Post by "Unfettered" on Feb 26, 2011 13:30:10 GMT -8
OOC: Due to posting limitations on Megan's end, but to make it perfectly public/canon, I'm posting the out-of-board "thread" I'm having with Megan/Delilah.
Delilah's Post
The inside of Delilah's special room had appeared unremarkable at first. The walls were, of course, padded, and everything was bolted to the floor just so, in a way that it prevented anything from becoming a weapon. Even the pillow was attatched to the bed. After her first few days confined to her room without incident, the ordelies had decided to let Delilah out for group therapy sessions with the other inmates.
This was a huge mistake on their part.
As Delilah walked into the room, accompanied of course by two very burly orderlies, she caught a snatch of conversation.
"...so I called the hitmen. I sent them after my daughter and my husband," The lady's voice was cold and flat. "My daughter escaped two fully grown, armed men. My husband wasnt so lucky." Now her voice had a hint of triumph.
"You mentioned you were caught the second time, MRS. Black." said a calm male voice. Delilah began to walk more quickly. "The first time you had your husband killed, you said it was to have a fresh start, corr-Oh." The orderly smiled as Delilah and her escort appeared in the doorway. "Everyone, may I introduce Delilah Black."
As the other inmates mumbled a greeting, slowly the orderlies realized that they had put the muderous mother in the same room as her daughter. If they had caught the pure fury in Delilah's eyes as she locked eyes with her mothers fearful ones, this might have been avoided.
Without a thought, Delilah launched herself at her mother and proceeded to beat her bloody, using all of the strength she was capable of using.
It had taken three men to pull Delilah off of her mother, and was reported to have screamed
"YOU BITCH, IT WAS YOU I KNEW IT WAS YOU YOU KILLED MY FATHER!"
Eventually, after a broken nose and a few cracked ribs, the orderlies had managed to sedate Delilah and confine her to her room. When she woke, there was a thin plastic mesh on the bulges of padding that lined her room. When she touched one, she found herself electrocuted. It seemed they would not underestimate her power again.
That had been two months ago.
She had been good ever since the incident with her mother, but they had not let her leave the white, white room. They sent therapists to her, and she talked openly, tonelessly. They kept her medicated, made sure she excersized, had her fed regularily. That did not prevent the weight loss or the gaunt look in her face. It worried them. These were the signs of a person near the breaking point.
Soon enough, the people at the Criminal Recovery Centre decided that Delilah was sane enough to leave. That she always had been, but her confinement had made her unstable. The trouble was finding someone to take her in, to help her recuperate. Finally, they found one.
"Unfettered's" Post
"Ja."
"Es scheint so, ich muss immer aufräumen nach seiner Kasinos."
[Translation: 'It seems like I must always clean up after his messes.']
"Miss Black, you have a visitor."
The voice would echo from the other door as the man in the wheelchair just sighed to himself in an annoyed fashion.
Unlocking the door, the large, burly orderly looked at the man with the eye-patch over his right eye.
"Now then, this is her but two months ago she did attack someone. If you need anything, please just yell. I'll keep the---"
"Keep ze damn door locked und shut."
"American Hundescheiße."
Clearly noting that he'd been cursed at under his breath, the orderly's face took a turn to something more begrudgingly serious. Not too gently, he'd wheel in the man before locking the door shut after him, muttering something that sounded familiarly like "asshole" under his own breath.
That was not the focus, however. Sitting there in the wheelchair was a nicely dressed "gentlemen." Black dress pants, Italian dress shoes and black socks were carefully tucked and fitted onto him, no doubt after what may have been an hour of preparation. His upper torso was nicely lined with a black business suit with silver buttons of... hexagonal design and emboldened rims. Hands were gloved in nice, soft black leather, the elbows resting precariously on the armrests, as the gloved fingers interwove into each other, while the man rested his head forward, staring at Miss Black. His nose wasn't as large as a certain familiar someone and his mouth wasn't as neatly pressed together. What's more... he head teal hair, rigid ears... and an eye-patch over his right eye.
This man was not "Unfettered."
"...He sent me," as if answering an unspoken question. His voice was sharper, more succient and staccatoed, failing to betray what would be to others as a more aromatic charisma, set aside instead for a more strict mindset. There was not much in kindness in his demeanour. The eye with which he stared at Delilah instead was more... cold.
