2012-11-27 In The Dungeons Of Doom

The battle of Doomstadt went... well, fairly awful for the attackers. Captured and imprisoned, they begin to awake in their cells one by one, but only when Doom allows. First, is Blink.
Her cell is fairly comfortable, in fact, it's down right hospitable. At least for a dungeon. She'll find no shackles, only a simple, thin, padded collar around her neck. A broad bookcase sits in the corner, with a chair that looks only about as comfortable as a decently priced office chair. Her bed is an actual bed, though plain and simple, a small area presumably set aside for bathing and the like sits in the corner behind a screen that provides modesty, if not total privacy. Her clothing and all possessions have been stripped of her, and a small pile of linens, which she might be pleased to find includes two pairs of clothing, one a simple, comfortable, but loose fitting outfit of pants and a shirt, the other a far more formal looking dress, though that too, is simple in appearance.
Something inhibits her powers, most likely the collar, which also has been delivering a heavy sedative which should be beginning to wear off.
Even compared to her home here, this place is luxurious to an almost scandalous degree, to Blink's mind. Her home had been decorated with invaders in mind. Sight lines obscured and broken up by mismatching furniture, chickenwire stapled to the inside of the windows and over the curtains to make a relatively subtle deterrent against sudden intruders. Blink has not ever been given the opportunity to let down her guard. 
That has not changed here. 
Even sedated, the screams had come, just as they do most night. Muffled, whimpered, but still there. When she finally bursts back to consciousness, it is with a surprising amount of energy. Immediately, she's taking everything in. 
And, whilst she's embarrassed that someone has stripped her, and she spends a good few minutes trying to force her powers to activate... in the end, she reacts quite well for someone in her position. She doesn't scream, cry, shout or complain. She gets up, goes to the bathroom area, and brushes her teeth. 
Her mouth tastes awful. And whilst memories of the previous night are filtering back, there has never been a better time to hold Mister Creed's wisdom close to her heart. 
Mourning can come any time. Survival HAS to come now.
"Nightmares?" comes an imperial sounding voice from the door. What was closed a minute ago, is now open, and standing directly in the midst of the doorframe is Victor von Doom, himself. His hood is up, but the mask on his face is perfectly clear, as are the distinct, blue eyes that gaze out towards Blink. "You were screaming quite steadily, despite the sedation we were forced to give you. Do you need a drink?" Without waiting for an answer, he gestures to someone outside the door, and a servant hurries in, pouring out two goblets of wine and setting them down on a small table he quickly erects before he takes up a position in the corner of the room.
Blink turns around instantly, and is ducking low until she realizes the absurdity of doing so. If Doom wanted her dead, then she would be dead. That much is painfully obvious to her. The girl pauses for just a second, and then she straightens back up. She doesn't relax, of course, but she does nod her head, and, slowly, move to the table. There, she takes one of the goblets, and sips. 
Only to spit it back out almost instantly. "Ghck." She spits, making, quite a face as she sets the cup back down. "No offense meant, but, I prefer my fruit juice... unspoilt." She's really got no better way to think of it. She'd never had wine before. She's guessing that's what this is... but, it just tastes, bad. And the surreal nature of the awakening after her nightmares, hasn't helped put her in the right state of mind for new experiences.
There's another long moment as she eyes the much larger man warily, and then, she has to ask, because the tension is going to render the question moot...
"Why am I still alive?"
"The reason is twofold," Doom responds after picking up his own goblet. "The first, is your powers. They are unique in the way they work. Bending space... Quite interesting. The ward I had set around my castle was intended to defend against reality manipulation. It seems it works equally well against space distortion." He takes a drink of the wine through the 'mouth' of his mask, before continuing, "The second, is your origin and relationship with the others. I have footage of the attack, and have analysed it quite extensively, discovering quite a bit of interesting information. Would you like to hear it?" Doom asks, gesturing for the table, then to his servant who starts to bring over the chair from the bookcase, while at the same time, a literal hovering throne slips into the room and over to Doom. Granted, it looks more like high-tech hovering personal command center then throne, but it also possesses a certain regal appearance about it.
