♕ 001 spam/text

[broughtwhiskey]

open spam - anywhere.
[Disoriented is a word for what Philip feels upon waking on the Barge. There's a dull throb of pain in his chest and his head, things he know he should be dead from, and his shirt is still slick with blood. He also recognizes the room he wakes up in with everything where it should be, but he knows it should burned out. The view outside the windows, however, aren't looking out into the streets of Woodbury, but an infinite void. He isn't sure if this is what death is supposed to be like, but he has a feeling it's not because it feels very much alive.]

[He's willing to stay as long as it takes to change and clean the blood off his face, but no longer than that. He doesn't feel particularly keen on lingering in a room with this many reminders right now. Already he's trying hard to not think of what just happened, the large amount of nothing he just left behind once more. He looks for any of his weapons before leaving to find them gone. So perhaps not everything is in its place. But no matter. He can improvise if the situation calls for it.]

[Stepping outside into the hall, he still doesn't know what to make of any of this. but if there's one thing he knows, it's that he needs to get his bearings and so he sets off to learn the layout of wherever the hell he's ended up.]

text.

[Later, after he's had the chance to explore and numerous explanations and perspectives on what this place is, he only has one question:]

How many of you are here?

Comments

[broughtwhiskey]

[...Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that, Loki. Philip's expression doesn't even remotely change.]

[Philip is quiet a moment, trying to decide if he's an inmate or warden. Inmate seems more likely with the attitude and the fact Loki didn't immediately start talking to him like essentially every other warden he's run into has.]

Been here long, Loki?

[tricksandmischief]

It has been about a month.

[There are pursed lips of irritation at that. It had been an unproductive month, punctuated by a little chaos and confusion. He still felt like it was a mistake that he was here.]

[broughtwhiskey]

[The notable displeasure in his response seals it for Philip. This is definitely an inmate.]

Haven't found it to your liking?

[tricksandmischief]

[He chuckles humourlessly at that.]

I suppose things could be worse, but no, this is not the place I would choose to be.

What about yourself?

[broughtwhiskey]

Well, I haven't been here long enough to have much of an opinion.

[He hasn't had long enough to get a sense of the people here. That, more than anything else about this situation, matters most.]

[tricksandmischief]

Did you come here willingly?

[broughtwhiskey]

No. But I don't suppose I was really in a position to make any decisions like that in the first place.

[Bullet in the brain and all that.]

[tricksandmischief]

So you are an inmate.

What happened? Did you die?

[He assumes, since it was implied to him all inmates died before being brought here.]

[broughtwhiskey]

Yeah.

[He waits to see if Loki will ask for the details. It doesn't mean he'll necessarily give them to him, but just how much of a prying interest is he going to take?]

[tricksandmischief]

[He's curious enough to ask.]

How?

[broughtwhiskey]

[Morbid curiosity, check.]

[Philip doesn't answer right away, debating for a moment whether or not to tell him anything.]

I was trying to take something from people that didn't deserve it.

[That's as far as he'll go in explaining any of it.]

[tricksandmischief]

Oh, I know that feeling.

[broughtwhiskey]

The same happen to you?

[tricksandmischief]

That is not what brought me here but in the past, yes.

[broughtwhiskey]

In the past?

[Loki had only mentioned being here a month, after all.]

[tricksandmischief]

Taking things from people who didn't deserve it. I have had to deal with those sort of people all my long life.

[broughtwhiskey]

Is that right?

[Philip could have easily guessed that from the earlier haughtiness, but he's not being sarcastic right now. Not openly anyway.]

[tricksandmischief]

Yes, although I suppose for both of us the perspective may be different since we are now both here.

Others may think we are the undeserving. The Admiral... The Wardens... The heroes.

[broughtwhiskey]

[Philip's smile is disingenuous.]

Is that what they tell themselves they are?

[tricksandmischief]

Yes, here they think that they are doing good and setting us all on the path of redemption.

[broughtwhiskey]

[It's of no surprise to Philip. Everyone loves and wants to be a hero.]

Some people find comfort in believing in a lie.

[tricksandmischief]

Indeed they do, and they enjoy being self righteous.

[broughtwhiskey]

[Philip smiles.]

Haven't met a soul yet who doesn't.

[tricksandmischief]

I do not suppose you have yet been assigned a warden.

[broughtwhiskey]

Not that I'm aware of.