"...You... are Miss Black, ja?"
Delilah's Post
The inside of Delilah's special room had appeared unremarkable at first. The walls were, of course, padded, and everything was bolted to the floor just so, in a way that it prevented anything from becoming a weapon. Even the pillow was attatched to the bed. After her first few days confined to her room without incident, the ordelies had decided to let Delilah out for group therapy sessions with the other inmates.
This was a huge mistake on their part.
As Delilah walked into the room, accompanied of course by two very burly orderlies, she caught a snatch of conversation.
"...so I called the hitmen. I sent them after my daughter and my husband," The lady's voice was cold and flat. "My daughter escaped two fully grown, armed men. My husband wasnt so lucky." Now her voice had a hint of triumph.
"You mentioned you were caught the second time, MRS. Black." said a calm male voice. Delilah began to walk more quickly. "The first time you had your husband killed, you said it was to have a fresh start, corr-Oh." The orderly smiled as Delilah and her escort appeared in the doorway. "Everyone, may I introduce Delilah Black."
As the other inmates mumbled a greeting, slowly the orderlies realized that they had put the muderous mother in the same room as her daughter. If they had caught the pure fury in Delilah's eyes as she locked eyes with her mothers fearful ones, this might have been avoided.
Without a thought, Delilah launched herself at her mother and proceeded to beat her bloody, using all of the strength she was capable of using.
It had taken three men to pull Delilah off of her mother, and was reported to have screamed
"YOU BITCH, IT WAS YOU I KNEW IT WAS YOU YOU KILLED MY FATHER!"
Eventually, after a broken nose and a few cracked ribs, the orderlies had managed to sedate Delilah and confine her to her room. When she woke, there was a thin plastic mesh on the bulges of padding that lined her room. When she touched one, she found herself electrocuted. It seemed they would not underestimate her power again.
That had been two months ago.
She had been good ever since the incident with her mother, but they had not let her leave the white, white room. They sent therapists to her, and she talked openly, tonelessly. They kept her medicated, made sure she excersized, had her fed regularily. That did not prevent the weight loss or the gaunt look in her face. It worried them. These were the signs of a person near the breaking point.
Soon enough, the people at the Criminal Recovery Centre decided that Delilah was sane enough to leave. That she always had been, but her confinement had made her unstable. The trouble was finding someone to take her in, to help her recuperate. Finally, they found one.
"Unfettered's" Post
Introducing A New Face
"Ja."
"Es scheint so, ich muss immer aufräumen nach seiner Kasinos."
[Translation: 'It seems like I must always clean up after his messes.']
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Miss Black, you have a visitor."
The voice would echo from the other door as the man in the wheelchair just sighed to himself in an annoyed fashion.
Unlocking the door, the large, burly orderly looked at the man with the eye-patch over his right eye.
"Now then, this is her but two months ago she did attack someone. If you need anything, please just yell. I'll keep the---"
"Keep ze damn door locked und shut."
"American Hundescheiße."
Clearly noting that he'd been cursed at under his breath, the orderly's face took a turn to something more begrudgingly serious. Not too gently, he'd wheel in the man before locking the door shut after him, muttering something that sounded familiarly like "asshole" under his own breath.
That was not the focus, however. Sitting there in the wheelchair was a nicely dressed "gentlemen." Black dress pants, Italian dress shoes and black socks were carefully tucked and fitted onto him, no doubt after what may have been an hour of preparation. His upper torso was nicely lined with a black business suit with silver buttons of... hexagonal design and emboldened rims. Hands were gloved in nice, soft black leather, the elbows resting precariously on the armrests, as the gloved fingers interwove into each other, while the man rested his head forward, staring at Miss Black. His nose wasn't as large as a certain familiar someone and his mouth wasn't as neatly pressed together. What's more... he head teal hair, rigid ears... and an eye-patch over his right eye.
This man was not "Unfettered."
"...He sent me," as if answering an unspoken question. His voice was sharper, more succient and staccatoed, failing to betray what would be to others as a more aromatic charisma, set aside instead for a more strict mindset. There was not much in kindness in his demeanour. The eye with which he stared at Delilah instead was more... cold.
"...You... are Miss Black, ja?"