Blink listens. She's a very good listener, and what she hears, doesn't make her feel much better. A shiver runs down her spine, and she lets herself sit down. Sitting, she doesn't feel like a chastised child, made to stand in front of the adult. The technology itself is noted too, of course. If only because it seems to be vastly superior to that which she has seen in her time here. Much more like home, in a strange kind of way. 
"I would." She says, at last. And to her own surprise, she's not lying. What this man has been able to deduce does seem very worth learning.
Doom dips his head faintly, then murmurs, "Before I continue, perhaps you would prefer to get dressed?" He gestures briefly towards the pile of linens, before stating simply, "You are a bit of a mystery. You appear in none of my files, or research, which mean you are either below my notice, or do not exist. Your power rules out the former, while the latter is obviously false as well. I suspect, that you are not of Earth, and a somewhat recent arrival at that, and yet your now deceased friends were able to rope you into coming here to attack my land." He sips at his wine again, before continuing, "The footage shows varying amounts of trust, or the lack thereof, between your former team. You were not present at either of their attempts to keep me from returning peace to their fractured nation, which leads me to believe you were a recent addition. I suspect, the only reason they were interested in you was because of your ability to get them where they wanted to go. You probably do not know any of them intimately, which is further reinforced by their lack of emotion at your capture." He pauses to see if she'll object to any of this, before adding, "The reason you still live, is because I am interested in you, and I feel you were manipulated by them. Indeed, once you have recovered fully, you are more then welcome to leave if that is your desire... If not...
"Well, I think we can learn a lot from each other."
Blink had, naturally, been wearing undergarments. Such is the bare minimum for comics! Though she does, now, get up and slip some more clothing on. It isn't that she hadn't wanted to, so much as she didn't want him to feel as though his presence somehow pressured her into doing so. A minor act of defiance to demonstrate that she is not intimidated by the obviously precarious nature of her situation.
She listens. She listens, and it is very impressive. She narrows her eyes just a little bit at the idea that they wouldn't have reacted to her capture - she very much doubts that is true, and that one little detail casts doubt on the rest...
But after she has slid into her clothes, she nods her head. 
"You've been very hospitable." She says, conceding that point. "And I know broken and terrified people. The people of your country weren't that. When they fought us, it wasn't just out of fear. It was out of dedication. I can appreciate that you can, at least, inspire more than terror." Because, as she had so astutely noted internally when she'd set out to attack in this foolhardy endeavor, Doom is NOT Apocalypse. 
"But you're a terrible judge of character if you think I'm going to believe for a moment that Psylocke wasn't upset by my capture." The others? She... didn't really know Shift, and it is hard to imagine Domino getting upset about anything. But she doesn't say that. 
"If we can't be honest with one another, why should I trust that you'll let me go when I've recovered? If you took this collar off me, I could make my way home right now."
Doom had obviously expected this reaction, and only replies by pressing a single button on his throne. An image blinks into life above the table, taken, clearly from Doom's point of view as a dizzying amount of information flicks through his HUD. He's speaking with Psylocke and Kwabena on the bridge, when an alert blinks up onto the screen indicating that power spheres have captured another intruder, followed by a picture of Blink just before capture. His words are obvious, informing them of her capture before he conjurs up a ring of runes around them and warns them not to try and leave. Their response doesn't seem to change, though Kwabena's form does, and Psylocke delivers a speech about never giving up and that she wants Doom to kill her in their stead.
He ends the image, before stating simply, "Such noble words, and ones I'm sure you think only solidfy your opinions. However, you'll notice that they appear to be unaffected entirely by the news. Indeed, they were shaking and afraid, though brave, however I had just eliminated the mercenary you brought with you. Her speech, while potentially self-sacrificing, was a pointless attempt to 'reveal' me for the monster I am, for defending my life and the lives of my citizens. If this does, however, constitute an emotional response, then I stand corrected."
"As for the collar." He waves his hand and it clicks open, falling from her neck unless she does something to stop it. "As I said, you are free to go, though it wasn't the collar that stopped you from leaving. When I brought you in, you were injured. Badly. While you were being attended to, we discovered that your encounter with my wards left you weakened, shorting out your powers temporarily. Go ahead. Try to teleport to the other side of the room." With this, he sips at his drink again.
