spacin' out;

gideon demarco. 26. hybrid. still in purgatory.

[gideondemarco]

date + time: january 31st, 3:02am location: lab on ssv cygnus status: closed, @theonwyndham

Awaking with a start, Gideon let himself lay completely still in bed for a few moments. Enough time for his heart to stop racing, his breathing to return to normal. Not, however, enough time to erase the images from his dream from his mind. Another doctor, another laser, another test. Though he had been in Purgatory for years, some nights he just couldn't shake the memories from before.

With a new environment came new dreams, but they seemed to hold the same theme. He would never get used to the long, narrow hallways and the pristine lab tables, as much as he would try. Now, however, he at least had a little freedom. He could wander the ship to clear his mind, find something in the lab to fiddle with until his mind was calmer. And so, after a few moments of lying in bed, he pushed himself up and let his feet carry him to what he hoped would make him feel minutely better.

He barely looked at the clock before leaving, but he knew it was late. So, he wasn't expecting to run into anyone. The lights came on as he entered the room, sensing movement automatically. He headed to his small section of the room; he didn't need much, and he knew the others seemed to have found a rhythm long before he joined the crew. It took him a few moments to realize that he wasn't alone.

Theon was slumped over on the table, obviously asleep. Somewhat curious, Gideon left the few scraps of metal he had picked up, save for a few nuts and bolts slipped into a pocket, and headed towards the man cautiously. It seemed as if he wasn't going to wake up easily, so Gideon pulled a chair to the other side of the table and sat himself across from the man. Watching his shoulders rise and fall for a few breaths, he finally worked up the nerve to poke his arm. “Theon?” he said, his voice still low. “I know these beds aren't comfortable, but fuck. They're better than Purgatory,” he said, a smirk on his lips as the man across from him started to wake up. He had questions, of course, but they could wait until he was alert enough to answer.

[gideondemarco]

juniperdemarco:

“No, I know you wouldn’t care.” He might feel guilty that she had thrown her freedom away for him, but he wouldn’t care how many people she had killed to get here. Not unless they were innocent, and those were few and far between in this world. “But I don’t think the authorities will accept that answer. ‘I’m sorry, officer, but my brother loves me too much.’” Her tone was deadpan but he should have known her well enough to know when she was teasing.

His hand on her shoulder felt like a miracle. There had been days when she had wondered if she would ever touch him again, ever hug him or playfully touch his shaggy hair and tell him he needed to cut it, ever nudge him in the elbow when he was being what she would describe as 'ridiculous’. “I already told you you’re a bloody idiot.” He had wanted his inventions to be put to good use and probably hoped he would be rewarded for them, but it seemed all the corporations knew how to do was exploit. “But I think you’ve been punished enough, so I’ll refrain from smacking you upside the head again.” She inclined her forehead to his hand, leaning against it and softly kissing it before drawing herself upright again.

She should have known he would have questions. He had always been a questioning and curious boy. Why should this be any different? “The Rebels told me who to break out. They showed me files on each of them. I don’t know what their interest in them is. I never asked.” Even if she had, Juniper had the impression they wouldn’t have been very forthcoming. “Plan is a… loose term. There’s only so much I can know about this place from the outside, but I do know that your blood-drinking Septima is the queen of this place. They use androids as guards, which means you and your tech buddy have access to them. Then there’s a woman who works in the medical bay. She has access to drugs that might be of use. They’re all… pieces. Pieces solving a puzzle. That’s why I need to get to them.”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Who knows, you might get lucky. Won’t even need the rebels to help us,” Gideon said, a lopsided smile back on his lips. He couldn’t deny it felt good to be joking with her again, already slipping back into their easy relationship. It had been years, but thankfully not much had changed. It seemed as if they had both had been through hell and back, but he felt better if they at least had each other.

“You say that a lot,” he said with a bit of a shrug, knowing that she wasn’t wrong. It was an idiotic plan, one that he regretted almost immediately. It was the reason she was here, the reason he was sure his parents spent nights worrying about them both. “I just…I wanted to do something for Mom and Dad, you know? They gave me so much, and I thought I could do this for them,” he said, his hand never leaving her shoulder. Though it was foolish, he wanted to do something more than just follow in their parents’ footsteps. He thought he could be more, even if it was rare that a simple boy from the Crest ever escaped that life. “I missed you. All of you,” he said softly, his hand finally settling back in his own lap. Maybe it was a given; he was sure she knew how he felt. There was just a part of him that knew he could never say it enough.

“So we’re working for the rebels now? Or is it just a one-time deal?” he asked, still unsure of what exactly she had committed to. Though there was no doubt in his mind that if she was working with them, he would have to as well. They weren’t getting split up, not so soon after finding each other again. “You really think Septima is going to help us?” he said, shaking his head at his sister. She might have a grand idea of how their breakout might go, but like she said: there’s only so much you can know from the outside. “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

[gideondemarco]

robyn-kane:

Her tissues stained red, yellow, and brown once she’d wiped the damage from his face, revealing a crooked smile, a boy battered too soon into manhood. Another fracture, another split-lipped wince, another kiss on the head that promised the pendulum of his heartbeat would stall on alright. Maybe in some life, the two would know what it was like to be in control of their momentum -  outside Crest, outside the spiteful bars of their prison cells, blades of grass sheathed by sunlight, their battles long left behind. A breeze, gentle and sweet. The smell of springtime all around. And endless youth, endless vigor, beams of yellow light cascaded by a red sun on their faces, their hands full of brown dirt, alive. 

A gentle pulse travelled from Gideon’s palm to hers, a shiver of warmth that broke Purgatory’s bitter chill. “You know us heroes, Gid,” Robyn murmured, “always worrying.” But maybe a little more about him than most, like a sister would for a delinquent brother, like a friend for an old friend. He’d let her swing around their cell, soothed the gatling gun of her heartbeat after Alpha. Maybe both of their bodies held wreckage. Maybe the pendulum swung both ways.

“I guess I, um…” She turned her head, swallowing. “I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe you’d gotten out, hadn’t seen you in a while, so…” She shrugged. “Guess I was worried I’d never get to say goodbye.” Guilt made a hostage of her stomach. It was a selfish concern, a selfish desire, but here Gideon was, an aphid among aphids masquerading as ladybugs, green leaves held up, staining red in the hopes of more convincing exoskeletons. Turn the creatures over and find squishy bellies, frightened hearts. To say her friend didn’t belong here would be to imply any of them did, but Gideon… “Things have been good,” she said, words spun out so many times they must be true. “My cleaning team’s been busting their asses - polishing hallways, this place looks better than ever. And my T cell count came back strong, so…” She forced a smile. “I’m alright. We’re alright. Just making the best of things one day at a time.”

There were few people that could make him feel at peace in Purgatory by just being at his side, but Robyn was one. She was a reminder of simpler times, a comfort in the chaos that prison life brought. And she cared about him, something that couldn’t be said about most of his former cellmates. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know,” he said, a gentle elbow nudging into her side. He wanted her to stop worrying, to just relax and savor the moment together. They seemed to have so few, as they both went on with their lives. Fixing androids, cleaning the prison halls.

