Who Plays Nice? {not us} -Lyss-

[Spesh]

Merlot Pinot Noir

Actions/Thoughts: 5b419c
Speaking: 8745a8


It had been a long time since Merlot was in the Detention Center to interrogate someone. For some reason there was a lack of crime in the Districts, Merlot was even able to relax back in his home for a little bit. It could have been that alliance in the games, the one that caused all that carnage on practically every other tribute. The other possibility was that the Peacekeeping corps had gotten lazy. He figured that bit was more likely. In fact, ever since the spies had saw the slight amount of rebels turn away, they had been on green alert. He figured that his superiors were right, there was absolutely no reason to think that there would be any attacks. Clearly the Capitol was going to be just fine, and Merlot would be able to continue getting his supply of wine.

Where the wine came from, he had no clue of. The Peacekeeper had heard that there were people who grew grapes for wine in the Capitol, he had tried some and it was pretty good. That wine was not abundant though, as the trains from the Capitol to District Twelve were always minimal. He had to have a special connection with somebody high up in the ranks of District Eleven, as the mass amount of wine there was not quite good. And he did.

Because of many factors, Merlot was actually enjoying his life in District Twelve. The people who lived in the District had a certain charm about them, and he was starting to take a liking towards them. On that point, he was actually quite sad when they asked him back to the Detention Center to do an interrogation. There were people there who actually enjoyed life for what it was, not any messed up reasons. He, on the other hand, just wanted to drink wine. That was one of the reasons he hated coming to the Detention Center. While at the Center, the powers that be closely monitored how much wine he was allowed to have. A rather annoying factor in Merlot's day. Hopefully he would only be in the windowless building for this one interrogation, but one never really knew why they chose one specific Peacekeeper to interrogate.

There were other reasons to why Merlot hated where he was. Just a few years ago he was made into a fool by someone he was interrogating, in the exact same room too. The memory brought back terrible feelings, even after the the girl was a tribute and died in the Games. Back when he did that interrogation, he was a rather new Peacekeeper, he now was more experienced, less likely to screw up so awfully. No matter his experience, Merlot always felt that the one failed interrogation would always be a chip on his shoulder, that he would always have to overcome it. Chances are, they were bringing him back to see if he actually became a better interrogator, though he had no clue how he could have improved without practice.

This time Merlot had to deal with a guy, and for some reason he would not have to cut out his tongue. The blood that normally came with cutting out tongues was too much for Merlot. It looked like wine, but it was from inside a human. Not fun at all to deal with. This teenage boy he had to deal with was somewhat an easy case. he ran away from home and then, oddly enough, decided to trespass on Capitol territory. Merlot would have to do the normal stuff, ask, assume, beat. He has his orders, he had to strictly follow them and do nothing more. The orders were always the hard part, but he mades sure he would follow them this time.

"Bring him in," the Peacekeeper said. The room was nothing special, but it had quite a few ways to keep people down. Merlot figured he would use a restraint that allowed the prisoner to be standing with no wall on any of their sides. He was not looking forward to this, but he had no choice. All he could think was and now it begins.

[/size][/justify][/blockquote]

[lyss]

Rowan Springer
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Take a breath, I close my eyes
I am lost but tryin to find
What it is in life that gives me strength enough
To fight for something more
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

[/color][/center]

Rowan had been moved around so much lately. He had been sitting in his cell, slitting his wrists open and listening to his cellmate scream insanities about the Capitol, when another man came and practically dragegd him down the long and winding hall to a different room. He could tell the room would be for questioning the second the door was kicked open. He was thrown into a chair with shackles. The man tried to removed Rowan's cuffs, but he protested, folding his arms behind his head.

"Please, leave them. They help me. I can assure you that I won't try to maul anybody."

Rowan nodded to the other man in the room, whom he had just noticed. The guard who had brought him here looked over at the other man, asking for help with his eyes.

"Anyways, he can put the shackles on me if he needs to, right?"

The guard slightly nods and reluctantly removes the key. Rowan turned his head, watching the guard slip out of the room. Once the door was sealed shut, it was just Rowan and this man. At least, he hoped it was just them. He took in his surroundings, noting that a sheet of glass lay to his left. He glanced at the man, trying to get an idea of how this game between them would be going. Who would be the top dog in the end?

Right now, it was hard to tell. Neither of them spoke a word, causing the room to tumble into silence. Rowan looked down at his wrists, wrapped in silver. The blood had stopped trickling out of his veins; all of it had dried. He tugged at the cuffs again, reopening fresh wounds that had just barely closed up. The blood spilled down his wrists, snaking up and down his arms. He stopped quickly, though, remembering he was here to answer questions. Well, maybe not just answer them, maybe he could ask them as well.

