• Graded • Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

PGJD for short

With the escalation of hostilities between Etzos and Rhakros, a series of small walled towns is being established as a network of early warnings and defenses against Rhakros' reprisals. Only the very bravest and most formidable of characters should risk themselves on the Witches' Wilds frontier.

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Yanahalqah
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Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

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Cylus 20 Arc 717


The wooden board that was supposed to be her bed and bench hurt her back when she lied on it. It was not wide or long enough to be comfortable. The position of it against the wall made it so she couldn’t place the board anywhere but adjacent to the central line of her body. The chains that attached to the corners furthest from the wall, holding the board in the horizontal position seemed to be designed to take up more space, limiting the surface that could be used to sleep on.

The floor would have been more comfortable, though the residual smell that clung to the stones of both the back wall and the floortiles made her unwilling to even consider touching it. She wasn’t as obsessive with cleanness and the like as someone she knew, but there was a limit to what she was willing to place her body on. Mud or hay wouldn’t have been a problem, but the tangy scent of urine that hung in the small space like a toxic cloud left no doubt in her mind that the floor was not an option. She had crawled to mud and blood, she had swum through marches and still water trapped in filthy caves. She had hidden amongst fresh corpses, clambering over them, draping them over her. She even rode a fucking horse, but she would never lower herself to the point where she would prefer to lie on a piss and whatever other waste-stained floor over a hard, unyielding, torturously designed wooden board.

She chewed on hard bread that was several trials too old to be consumed, swallowing it down with the help of some stale water that probably came from a rain barrel where mosquitoes and other vermin would have laid eggs in if it was the right season. But she refused to touch that disgusting floor with anything but the soles of her boots.

Yana was not sure why she was here. There were no charges against her, the men who’d brought her in had revealed nothing. Instead, they had boldly announced she was under arrest and was to come with them. They’d been armed, and from the looks of it, they had been itching for a fight. The Yludih was certain she would have been able to take the both of them on and escape, but she was too aware of what resisting arrest led to. Any excuse was enough to tack on more punishment, more jail time, and would provide them with actual charges.

No, instead she’d surrendered, asked what she was accused of, why this arrest was taking place. After all, she was certain she had done nothing that would warrant such treatment. Nothing illegal, except for the poison she’d slipped in the Commander’s ale. Even then, that event and the arrest had followed too closely to one another for them to be linked. Besides, the poison shouldn’t have been in a detectable state just yet. No obvious symptoms, no clues. Nothing. And yet, here she was.

That could mean one of two things. Either the Etzos military had figured out she was back --but she found it odd they hadn’t come for her themselves, and she hadn’t been brought to one of their cells-- or someone with a gru--

Footsteps closed in, Yana could hear the clattering of keys, the fiddling with the rusty lock on the thick door that lead to the jail area. The creaking as the key was turned, the loud clang of the latch unlocking the mechanism that kept the way closed off. The door opened with a loud scraping over the floor tiles, wood dragging over stone. Someone was coming.
Last edited by Yanahalqah on Tue May 22, 2018 5:32 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 639
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Happy Zipday to you

I'm being coerced into this. We agreed it was supposed to be AF but-

*is gagged and dragged into the darkness*
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Yanahalqah
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Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

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Those footsteps had an awfully familiar cadence to them; too deliberately paced, each footfall timed just-a-little too perfectly. Judging by the way the boot touched the ground, Yana would hazard that it was a female of-

Crap.

When Fiona O’Connor popped into view, Yana wished she had battled her way out of the arrest rather than sit here at the mercy of her one-time wingmate. Of course. It all made sense now.

The mage was dressed in that usual white blouse she sported so often Yana suspected she had an entire wardrobe with one for each trial. She was a creature of routine, Yana knew, a neurotic perfectionist with a sense of the world that clearly demanded some kind of sick sense of personal order to her daily affairs. Her hair was styled in that same aggressive parted style, her pants were still brown leather, her eyes were still those cold chips of blue ice, and her face sported the kind of anger that, on another person, would meant sheer, open rage but on Fiona simply meant she wasn’t in a too terrible mood.

Everything was relative.

Fiona didn’t say anything, didn’t even seem to look at her at first. She simply strolled past the length of her cell, her fingers strumming against the bars as she made her way to the far table to the side and sat there.