Of course, he worried about her too. Robyn may have left his cell, but she still crossed his mind frequently. Alpha was made to sound like a terrible place, probably to keep most of the inmates out of trouble. With him, Robyn had always been so gentle. It seemed as if Alpha wasn’t fitting for the woman, but he knew that sometimes, things weren’t fair. Somehow, she always found herself in a spot of trouble, and he knew he should be used to it by now. They were both okay for now, and that’s all that mattered.

“Hey, I’d never…I’d never leave without saying goodbye,” he said, words accompanied another gentle squeeze of her hand. There was hope, now that Juniper had found him. Maybe they both could be free, but he knew better than to spring the news on Robyn so soon. His sister had a plan, or at least the beginnings of one. She would approach the other woman in time. There was nothing more that he wanted than to be free, but to get their hopes up too soon would be damaging. “That’s great, Robyn. Really great,” he said with a smile. “Tech is as exciting as always. There’s a new guy, though. He actually talks to me,” he said with a laugh. He had never been fond of the people in the tech wing, but now he at least had someone. “I think things are going to start looking up,” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

[gideondemarco]

just-pam:

date & time : november 9th 2178, 11:17 pm location : purgatory; mess hall closed : @gideondemarco​

Routine and monotony had always offered a sort of security within Purgatory, which was why PAM had clung to it so religiously. Not even a glance was spared when one did exactly as they were meant to— and if it was praise that they sought, or recognition beyond their station, then they were in the wrong line of work. Alternatively, to stray from the duties one was committed to, would mean certain consequences that were nothing short of grave.

With the promise of comfort offered by familiarity, in amidst the sea of unknown faces, it was only natural that PAM gravitated towards that few that she was most acquainted with— or as much as she dared in circumstances where amity very easily bordered on audacity. And audacity was what gets Androids shut down.

Of course, it was still her job to try and keep the peace between the inmates. Perhaps not with such direct (and oft times violent) methods as those employed by her siblings, it was still the responsibility of every Android to surveil, and report any misconducts and abnormalities should such a creature rear its head. If the chorus of grunts and gutturals that perpetually echoed around the mess hall was of any indication, conflict was a permanent residence within Purgatory. Though anarchic at the best of times, the hall was not without its quiet spots. Those were usually found at the edge of the hall, which suited PAM fine. Not much life was found out here. Most of it were concentrated in the centre of the hall where life manifested in a fury of flying fists and fervent curses. Stragglers lived out here. Outcasts. Not unlike herself.

So it was not considered out of the ordinary for PAM to stroll past this particular table, where a particular inmate have been known to station himself at this particular time. Wordlessly surveying the length of the mess hall from the mouth of the stairs; a meagre feet or two from the seated inmate. Were her Creator with her, she might have said ‘hi’, allowing PAM to express the same cordiality without the risk of suspicion. She was very much alone this time and she felt the loneliness echo in the hollow of her titanium bones.

Humans could not survive without companionship, a thinking mind for which the contents of their thoughts could be shared; a haven to absolve one from the internal chaos that was as real to them as any bleeding organs. Androids did not suffer from the same ailment as their Organic counterpart. Or at least, they weren’t meant to. Without her Creator, PAM had been subject to the human ailment more intensely than she’s ever had and now she was responsible for finding her own cure— and she watched as he lifted his head ever so slightly from its initial position, as if alerted to the new presence that had joined him.

Gideon had graduated from passing inmate to a temporary respite that PAM had come to look forward to whenever she was made to follow this particular route. Of course, she seldom ever said as much.

Purgatory was a curious place, a fact Gideon soon realized after arriving. Living in the prison was an adjustment, one that the man wasn’t sure he would ever truly be used to. Surprises lurked around every corner, and there seemed to never be a dull day. There were more rules than the labs ever had. Of course, he was more obedient here than he had been when kept in the basement of the Wexler Corporation. There were more serious punishments here; a beating instead of another blood test or synthetic check. He still hadn't decided which place he liked more, if he ever could say he particularly liked a place. Maybe the sentiment should be hated less. 

If the labs held less horrors, at least Purgatory held people he liked. A guardian angel with a rough exterior, a cell mate who reminded him of his sister. Even a new tech who had worked his way into Gideon’s good graces. It wasn't a large number of companions, but it was more than the labs ever had. With the doctors being the only living things he saw, Purgatory was a change. Perhaps not for the better, but it did seem to come with some good things.

The prison also housed guards, both human and android. This was another difference, as the labs held cameras and numerous locked doors, but no guards. They didn’t expect the patients to fight back, and they never really did. There were android attendants that visited the lab infrequently, often when a doctor wasn't available to check on their patients. They were never the most welcoming bunch, formal and uncaring as they checked your vitals. They were created for a purpose, much like the PAM units Gideon found present in the prison. They weren't as violent as their human counterparts, but they were a watchful eye. There was always someone watching in Purgatory, android or otherwise.

However scary the majority of the PAM units had made themselves, in Gideon’s mind at least, there was one he came to appreciate. He wasn't sure of their unit number, but he had come to expect the presence of the Android at his mess hall table infrequently. She didn't seem to have a regularly scheduled shift in the mess hall, but when she did, she didn't mind his offhand comments like the others might. He wouldn't say he was friends with any android, but he was sure this was the closest he could get to any guard in the complex.

“Another beautiful day in Purgatory, isn't it?” he asked, his eyes still trained on his bowl of mush in front of him. He had learned to not expect much of a response from any unit, much less the one who seemed to join him at the table. And he was plenty aware that it almost seemed as if he was taking to himself. Maybe a sign of how lonely he found himself in Purgatory, or maybe he knew she seemed like just as much of a prisoner as he did. Whatever the case, he didn't plan on stopping their one-sided chats until he got in trouble for them.

[gideondemarco]

juniperdemarco:

Even with years of seperation between them, Gideon still knew her better than anyone else. Even their parents who Juniper had spent years comforting about the loss of their son couldn’t come close to understanding. It was as if the two of them held parts of one another’s souls. She carried him with her everywhere she went, but she felt the indescribable loss of him when he’d been taken away from her. So much had changed in the time they had been seperated that she was almost ashamed to tell him.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things since you’ve been gone.” She was a murderer. You could gloss it up and put a nice shiny bow on it, but it wouldn’t stop it from being true. She could describe herself as a rebel, a freedom fighter, a vigilante, but they were all just fancy words for ‘killer’. “I’m not ashamed. I’d do them again, but I’m no longer the sister you knew. There are pieces of me that are… tainted.” Killing people in real life left a stain on the soul, and not just the one that would alert her to the authorities. Both her soul and her SOUL were darkened. “I fought for what I knew to be right, and I’ll face the consequences of it if I must, but I plan on leaving this place before they can make that happen.” If they couldn’t get out, she’d accept it, because at least they would be together. At least she would know she had done everything she could.

