Post by Lorpius Prime on Jun 21, 2009 4:01:56 GMT -5
"Where the hell did you get that?" Reg demanded, still staring at the dagger in Theodore's right hand.
"I always carry this with me."
"Even when you're locked up in a dungeon?"
"Yes," he said simply, and slipped the dagger back into his pants.
Reg opened her mouth to growl something at him, but Theodore held up a hand to stop her.
"I am sorry," he said, looking truly apologetic. "I will tell you, but it is something of a story and I would prefer to leave it until later. We should leave as quickly as we can."
Reg worked her jaw a few more times before she decided that she could let the matter of the knife wait for a while. That let her mind move on to consider Theodore's actual words.
"Leave?" she asked nervously. "You mean break out of here?"
"Indeed," he smiled pleasantly.
"Um…" Reg glanced around. "How? I mean, the knife in the lock was a cool trick, but you know there are people out there," Reg pointed towards the stairs leading back up to the main entrance, "right? People with guns?"
"Oh we won't go that way. Please, follow me." He beckoned with one hand and started walking back towards his cell.
Reg glanced around again, as if looking for the guards to burst in any moment. But they didn't, and she stepped cautiously after Theodore.
She peeked into his cell to find him kneeling on the topmost bunk, leaning precariously over one end to grasp the bars of his window.
"Um," Reg said.
"Just a moment, if you will," Theodore told her. He fiddled with the window for a few seconds, then braced one hand against the wall, and tugged mightily on the bars.
The entire window came free of its fittings and clattered to the stone floor. Theodore himself seemed to lose his balance and nearly fell off the bed, but he flung his arms out just in time and managed to catch himself. Reg had taken a step back when the window fell, and felt a little embarrassed that she hadn't tried to help Theodore.
"There now," he said, crawling back upright on top of the bed. "The gap is a bit wide, but I think we can make it well enough."
"You're serious?" Reg asked incredulously. "You're really just going to break out of here?"
Theodore looked surprised by her question. "Y—yes," he said after a moment's hesitation. "We both are."
Reg huffed in exasperation.
"Look, Theodore," she said, "I'm not a criminal. I don't exactly want to be in here, but I'm not going to try to break out and get into real trouble."
Theodore stared at her for a few moments, and then sighed deeply. He rotated his legs around and sat down on the edge of the bed to look down at Reg.
"Miss Odette," he said, "I'm sorry. I cannot imagine how very strange this situation must be to you. I wish that I could explain all of it to you, and I do intend to do so eventually. But I'm afraid we just do not have enough time to go through everything. So I will simply have to implore you to trust me when I tell you that you must escape with me right now."
"What are you talking about?" Reg took a slow half-step back away from the man.
"This is not a jail," he said calmly, "and you are not in here for committing any sort of petty crime. You are not going to be released after an investigation and a trial; you will not have a trial."
"But—" Reg started to say before she realized she didn't have any specific objection in mind.
Theodore shook his head, "This is a military stockade under martial law, and you are not going to be released from it. I do not think they will execute you, unless you really have done something that you have not told me. But until they are sure of exactly who you are they will not let you go free, and I am afraid you have probably destroyed that possibility already."
He stopped talking. It took a few moments for Reg to realize that this meant he thought he had explained himself.
"What?" she demanded, correcting the error.
"The only way you will leave this place is if you escape with me," he explained patiently.
"That's ridiculous!"
"I would say that it is tragic, but nonetheless it is true."
"They can't just lock me in here forever."
Theodore took a deep breath, and then leaned forward.
"Listen to me," he said, looking directly into Reg's eyes. "You are not in the same place that you were this morning. The rules here are different. I know you are confused, and I am sorry to frighten you, but for your own sake you cannot remain here."
"What does that even mean, not in the same place?"
"I will explain as best I can, but you must come with me. The sooner we leave, the farther away we will be before they begin searching for us."
He held out one hand to her and reached towards the window with the other. Reg looked at his wide palm, but took a step backwards.
"Why should I trust you any more than the people in the clown suits?" she asked, a little nervously.
"Because they are…" his words were acid, but he trailed off. He shook his head and sighed, "No, you do not have any reason to trust me more than they. But have any of the soldiers you met promised to release you? Did any of them explain what is happening?"
"Well…" Reg gave him a sour look. "…no," she admitted.
Theodore offered his hand again, "Come with me. I cannot say that you will be happy to hear the story, but you need to hear it anyway. And it is at least an interesting story, if I may presume to say."
Reg looked long and hard at his hand, again. Then she looked about the tiny cell in the tiny dungeon, as if hoping that something in there would tell her what she ought to do. What she'd said earlier was true, Reg didn't want to be here at all. It was dark, damp, and probably filthy from the look of the green slime that stained the stone walls. But Reg also didn't want to become a fugitive. She'd always been a good girl, or as good as any ordinary girl growing up in America could be. She did have that one traffic violation on her record, but that hadn't even been her fault, and it was hardly…
Reg's eyes settled on the small metal bucket resting in the far corner of Theodore's cell. A pair of flies was chasing each other in circles around the top of the little pail. Reg wrinkled her nose, and realized that her mind was made up.
