Date: 2017-02-22 09:26 pm (UTC)
mementomortis: (whatever)
Theo has no idea how long he's been in this hellpit. Weeks, at least. Maybe longer. He's had a hard time keeping track of that. His new cell's roomier than his first, with enough space to stand and move around. But it's also entirely lacking in anything even vaguely resembling natural light. The portholes on his door are always shuttered tight, even behind the thick glass, except for when that prick with too many teeth comes to mock him. He only brings him his daily meal of Loaf about half the time. That feels personal, but it doesn't bother him much. It's not like he wants to eat that shit anyway.

The first cell they shove him into is only barely recognizable as one. It takes a whole posse of guards to shove him into it even with him heavily sedated; they'd barely gotten that fucking killswitch in his neck as it was. By the time they get him bolted into this giant drainage pipe thing, the kind that might be under some fucking bridge, it stinks heavily of burned meat and hair. It stays that way for God knows how long. He spends his time there living increasingly outside of his body. It's too nightmarish and unreal to acknowledge as happening to him. He refuses to eat. Eventually, they take to flooding his cell with water to push him out. He wedges himself against the walls and waits it out every time they try. It's almost like a game, after the first couple attempts. If they want him out of the cell they're going to have to drown him to do it.

They do. And Theo gets a different cell after. A cement box, an upgrade. They try to force feed him all of once. Theo prides himself on how especially uncooperative he is. He gets shoved back into his new cell after, and not even vomiting up the melted surgical tubing can take away that small victory again. He gets weird homesick pangs for Arkham.

Theo's dozing on his cement-block bed when the water comes back on. It's the worst fucking alarm clock. He hears Grigg's voice over the static intercom, and then the cell's filling with water. His day's serving of Loaf floats by his head on a paper plate like some kind of sad demented boat. He gets to claw at the top of his cell for air for a long moment before he gets flushed out the open cell door.

He gets shackled while he's still coughing and choking, spitting out nasty water. They haul him to his feet with a metal collar on the end of a pole like some kind of rabid dog. He rewards them for their troubles and gets a firehouse turned on him for it. Of course. Of fucking course.

He's still sopping wet and steaming by the time they drag out into the prison yard. They release him from the pole-collar with a shove and just... leave him there. The air's fetid and humid in the way swamps always are, but it's outside. There's even other people out here. Lots of guards, couple prisoners. A few military assholes hovering around one of the prisoners. The other one is a woman leaning against the wall, wrapped in chains. She looks like a corpse with a bad haircut. When she moves, he's surprised to see her eyes and mouth aren't sewn shut. But that's dumb.

He awkwardly shuffles over to the corpse woman after a beat. She's tall. Like, really tall. "Hey," He says, squinting up at her then at her myriad restraints. "Didn't like the loaf either, huh?"
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don't forget, we're the bad guys

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