She commited his descriptions to memory. Robyn and Ludo and Theon. “He’s already on the list.” She had memorised those files as if they were the back of her hand. Theon from tech could only be one person. “Two extra will be do-able.” The rebels could complain all they wanted. Her loyalty was to Gideon first, the people second, herself third, and the rebellion dead last. “I’ll approach them and put some feelers out. It’s going to take a while to put everything in place.” But as long as they were together, she had all the time in the world.

“Rumours can be based in truth,” she mused, leaning against the wall of the cell and watching the movements of the people around her. From up here, she almost felt like herself. But there still wasn’t enough distance. “I want to meet her. If she meets with all the new in-mates, I imagine I’ll be seeing her soon.” She ruled this place like a King. That meant she could unlock the doors, even if she did so unknowingly.

Gideon hated hearing his sister talk about herself like this. Arguably her biggest supporter, she had to know that he wouldn’t care. Even if he had disappeared for years, she wasn’t only his sister. She was his closest friend, and he wanted to be there for her in whatever way possible. “You know I don’t care what you did,” he said, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder. Nothing could change the fact that she was here, that she had come here for him. Pausing for a moment, he decides to continue. “I…I went to them, you know. They didn’t seek me out. I thought I could make a deal with them, and I met with them. That’s why they took me,” he said, wondering if the new information would help take some of the burden off. Or maybe, it would just push her further away.

At the revelation that Theon was already on her list, Gideon’s brow furrowed. “You said this list is from the rebels?” he asked, still trying to understand. Maybe he knew less about Theon than he thought, but it didn’t change his fondness for the man. He didn’t want to leave Purgatory without him, and if he was on whatever list Juniper kept discussing, it was a good chance they would both make it out. “Do you have a plan already? How long have you been here?” he asked. Always asking questions, always wanting to know more. He wanted to help, but also felt as if the information he has is useless. In the past few years, he tried to keep his head down and stay out of trouble. The guards were ruthless, and one beating from them was enough to know he couldn’t get away with much.

“Yeah, like she drinks the dead inmates’ blood?” he asked with a laugh, his eyes still on her. Even now, minutes after reuniting with him, her eyes were already out the door. He knew she was calculating their escape plan, and knew that he should trust her. Even then, he wasn’t sure how she would manage it. Purgatory was a fortress, and there was nothing on Earth I for them. They’d need a ship, an airtight plan.  “I think they were trying to determine where to put me. I was, uh, a special case. But maybe you’ll meet her soon,” he said with a shrug. There wasn’t much more he wanted to say about his time in the lab, not now at least. He only prayed she didn’t push.

[gideondemarco]

pyrecoren:

“Great. Thanks,” Pyre nearly rolled his eyes. For a moment, he almost forgot about the crew. He almost forgot where he was. The part of him on the edge of tears, ready to either spill all his feelings to the man in front of him or turn and face the walls, almost shrunk to nothing. Almost. “I feel like it too,” though his body seemed to be mostly fine–surprising, considering the events at the gala–nothing about him was okay. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept. Parts of his body felt heavy and numb; he felt as though his heart had been both frozen and set on fire. 

“Pirate?” Pyre couldn’t help the way the word came out, and he looked up at the man across from him, a hint of a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. For the first time, he got a good look at his companion–Gideon. “No, just…” he trailed off. In what way could he explain the crew, their mission, their Benefactor, without sounding insane? “We were hired to… do all kinds of things. Go wherever we were told. Do what to we had to. We…” he scrunched his face, shaking his head. “I’m not supposed to be here.” 

The thought had come to him earlier in the interrogation room as he pled his innocence to those who didn’t listen. Pyre didn’t do what they were saying he did. He wasn’t supposed to be here. None of them were, if any were alive. 

“Alpha. Right. That’s where I was before. They told me this, I’m just…” he trailed off, not thinking he had to explain. It had been a long day. “They could be. I just don’t know. I haven’t seen any of them.” 

The new man looked up at Gideon, a hint of a smile on his lips. If anything, he could serve as a distraction for the man. It wasn’t much, nothing like what Ludo had given him, but he had a feeling Pyre could take care of himself. Maybe not in this state, but he would soon realize that he had to be careful in Purgatory. “Weird,” Gideon said, his brow furrowing. “This dude pay you well? Sounds kind of bossy to me,” he said, wondering if he ever would understand what the man was doing.

“I’m not supposed to be here either,” he said, eyes falling to the ground. He wasn’t about to share his entire life story with the man who had shown up in his cell minutes before, but if that small bit of information helped, maybe it would be worth it. There was a crime fabricated by the corporations; something along the line of stealing company assets. Of course, there was no fighting his sentence. He didn’t have the power to go against what seemed like a large force of nature, and he didn’t even try. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get out, but he had resigned himself to the fact.

“How long have you been here? Purgatory’s a big place. They could be anywhere,” he said with a shrug. Maybe the flippant attitude wasn’t going to help, but it also would do him no good to get worked up about where his crew was. He could drive himself crazy trying to find them, or he could take a step back and try to take care of himself first. “What are they saying you did, anyway?”

[gideondemarco]

ludomire:

When Gideon takes the offered cup Ludo moves towards a chair at the back of the cell, not exactly enjoying the sensation of standing with his back completely exposed to the wide open cell door behind him. He would like to think it’s simply an instinct born out of prison life, where a turned back meant having a blind eye to whatever danger may be laying behind you, but unfortunately his relationship with paranoia went much deeper than just that. Pulling out the chair, Ludo moves it a tad closer to Gideon, the metal legs making a loud screech in protest as they grind against the coarse prison floors. The metal is cool to the touch, much like everything in Purgatory, as Ludo swings his leg over the seat to sit in a reversed position. 

With his newfound sense of security that having his front face the open door gave him, Ludo diverts his attention back to the task at hand. He’d seen Gideon in much worse shape, though that doesn’t stop the nagging feeling of guilt that was starting to creep up on him, even despite the boy’s assurance he was fine. That he was fine Ludo didn’t doubt, whether the kid would admit it or not, he was a hell of a lot tougher than people gave him credit. That still didn’t change the fact it shouldn’t have happened at all though. Taking in the sight of the shiner, Ludo gives a short nod in response, all the while adding ‘go have a chat with Travers’ to his mental to-do list for that day. 

“Don’t tell him that. Who knows, maybe we’ll all get lucky and the thing is malignant,” he smirks, before bringing up his own cup to take a sip. As he sits there he feels a notable ease begin to lower his shoulders, the mixture of the lukewarm dose of caffeine and the present company allowing him to enjoy the moment. “But anyway,” he adds with a clearing of this throat, eyeing Gideon’s shiner curiously as he crosses his arms over the back of the chair, “I see what he’s done to you, but what’d you do to him? Remember, even a haphazard clock to the jaw is better than just takin’ it.” 

