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WHO Two losers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aeturnus / cymaticsociety)
WHAT Got caught, like losers. Break out, like winners.
WHEN ???
WHERE ?????
WHY do we need a reason for terrible, really
[ Cain is pretty sick of this already. Recently it seems like people have been getting it into their heads that humanity's advanced grasp on science means they should meddle with things beyond their control. Even if they can come to understand it, it doesn't mean they can do anything about it. His whole life is testament to that fact and he's learned the lesson well.
Better yet, their need for control just makes it more obvious when they lose it. He's been watching for opportunities this whole time and strikes as soon as the chance presents, not willing to risk waiting for any number of reasons. Soon he's out in the bare hallways and the alarms haven't sounded just yet but he knows it's only a matter of time until that changes. It's always about time. Cain's got plenty, but the world doesn't seem to notice that sometimes.
Loud, blaring sound pulls him up short as he passes by another cell. This one seemed fancier, perhaps better enforced and the sound vibrating the walls only emphasizes the rattling panel alongside the door with controls and what looks like... a playlist being set? What the hell? It takes a moment for Cain to hear it over the cacophonous din that the sound is actually music apparently being converted to a torture device. When he peers inside the window at the door, he sees... something. A person. Chained up and left to deal with this mind-bending, horrible pain of the sort that's known to strip people down to their barest parts. He has no idea how long the guy's been in there, but by all appearances the person appears to be dangerous. The person appears to be feared. ]
Eh... might as well. Why not. [ He slaps a hand on the panel to roll the music down without cutting it entirely. Even he might reel at the total silence now that the music's seeped into his bones just from standing outside. Using the keys he grabbed off one of his captors, he pulls the door open and looks at the person—a man, it turns out—and speaks. ]
Hey, you and I both want to get out of Dodge, right? Truce on whatever freaky deal you've got going on here 'til we get there?
aeturnus / cymaticsociety)WHAT Got caught, like losers. Break out, like winners.
WHEN ???
WHERE ?????
WHY do we need a reason for terrible, really
[ Cain is pretty sick of this already. Recently it seems like people have been getting it into their heads that humanity's advanced grasp on science means they should meddle with things beyond their control. Even if they can come to understand it, it doesn't mean they can do anything about it. His whole life is testament to that fact and he's learned the lesson well.
Better yet, their need for control just makes it more obvious when they lose it. He's been watching for opportunities this whole time and strikes as soon as the chance presents, not willing to risk waiting for any number of reasons. Soon he's out in the bare hallways and the alarms haven't sounded just yet but he knows it's only a matter of time until that changes. It's always about time. Cain's got plenty, but the world doesn't seem to notice that sometimes.
Loud, blaring sound pulls him up short as he passes by another cell. This one seemed fancier, perhaps better enforced and the sound vibrating the walls only emphasizes the rattling panel alongside the door with controls and what looks like... a playlist being set? What the hell? It takes a moment for Cain to hear it over the cacophonous din that the sound is actually music apparently being converted to a torture device. When he peers inside the window at the door, he sees... something. A person. Chained up and left to deal with this mind-bending, horrible pain of the sort that's known to strip people down to their barest parts. He has no idea how long the guy's been in there, but by all appearances the person appears to be dangerous. The person appears to be feared. ]
Eh... might as well. Why not. [ He slaps a hand on the panel to roll the music down without cutting it entirely. Even he might reel at the total silence now that the music's seeped into his bones just from standing outside. Using the keys he grabbed off one of his captors, he pulls the door open and looks at the person—a man, it turns out—and speaks. ]
Hey, you and I both want to get out of Dodge, right? Truce on whatever freaky deal you've got going on here 'til we get there?