These words I've shared

[thepull_mods]

Who: Open Log for all those who let themselves get taken in.
When: September 1st, 1918 and September 2nd, 1918.
Where: Undisclosed barracks at the Missionworth Military Base
Summary: The Military wants answers, and they're hoping you can help give them. Also, there are at least temporary beds. Try and sleep off that hangover.
Warnings: Interrogations will only go as badly as expected.

Though the newcomers haven't been treated as an overall threat, they have been taken to their new location as quickly as possible, and under fairly heavy guard.

Those guarding the newcomers vary between overly interested, and incredibly wary. Some seem to barely be able to hold back asking questions, and some clearly expecting a fight at any moment.

Needless to say, the tension is a bit high.

The newcomers who came quietly (Or at all) are held for the meantime in an empty barracks, bunk beds lining the walls and a bathroom off one end of the hall.

Periodically, a guard will come by and request for someone to follow them to be questioned.

It's likely a good idea to follow. 

Comments

The Barracks

[thepull_mods]

[Mingling in the barracks! A good time to catch up and share information. Or to sleep. That too.

It is relatively safe, after all.]

The Barracks

[ella_of_frell]

[ Sleep was not something Ella was going to get that evening. Her mood isn't the greatest either, but being told to "stay put" didn't fill her with a great deal of confidence in leaving anytime soon. So she sat on one of the bunkbeds, resting her chin on her hand, waiting patiently because...well, not like she was going to be able to go anywhere else right? Right. Occasionally she looked up when new people were brought back from interrogation or into the cell, anxious. ]

[gaveherwings]

[Daedalus Yumeno had spent the last two and half years playing immigrant. In Siren's Port, despite all stigmas, he very nearly had been granted all the privileges and rights of a natural born citizen.

And general compliance and obsequiousness to the proper authorities had often served him well in gaining that sort of access.

So despite his anniversary being absolutely ruined, he'd come quietly with Franz and hoped that all would be well if they were cooperative and civil. Being a doctor was useful, and often welcomed anywhere, after all.

So he waited in the barracks and rose early to peer out between the high windows, open to the air. Darkness decay effect...apparently wasn't a problem, here. And that was very curious indeed.]

Perhaps... through some manner of complicated magic or understanding of how we came, someone has finally succeeded in banishing us all? It would have been too considerate, I suppose, to give us a little fair warning.

[He finally ventures wryly aloud, from a top bunk too narrow to share with his boyfriend- and in close quarters with so many others they probably wouldn't anyway, if the cots could afford it.]

Re: The Barracks

[makeflowersgrow]

"Madame?"

[Eponine hesitated to go over to Ella, especially considering how they had parted last time. She herself didn't mind being locked up; she didn't like it, but it was a situation she had at least experienced before now. But perhaps..., well, in Eponine's mind, she didn't even consider that Ella would ever have been in jail.
She went over to her though, and sat on the floor in front of Ella.]

"It will be okay, you know? They won't hurt us - they hardly ever do, you know."

[ofthursday]

[It's a little amazing how small Castiel can make himself look when he chooses to, considering he's nearly six feet tall, and he's sitting on his temporary bed and doing his best to meld with the corner of the wall it's against. Knees drawn up against his chest and watching everyone warily, he's completely silent and might be mistaken for being stoically calm, if it weren't for that his hands are shaking slightly.

All of this is more than a little stressful for someone with less than a month's worth of memories.]

[tea_lover64]

[Iroh sat on the floor his legs crossed, breathing calmly in and out. He hadn't offered too much resistance, he didn't feel it was necessary. The people here seemed equally confused as to why he was here. It was better to go along peacefully then to start unnecessary conflict]

nearby cell

[fitofgrandair]

Grantaire woke up slowly, head throbbing, and found himself stretched across a disagreeably hard bed. Beyond that, he at first could not say. He had been--Wait. Had he ever been in that field? Must have. He held a memory of being torn from a too-quiet night in his room and thrown into a squash field. Feeling as if he had been transplanted again, and perhaps without Enjolras. Then had come a pack of armed men, all bristling and commands, demanding that he follow them.