After living with Ludo for a month or so, Gideon had picked up on his little habits. They weren’t hard to miss, after all. His need to see everything going on in any room, his inability to ever leave his back exposed; all things Gideon had become used to. So, it didn’t surprise him when Ludo moved to the back of the cell, taking a seat in the metal chair that was rarely used. A few more sips of coffee were taken, and he could tell that the man was looking him over. This happened more when they lived together, the watchful eye seeming to always be on the lookout for another bruise, another person to scare away. However, he was fine. There was no point in pushing the issue, he knew. His face looked bad enough, but hadn’t there been times when he was in worse shape? Broken fingers, bloody noses; Ludo had probably seen it all while they lived together. A black eye was almost nothing.

“We can only hope,” the boy said with a snort at the idea of getting rid of Travers that easily. He takes another sip, the measly attempt at coffee still warming him up enough. He takes a seat on his cot, only a few steps away from the chair Ludo dragged towards him. “Might have broken his nose. It was bleeding when he left,” he said, obviously pleased with the outcome. Sure, his face had looked better, but sometimes things happened. It was a fact of life he was used to in the prison. Ludo couldn’t be by his side at every waking moment of every day; in fact, it seemed as if it had been weeks since they last talked. But even now, the exchange felt comfortable. He almost missed the man’s scowl in his cell every night, though he would never admit it. “You been staying out of trouble at least?” he asked with a small smile, truly curious as to what the other man had been up to.

[gideondemarco]

robyn-kane:

Robyn swiveled the hindmost faucet, letting a whoosh of light brown water soften the cloud of toilet paper in her hand. Steam hissed up from the tap, curling like a cat around the sink’s basin, nuzzling the smell of sulfur all around them. Christ, it blistered. But she’d long since learned not to wince, instead turning the tap off with a smile, willing the tissues to cool before using them to dispel the blood honeycombed on Gideon’s face. A clot on his eyebrow….an efflux trickling warm and gooey from the corner of his lip… “Running his mouth, huh?” Robyn tilted her friend’s chin up, relieved to find no damage under his jaw. Distraction was an art she’d began even before her search and rescue days - a few words cast to conjure memory, an attentive smile to help nudge someone towards speech. Recollection helped curb fear, dull pain, helped. She lifted her wad towards his lip again. “What kind of stuff was he saying?”

Anyone subjected to enough knew rumors could gore deep as any blade. Mouths could close, but the wounds they left would always splay raw and open, and while those lesions could be bandaged by enough kind words, vindication, they could never be healed, never truly. Her free hand drifted towards her shoulder, running the terrain her father’s bullet had upturned on her skin. Gideon had scars too. A synthetic leg, for one, but did he have phantom pains, like her father? Was he plagued by whispers, chimeric chatter, condemnation that curled his body long before his official banishment? And did he know of hers? These were the kinds of questions she wanted to ask, that might bring kinship beyond their shared Crest neighborhood. "I’m glad you’re fine,“ she said instead, reaching her hand out to squeeze his. How long had it been - three months since she’d last seen him? "I was worried - I um…never mind. I’m glad to see you. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Eyes closing as gentle hands wiped his wounds, Gideon knew that he was in good hands. As much as he hated being taken care of, Robyn was somehow still so good at getting him to relax, to take a step back from the situation. This wasn't Robyn’s job, nor had it been when they lived in the same cell. And yet, here she was. Fussing over him as if it would make any difference, if this one instance of kindness would keep him from getting into yet another fight. Honestly, it surprised him that Robyn was unaccustomed to this sight, though it had been a while since they lived together in such close quarters. “Saying shit about how all techs are lazy. He also said I punched like a girl,” he said, the words biting as if he was slinging the insults himself. There was no mistaking his fury when something riled him up, though he knew that he couldn’t stay that angry for too long. Not with Robyn around, anyway. Though it might be foolish, it didn't take much for him to go on defense. As he had Ludo guiding him in his first few weeks, it was no surprise he now reacted with fists first. That didn't change the fact that he hated to see Robyn so worried.

With the touch of her hand, Gideon looked up with a smile. “I'm always fine. You don't have to worry about me,” he said, giving her hand a quick squeeze back. They were empty words; he had never been that seriously hurt while she was around (his first few weeks were a different story), but the possibility was always there. Threats loomed around every corner, and he rarely shied away from them. “What were you worried about, hmm?” he asked, curious eyes trying to read her. He thought it would be easy, but it felt like it had been months since they last saw each other. They worked in separate wings, rarely crossing paths. Except, for some reason, today. “It's been too long, hasn't it? God, forget about me. How are you?” he said, genuinely curious.

[gideondemarco]

juniperdemarco:

He was still curious, so curious. He could be like a dog with a bone, picking and picking at it until it was thoroughly gnawed to his satisfaction, and her secrets would be just the same. They could be things for him to gnaw at. She hadn’t wanted to give him the answers, but he’d get them eventually, so she sighed and acquiesced. “The Rebellion.” Their name tasted bitter on her tongue. She’d loathed them and their methods for years, so messy, so imprecise. If there was one thing that could be said about her sniper rifle, it was that it all but eliminated collatoral damage. Juniper took out who she was aiming for and no-one else. Their explosives couldn’t say the same. “They’re the ones who gave me the list.” It wasn’t written down anywhere. Juniper couldn’t risk it being discovered. She’d commited it to memory, recalling their names like an ancient prayer. She didn’t believe in either old gods or new ones. She barely believed in people. She could only hope these ones would be the exception.

“It’s not your fault,” she insisted, even though she had been through each and every stage of grief, including anger, over the time he’d been gone. “What a sorry state of affairs it is when we let ourselves believe those who are imprisoned and kidnapped against their will are to blame for their punishments… while the kidnappers go free.” They wouldn’t remain free if she had anything to say about it. They wouldn’t even live to see the inside of a prison cell. She’d send them to the grave.

There were already enough people Juniper would have to break out along with Gideon. He was her first priority. If he got out and she had to stay then that would be just fine. She’d consider it at least half a success, although she imagined Gideon wouldn’t feel the same. “We can’t take the whole bloody prison,” she said with a sigh, but in reality she knew she’d do everything she could to save who he wanted. Once upon a time she hadn’t had a problem telling him no. Not anymore. “Tell me about them. I’ll see what I can do.” She could only scoff at the his information about Septima. “Nobody scares me, least of all her.”

“Really?” Gideon said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He couldn’t help but be shocked by the revelation. Though they never talked about it in depth, he was sure that he knew his sister’s stance on the rebellion. They were dangerous, pulled stupid stunts that hurt more than they helped. There was no doubt that they needed to change, but there had to be a better way. “So you’re breaking rebels out?” he asked, though it seemed as if that was the only answer.

“You’re here because of me. You’re in prison, June. Look around. I know that I shouldn’t be here, but you…you have even less of a reason,” he said, his fists clenching ever so slightly. He was angry, not at his sister but at the state of their lives. This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out, not at all. He wasn’t sure that he could share how he was taken, not yet. They had just reunited, and he didn’t want to disappoint her so soon. Though he did wonder what she would say when she realized going to the corporation was his choice, and not saying goodbye was his choice.

