he could admit that the rift apparently gave him the ability to become pregnant despite lacking the correct orifice...or he could go with the one that feels like an actual power. Andrew makes a face, reading between the lines and seeing that he's going to have to give a little information if he wants to receive more. "I split," he replies. "Into smaller me's. What about you?"

"If we were in the waking world, I could take that power off you, stick it in someone else. How's that for useful?" he answers, with raised eyebrows. Lucky for Andrew, that doesn't sound like a power that would be particularly useful to Seth, nor a high target for power-stealing in general.

"...Ah." That does explain it rather neatly. It's not a big leap to imagine either side wanting their best and brightest to get all the hardest hitting powers, and a smaller one yet to see them not taking 'no' for an answer. "How did you get out?" he asks, wondering just whose powers they had Seth take and where those powers ended up. The other man still hasn't answered the question of how long he was in that dismal little room.

Seth's gonna helpfully answer both of them. He takes another drink, then sets the bottle down, getting to his feet. "After them being my gracious hosts for about three months," he answers, approaching Andrew. "I discovered I could actually use some of those powers I was shuffling about myself." And then, to illustrate, he sticks his hand straight through Andrew's chest for a moment, then smiles. Hey, if he's telling Andrew this, he'll at least have a little fun with it. "Not so hard to get out from a room when you don't need a door."

It's a dream, but most people can't just make anything happen if it's not something they can do in the real world. Andrew stands his ground, giving Seth a wary look (he can't take the power in a dream, right?) only for his eyes to go wide and be drawn downward to where he's suddenly got a hand inside his chest.

"Oh, now that is not fair," he exclaims. Sobering, he adds, "For its owner, either. Who'd they want you to put all this into?"

"Dunno, wasn't in a position to ask," he answers with a shrug, stepping back and leaning against a table. Oh, he can recall several faces. Though occasionally he was blindfolded, so he wouldn't know anything. There's a few powers he'd really like to get his hands on (some of them if only to bereave the rebels in question of them), but it's hard to do so when you don't know who you stuck it into. And a lot of the time, he didn't even know what power he was moving about. After all, there wasn't much to gain from informing him.

Andrew nods slowly. He likes to think he'd've fared better, but Seth did escape once he could. It's worrying, though, to wonder who the rebels have been de-powering and who's running around with powers they didn't get from the rift. He wonders, too, how many of them are in on it and how many are fumbling around in the dark, assuming the rebels have everyone's best interests at heart.

"Did you get a look at any of the ones keeping you locked in there?" Maybe he can get at least one of those questions answered.

"Why do you want to know?" Seth counters. Given Andrew's carefree attitude about escaping from a rebel base, he's got a feeling he has misguided ideas about overthrowing the powers that be or something. Or perhaps he just wants to know who to look out for.

"I have friends in that base," replies Andrew, voice low. "And I'd appreciate knowing who they should watch out for. Unless you want the same thing to happen to others?"

Seth softens a little at that and nods understandingly. "All the higher-ups know about it. Hell, I gave some of them powers..." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Andrei Mikhailov, Hugo D'Angelo, Annika Howell, Menodara, Vathek, Blythe Summerset..." he lists. He didn't know all of them while he was imprisoned, but he's since done quite a bit of research.

Some of them are names Andrew's heard in passing, but many are unfamiliar. Many, that is, until Seth hits on a very familiar name. "Blythe?" he asks, surprised. "Little old librarian Blythe? That Blythe Summerset, the one who...meets all the new people and finds out their secrets. Ah."

Seth quirks his eyebrows when Andrew puts two and two together. "She's an impressive interrogator," he answers. "In case you're unaware, she can tell when you're lying." It's not a big secret, but that doesn't mean everybody knows it.

"I did know that," Andrew replies in a subdued tone. He lets out a sigh as he thinks of the implications -- what has he said to Blythe? What has she passed on? Apparently the rebels don't see him and James as a threat, but how long will that last?

And does he really want their gynecologist looking after his baby? He gives a little shudder and unconsciously wraps an arm around his belly in a protective gesture. "They'd notice a sudden mass exodus of all the rifties I know," he comments as much to himself as to Seth.

"They're probably not in immediate danger," he answers. "Unless they're actively involved with rebel business, I'd suggest just scaling down dependence and connection to them, try not to tell them a lot. I was a special case..."

"Easier said than done," muses Andrew. Half of them still live in the base. "How've you kept them from finding you again?"

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