Follow the armed men? Grantaire might not have actively fought in Paris, but he sure as hell hadn't come all this way to be bullied by soldiers. They had no claim to him, and he had no intention of facing confinement or--lord help him--forced labor.

So he'd resisted. By hurling a squash at one soldier, by taking a swing at another's face, by kicking out, by he couldn't remember just what else. Then everything had gone dark, and... Here he was. All alone, in a small room. "Or a small cell." At least he could speak; that had to count for something. And maybe he wasn't entirely alone; from somewhere nearby, indistinct voices drifted in.

What he wanted to know was where he was and how he was going to find his way out. Slowly, Grantaire raised himself to a sitting position, gingerly touching a large sore spot on the back of his head. "Damnit! My... god what a wonderful day." Fantastic. Leave it to soldiers to knock a man out and leave him to rot. Wasn't this just wonderful.

"Hello." No response. He raised his voice and continued on, drowning out his irritation and the pain in his head with words. "Good morning, good afternoon, good evening? ...Nothing? It seems awfully ill-mannered to lock a man up and leave him to awaken alone, in pain, and with a great thirst. Have you any wine? Is there any you? I ask merely out of curiosity, for I've no desire to see your face. And you'd best be warned that I am armed with my, er, arms, and that I am no friend of soldiers, nor of those who batter the back of my head. What, have I come across worlds simply to be tossed into a cell, without ceremony and without answers? Have I died in truth, now, and is this to be my after-living, my penance for a life of drunkenness? Ah dear, I fear that you do not exist, my jailer! I fear I speak to empty air! But no matter, for speak on I shall, whether you exist or not; after all, I must keep myself entertained, must I not?"

He could and would go on for a while.

The Barracks

[ibreakrules]

[So far things had been relatively quiet. Or at least Frau hadn't seen anything that gave him reason to cause more trouble. Either because he needed to or just for the fun of it. Sitting and watching was fine, and so far none of the guards had given him shit.

Nobody had really questioned him yet either. Whether that was because he was obviously from a church and they wanted to bring them in or couldn't figure out what to do with him or because he didn't seem that dangerous now Frau didn't know. In the end though, it didn't much matter. It wasn't the first time he'd lounged around in a prison cell.]

[moveslikestrider]

[They had lead him in quietly, the soldiers around him had no idea what he could do. Dave wanted to keep it that way and walked seemingly uncaring between them. If they pushed a little too hard and warily watched him well that was their problem.

He'd come in peacefully and when they indicated the beds he went and sat by one, on the floor. Naturally it was his choice so they left him alone. Dave waited until they were gone to equip his red suit, which replaced the black one with one simple little shift in appearance. Because screwing with the guards in a passive way was still in the cards.]

The Barracks

[bestseller]

He drank last night. Probably a little more than he should've and it was probably a bad idea. No, scratch that, it was a bad idea. A horrible idea. Because now, not only has Alan woken with a hangover in Frontier land, he's soon whisked away by men in uniforms obviously not of this century and thrown into some kind of holding cell.

And he's not alone.

While this isn't entirely comforting, it's good to know he's not the only one who got forced to play prisoner in this reenactment. But he needed an aspirin, or at least some kind of miracle hangover cure and he wasn't going to get it here. And even though sleep was his best remedy, there was no way Alan was going to get that. Besides the hard, cold cot of where he lay, the uncertainty of his entrapment was weighing heavy on his mind.

And fortunately this isn't the first time he'd found himself feeling the effects of drinking and being held in a cell roughly after.

[circumsutus]

[Stein isn't the kind of person who can easily hide. The screw through his head is both very odd and instantly recognizable.

So he's just going to flop down on a bed and nap.]

