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feredarStory: In Limbo
Year: 986 FY
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Isshiri
Warnings: Imprisonment, drugging, restraints, isolation/solitary confinement. If I missed anything, please let me know.
No one had hurt him. That was strange.
Isshiri knew they knew who he was, which meant they had to know why he was here, and…other than the minor injuries from his arrest, no one had hurt him.
Well, they’d drugged him; everything was misty on the edges and he couldn’t use his fire, but that wasn’t exactly hurting. Terrifying, absolutely, but not...as long as they didn’t keep him under too long, he would be all right. He didn’t think it had been long enough to damage him. It was hard to tell.
Wherever they were keeping him--it was a wide, empty room; not the cell he’d first been thrown in after his stunt with the dragon; they’d bound him and taken away his prosthetic and left him here in the dark--wherever they were keeping him had no windows. There was no natural light, no sure way to measure time.
He could just barely pick out the door on the opposite end of the room, unless it was open--then, it was clear. But that, as far as he could figure, didn’t happen on a regular schedule. He didn’t even think it was the same guard every time, but since they never spoke, and it was hard to see, it could have been.
He thought he could hear voices, movement, on the other side of the wall, but maybe he was just imagining it. It was lonely, here in the dark, where the walls shimmered and he couldn’t even make heat for company.
It could have been worse. He kept telling himself that, as time drained by around him, alone and cold in the dark. It could have been worse.
No one had hurt him. No one had hurt him.
At least, no one had hurt him yet.
Year: 986 FY
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Isshiri
Warnings: Imprisonment, drugging, restraints, isolation/solitary confinement. If I missed anything, please let me know.
No one had hurt him. That was strange.
Isshiri knew they knew who he was, which meant they had to know why he was here, and…other than the minor injuries from his arrest, no one had hurt him.
Well, they’d drugged him; everything was misty on the edges and he couldn’t use his fire, but that wasn’t exactly hurting. Terrifying, absolutely, but not...as long as they didn’t keep him under too long, he would be all right. He didn’t think it had been long enough to damage him. It was hard to tell.
Wherever they were keeping him--it was a wide, empty room; not the cell he’d first been thrown in after his stunt with the dragon; they’d bound him and taken away his prosthetic and left him here in the dark--wherever they were keeping him had no windows. There was no natural light, no sure way to measure time.
He could just barely pick out the door on the opposite end of the room, unless it was open--then, it was clear. But that, as far as he could figure, didn’t happen on a regular schedule. He didn’t even think it was the same guard every time, but since they never spoke, and it was hard to see, it could have been.
He thought he could hear voices, movement, on the other side of the wall, but maybe he was just imagining it. It was lonely, here in the dark, where the walls shimmered and he couldn’t even make heat for company.
It could have been worse. He kept telling himself that, as time drained by around him, alone and cold in the dark. It could have been worse.
No one had hurt him. No one had hurt him.
At least, no one had hurt him yet.