To her first statement, he merely laughed. She had a point, yes, but thinking he was friends with more than a handful of inmates was funny to him. “Just three. Though, a mass breakout would make things interesting,” he said with a laugh, nudging his sister in the side. “Robyn. She was my cell mate about a year ago. She just…she cleans, so she could be anywhere on any given day, but she’s like...” he pauses, not wanting to say anything to hurt Juniper. Robyn was the closest thing he had to a sister in the prison, and he held onto any sense of normalcy he could. “She’s important to me. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

“And Ludo. He’s an older guy, he’s been here for a while. But he was my first cell mate. He took care of me when I first got here,” he said with a bit of a smile. He still had a soft spot for the man, no matter how terrifying he tried to make himself seem to the others. “Also Theon. He’s…newer, but we work together in the tech wing. I don’t know why he’s here, but I think…I think he’s like me. I don’t think he should be here either,” he said, though it was merely a guess on Gideon’s part. He couldn’t imagine the quiet man doing anything to land himself in Purgatory, though people had surprised him before. “I try to avoid her at all costs. I met with her when I first arrived, she did the whole intimidation bit, and then sent me away. There’s...rumors about her, but I don’t know anything for sure. They just sound like stories people tell to make this place more interesting, you know?” he said, wishing he could be of more help. 

[gideondemarco]

ludomire:

date: january 6th, 2179

location: gid’s cell

availability: closed to @gideondemarco​

For the majority of Ludo’s stay in Purgatory he kept mostly to himself, never exactly eager to make friends with convicted felons, or pretend like he was content at all with his current situation. One of the few exceptions would be Gideon DeMarco, although Ludo never meant for him to be an exception at all. In the decade he spent rotting within the walls of the prison, he’d seen many like Gideon come and go, all young and puppy-eyed, no idea what they were doing as they are shoved head first into the cesspool that was Purgatory. He had no intentions at all of being a type of look out for the kid, of pulling him in under his wing and actually going out of his way to help him adjust to his new life. But if there was anything Ludo had learned in his forty years, i was things never quite go as expected. Sometimes you get pulled into shit you don’t want to do, and sometimes you decide not to watch some fresh-faced kid, barely into his twenties, get the ever-living crap beat out of him on a daily basis. 

“Hey, kid” is all Ludo says as he stands in the open doorway to Gideon’s cell. There is a sense of unease in his shoulders, and his gaze tends to shift around the room as he stands there, still not very comfortable being the one who seeks someone out. If it weren’t for the fact he felt some responsibility for him, he doubts he’d be there at all, but he despite it all he does. So, when he’d overheard the gossip of a fight in the mess hall involving someone who vaguely sounded like Gideon, he figured it was his duty to at least check up on him. 

“Here, got you this,” Ludo steps into the cell holding out a small tarnished tin cup full of a liquid that somewhat resembled coffee. As he reaches out, his gaze meets Gid’s for a second to take in the state of his face before drifting away again. “That Travers’ work? I told you you gotta quit starin’ at that mole of his,” he adds, the hint of a rare smile slowly making its way across his features. 

As long as Gideon had been in Purgatory, one simple fact remained: Ludo didn’t owe him anything. He was just another prisoner, trying to keep his head above water. Of course, Ludo seemed to do it better than most, but he still was just another prisoner. It just so happened that Gideon was placed in the older man’s cell upon his arrival, which turned out to be his saving grace. Sure, the man was intimidating at first. No words were exchanged between the pair on Gideon’s first night; he honestly wasn’t sure if he would have been able to say anything anyway. Terror had gripped him, as the lab had become familiar. It was sterile and intimidating, but it was as close to home as Gideon could imagine. Purgatory, it seemed, would be a whole other beast.

Ludo seemed to slowly discover that, while Gideon had survived years of being a test subject, he wasn’t exactly ready to be a prisoner just yet. He seemed to come back with new bruises every night, bloody knuckles that kept reopening. He was weak; captivity in a basement would do that to you. But without warning, Ludo seemed to sweep in and take him under his wing. Gideon had slowly realized that he wasn’t one for emotions, and felt as if he had never truly thanked the man for all he had done during his first few weeks. However, Ludo still came by every once in a while to check up on him, always bringing a smile to Gideon’s face, just as he had today. He didn’t expect to become the man’s soft spot, but he often felt calm with the man around. Learning to always be on alert had taken some time, but Ludo seemed to be able to ease some of that burden.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the lukewarm cup into his hands. It was the closest to coffee he’d had in a while, and he knew he couldn’t let it go to waste. The man always seemed uneasy, and Gideon wished he had something more to offer him. There was still much he didn’t know about Ludo’s past; he had taken care of Gideon, but that didn’t mean they swapped stories. “I think it’s grown since last week. He needs to get it checked out or something,” he said with a laugh, a hand running through his hair. “I’m fine, though. Really. Looks worse than it is,” he said, not wanting to cause the man too much worry.

[gideondemarco]

juniperdemarco:

“I was recruited.” It was the only answer she had to give. How could she tell him she had sold her soul in order to set him free? His soul was far more important than her own, and she’d have protected it forever. But she hadn’t been able to. He hadn’t let her. As he showed her the synthetic leg and spoke of their experiments, rage burned in her chest. Her shoulders were hunched and tight as if she were trying to compress herself in order to avoid explosion. Maybe explosion was what those people deserved. But not Gideon. Her anger was a beast of a thing sometimes, but he wasn’t the one it was aimed for. “I’ll kill each and every one of them,” she vowed, and she meant it. But first they had to escape.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she corrected, tone clipped and harsh. “I’m exactly where I need to be.” She couldn’t deny that she belonged here. She’d killed so many people. Juniper felt no guilt for her actions. She was confident they had deserved it, that the ends had justified the means, but that didn’t change the fact that she was a killer among killers. Gideon was something else. A victim.

While she kept him close, she gazed out of the cell, analyzing the rows and rows of cages and the walls that surrounded them. She had studied the plans thoroughly before entry, as one might study the maps during one of her simulated missions. Juniper had prepared herself as much as possible, but Purgatory was sure to be unpredictable, and she had to be ready to bend so she wouldn’t break. “It won’t be just us. My employer gave me a list. I need to get to know them, win their trust… But I also have to deal with Septima. What do you know of her?”

“Recruited by who? What the hell do they have you doing here, June?” Gideon asked. It was obvious by the look on his face that gears were turning in his mind. The entire situation didn't make sense to him, but he knew he should be grateful that she was there at all. With her by his side, he had a proper chance of getting out. It had never been a secret that he placed most of his trust in his sister, the one person who could convince him of anything. He just hoped she knew what she was doing here. Purgatory was its own beast, shadows looming around every corner. He had gotten himself into plenty of trouble, and if Juniper’s only goal was to get out, he was sure she would find herself in the same boat.