This was odd.

There was no doubt in the Yludih’s mind that the sole reason for her incarceration was sitting at that table, and yet, the gloating she had expected to follow didn’t come. No taunts, no efforts to prove her superiority. No flaunting of her contacts and resources and cleverness. No quips either. This was something new entirely. Fiona was being unpredictable for once, and Yana did not like it. As bad as they tended to be, she would pick the quips any trial over the anomaly she was trapped in.

“How nice of you to visit, Fiona,” Yana began, trying to fish for a reaction. “I wish you’d given me a heads up first. Would have cleaned up a little, maybe put down some flowers to brighten up these bare walls.” She left her position at the bars to sit back down on her wooden bench, patting a spot next to her as to invite the woman to come in and have a seat. She didn’t lose her view of the mage. Still no reaction. This certainly was off. Something was not right here.
Last edited by Yanahalqah on Tue May 22, 2018 5:37 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 434
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Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

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She noticed Fiona make a small gesture with a finger, and two guards approached the cell, one with a heavy keychain, the other holding a set of manacles. She let them shackle her wrists together, allowed them to roughly lead her to the table and push her down in the chair. Face to face with Fiona, who still hadn’t said a word. Yana heaved the manacles onto the table, studying them for a moment before returning her gaze to Fiona’s face. “Usually I have to strangle you to make you shut up, and now you’re not going to say anything? That’s pretty cold, Fi, even for you.”

“You were in the patriot’s bar.” Not a question. If the dead had blue eyes, Fiona would be it. “Talking with the commander.”

“Yes,” she responded with a shrug. “What of it?”

“That,” Fiona said, “would happen to be my question to you, Rayna Ramsey.”

”You want to know why I was talking with Foster’s resident mustached idiot?”

“Questions meet questions,” Fiona said, tapping the table with a slow finger, the sound ringing across the entire room. “Stall.” Tap. “Stall.” Tap. “Stall.” Tap.

“Fine,” Yana sighed, looking very much like she was about to confess a grave sin. “I see merit in his way of thinking and am considering to join his cause.” There was no hint of sarcasm in her tone of voice.

Without missing a beat, Fiona slapped her hard across the face. Only the guards holding on to her kept her head from swerving to the side. Fiona retrieved a handkerchief from her leather pants and began wiping her hand with it.

“From what I understand,” Yana spoke, spitting out some blood-like liquid, “you’re supposed to laugh when people make jokes.” She wanted to bring her hands to her face to feel the stinging part of her cheek, but immediately, the guards pressed her arms back onto the table. The Yludih made an irritated noise. “What’s gotten you so agitated, Fiona?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.” Fiona ‘laughed’ like falling stones. “What’s gotten you so eager to make friends, Red?”

Yana responded with a satisfied smile. “If even you see it that way, the whole of Foster’s will too.” She was very pleased with this revelation. “The answer you seek is ‘money’ by the by.”

“That’s my answer too,” Fiona said. She hesitated a bit, as if the action she was about to take was completely foreign to her, before she reached out and cupped Yana by the chin and tugging her closer. Maybe it was meant to be seductive or domineering or aggressive, but it just came off as awkward. Fiona had many strengths; subtle expressions of physical intimidation were not one of them. “Your bounty doesn’t quite match the prince’s, but I’m sure it’ll be enough to cover the reparations of being trapped in middle of the ocean for-”

“You’re right. I should have left you in the hold of a mangled ship to drown,” Yana interrupted. “Why am I not surprised?”
Last edited by Yanahalqah on Tue May 22, 2018 5:41 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 528
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Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

“And why do I let you go on these diversions?” Fiona retorted, releasing her chin. The inside of her eyes flashed briefly with pitter-patter of shadow hands that battered at the walls of her eyes; her particularly ghastly Attunement witchbrand made manifest. “I’ll rip it right out of you.”

“Here we go again,” Yana sighed. “Every solution to every problem you encounter is magic, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “You want me to talk, but you do not consider the circumstances in which this talk should happen. Use your damn head.”

Fiona obliged.

She threw her head back and rammed her with a vicious headbutt. In the ringing pain that followed, Yana was beginning to think that Fiona was less interested in productive interrogation and more interested in finding every tiny excuse to physically assault her.

