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<Rosin> ::On Sylvie's arrival in the second cell-- not so different from the first, except that the mattress on the iron bed isn't as fresh, the stone walls are drier and rougher, and the floor is hard-packed dirt instead of stone-- Blue and his small entourage of thugs throw her on the bed and leave, locking the door. One man remains on guard, occasionally peering in through the metal grille at her.:: * Sylvie shudders and scrubs at her bare arms with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She takes up the blanket from the bed, and finding it to be too strong to tear easily, settles for folding it in half and tucking it, sarong style, around her exposed chest. That accomplished, she sits down on the floor furthest away from the door, disdaining the minimal comforts and not so comforting memories of the bed. <Rosin> ::That first... day? evening? passes relatively quietly. At one point, Sylvie hears a noise through the wall at her back-- a door opening and closing, a man's voice. A few minutes later, there is a sound that could be human or animal, followed by a violent creaking of bedsprings, and the unmistakable noises of lovemaking.:: * Sylvie flinches away from the sounds at first, but then shrugs and leans against the wall, hoping to hear some after-activity talk. <Rosin> ::After about 15 minutes, the activity stops. The door opens and closes again, and the animal? woman? can be heard, moaning softly. All is relatively quiet for another five or ten minutes, and then the door opens again, more stealthily this time. A man's voice, again, different this time:: Eh, sweet thing, left ye in a state again, didn't he? Why don'tcha help out ol'-- <Rosin> ::the man breaks off with an exclamation of surprise, and soon enough, the sounds start up again:: * Sylvie shudders again, spinning her ring around and around on her finger. <Rosin> ::After another interlude of bed abuse, things seem to quiet down in the next room. The woman-- it definitely sounds female, now-- continues to moan softly to herself when the man goes, but eventually quiets down, perhaps sleeping.:: * Sylvie shakes her head and goes to attend to her own urges, moving the chamber pot to a relatively unobservable spot from the door and being not quite successful in muffling a groan of pain as she relieves herself. <Rosin> ::after a few hours, the woman wakes again. She's whimpering again-- this time, it sounds like, in distress-- and Sylvie hears her losing the contents of her stomach noisily. The woman settles down again, somewhere along the wall, this time, as the whimpers come from a different source than the bed-noises did.:: * Sylvie frowns and follows the source of noise. Tentatively, she kneels down near the sounds, wincing at the pain in her lower back. "Hello?" She says very, very softly. <Rosin> ::the whimpers break off with a faint gasp, and there is silence:: <Sylvie> ::bites her lip:: I'm sorry. ::she leans against the wall, looking up the ceiling:: <Sylvie> I didn't mean to frighten you. <Rosin> ::there's a faint rustling on the other side of the wall, and then silence. Then, very, very quietly, in a voice broken and thick with tears:: Hello? Are you talking to me? <Sylvie> ::taps the wall with her fingernail:: Are you all right? Are you a prisoner, too? ::she shifts her eyes to the door, worried:: I thought... thought I was alone. <Rosin> ::quiet, gasping sob:: I wish I were alone... Tymora, I wish I were *dead*... <Sylvie> ::softly:: I understand. I won't... bother you. I'm just frightened. <Rosin> ::sniffles:: I... no, please talk to me, please... I... I think I'm going mad... I... ::pauses to swallow:: I should be alright, until... ::breaks off. There's a quiet keening, again, sounding very much like a wounded animal:: <Sylvie> ::shudders:: What... who are you? I don't understand any of this. My name is Sylvie. <Rosin> ::the keening dies off at a male rumble-- perhaps the woman's own guard, telling her to knock it off:: R-Rosin. I was Rosin, before. Now I'm just... ::sobs:: <Sylvie> ::angrily, her voice harsh, but soft:: No. You are Rosin. You are. Whatever they're doing to you, they can't take that. Not unless you let them. ::she breathes hard, her hands clenched in helpless fists:: <Rosin> ::pauses:: Thank