Blink is silent for a few long moments. She does try to teleport, and, she does find that she can't. Its, strange. She'd been badly injured many times before, but she'd never had her power taken away by it. She actually begins to feel a little sick. Glad that she's sitting down, it is as though a limb had been torn off. Only time would tell whether or not it would return. Doom's removal of the device - the sticking mark of ownership and slavery that feels so very awful against her skin - does a lot to make her more inclined to believe him.
She has no way of knowing that Doom's wards are responsible for it. 
"Wherever I have gone." She says, slowly. "I have met men determined to rule over others, willing to toy with lives and kill to prove a point. They died, trying to stop such a man." 
She may never understand why Domino did it. That woman... had done the right thing, yes, but only ever grudgingly. She'd never have imagined she'd stand to the death. 
"For what it is worth, I never tried to kill any of your people." The purple girl sighs, and closes her eyes. One hand comes up to rest on her forehead, so she can lean against the table, before she continues. 
"I don't think you understand what any of this was about. I feel sick, thinking that you killed them when we could have just talked this through. But, I... believe you thought you were doing the right thing." 
There was another man she knew, willing to go to extremes, unwilling to countenance disobedience... and he, had saved her life countless times. It is not as though Magneto had the luxury of being able to avoid killing his enemies. Can she judge Doom so harshly when he seems to be so concerned with her?
But... Psylocke...
And Rei.
"I'll tell you what you want to know about me, but, then, I have to get back to America. There's someone relying on me. I can't let them down."
Doom watches Blink for a moment, before he finishes his goblet of wine and sets it down on the table. He sighs, shaking his head, "I do believe they told you what you wanted to hear. I have killed, but what man, defending his country, defending his beliefs, is unwilling to do that? Would you judge me so harshly for that, when you allied yourself with a woman who kills for profit? For another clearly trained in the arts of death? Do you know who the man was that you went with? A common thug. A drug dealer and former heroine addict." He sets his hands off to the side, "You saw the determination in my people's eyes. It was not fear that drove them, but loyalty. Loyalty to the idea that a nation, and indeed a world can be unified in peace, for they have seen it for themselves. Do you think that I was born into my throne? No. I was a beggar. A common vagrant on the street. A gypsy. I escaped Latveria, when it was ruled by a bloodthirsty man, crueler to his own subjects then he was to the ants that walked beneath his boots. When I returned, I alone stormed the castle and overthrew him, taking his throne and turning the country around to prosperity. Do you know how long it took? To build this nation up to the pillar of strength, peace, and prosperity it is today? Nine years. Nine years of Doom's rule. I wish only to help those of the Earth, and yet people are blind, because they cling to a false notion. They cling to the hope that man can truly be trusted to abandon crime and war if given the /choice/. I am sorry, but that is one choice that I will not allow, and that is why they came to attack me."
He pauses for a moment, before sighing, "I understand obligation, however, I ask you... How will you get back? I can arrange transportation, but it will take several days before I can get everything cleared. My question can wait until you are stronger. In the meantime, I think more hospitable arrangements can be made for you."
Blink's jaw tightens as she listens, but, she is patient. She's said her piece, and she does listen to the story that she is told. There are parts she is sure are true, but the subtext - of peace through domination - is one that she just can't accept.
"No." She says, at last. Her eyes open, again, and she stares directly into that metal mask. It is a fearsome face, but she faces it with commendable determination. Something that Doom has no doubt seen far too much in the past few days. 
"It is, important to me that you understand why we did what we did. And for me, that includes where I came from. Will you listen?"
Doom stares into that determined face, and something flickers in his eyes, like something has been confirmed, and perhaps approval, though it's not an entirely pleased expression. His face, of course, is unreadable, but he dips his head to Blink, gesturing to his servant who begins to pour out another goblet of wine. "And a goblet of water for our guest... Perhaps some bread as well." He then looks back to Blink, stating thinly, "I will listen."