“You want me to,” Fiona said, rubbing her head a little. Yana repressed the instinctive smirk threatening to spread across her lips. “send the guards away, have a little us time, confess all your deepest secrets in private. Find rapture in solitude.” The bloodied shadow fists flashed again, streaks of blood painting the insides of her eyes. “A pig? I didn’t know you liked your reflection so, so very much.”

Close. A little too close. Yana knew Fiona’s so-called mind reading powers often went on weird tangents based on what she chose to look for, but the fact that she had gotten even the impression of the hog was too close for comfort to the poison pig squeal.

Or maybe she knew.

Maybe she was just screwing with her, chipping away at a riddle she already knew the answer to. Maybe this was just an extended session of sadism. The latter was very probable, mostly because in all the time Fiona had been sitting at the table before Yana’s cell was opened, she could already have used her magic. The witchbrand was just an intimidation factor, a forced display of dominance. If she already knew everything, but just wanted it from the Yludih’s own mouth, she would have had to use her Attunement. There was no other possibility.
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Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

“What if I do talk, then what happens? I get released and we both go our merry ways, living happily ever after?”

“Yes.” came the blunt lie.

“Mhmm. And I’m Marshal Pahrn’s daughter.”

“What are you made of, Red?” Fiona said, thankfully cutting short what she knew would have been an increasing series of escalating lies. “I’m gonna hit something you don’t want me to see and we both know how you cherish your privacy.”

Yana narrowed her eye, shooting the younger woman a dirty glare. She sighed. “What did you want to know again?”

“Leave us, fuckos.” Fiona said to the two guards, not taking her eyes off Yana’s. “Shoo.” she said again. What the hell was wrong with her today? Erratic action after erratic action - well, more erratic than usual. She knew Yana wanted them gone. With the door shut behind them and the guards gone, Fiona asked, “Did you poison him?”

“Yes.” As simple as that.

“When will he die?” came her response, just as simple.

Yana eyed her warily. He was her… baby to sit. The man was an insufferable buffoon, but Fiona had stuck with him so far, despite him being an absolute madman. What was she thinking? With the expected time of death, she could deduce the poison used. However, the symptoms would do that too--

“He has a Tunawa with him.”

“Guess I’m not getting paid for completing the job then.”

Fiona hesitated and she knew she was trying to ask two questions and picking out the one she wanted.

She settled on “How much?” first.

“Not enough. Easy job and all that. Six hundred.”

“A whore might have asked for more to lay with him.” Fiona said. “Who?”

“A whore has to both take him AND hear him spout nonsense.”

“Fair, fair.” Fiona nodded, the tiniest hint of an ugly smile tugging upon her vacant face. “Who?”

“Noth. The Prince himself. Cuckoo, whatever you want to call him.”

“Asshole.” Zipper muttered. “But you might just get paid yet.”

Her hands closed around Yana’s, eerily gentle after all the attacks Fiona had snucked in on her, and the manacles rotted to pieces. “You’re free to go. Tell the bird this happened. Don’t. I really can’t be arsed today.”

“He worked via a liaison. But sure, whatever.” She gave the woman another scrutinizing look. “What’s your deal today anyway? Someone take a shit on your favorite blouse?”

“You’re free to go,” Fiona repeated, already looking away.

Yana easily pulled her hands out of the shattered manacles, picking pieces of corroded metal out of her sleeves afterwards. She didn’t stand though. “You do realize you’re not fooling me, I hope? What happened between you and the Commander?”
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Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

“Interrogation’s long over, Red. Missed your chance. Cell’s still there if you want to push.”

Yana would have enjoyed throwing something like “I’ll rip the truth out of you” back in Fiona’s face, but without magic, things she couldn’t know wouldn’t become known to her. Ah well. Cheating bitch. “Sensitive topic, I see. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so upset, but well, it’s none of my business, you’re right.”

She moved to the door then, pausing for a moment. “Tell your goons I’m released, will you?” Another pause. “And by the by, happy birthday, Fiona.” Awkward timing, really. Perhaps she shouldn’t have added it. She turned around and walked right out of the room, leaving Fiona to herself.

Or she would have if Fiona didn’t respond just as her hand closed around the door.

“How’s the pirate hunt?” Fiona asked. “And I don’t want lip about the boat.”