you... thank you. I... I don't know if I can, though. I... I don't know what's happening to me. I was never like this, but ever since they brought me here... <Sylvie> ::trying to press closer, her body melded to the wall:: Tell me what's happened. Do you know where we are? <Rosin> ::keeping her voice soft:: I know... it's not Marsember. I've heard the men talking, sometimes. And I know there are other girls here, others they... liked. ::choking sob:: <Rosin> We're all... ::with bitterness:: We're no more than toys. Some they brought here to punish, I think, others just because they... liked them. ::retching noise:: <Sylvie> ::her voice bitter:: I don't think *like* is exactly the word. <Rosin> And Him... ::Sylvie can practically hear the capital:: ...this is his place. He brings his men here sometimes to... to reward them. I... ::sobs again:: Gods, Dawn is probably dead already... <Sylvie> ::softly:: He wasn't yesterday. You know him? <Rosin> ::gasps:: You've seen him? He's still alive? I... not personally, but... I overheard some men talking. They mean to kill him, Tower wants his spot. But then... they caught me. <Sylvie> ::snorts:: Tower, my ass. Sable's son doesn't deserve such a lofty name. More like Toad. <Rosin> ::soft whimper:: He's... he did something to me... or he has some sort of power. I... I see him, and... I can't help myself, I get so... gods! But after, I'm so ashamed, I want to die... <Sylvie> ::considers a minute:: Are you... how long, before he comes in, are you eating? <Rosin> I... I don't know. It's... I'm asleep, lots of times. I almost think I... I'm dreaming him, and it brings him to me... ::whimpers:: <Rosin> And I... ::scrape of movement against the wall:: he's not even forcing me, or anything, I... ::sobs:: I'm such a... <Sylvie> ::harsh, again:: Stop that. You're not doing this. He is. Listen to me, Rosin. He is doing this to you. <Rosin> ::gulp of breath:: How... how do you know? How do you know I'm not... like that? <Sylvie> ::grimly:: Because no woman in her right mind would want him. And forgive me, but you don't sound that far gone, yet. <Rosin> ::near-hysterical laugh:: I... you've never seen him, you don't know, you can't.... <Sylvie> ::snorts:: I've seen all too much of Lyegen Sableson, thank you. I belonged to his uncle for three years or more. He's the apple that hasn't fallen far from the tree, that one. <Rosin> You-- you're *that* Sylvie? Mace's Sylvie? Snowman's wife? Oh... oh, gods... <Sylvie> ::looks down at her ring, her throat tightening:: Yes, Snowman's wife... ::her voice catches in a soft sob:: <Rosin> Oh, no... please don't... please don't cry... <Sylvie> ::takes a few deep breaths:: Sorry, Rosin. I miss him. I miss him so much. We haven't been apart, not for more than a few hours... <Rosin> I... ::voice dropping to a bare whisper:: I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you it'll be alright, but... he *hates* you. And them. He wants Mace to still be alive, so he can kill him himself... <Sylvie> ::shakes her head as if unaware that she can't be seen:: They brought it on themselves, Sable and Wheeler both. Lyegen should be cautious in his desires. <Rosin> ::shrinking into herself at the last word:: He... he hates *you.* He hates that you were so successful. ::whimpers:: And he... I can't escape him... I'm not sure I *want* to enough... <Sylvie> ::angrily:: Don't be stupid, woman. He is *drugging* you. He's already done it to another girl, got her so hooked around something that she would have killed Dawn's family. <Rosin> He... did? He... you really think so? ::deep, relieved sigh, like all the air was flowing out of her lungs at once:: So it's... not him. And not *me*. Thank the gods, it's not *me*.... <Sylvie> ::nods:: I heard you, earlier... And that poor girl, Violet, so confused... it makes sense, Rosin, it really does. <Rosin> ::small gasp:: Violet? Did you say Violet? <Sylvie> I did. Dawn's helping her, trying to get her off the drugs. Dawn's woman's not exactly happy about it, but Violet could have killed them both. ::sighs:: Damn Lyegen. Damn him. <Rosin> Oh, gods... not Violet, please... ::sounding horrified:: she'd worship the ground he walked on, if she knew he was in Marsember. And she's such a quiet, frightened little thing. ::softly, her tone somewhere between