[summing_it_up]

[Because being separated from his girlfriend and his dragon is not cool. Neither is finding out that the rest of the Teen Titans are also in the same predicament. Although knowing the latter exists is a comfort, it also is a bad thing. Because that means they're all in this weird place. Noticing the power limit on his titan communicator also added to his new-found level of concern.

So of course the army's appearance and round up makes everything even better.

At least it's better than being in a room with no windows. Hiccup sighs, leaning forward in his bunk, hugging his knees.]

None of this is making any sense...

The Interrogation Room

[thepull_mods]

[If you are taken to be questioned you are taken down a long hall to a poorly lit room with a metal table and two chairs. It's hard to see the person on the other side of the table, and the guards who came with you stay at the door. Just in case.

People are brought in one by one.]

[hostage]

[Jesse goes quietly, knowing he's out-powered and out-armed but mostly just interested in obtaining some level of comfort here and knowing that the best way to do that is to get on everyone's good side. He's normally hostile to authority-types, but he's been polite and even friendly while dealing with the natives here. He cracks a few lighthearted jokes with the guards leading him in an attempt to get them to smile, too. And once he's in the room, he sits down and folds his hands and waits for his turn to talk.]

[ofthursday]

[He's totally quiet when he's called to go with the guards, tentatively following them without any sort of resistance, attention partially distracted from the situation itself by that the world seems to be flickering from normal into hyperactive; senses intensifying, colors going brighter, sounds sharper and clearer, almost like his surroundings are laying themselves out in a display for him to consider. It's happened a few times, before, and he's sure it has to do with what he is--an angel, he's been told--but he can't control it and right now it's just distracting even while it might be potentially useful.

Hopefully he won't annoy the interrogator too badly with both his distraction and the fact that almost all questions are going to get a genuine 'I don't know' in response.]

[therightchoice]

[ Jesse has a bad feeling about this. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what to say.

He wants Bruce back so much.

Sitting down, he looks down at his hands, the tapping of his fingers on the table looking like the most interesting thing in the world. He waits for the other people to asking questions. ]

[capax_infiniti]

[There's no better way to get answers than to appear cooperative. And cooperative he is, to a fault... after all, someone as old as he has little point in resisting.

He'll play the game as long as he gets what he needs in the end. He sits and waits patiently, running a few possibilities through his mind though he knows better than to expect too much in advance with this.]

AN IMPROVISED HOLDING CELL

[maddeninghatter]

[ Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong things said to the military.

Well. It wasn't his fault. Being unceremoniously pulled out of bed and thrown face-first into an enormous squash is enough to put anyone out of sorts.

He had been (and still is) in his pajamas. This doesn't bother him nearly so much as being separated from his sword. Indeed, compared to that, the shackles about his wrists and ankles are a minor irritant.

Worse than losing his sword, however, is not knowing the fates of any of his fr--acquaintances and associates. Is Oz all right? What of that idiotic hero, Allen? Yosuke -- well, he's probably been sick all over somebody's property. Doctor Stein, doubtless, has landed on his feet. Ahiru and Nana - hopefully someone is looking after them.

And Gilbert. Where is he? It's pointless to worry, but... ]

[retraced]

[Where is Gilbert, you ask?

Well Break, you're about to find out.

Because thanks to their brilliant plan (Oz's brilliant plan) he's about to break you out of here! It had been simple, really, a leftover idea from home: if you want to blend in, you have to look the part! It only took borrowing a military uniform (read: knocking a guy out and stealing his uniform, leaving him nude out in a storage shed outside) and a bit of clever acting on Gilbert and Oz's parts to get inside the facility. Anyone who they haven't found by now, they're assuming is being held inside this place, Break being one of their top priorities.

Gilbert, admittedly, looks a little silly and completely out of place in his borrowed uniform, but Oz is doing an excellent job playing the part of the angry newcomer as they push their way inside and through the building.]

