For Treason: Act II, scene iv
May. 7th, 2026 05:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFourteen and Jessie spend time in the gym, and then Jessie makes Fourteen go the fuck to sleep. It is unclear whether this actually helps or not.
TW: Indoctrination, Sleep Deprivation, Identity Issues
A few days in captivity saw Celeste and... the Thing moved to the group housing. It was a brutally simple dorm-style room, with a couple of twin beds, some bathrooms, and a small food area. Someone had gotten cute and provided some bookshelves and books, and of course there was the obvious entire freaking gym off one of the doors in the communal den that doesn't lead to a bedroom. She would know. She had walked the entire place twice over at least a dozen times by this point.
There was a small part of her that appreciated how weirdly not-bad the entire setup was. It was immediately and viscerally smothered by the rest of her, which actually had standards.
For a lack of anything else to do, Celeste was spending time on the treadmill in the gym. The thing, she sat in a corner and stared at the wall. The less she had to think about it, the better.
Her alone time was interrupted by Jessie wandering in almost like a ghost. She wasn't really in the mood for cardio, though; instead she made her way to the knife throwing area, grabbing a set of knives and taking aim. She was still exceptionally bad at it, though. More often than not there was a clink and a low, "Oops."
Celeste didn't so much push the e-stop on the treadmill as she let her arm flop vaguely in its general direction and hit it mostly by pure dumb luck. She had been on the machine long enough that even walking across the room to where Jessie was felt vaguely like floating on a cloud, like her feet did not quite reach the ground with each step.
The Thing turned to look, just to make sure that 14 would be able to avoid tripping and falling. That was one level of embarrassment that she did not need.
"How are you holding up?"
Jessie threw another knife, scowling. Not at Celeste - just at her inability to make one stick.
"Living," she murmured, adjusting the next knife in her hand and throwing it. Clink. Sigh. "You?"
Fine enough. "Terribly."
Jessie smiled bitterly, throwing another knife. This one landed in the wood point first with a thunk. "That seems to be about the average answer for this place. Zero stars. Do not recommend."
Celeste paused, blinking slowly. "That was not what I meant to say," she pointed out idly.
The dull, repetitive thunking was almost soothing.
Thunk.
Jessie looks at her, clearly bewildered. "But... you said it."
Another slow blink. Celeste looked Jessie in the eyes, tilting her head slowly. Everything about her was moving slow, actually.
"...so I did. That was a mistake."
Jessie finally turned to fully focus on Celeste, tilting her head right back. She could have passed for a funhouse mirror reflection of the Frost sister.
"When was the last time you slept?"
There was a long pause, and an even longer blink where it almost looked like Celeste had fallen asleep on her feet.
"...seventy six hours ago, judging by when the auditory hallucinations started."
"Dude," Jessie said in disbelief. "Go the fuck to sleep."
Celeste shook her head. "Can't." Never mind the fact that she'd been ignoring a distant, high-pitched alarm that only she could hear for the last ten hours. "She gets closer when I'm not there to fight it off."
Well that sounds like something someone sleep deprived and paranoid would say. "She? She who? Or is that like that movie that's a metaphor for STDs?"
"I..." there was a long pause as Celeste visibly fought through her confusion. "...have no idea what you are talking about."
"You know, that movie that came out in like twenty-fourteen. The girl has sex in the beginning and it turns out the guy was just passing on a demon that slowly follows a person until it kills them or it's passed on to another person through sex?" Jessie frowned, clearly thinking hard. "I can't remember what it was called though..."
Celeste blinked. Someone in the distance had started screaming, maybe? ...probably not, nobody else was reacting. And now her one source of conversation to keep her mind focused was talking nonsense.
"Jessie, what the fuck are you talking about?"
Jessie threw her hands up as if in defeat. "I don't even know. Go to bed, you're drunk."
There was no visible indication of anything happening, other than Celeste's bleary, unfocused gaze suddenly sharpening. Jessie turned away to throw another knife, smiling with grim satisfaction when it landed point first.
Is that your name? You do not really need that, do you?
She blinked a few times, shaking her head. "What?"
"What?" Fourteen blinked, her eyes flickering open. "Did you just ask me something?" Had she lost time? Distinctive auditory hallucinations weren't supposed to start for another two days.
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you know what? We're going in circles and you're useless to everyone if you're exhausted."
And with that, she rushed forward shoulder first at Celeste, catching her in the stomach and pushing her off toward the dorms. It was definitely bedtime.