"My name, is Clarice Ferguson."
It feels like such a large thing to admit even that. The girl's voice has more steel in it now, more determination. She doesn't know if she'll get through to Doom; but there is enough hope in her to try.
"In my world, a mutant more powerful than any other rose up just a short while ago, by this timeline. He is called Apocalypse. Immortal, invincible, even nuclear weapons couldn't stop him. He obliterated much of humanity when I was just a child. Those of us with genetic gifts were, spared. Locked in slave pens. For, experimentation. To make us strong. Survival of the fittest. Most didn't survive. I was lucky, I was rescued in my teenage years." 
She presses on quickly, though. Not wanting to dwell too long on those painful memories. "I'm telling you this because in some ways... Apocalypse wiped out war. He crushed all nations who dared to disobey him. He has got his peace, and the punishment for any disobedience to his law, is death." 
She hasn't taken her eyes off Doom's since she began, and she doesn't stop now. Though her voice does get more emotional. She's, used to pain, used to going days without sleep, used to the worst rigors she can put her body through, but what she is not used to, is discussing ethics with a tyrant who killed her friends, and praying that he might see things her way. But that's what she's doing now because - God help her - she WANTS Doom to be on her side. Just speaking the name Apocalypse aloud has got her blood boiling. She stands up. 
"But resistance, continues. Its hopeless. We KNOW that. We are too few and too weak to beat Apocalypse, let alone his army. But we hit where we can. We free children. We help the humans to survive. We do it because it doesn't matter that Apocalypse can kill us. He can't stop us from living." 
There are actual tears in her eyes now, and at last, her gaze breaks, looking away. "Lord Doom. You asked if I'd judge you for killing? And, I won't. I've killed too. To try and save what I believe in. But what I want, more than anything, is a world where we're all equal. Where everyone is worthy of respect, no matter what they were born with, or how strong they are now. I grew up underneath a God who turned the world into a heaven for the fittest." 
And her head bows. "That's why, even though she thought I should have stayed back, I fought. To try and stop you from inadvertently making this world into just another kind of hell."
Doom listens. He said he would, and he always stays true to his word. He's silent for a long moment, nearly finishing the new goblet of wine before he speaks, because he's gotten something very important for listening. Information.
"We are done, I think," Doom murmurs. "Neither of us will sway the other. You shall be kept here until such time as I see fit to release you. You have provided me with what I wanted. The source of your power. the X-gene." With a snap of his fingers, the collar re-attaches itself to her neck, "You will rest for an hour, and then the experimentation shall begin. Resist, and I can assure you the true purpose of that collar will be revealed. You will survive your stay with me, I can assure you, and you will come to no undue harm. I am not Apocolypse, and you need not worry that he will rise to power here, for I will now be able to recognize the threat if it should ever arise. Sleep. Eat. Drink. You will need your energy for the days to come." The throne sweeps out of the room, followed swiftly by his servant, and the door swings shut with a bang, followed by silence.
Betrayed.
It is a curiously new kind of pain. Not since her days in the slave pens has Blink been stabbed in the back by someone she trusted. The X-Men are good judges of character, and the fact that they are bound together by such agonizing circumstances tends to make blood run thicker than water.
The realization of it spreads through her as a physical sensation. A numbness that kills the spark of affection; the hope for a kindred soul, that she had seen in Doom. There is no sound from her, as he rises, and she sinks to her knees. 'Experimentation', he had said. The Experimentation.
"I told him to listen." She whispers to herself, when the door has well and truly closed behind him. "It isn't my X-Gene that makes me strong."
An hour later Doom returns, alone. He doesn't announce his arrival, though his boots on the stone floor do. The door is opened, and he steps in, looking to Blink. For a long moment, he stares at her, before he flicks his hand through the air and the collar returns to his palm. "I have a question for you, Clarice." He stares at her, silently for a long moment, clearly still mulling things over, before he asks, "In your time, what is the fate... of the Fantastic Four?"
Clarice had chosen a book, largely at random, and begun reading it. Sleep is out of the question. When Doom returns, she does not look happy - even when the collar is removed. She needs, mostly, to keep her mind occupied. 
