Week 4.

[legionofmods]

[Another trial. Another execution. This is beginning to get fairly routine at this point - something has to happen soon, don’t you think?

Luckily for you all, that might just be the case. The fourth floor is open, and free to explore. But there’s something dark lurking up here, and it’ll become clear to you that there’s more to this whole thing than what’s been described to you.

You’re getting close to your final days here. Make the most of it.]

(important ooc notes: 1. There is an official activity check this week! If you plan on hanging with us through the end, feel free to hit that up!

2. I am looking for a volunteer to do a one-on-one plot-heavy thread on Tuesday afternoon around motive time! If you’re interested, please get in touch with me.)

Comments

[startercar]

[Surprising probably no one, Dennis has returned to the torture chamber. He hasn't really done anything in here yet, but he's given longing dead-eyed looks at things and spent no insignificant amount of time visualizing their use on various people here. The only change from today than the days before is that someone else is already in here when Dennis shows up to be ~unsettling~.

Dennis hasn't been one to turn down hard liquor since he was like, twelve, and given that he's spent his adult life "bartending" (i.e. fucking off and doing whatever at a bar while ignoring customers), he's accustomed to all the different ways people imbibe. Including chugging. He dodges the pear of anguish and picks his way to through some of the bottles, selecting scotch.]

Why are you animals always throwing things? Your aim's shit, by the way.

[madmadam]

[The wheel grinds to a halt.]

What's that you say? You want me to try harder?

[She reaches for this lovely looking thing and chucks it.]

[startercar]

What! What the hell! [Dennis is so tired of people throwing things at him! Jesus!]

You're going to break all the special shit in here doing that!

[madmadam]

[She's rooting around for something else to toss, but gives up and goes back to spinning the wheel.]

Ugh! I suppose you've got a point. If I'm going to use any of these on you, I may as well use them for their intended purpose!

[startercar]

Oh, please spare us. No one wants to see you using those.

[madmadam]

In that case, I'll just have to lock you up in the iron maiden! Plenty dark in there!

[startercar]

What makes you think you could push me in there? [Dennis, bereft of a shot glass for his scotch, takes a swig.] I just came in here to drink and contemplate. You know what that is, right?

[madmadam]

What makes you think I couldn't?

[This is the lady who can turn into a giant pink crocodile after all.]

And what have you got to contemplate about, anyway?

[startercar]

Because you're a fat old bitch. [Dennis has learned nothing.] And I'm contemplating what someone could use these devices for. They're obviously not to kill, because if someone's going to try and torture someone to death in this place they'd get caught, so they're bound to have another purpose...

[madmadam]

[The wheel stops abruptly again, in the exact right position for Mim to be facing Dennis, giving him the biggest, most sickeningly sweet smile.]

Oh heavens no, these devices aren't meant to kill someone. They're meant to break some poor bastard, physically and mentally, by inflicting the most unimaginable pain for unbearable amounts of time. They're left in such constant agony for so long that they'll inevitably start to beg for mercy, to plead with their torturer to let them go, that they'll do anything! Even admit to a crime they did not commit!

But the turnkey holds all the power, you know. And if they don't get the reaction they want, all they have to do is flip a switch, pull a lever, adjust a screw, and wait until the screaming begins again. It takes an iron will to resist such immeasurable torment, and only the strongest nerves will last until finally, sweet death takes them. More often than not, though, they'll crack before they reach that point.

[She doesn't stop smiling.]

[startercar]

[This is one hundred percent the type of over-the-top speech Dennis would give, were their positions reversed, but he doesn't recognize that, because this chick old. And ugly.

Either way, sliding into a similar mode comes to him completely naturally.]

You sound like you have some experience in the matter. [He takes a glug.] I've always imagined using some of these, you know. But it's almost more powerful not to, to just have the complete power to grant mercy or give pain and leave them trembling in uncertainty.

[madmadam]

[Flops onto her side, resting her chin in her hand.]

Oh my, the stories I could tell! You should have seen the dungeons during the inquisition! So much blood! Too bad for them they couldn't keep me there. I had better things to do.

[startercar]

Do they have to get bloody? That just seems...besides the point. [Dennis wants a kinky sex dungeon. Blood is at least only number three on his list of bodily fluids he wants involved.] What kind of better things were you getting up to?

[So far, he isn't sure whether to believe people when they talk about their villainy. He doesn't have any villainy on that scale. He's going to have to draw some inspiration and make it up.

He finishes the scotch (it was half-empty, but only half) and chucks it absentmindedly against the wall, where it shatters.]