anger and despair:: Damn him, indeed... <Sylvie> It's all right. Dawn knows... he's taking care of her. ::softly:: They'll find us. Snowman won't give up on me. <Sylvie> ::muttering, almost to herself:: He'd better not. I am not going to die like this... not at the hands of that... don't know how he was born anyway. Sable couldn't stay hard long enough to get it *in* a woman in the first place. <Rosin> ::shudders, pressing against the wall, sounding sick:: Tower... isn't like that. <Rosin> He... he means to kill him to, you know. He was really, really angry about a week ago... he said something about... the trouble of breaking him again? I... ::touch of shame again:: I'm sorry. I can't... think well, when he's around. * Sylvie draws in a sharp breath, clutching her hand to her suddenly pounding heart. "Again? Geremi... oh, mother of the gods... Tarish. Oh, Geremi, oh gods." She starts to sob as quietly as possible, choking and gagging on her hand to muffle the sounds. <Guard> ::peers in through the grate, and thumps on her door:: Here, none of that, you! Keep your hands from your mouth or I'll chain 'em to the wall! <Rosin> ::quiet whisper:: Please, please don't, I'm sorry, what did I say? Please don't cry... <Sylvie> ::spits:: Bastard. ::she glowers at the guard through her tears until he turns away:: <Guard> ::mutters something about liking it better the other way, and turns away from the door again with a curse as it becomes apparent that Sylvie has no intention of killing herself just now:: <Sylvie> ::her teeth still bared in a snarl:: Breaking him... oh my Geremi... ::she wipes at her eyes angrily:: His first wife... she was killed. It nearly drove him insane. It must have been... <Rosin> ::hesitantly:: I'm... I'm sorry. But I don't see... ::indrawn breath:: Tower? Tower killed her? <Sylvie> ::shrugs one shoulder:: I... I don't know. I thought Mace killed the ones responsible... but... it could have been. <Rosin> Oh, that's horrible... and... ::pauses:: what... what would happen to Snowman, if Tower... *told* him? If he doesn't know? <Sylvie> ::her voice harsh:: Then I hope Lyegen's made his peace with the gods. <Rosin> ::silent nod:: Has he... come for you, yet? <Sylvie> No. I only saw him once. ::smirks:: He looks a sight. Wonder what happened to his face? <Rosin> I don't... ::choked voice:: I'm not generally... looking at his face. He has a lot of scars, though. <Sylvie> ::hastily:: Don't think about it, Rosin. It won't change anything to dwell... I know. Do you have a sweetheart, back at home? Friends? Something else? Tell me... <Rosin> I... ::voice uneven:: I don't really... have anyone. I never had much... ::she pauses to get her voice, in danger of breaking again, back under control:: ...much interest in boys. I liked... being on my own, you know? There's... ::hesitantly:: There's my guitar... I don't know... I guess it's still at that tavern. ::anxiously:: I hope the alewife kept it for me... <Sylvie> ::surprised:: You're a minstrel? <Rosin> ::shyly:: Yes. ::a little defensively:: It's... it's a good way to pick up gossip, you know. People never think we're listening. * Sylvie smiles and pets the wall. "I'm sure you play wonderfully. I always liked music, myself. Might have a place for you, if you're interested, later. My house is expanding." <Rosin> I... ::a little strangled:: I don't... *want* to be a whore... I'm... I mean no offense... <Sylvie> ::shakes her head:: No, I meant, as a musician. Not everyone who works there... *works* there, you know. <Rosin> ::small voice, a note of relief:: Oh. I'm... sorry, I misunderstood. <Rosin> ::thoughtfully:: That... might be nice. I... I don't know that I'd feel so... safe, on my own, now. <Sylvie> ::fiercely:: We'll keep you safe, once we get out of here. I promise, Rosin. <Rosin> ::pressing against the wall:: Thank you... Sylvie. ::she smiles on the name:: <Sylvie> ::very, very softly:: They'll find us. I promise, they will. Mace's widow... she can find us. We just need to hold on, give them time. <Rosin> ::biting her lip:: If... if they don't... it's okay. But... thank you. It... it feels good, to have someone care about me. <Sylvie> They will... they have to. ::chews on her finger:: Not for me, not for me, but... gods, Geremi... |
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