"The Fantastic Four..." She repeats. She really has to think. Her pop culture is not great, even with heroes, and at last, she shakes her head. "I don't recognize the name." She admits, "That doesn't mean much, though. There's a lot of differences between people here."
Doom frowns beneath his mask, though that is obviously, hidden. He steps over to where she reads, and holds out his hand, "Give me your wrist. I need only a small blood sample for my experiments." He's silent for a moment, before he then adds. "Reed Richards. Do you know of him? He possesses no X-gene." A small needle ejects from one of the fingers on his gauntlet as he waits for Blink's hand.
Blink gives over her hand without complaint. Years of experimentation under the Sugar Man and Sinister will reveal that her blood and genetics have been tampered with quite extensively to magnify her control over her abilities. The science on display here is hundreds of years beyond most minds of the era... but replicating such feats when there's only the result to go off is far from easy.
"I think I saw him on the television." She says. And then, to clarify. "Here. We don't have television at home. If he doesn't have the X-Gene, chances are he's dead, enslaved or in hiding." Her answers are more taciturn. Straight to the point.
As soon as the blood is withdrawn, he looks to the syringe, and nods briefly, releasing her wrist. The needle slips back into his gauntlet, and Doom then looks down on her. "You did not know who I am, and so I assume your Victor is also dead, enslaved or in hiding." He considers her for a very long moment, before he snaps his fingers and a guard walks in through the door carrying her equipment. "I replenished what stocks I could. Your powers are fully functional, it is the wards of my Castle that prevent you from teleporting. You are truly free to go. However, if you stay, I will aid you in returning to your time. In no dimension. In no existance, shall Doom be a slave to another, and if he is truly dead, then your world is in need of a lesson. To face Victor von Doom, is to face death. Apocolypse will die by the hands of Doom."
This, takes Blink entirely by surprise.
Silence reigns for a few seconds from the stunned girl. On the one hand, delivering Doom to her world could backfire spectacularly. On the other, it is difficult to see how anything could be worse than the existence that already rules supreme, there. She'd not been lying when she said she saw loyalty in Doom's servants. Apocalypse's are never truly loyal; merely terrified into slavish obedience out of fear of their own destruction. 
But there is still Rei. 
"... May I bring someone else here?" She asks, at last, as she takes her quiver. The clothes are nice but, it is the quiver of crystal shards (and she would almost be disappointed if at least one of those wasn't missing), that she really wants. To help her feel like herself again. "We saved a mutant girl from slave traffickers. She's, fragile. A survivor. She /could/ look after herself, but..." 
She doesn't finish it. Letting her request hang on the air. If she had to... she probably would cut that girl loose for the sake of her world. One life against thousands is no competition at all. But she clearly doesn't want to make that choice.
"Slavery can not be tolerated," Doom replies, "Tell me where she is and I shall send my Guards to collect her." Doom turns back to the door and stomps outwards. Inwardly, he may tell himself that the reason he goes to defeat Apocolypse is to regain the lost honor of his alternate self, but deep down, Doom simply can not sit idly by while any version of Earth is threatened.
"I cannot allow you to roam my castle when and where you wish, but you will be allowed a certain amount of freedom." He glances back to Blink, and utters, "However, your work is not finished tonight. You will be shown your quarters, but I will need information only you hold if we are to locate the precise reality from which you come. During your stay, you will be treated and act as a citizen of Latveria, meaning you will address me as, 'My Lord.' Is this understood?"
To make a deal with this man feels foolish. But in the end, what choice does she have? Well, for a start, there's only one. "It'd be better to leave her be." Blink says, at last. "She can look after herself. Guards dragging her here... would only terrify her, and she'd never go anywhere without me." Or Psylocke, or Domino, or Shift, but they are dead. Don't think about that right now, Clarice. Think about home. Mister Creed. Magneto, even. Helping Doom could get her back to them. And he really could spell the end for Apocalypse.
"As you wish, My Lord." She says, as she gets up. "I'll not test your patience any further. I need you a lot more than you need me."
Category:Logs
Category:RPLogs