The anger in her voice, bubbling to the surface, was something he was used to. Gideon still somehow knew her like the back of his hand, a book with pages he'd read thousands of times. She felt like home, something he never though he would find in the hellhole. “It's my fault, though. That we're both here,” he said, knowing she would protest. The fact, however, remained true. If he hadn't scheduled a meeting with the corporation, Juniper would never have step foot in Purgatory. Neither would he. He was trying to make things better for his family, but he knew he had made them so much worse. “I'm sorry,” he said, though he knew he had apologized already. Gideon had a feeling he wouldn't be able to apologize enough.

“I have...friends here. Colleagues, I guess. I don't want to leave them here if there's a possibility we can get them out too,” he said quickly. Robyn immediately came to mind, his ex-cellmate who deserved to be free. Theon, the tech who didn't exactly seem to belong in such a place. Even Ludo, though he's sure if the man wanted to get out he would have been gone long ago. Maybe it was asking for too much, the idea of adding another three to the party. He just wasn't sure he wanted to leave parts of this life behind. “I...don't know much. She's, uh, terrifying as hell, first off,” he offered, knowing that wouldn't be much help.

[gideondemarco]

pyrecoren:

One look at the man in front of him–Gideon, as he replied–and Pyre’s instincts returned to survival. He attempted to push the crew out of his mind, at least for the conversation and night ahead of him. Tomorrow, he could reflect when he was alone, if he ever got to be. Still, it didn’t make it any easier to sit up straight and look up at Gideon without more tears appearing in his vision, not when the crew was still the only thing on his mind, no matter what he did. 

“It’s been a long week,” Pyre muttered, running his hand over his face and leaning back. There, he paused slightly. Had it been a week? How long had he been in Purgatory? How long ago had they all been at the Benefactor’s mansion? These were questions he should’ve asked. More questions he probably wouldn’t have received answers to me. 

“My crew,” he answered as loud as his voice could carry, mostly succeeding to keep his voice steady. “I think they’re all…gone.” He couldn’t bring himself to say that word that was his greatest fear; something the pessimistic side of him couldn’t help but believe given the situation. Dead. 

The only thing that Gideon hoped at this point was that the man wasn't a crier. He had plenty of cellmates who cried themselves to sleep their first night, sometimes even their first week. Exhausting as it was, Gideon usually felt obliged to help in some way. Just as Ludo had in his first few weeks in Purgatory. The arrival into prison was, most of the time, a shock to the system. And the man sitting in front of him seemed to have gone through a great deal before arriving in their cell.

“Yeah, I can tell. You look like shit,” Gideon said, shifting on his feet. He didn't know what the man needed from him. Would it help if he was left alone, the cell to himself for a few hours? Or did he need someone to sit with him, to listen to whatever sob story would fall from his lips? He had heard plenty of tales, not all true. But they often were a great deal of entertainment, some of the only things he could find to enjoy in the hellhole they called home for now.

“Your crew? You a pirate or something?” he asked, giving the man a once over. Though he seemed shorter than Gideon himself, the man could tell the new arrival would probably pack a punch. “Shit. I'm sorry. You sure they're not in a different cell or something?” he asked, a glance out the cell door the only thing he could offer. “They usually split people up, so they might be...somewhere else. Different wing, maybe. Hell, they might even be in Alpha.”

[gideondemarco]

robyn-kane:

date: january 5th, 2179 location: hallway/restrooms, level beta avaliablity: closed to @gideondemarco

Prison proved a different beast to all who entered. 

To some, it reared its head in a panoptic illusion, corroding the reek of decay through iron breath. It melted privacy the second inmates received their numbers, pulled on uniforms that marked them as less than human, twisted them into the very scales of the dragon that digested them. Human hearts morphed to vessels to sinews to teeth in its stomach, enamel degrading until every bite provoked a violent spasm. And yet, prisoners still chomped. Gnashed. Searched for meat in boneless cages. The beating of fists echoed the refrain of a forgotten organ, something battered yet pure that lingered on in the softness of human touch. “I’m still here,” it seemed to whisper, “dare look into yourself and find me.” But whether or not they answered remained a secret untold by their lips, buried deep beneath their learned guises of monstrosity. 

Robyn returned her equipment to a weary guard. Work had ended for the day, so her mops and buckets nestled themselves back in their closet, snug and warm together until morning. Today, another fight, another coworker lost to Alpha. If she’d been there, she’d have found a way to take the blame, pretend the damage was her own, but instead, failure stung her every step, helplessness a strewn salt on her tongue. Some hero. Her shoulder bumped an inmate as she passed him, gaze shooting up only to flicker warm with recognition. “Gideon.” Her lips quirked upward at the sight of her old bunkmate, though they dropped as soon as they took his face in. His eye…raw and purple as Crest smog, his lower lip… “God, Gid.” She caught his sleeve between her fingers, ushering him towards the bathroom. “Does it hurt? I um… I’ll clean you up, okay? I just…jeez, who did this to you?" 

There was an ache in Gideon’s bones calling for freedom. He was not meant to be caged, but a case could be made for almost any human. They were not made to be kept prisoner, Gideon included. The so-called crime he committed was fabricated, a lie created by the corporation to keep him silent. Unsurprisingly enough, it was successful. Every day in Purgatory wore Gideon down, bit by bit. The lab was bad enough; never knowing when he would be pulled for another experimental run. There was, however, a monotony to prison that seemed to be even more damaging.

He was used to the long days, the terrible food, the miserable prisoners that surrounded him. He didn’t believe that anyone could settle into prison life, but he was trying his best. There were some days, however, that it was impossible to just blend into the background. Sometimes, his days ended with a black eye and a split lip, bloody knuckles draped at his side. Not every day could be that exciting, but then again maybe it was better if it wasn’t.

Robyn had whisked him aside before he even realized who was speaking. His eyes lit up, as Robyn was one of his few former cellmates he didn’t mind seeing in the complex. “I’m fine,” he protested, but that didn’t stop her from practically pushing him into the restrooms. “Some asshole in the mess hall was running his mouth,” Gideon said, letting himself lean against the sink. If there was one thing he learned while living with Robyn, it was to let her do whatever she had set her mind to. Often stubborn himself, Gideon wasn’t in the mood to fight with someone else. “I’m fine, I swear,” he protested again, hoping that it would ease her worry a bit.

[gideondemarco]

juniperdemarco:

He was a disaster. But he was her disaster. Gideon was that wretched genius boy who had thrown himself into the arms of the corporations and become its puppet. Amibition had been his folly, like a child running into the arms of the first person to offer it a lollipop. Juniper was a different kind of disaster, a hurricane that would destroy everyone in her path, including herself. Juniper was no genius. She was simply motivated, her path leading her to her brother no matter who she had to trample over. The rest of the time she was a haze of alcohol, curses and clumsiness, more likely to sleep all day than start a revolution.

Together though… together they could be unstoppable.