This fabric itches...

[He mumbles under his breath as he shoves Oz (gently!) down the hall towards the holding cells.]

Guard duty- night (open)

[infromthecold]

[He was telling himself his misspent youth as an army brat at Camp Lehigh was that made sneaking onto the Missionworth Military Base had been easy despite the state of high alert. With gloves to cover his hands and a borrowed uniform he was just another soldier. Finding someone who'd been assigned newcomer guard duty and offering to switch had been a bit trickier but manageable. Now he just had to hope no one decided to blow him up when they decided they'd had it with the accommodations]

nighttime, prowling

[magnetic_magpie]

[People he knew accounted for, Magneto had taken to prowling the barracks, looking for weak spots to exploit, for places to smuggle things in and out, as well as people.

His footfalls make no sound, his movements are purposeful and planned, white hair covered in hat, face smudged with dirt to better hide.]

Catch-All thread for note passing, both inside and outside!

[theshortestbird]

[Tim had been taken in quietly. From his experience with the military (and with police, and with child protective services, and other such annoyances), it was always best to just do what they wanted, and pick your battles wisely. Being taken in was not worth fighting about. What better way to learn about what's going on then by being right in the middle of it all? They all needed some more information, and this was one of the better places to get it.

But how to get the information to the outside? There were plenty of people here, but Tim knew you couldn't really trust the people who had already been here for years. It was, unfortunately, going to be a matter of only trusting the people who just arrived, versus the ones who were here. Maybe this was how the prejudice against newcomers really began. Slow and steady.

In any case, Tim was glad that he had his notepad stashed in his pockets. As he learned more, he took notes. Little pieces of paper could be easily passed around in this place, and then, hopefully, get outside. He could be found, if not in his barrack, sneaking around as much as he could.]

[pullsheavendown]

[Going along to jail was the last thing Roxas had wanted to do, but at the time, he hadn't had a better plan. He could fight his way out, sure, but what then? He knew where they were, and when, but not why. And not what to do next.

And just because he was cooperative didn't mean he couldn't learn more about what was happening. Being locked up didn't mean no information would get to them, and locks didn't mean they were trapped. Not with the Keyblade.

Inside the barracks, he spotted Tim and only hesitated for a moment before approaching him. He might not know him well, but Tim was a friend, and more importantly, he was someone who generally knew what he was doing.]

Hey.

Back Dated -- Prue and Chris rescue Snow (night of September 2st, 1918)

[charmedson]

[Chris and Pure had escaped right away. His orbing ability still worked here, so it was easy for him to find her and take her away. Ever since that moment though in the field that would become the baseball diamond, he had been plagued with guilt.

Snow White had been taken, and hauled off to the prison to be locked up in a cell. He had promised her that she would never be locked up again as long as he was around and he had failed her. He told Prue as much, managing to barely control the emotion filtering through in his voice when he insisted they had to go save her. It had been so easy to convince her, because like him she did better when there were things to do, actions to take.

A part of him had wanted to charge in guns blazing, but a day was needed to gather information about the prison until he had a better idea of what they would be doing. Then it was a matter of orbing in when people were supposed to be sleeping, taking advantage of what they had learned.

A chime and some white and they were in a hallway just a bit away from the cell they were keeping Snow in. He knew there would be other people they'd want to recuse, but his priority right now was Snow White.]

[towerlocked]

[she could almost hear the huntsman scolding her for being such easy prey. And in truth she's scolding herself, because she should have been better prepared. She tried to fight but in the end it didn't even matter because she was still caught.

She was still here, in a dark cold place not so different from her tower. The cold prison bars were all too familiar to her touch. She isn't alone this time, but she still feels that dark loneliness.

This time she still has the knife the huntsman gave her. As a weapon it didn't do her justice, but perhaps she could pick the lock... She had to try, because she knew Chris was probably worrying himself sick about her welfare]