"So why am I here?"

Rowan had broken the silence with a question. A stupid question, but a question nonetheless. He wanted to see if this man knew though. Maybe they had just shipped in some random PK and expected him to wriggle the offense out of him and then work his way from there with some questions. He doubted the possibility, but for the past few days, he had been clinging to a thin strand of hope.

He pulled his legs close to him, wrapping his pale arms around his covered legs. He wondered how quickly this would go. Would he be turned into an Avox? Maybe he would, considering he was being interrogated. If he turned in some secrets about his cellmate, he could possibly get out unscathed. Maybe it would be the best thing for everybody if he did. His cellmate had seemed like a complete psychopath.

"Okay, so I do know why I'm here. I didn't anything wrong, really. Well, sort of. It's not as bad as my cellmate. I'm not sure what he did, but when I was in the cell he was screaming terrible things about the Capitol. I doubt you'll do anything though, right? You have no proof. For all you know, I'm lying. Anyways, we both know why I'm here. Let's just go ahead and start. I can tell you want this to be over with just as quickly as I do."

He pulled his legs tighter to his chest, ready for the questions to be thrown at him. He hoped this man wouldn't accuse him of anything that he didn't do. He had heard of things like this happening from some people of Seven that barely made it back alive from the DC.

"Listen, I won't lie to you as long as you don't like to me, okay? I'll give you all the information you want, as long as you don't feed me lies. Let's start with our names. You probably already know mine, but I'll tell you anyways. It's Rowan. Rowan Springer."

Rowan knew he should be slapped in the face right now. He hadn't planned on getting a bit of attitude with this man, but maybe it would help him. It would show the man that Rowan wouldn't just sit there and do only what he was required.

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Well God knows my feet are aching
And I've got mountains ahead to climb
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

[/color][/center]

[Spesh]

Merlot Pinot Noir

Actions/Thoughts: 5b419c
Speaking: 8745a8


Tired yet wide-awake, that was the only way Merlot could describe how he felt. He was tired in the sense that he had not been getting enough sleep every since he came back to the detention center, yet he was wide-awake because he knew he had to perform in these next few hours. No matter the reasons behind each feeling, the feelings were an odd combination, an oxymoron. He wanted to laugh at the thought, but he knew he could not. Laughing was not an option during interrogations, well, unless it was at the pain of the person being interrogated. Merlot left that to the Peacekeepers who were sick in the mind, he would not stoop down to that level, not yet at least.

The interrogation would be awful, as there surely was going to be blood and pain. Not any pain on Merlot's part, except maybe the pain of not having wine. When he was even slightly tipsy, these interrogations were much easier. He never felt any feeling towards these so-called criminals while he was tipsy, never felt their pain. All he could feel was the small amount of alcohol coursing through his veins. Obviously, he preferred this feeling to the one of pain and sorrow, he doubted anyone but a masochist would rather the pain.

Not that he wanted this to be how it was, but he knew he had no choice. Whether the Peacekeeper agreed with the laws or not, they were the laws, and this young lad had broken them. The worst part was, the young man knew that he had broken the laws when he did so, Merlot hated that. It was one thing to break laws out of ignorance, he tolerated that surely, but when one broke laws for the sake of breaking them, he was annoyed. There was the saying 'laws are made to be broken," but in this country of Panem, that was simply not the case. Laws were meant to be followed, and followed they would be. if not, everyone knew what was coming for them.

Instead of just standing their quietly, the boy had started to talk. The talk was of honesty and a bunch of other crap that Merlot need not listen to. The teen was negotiating as if he had a position of power, he did not. Merlot just stood there, uninterested and bewildered. Why this boy would try to do this made no sense, but Merlot would not allow himself to get confused, that would be his demise. He just tuned out the kid until he finished speaking.

Instead of answering he stood the boy up, undid any shackles he had on before putting his legs in the standing one. Merlot's face showed nothing, though he did feel the slightest remorse for this kid. There was a fire and hot coals in the room, but there was also a lighter and cigarettes. The Peacekeeper knew he would turn to those first. "Don't resist, I'm not here to rape you, I'm just taking off your shirt, don't want it ruined." Taking the boys arms, he pulled them to the cuffs dangling from the ceiling. Not a comfortable position, but it would do well for Merlot in this interrogation. He had his ideas set, no matter how terrible they were.