(The next morning, the Fourteen that woke up was significantly more coherent, somewhat smarting over her wounded dignity, and ever so very slightly different than the one that Jessie had forced to sleep the night before.)
TW: Indoctrination, Sleep Deprivation, Identity Issues
A few days in captivity saw Celeste and... the Thing moved to the group housing. It was a brutally simple dorm-style room, with a couple of twin beds, some bathrooms, and a small food area. Someone had gotten cute and provided some bookshelves and books, and of course there was the obvious entire freaking gym off one of the doors in the communal den that doesn't lead to a bedroom. She would know. She had walked the entire place twice over at least a dozen times by this point.
There was a small part of her that appreciated how weirdly not-bad the entire setup was. It was immediately and viscerally smothered by the rest of her, which actually had standards.
For a lack of anything else to do, Celeste was spending time on the treadmill in the gym. The thing, she sat in a corner and stared at the wall. The less she had to think about it, the better.
Her alone time was interrupted by Jessie wandering in almost like a ghost. She wasn't really in the mood for cardio, though; instead she made her way to the knife throwing area, grabbing a set of knives and taking aim. She was still exceptionally bad at it, though. More often than not there was a clink and a low, "Oops."
Celeste didn't so much push the e-stop on the treadmill as she let her arm flop vaguely in its general direction and hit it mostly by pure dumb luck. She had been on the machine long enough that even walking across the room to where Jessie was felt vaguely like floating on a cloud, like her feet did not quite reach the ground with each step.
The Thing turned to look, just to make sure that 14 would be able to avoid tripping and falling. That was one level of embarrassment that she did not need.
"How are you holding up?"
Jessie threw another knife, scowling. Not at Celeste - just at her inability to make one stick.
"Living," she murmured, adjusting the next knife in her hand and throwing it. Clink. Sigh. "You?"
Fine enough. "Terribly."
Jessie smiled bitterly, throwing another knife. This one landed in the wood point first with a thunk. "That seems to be about the average answer for this place. Zero stars. Do not recommend."
Celeste paused, blinking slowly. "That was not what I meant to say," she pointed out idly.
The dull, repetitive thunking was almost soothing.
Thunk.
Jessie looks at her, clearly bewildered. "But... you said it."
Another slow blink. Celeste looked Jessie in the eyes, tilting her head slowly. Everything about her was moving slow, actually.
"...so I did. That was a mistake."
Jessie finally turned to fully focus on Celeste, tilting her head right back. She could have passed for a funhouse mirror reflection of the Frost sister.
"When was the last time you slept?"
There was a long pause, and an even longer blink where it almost looked like Celeste had fallen asleep on her feet.
"...seventy six hours ago, judging by when the auditory hallucinations started."
"Dude," Jessie said in disbelief. "Go the fuck to sleep."
Celeste shook her head. "Can't." Never mind the fact that she'd been ignoring a distant, high-pitched alarm that only she could hear for the last ten hours. "She gets closer when I'm not there to fight it off."
Well that sounds like something someone sleep deprived and paranoid would say. "She? She who? Or is that like that movie that's a metaphor for STDs?"
"I..." there was a long pause as Celeste visibly fought through her confusion. "...have no idea what you are talking about."
"You know, that movie that came out in like twenty-fourteen. The girl has sex in the beginning and it turns out the guy was just passing on a demon that slowly follows a person until it kills them or it's passed on to another person through sex?" Jessie frowned, clearly thinking hard. "I can't remember what it was called though..."
Celeste blinked. Someone in the distance had started screaming, maybe? ...probably not, nobody else was reacting. And now her one source of conversation to keep her mind focused was talking nonsense.
"Jessie, what the fuck are you talking about?"
Jessie threw her hands up as if in defeat. "I don't even know. Go to bed, you're drunk."
There was no visible indication of anything happening, other than Celeste's bleary, unfocused gaze suddenly sharpening. Jessie turned away to throw another knife, smiling with grim satisfaction when it landed point first.
Is that your name? You do not really need that, do you?
She blinked a few times, shaking her head. "What?"
"What?" Fourteen blinked, her eyes flickering open. "Did you just ask me something?" Had she lost time? Distinctive auditory hallucinations weren't supposed to start for another two days.
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, you know what? We're going in circles and you're useless to everyone if you're exhausted."
And with that, she rushed forward shoulder first at Celeste, catching her in the stomach and pushing her off toward the dorms. It was definitely bedtime.
(The next morning, the Fourteen that woke up was significantly more coherent, somewhat smarting over her wounded dignity, and ever so very slightly different than the one that Jessie had forced to sleep the night before.)