“Darling boy, darling idiot,” she said affectionately, sighing as she clasped him close, like a valuable jewel that she was scared someone might steal from her. To Juniper, he was more valuable than any jewel in the world. Hers to protect, ever since he had been a tiny, malnourished baby in her scrawny five year old arms, ever since her father had walked through the front door with him wrapped up in a raincoat. “This place may have stood against countless escape attempts, but it has never stood against us.” With his smarts and her determination, she had to wonder if there was anything they couldn’t do.

“I haven’t been here very long, but I came with knowledge. People we can use.” And people they had to use, from the list the rebellion had given her of people they needed to break out. “We need the right puzzle pieces, like finding the right tools for your little tinkering.” Juniper would gather them. She would just do that later, once she was done reconnecting with her brother.

She finally decided to sit, taking a seat on his bunk and curling her legs under her, encouraging him to join her. “What happened to you? I know it was the corporations that took you away, but…” She shuddered. She was unsure if she wanted the answer. It could be nothing but grim. “You don’t have to tell me,” she finally settled on, leaving the choice to him.

There was so much Gideon wanted to say to her. He wanted to apologize for disappearing early in the morning. If he had any idea of what was going to happen, he would have said goodbye. Or, better yet, he wouldn’t have gone at all. There shouldn’t have been a doubt in his mind that Juniper would keep looking for him, but he was still shocked to see her in his cell. Juniper, of course, seemed to have a plan up her sleeve. It didn’t shock him in the slightest; he had given up hope of getting out. But now, with his sister by his side, things may have started to look up. “I guess you’re right,” he said, a glint in his eyes. The DeMarco siblings were unstoppable when they wanted to be. And this was definitely an instance where they needed to be unstoppable.

“How did you even end up here?” he asked, a hand still gently settled on her arm. He wasn’t sure he could let go, for fear of losing her again. There were so many thoughts swirling through his head, so many plans they could use now that they were together. For some reason, however, he figured Juniper had a better one. There was no way she would have ended up here without a plan, or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

Settling himself on the edge of the bunk, Gideon stared forward at the wall. Of course she was curious about what had happened, and he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to hide it for long. Pulling up one of his pant legs, he revealed a glint of silver. Just enough for her to realize that his leg was now synthetic before dropping the pant leg again. “They, uh, used me in the lab. To test new products,” he managed to get out, eyes glazed over. Purgatory had been his home for years now, but he still hated to think about the time spent underground. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be a prisoner somewhere. What it felt like to be free. “We need to get out of here. You shouldn’t even be here,” he finally murmured, wanting to fill the silence.

[gideondemarco]

theonwyndham:

A shrug moved Theon’s shoulders and his hands landed softly on the table, flat on the smooth surface. He wondered vaguely if the other had been there for a long time today; did it really matter though? Beside, it’s not like he planned on making much friends. Just the day before he had met Alyx again, and that was enough for him. Living with the knowledge that Alyx was alive, and though doing a job well under her intellectual prowess, she was still alive and breathing. So was Raven. And he knew, from Raven’s whispered confession, about Pyre too. He did not need new acquaintances, though he knew rationally that it would probably make his stay here go smoother.

Theon was suddenly tired, and sat, blue eyes following with some kind of disinterest every of the other tech’s moves. “Theon,” he replied politely. Chin in his hand, the engineer thanked the lack of guards on this Tuesday morning. And other workers. No one to eye him, or both of them, with disdain. Theon might have notice how the other guy was not the most popular amongst the others, and wondered distantly if it was because he did not seem to suck up the guards’ asses. Not that he could really blame them, after all, Raven did bargain for Theon’s life so everything would be easier for him. It made him feel weak, and perhaps too young again, but one did whatever they could to survive, he guessed.

“I was merely just suggesting that you could use something else to ease your work.” He shrugged again, suddenly uneasy, eyes darting from the other’s hands to his face. He should have mind his own business but weirdly, he seemed to not be able to resist talking. “I did not intend to be rude, my apologies.” It was, after all, the first guy that talked to Theon in their workspace. And though he knew he was the one who initiated the conversation, it still pleased some kind of weird space in Theon’s mind. He did not need friend, he repeated to himself. He had enough of them.

The only way for him to keep from embarrassing himself further had been to reach for a task, reading through the specifications rapidly, his fingers scrolling through the padd swiftly. Scoffing at the work, he left the other guy’s workstation to install himself at the one next to him, gathering what he needed to complete it. He could not help but glancing sideways to the other guy every other minutes. Well, that was not his fault if he was a bit afraid of explosion after all that happened not even a month ago.

For some reason, the sudden presence of an audience made Gideon slightly nervous. Even if it was just one set of eyes, the man seemed far too interested in his work. Was he another set of eyes for the guards, or was he honestly curious as to what lasers he was using? This was a standard repair, Gideon did plenty each week. But the man who was only around every once in a while seemed to think he knew more than Gideon did. It was curious; after all, he rarely interacted with the other techs and they seemed to be pretty keen on keeping their distance from him as well. They weren’t a welcoming bunch, though Gideon didn’t really expect much from them. He was here to do a job, to prove to the guards that he could stay out of trouble. For the most part.

“Gideon,” he said simply, a response to the other’s name. The exchange seemed impersonal and forced, but he didn’t know what else he could offer. His eyes flickered up to the man for just a moment, wanting to connect a face to the name. It might be useful to have friends in the tech room, as most of his companions in Purgatory were often found doing more of the physical labor around the prison. That had never been Gideon’s forte; a lack of upper body strength kept him out of the department. It didn’t take long for the prison guards to realize that he was good with tools, could repair almost anything electrical if he was given enough time. Good for him, as he was never offered advice. The other techs seemed to keep their distance, having already formed their own group before he came into the rotation. “What should I use, then?” he asked, though he made no movements to stop the use of the laser. It hadn’t failed him in the past.

As quickly as the man had joined him at his workstation, he was gone. Though he hadn’t moved far, it seemed as if he wanted the conversation to end. Gideon, however, didn’t want it to. There was no point in working in complete silence if they didn’t have to. “What are you doing in here, anyway?” he asked, the question spilling from his lips before he could stop it. Whether he meant Purgatory in general or just the tech room was left open to interpretation, but he was curious about the man sitting next to him. He seemed to see him around plenty, and there was no point in awkwardly avoiding each other now.

[gideondemarco]

theonwyndham:

date + time: november 22nd, 08:08AM location: tech wards, level beta, purgatory status: closed, @gideondemarco

They probably thought him daft, pushing him around and ordering him to fix their useless technology. More often than not, his time was consumed with assisting Raven’s in her task. But it must have been written, somewhere in his files, that he was somewhat good with another different set of tools. They divided his daily routine with five days with Raven, and the other two with the other techs. Theon still had to meet them all, but they mostly kept to themselves when he arrived. Eyed him as if he was a stranger; he understood later that they did not trust him. Did not know him. Feared that he would disturb their elegant balance. Theon also soon realized that the work room was fairly less supervised than other places in the prison. Techs were not to be feared, they rarely posed as a threat to others.