“Pretty awful. I’ll manage though. I have access to new potential leads now, so there’s that.” She shrugged. “Well, at least until the Commander figures out who poisoned him. When he survives.” She wished she’d known about the Tunawa, at least. Perhaps she should have went with her first idea, and just have shot him in the head from afar. There was no surviving an arrow through the skull… his had seemed incredibly thick though, so she wasn’t entirely sure it would have worked. “Can’t imagine how you tolerate being around him.”

“I don’t.” came the immediate, biting response. “I’m no Turkey. We’re not on the same side. He and I are just cogs in the system who just happen to grind- okay no, not going down that line of thought.” Fiona said, shuddering visibly, her hands wrapped around herself. “Kill him. See if I care.” There was something else to that statement, something veiled, something else about her today that just seemed off-

She had only swore once today.

Was she sick?

Or maybe…

“It’s your brother, isn’t it?”
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Post Ganguitic Jail Disorder

It was the only thing Yana could think of Fiona cared enough about to warrant this change in attitude. Or perhaps if she’d lost the ability to do magic, but she had used both her Attunement and Transmutation, so that couldn’t be it.
She neither confirmed nor denied it. She barely even acknowledged it. Miserable -well more miserable than usual- Fiona would have made a fine Yludih.

“Are we friends, Red?” she asked. Too casually, too carelessly, with too little emphasis to be anything but important. “We’ve had our differences-”

“Honestly, Fi? I don’t know.” She sounded defeated. “What we had-- what we have… it’s complicated.”

“I disagree. I think it’s been very simple.”

“Perhaps it is. For me though, it’s complicated. But if it’s very simple in your eyes, you tell me, Fi. Are we friends?”

“I ripped out your eye. You left me on a boat to uncertain doom.” Fiona seemed to think about it for a moment. “I suppose we are. I would have killed anyone for a fraction of that slight.”

“Me too. I guess that’s that then.” She offered a tiny smile.

“Guess so.” She didn’t return the smile, but Yana felt it. At least she thought she felt it.

“Anyway. Take care, Fiona.”

“Take care, Rayna.”

With that she made an attempt to leave Fiona behind her as she strode out of the cellblock and into the world-

“Wait.”

She didn’t turn over her shoulder. She simply stood at the door, her back facing Fiona. What else was there to say?

“I need to forget today,” Fiona said. Pleaded, rather. “Gangui, Finn, I don’t care. I don’t want to care. It’s so easy not to care but I can’t today.” She couldn’t see her face and she wanted to turn around but she didn’t. “Please help me forget today.”

She never said please. Ever.

“I’m sorry, Fi.” She really was. “I used the gem yesterday. The memories are trapped for another two days.”

She could feel Fiona narrow her eyes. “I don’t need your bloody trinket, you moron.”

“Oh,” the Yludih said sheepishly, turning around. “Oh.”

Fiona shrugged and, with some effort, smiled a tired smile.

Tired… but not unwelcome.
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Reverse Pirate Rynata,
here to reverse pirate your rewards!
Name: Yana

Knowledge:
Investigation: Deduction
Investigation: connecting the dots
Investigation: filling the blanks
Investigation: taking notice of agitation in people
Interrogation: Asking questions
Deception: Answering questions with a question
Endurance: lying on an uncomfortable surface
Endurance: the pain from an unexpected slap

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Expenses: N/A
Renown: N/A
Magic XP: N/A

Points: 15
Comments: Great imagery of the cell. Had me all uncomfortable and disgusted. Very sassy as well ;) Sorry for the delay!
Name: Zipper

Knowledge:
Attunement: Note: Unknown (Yludih)
Attunement: Using Attunement as a vague, semi-reliable lie detector
Endurance: Headbutting a Yludih
Investigation: Asking questions
Investigation: Confirming the facts
Investigation: Connecting the dots
Investigation: Getting the details
Unarmed Combat: Slapping to demoralize
Unarmed Combat: A perfect headbutt to the temple

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Expenses: N/A
Renown: N/A
Magic XP: N/A

Points: 15
Comments: Intriguing relationships and interactions. Always love how boss Zipper seems to be in these situations. Sorry for the delay!
If you feel I've missed anything or if you have questions about your review, please don't hesitate to send me a quick PM. Also, please indicate on your request thread that this has been reviewed. Thanks!
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