#thread: gideon

[hasan-demir]

For: @drrutherford​

When: After Party Where: The yacht Hasan approached Gideon when he was able to find him taking a moment for himself.  Putting a hand on the man’s shoulder surprising him with his blackened eye. “Congratulations to the most successful man of the year.  How have you been enjoying the party, your sister is throwing a good one.  As you can see I’ve been enjoying the festivities fully myself. I really do keep running into you after being assaulted by irate women don’t I?  Perhaps you can help me with that, what do you know about Melissa Lin?“ Despite the wound Hasan seemed to be in high spirits.

[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?" 

[ludomalatesta]

CLOSED STARTER: @gideonhayes​​ LOCATION: gideon’s place » ask meme

“What an excellent day for an exorcism,” Ludo remarked, pulling a face in the direction of Gideon’s front door. The woman outside had arrived shortly after Ludo did, and she’d been pounding and yelling obscenities in an attempt to get Gideon to open the door ever since. “Really, she sounds like she’s going through it – maybe you should just toss her a bag and be done with it.” 

She sat down and dug through her purse, attempting to tune out the din of the customer outside. “Anyway, I need a re-up on the usuals. As much as you’re willing to sell me, honestly.” A large stack of cash was removed from her wallet, and she handed it over to him without even counting it. “Whatever that will get me. Don’t be afraid to be generous.”

[robyn-kane]

date & time: 10:07pm, january 31st, 2179 location: gideon’s room, ssv cygnus availability: closed to @gideondemarco

Nights alone were foreign as dust from untrekked planets. Even in Crest, the whistle of her dad’s snores had broken the shouts and screams from upstairs neighbors, factory husks who reanimated once neon signs had cast out ink. The rattle of wind against windows, swaying apartment Piles, their dull groans. Rain tap tapping against awnings. Hoots and howls from jostling youth below, who smashed bottles against concrete, getting a rise out of strewing bitter liquid all around. The reek of alcohol and stale urine. Signs of life.

Here, she could very much be in limbo. Left alone to a bed that was actually a bed, a room that was actually a room…soft sheets and silence set her hairs up more than any crowded, concrete cell. The sound of carefully chosen prison ambiance sputtering from her armlet did little to calm her, no, her heart beat staccato as notes from her kazoo. Back in Purgatory… She rolled from bed, pulling her briefs up. Maybe her old cellmate would still be willing to hold her hand.

“Gideon?” Robyn tiptoed across the hallway to his door, knocking quietly. “It’s me, Robyn, I, uh, couldn’t sleep.”