"Listen, son, you are not in a position of power here, don't act like you're in one. It makes you look like an ass. You understand me?" Noir did not wait for the boy to nod or speak, he only carried on. First, he went over to the coals and lit a fire underneath them. Inside the fire there was something he could not quite remember the name of, but it was made for moving coals. There were also gloves on the table, gloves to keep out the heat. Looks like this interrogation would truthfully be awful.

While to coals were heating, he turned to the packs of cigarettes, cigars, and the likes with his lighter. He would start small and go bigger as the interrogation went on. All he had to do was break the kid, and he hoped he would not have to do too much. He took out a cigarette and lit it. "Look, I know what you did, Springer. You ran away, a big no-no, and you trespassed on Capitol territory, another stupid idea. That would normally get you avoxed, but the head of this place was feeling nice, so you wont have that happen. I assume you have something to do with the rebellion, so you best spit it out, but you wont make it that easy, I know it. See this," Merlot put the cigarette close to Rowan's face, "I don't smoke, and I'm sure you know fire hurts like hell and burns. Just a warning, you'll probably scream."

Merlot seemed calm, surprising himself. He continued this facade as he put out the cigarette on the kids upper back, even though he hated to do so. He was off to a good start, that was for sure.

[/size][/justify][/blockquote]

[lyss]

Rowan Springer
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
One way at a time
I will try to lend these broken hands of mine
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

[/color][/center]

Rowan finally realized how screwed he was when he was being moved to standing shackles. The only thing keeping him sane was removed from his wrists. They were the shackles that would now contain his wrists wouldn't be the same as the cuffs that slit his wrists over and over. The PK began to raise Rowan's shirt, and he was now worried. His suspicions were cleared away, though, with the PK's words.

"Don't resist, I'm not here to rape you, I'm just taking off your shirt, don't want it ruined."

Rowan wondered what the hell would happen to him. He assumed some whippings, but honestly, if that was the punishment, they would have done that in Seven. He eyed the room, looking for his torture item. He spotted coals on top of what would soon be a lit fire, packs of cigarettes and cigars, and a lighter. Was his crime really that bad?

"Listen, son, you are not in a position of power here, don't act like you're in one. It makes you look like an ass. You understand me?

Rowan could only nod. He understood, but he couldn't open his mouth. More words would spill out that would make him look like a cocky jackass. He knew he was being rude and disrespectful; he had been acting like that his last day in Seven, too. It was his way of coping with his parents who were drinking so much that they didn't care their eldest son had turned to drinking and drugs. It was his way to cope with his ADHD; it was a way to cope with the life he was damned to.

He watched the PK walk over to the coals and light the fire beneath them, and then make his way over to the cigars and cigarettes. He thought they had been put there for the enjoyment of the PK, but that thought was wrong as well. They were another punishment; they were another horrible torture. He removed a single cigarette from the pile of several packs and lit it. The PK began talking, spewing words out that were such filthy lies.

"Look, I know what you did, Springer. You ran away, a big no-no, and you trespassed on Capitol territory, another stupid idea. That would normally get you avoxed, but the head of this place was feeling nice, so you wont have that happen. I assume you have something to do with the rebellion, so you best spit it out, but you wont make it that easy, I know it. See this,"

Rowan opened his mouth to object, but the cigarette was now dangerously close to his face. He could feel the heat from the flames that were trying to jump out at him.

"I don't smoke, and I'm sure you know fire hurts like hell and burns. Just a warning, you'll probably scream."

He opened his mouth once again to object, but the pain in his back was too immense to ignore. They scream that spilled from his mouth was involuntary; it was a loud, demonic scream that sent a shiver through his whole body.

"I don't know what rebellion you're talking about. I'll admit that I did run away and I did trespass, but I'm not part of any rebellion. I ran away because my life at home is hell, and I went into the woods because my girlfriend has been in there numerous times and never got caught and we figured it would be safe. We planned on going back though. We weren't gonna be there very long. We weren't in there very long. Only thirty minutes or so before we got picked up..."

Rowan bit down hard on his lip to stop rambling. He knew he should have stopped before he told about Nee being in the woods a plethora of times. Maybe a different PK would interrogate Nee and they wouldn't know she had been in the woods more than once. If they knew how many times she had been in the woods, her punishment would be far worse than Rowan's. Maybe she would be avoxed, like he could have been. The thought sickened him, and it took all he had to not spew whatever meager amount of food he had in his stomach all over the floor.

.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.
Give me strength,
Be my light
.·.·.·.·.·.·.·.

[/color][/center]

[Spesh]

Seeing that Rowan Springer is no longer an active character, I'd like to request for this thread to close.

Thanks