She grabbed Theodore's thick and sturdy hand, and her fellow fugitive broke out in a smile that made Reg quite certain he was a lunatic.
"I always carry this with me."
"Even when you're locked up in a dungeon?"
"Yes," he said simply, and slipped the dagger back into his pants.
Reg opened her mouth to growl something at him, but Theodore held up a hand to stop her.
"I am sorry," he said, looking truly apologetic. "I will tell you, but it is something of a story and I would prefer to leave it until later. We should leave as quickly as we can."
Reg worked her jaw a few more times before she decided that she could let the matter of the knife wait for a while. That let her mind move on to consider Theodore's actual words.
"Leave?" she asked nervously. "You mean break out of here?"
"Indeed," he smiled pleasantly.
"Um…" Reg glanced around. "How? I mean, the knife in the lock was a cool trick, but you know there are people out there," Reg pointed towards the stairs leading back up to the main entrance, "right? People with guns?"
"Oh we won't go that way. Please, follow me." He beckoned with one hand and started walking back towards his cell.
Reg glanced around again, as if looking for the guards to burst in any moment. But they didn't, and she stepped cautiously after Theodore.
She peeked into his cell to find him kneeling on the topmost bunk, leaning precariously over one end to grasp the bars of his window.
"Um," Reg said.
"Just a moment, if you will," Theodore told her. He fiddled with the window for a few seconds, then braced one hand against the wall, and tugged mightily on the bars.
The entire window came free of its fittings and clattered to the stone floor. Theodore himself seemed to lose his balance and nearly fell off the bed, but he flung his arms out just in time and managed to catch himself. Reg had taken a step back when the window fell, and felt a little embarrassed that she hadn't tried to help Theodore.
"There now," he said, crawling back upright on top of the bed. "The gap is a bit wide, but I think we can make it well enough."
"You're serious?" Reg asked incredulously. "You're really just going to break out of here?"
Theodore looked surprised by her question. "Y—yes," he said after a moment's hesitation. "We both are."
Reg huffed in exasperation.
"Look, Theodore," she said, "I'm not a criminal. I don't exactly want to be in here, but I'm not going to try to break out and get into real trouble."
Theodore stared at her for a few moments, and then sighed deeply. He rotated his legs around and sat down on the edge of the bed to look down at Reg.
"Miss Odette," he said, "I'm sorry. I cannot imagine how very strange this situation must be to you. I wish that I could explain all of it to you, and I do intend to do so eventually. But I'm afraid we just do not have enough time to go through everything. So I will simply have to implore you to trust me when I tell you that you must escape with me right now."
"What are you talking about?" Reg took a slow half-step back away from the man.
"This is not a jail," he said calmly, "and you are not in here for committing any sort of petty crime. You are not going to be released after an investigation and a trial; you will not have a trial."
"But—" Reg started to say before she realized she didn't have any specific objection in mind.
Theodore shook his head, "This is a military stockade under martial law, and you are not going to be released from it. I do not think they will execute you, unless you really have done something that you have not told me. But until they are sure of exactly who you are they will not let you go free, and I am afraid you have probably destroyed that possibility already."
He stopped talking. It took a few moments for Reg to realize that this meant he thought he had explained himself.
"What?" she demanded, correcting the error.
"The only way you will leave this place is if you escape with me," he explained patiently.
"That's ridiculous!"
"I would say that it is tragic, but nonetheless it is true."
"They can't just lock me in here forever."
Theodore took a deep breath, and then leaned forward.
"Listen to me," he said, looking directly into Reg's eyes. "You are not in the same place that you were this morning. The rules here are different. I know you are confused, and I am sorry to frighten you, but for your own sake you cannot remain here."
"What does that even mean, not in the same place?"
"I will explain as best I can, but you must come with me. The sooner we leave, the farther away we will be before they begin searching for us."
He held out one hand to her and reached towards the window with the other. Reg looked at his wide palm, but took a step backwards.
"Why should I trust you any more than the people in the clown suits?" she asked, a little nervously.
"Because they are…" his words were acid, but he trailed off. He shook his head and sighed, "No, you do not have any reason to trust me more than they. But have any of the soldiers you met promised to release you? Did any of them explain what is happening?"
"Well…" Reg gave him a sour look. "…no," she admitted.
Theodore offered his hand again, "Come with me. I cannot say that you will be happy to hear the story, but you need to hear it anyway. And it is at least an interesting story, if I may presume to say."
Reg looked long and hard at his hand, again. Then she looked about the tiny cell in the tiny dungeon, as if hoping that something in there would tell her what she ought to do. What she'd said earlier was true, Reg didn't want to be here at all. It was dark, damp, and probably filthy from the look of the green slime that stained the stone walls. But Reg also didn't want to become a fugitive. She'd always been a good girl, or as good as any ordinary girl growing up in America could be. She did have that one traffic violation on her record, but that hadn't even been her fault, and it was hardly…
Reg's eyes settled on the small metal bucket resting in the far corner of Theodore's cell. A pair of flies was chasing each other in circles around the top of the little pail. Reg wrinkled her nose, and realized that her mind was made up.
She grabbed Theodore's thick and sturdy hand, and her fellow fugitive broke out in a smile that made Reg quite certain he was a lunatic.