With disinterest, he joined in, barely having done anything by the end of his shift. The last thing he wanted was to look at those machines, made to kill and guard, to be used as worthless piece of metal. Imagining how DATA was probably lying dead somewhere in the galaxy, being dissected by unkind humans. Secrets would be out, his code stripped from the main matrix. Incriminating evidence of Theon’s own stupidity, thinking he could make a man out of a machine. He killed him, brought the android with him aboard this stupid mission.

They eventually stopped assigning Theon to android’s repairs when more than one of them had a sharp tool sticking out of their head or exploded without (seemingly) any reason, rendering repairs impossible. The beatings he received afterwards helped him feel something again; the pain he thought he deserved for being a worthless human being. Not even able to protect his own. At least, the pain he could, in some way, control. Not knowing about the state of his …friends. Colleagues. Whatever their lot were. His desire for knowledge had always brought him trouble, now it was slowly driving him mad. The only certainty was in the blood tainting the floor and the muffled sounds of kicks in his ribs.

Raven had patched him up without a word when he came back to their cell, and Theon knew he let her down too. She did not sacrifice so much for him to come back in this state. Well, he never promised her he was a good person either, deserving of her attentions.

Being separated from the other techs meant that whenever he saw them used a wrong tool, or connecting wrong circuits together, he couldn’t say a word. Though his desire for perfection, especially in the workplace was always lingering in the back of his mind, it had dimmed a great deal and his own work felt sloppy. He did not care much anymore but he still could spot idiots. They put him on computer work for a while, coding some mindless security protocols for the droids. Something 10-years-old-him could have done in his sleep.

Years ago, work had meant something more. Gave him a purpose after Eliot’s death. Now, work meant that he could push down whatever feelings he had and keep his head as blank as possible. Theon was immensely bored and the only thing keeping him from ending it all was his fear of leaving Raven alone.

When entered the room that morning, none of the usual techs were there, only a guy he thought was called Jeon, or Ridelon, something like that. None of them had properly introduce himself to him yet, and Theon had never been known to be outwardly sociable. He wasn’t about to start in this goddamn prison. He was working on something, tinkering with pieces of metal. Theon approached, interest piqued. Making sure to stay on the other side of the table, in case this thing exploded, he observed with attention. After awhile, a simple question couldn’t stop escaping his chapped lips. “Are you certain you’re using the right laser for that?”

Gideon learned, soon after he had been given his role in the technical side of the prison, that there was even a hierarchy among the techs. He remained the lowest of the low as he fiddled with parts of androids, panels on the walls, anything that needed to be fixed. There were those that the prison brought in, people that weren’t imprisoned working on the most important parts of Purgatory. There were inmates who had been there for years, who were trusted with more tools and more responsibilities. And then there was him. This type of technical work wasn’t what he was best at, but he could make do. There were similarities in all of the systems; he could even fix the locking mechanisms on the cells when necessary. It only had been once, when the other techs had the day off and a riot was close to breaking out. They didn’t often have the inmates working within the cell blocks, instead focusing his skills on the computers used to track inmate history. It was dull, mind-numbing work, the type that he promised himself he would never succumb to. Now, he had no choice. He was almost positive there was no way out of Purgatory; a failed attempt in his first year proved that. He had never been seen as a threat, so he was never moved to Level Alpha. Instead, he kept toiling away in the tech room, wishing he could be doing something else.

After what seemed like ages, a new tech seemed to have appeared. He saw the man rarely, once a week at most. He never heard him speak, though that didn’t mean much. Gideon rarely spoke to the other techs himself, preferring to keep to himself in fear that they would try to find him a different role if he became too close to the others. There was something about the bonds between inmates that frightened guards, and though the techs seemed to at least be friendly towards each other, Gideon didn’t want to make any more mistakes. He didn’t know how well he would fair in solitary confinement, and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

The new tech, however, intrigued him. He had heard whispers from the other techs of his work with the droids, of how you would receive a beating if you even so much as thought about ruining another piece of Purgatory equipment. Gideon himself had never considered it; the thought of being taken somewhere worse than Purgatory always on his mind. Part of him had believed that nothing could be worse than the lab that had been his home for years, but Purgatory was proving to be that and more. It held horrors of its own, an unfair prison structure that seemed to never improve. He had seen plenty of people who didn’t deserve to be imprisoned, though he was unsure if he deserved to be there either. The lines had become fuzzy, but it didn’t matter. He was positive he wasn’t getting out.

There was no reason for the man to approach him, but as soon as he saw what Gideon was doing, he could tell the other tech was coming over to his workstation. Without looking up, he said yes. A simple response, the word biting. Who was this guy to question his techniques, when he hadn’t seen the man touch a single tool all day? “I’ve done this plenty of times before. It’ll be fine,” he said, picking up another piece before glancing up at the man. “Who are you, anyway?”

[gideondemarco]

juniperdemarco:

Some things hadn’t changed. He was still covered in engine grease and electric burns, his hands and arms still covered in callouses and small scratches where he’d snagged them on small metal parts. His hair was longer now, messier, and his beard had grown in more fully. She imagined shaving and haircuts weren’t the highest priority in prison.

He was always questioning, even now. Why was she here? That was the easiest question she’d ever had to answer. “For you,” she said, lifting a hand to brush back his hair. She wanted to cry, but Juniper didn’t cry any more. Their mother shed enough tears for both of them. Even the desire made her irritated at herself, and by extension, irritated with him. She remembered all the nights she’d had to comfort their parents. She would fight a war for him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be angry about it sometimes.

“You’re so bloody stupid. So bloody clever, but so stupid.” She smacked the back of his head, not hard, but not playfully, the sort of warning smack a dog would give her pups. But anger didn’t last. It couldn’t. Before she knew it, she was hugging him again, squeezing her eyes shut to stop herself from crying at his apology.

“Shh, we’re together now. I would rather face hell with you than face the heavens alone.” She looked around, checking for eavesdroppers, and once she was satisfied there were none, she whispered; “I’m getting you out of here.”

Part of him wasn’t surprised that Juniper was standing right in front of him. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she had stopped trying to find him, and there never had been. There was no denying, however, that he looked different now. Perhaps it was the fact that she looked hardened by sights she hadn’t needed to see, the direct result of his disappearance years ago. It was his fault that she was here, locked up just like him. They were back in the same place, but at what cost?

“I know,” he said, laughing at the gentle slap to the head. It was affectionate, that much he could tell. He had missed everything about her, from the scolding tone to the sparkle in her eyes when they finally saw each other. Even though he had no right to feel that way in prison of all places, Juniper brought him a certain sense of peace. Her arms wrapped around him again, and he clung to her. There was nowhere else he could disappear to, but it still felt as if she could slip through his fingers at any time.

“June,” he murmured softly, the promise leaving her lips seeming too good to be true. “I’ve tried. I…I don’t think we can.” He didn’t know how long she had been here, how much she knew about the prison, but it was one of the most secure in the galaxy. Even he had to admit his sister was good, but not that good. “I just…I can’t believe you’re here.”