Genexus (Empress Wen X Librarian)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by God Empress Wen, Apr 4, 2016.

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  1. The church located at the centre of the city was a massive white building placed on top of a wide step pyramid. Four spires reached up from the church grounds towards the dome above. The tall doors of the entrance inspired a certain respect in anyone who walked up the main stairs, or fear in those whom the templars forced to the church.

    The city itself was a busy and modern metropolitan, with neon signs and monorails, which made it seem dirty in comparison to the white church in its centre. The jarring difference between the two, old and new, was evident to everyone, but due to the church’s power within the city it could be difficult to tell which one didn’t belong. Was the church a remnant of old ways, or had it allowed the city to grow up around it? Was the city only tolerated as long as it obeyed the laws of the church?

    A pair of templars in power armors appeared at the base of the main stairs, red crosses visible on their chests, and between them they held a woman. It wouldn’t matter how much she struggled now that they had caught her disobeying the word of god, and the laws that the church had imposed upon the city. They carried her up the stairs, careful not to let her walk herself as some had resisted by refusing to walk at all and gotten dragged up the stairs. She looked small and insignificant next to their hulking frames. It wasn’t that they cared whether anyone got hurt before they had brought them before the inquisitors, but that the inquisitors themselves prefered to inflict pain on deviants to make them confess.

    The templars who guarded the tall doors opened them, and allowed the pair carrying the deviant to enter the church. The interior was the same white marble stone as the exterior, with a ceiling painted by a master and sculptures in gold stationed around the sanctuary. They turned away from the sanctuary, right, and went through another smaller door that lead to the prison cells.

    They locked the woman inside of a cell, and left her there. Half a day passed before anyone came to take her out, and when they did they brought her to an interrogation room. The room was simple, a table and two chairs, white walls. They strapped her hands in chains and made her sit in one of the chairs. The chains connected to a mechanism that could pull them back until the captured individual hung by their hands from the ceiling. It was a simple security measure.

    Two hours later another woman entered the interrogation room. Sigrid Von Zeiger was an inquisitor, and a rehabilitator. Someone they brought in to deal with hopeless cases. She exhibited an air of patience, and indifference. Her eyes were piercing, and made even the most pious turn away, as if they were afraid she could discover their worst thoughts. She could, if given enough time.

    Sigrid sat down in the empty chair, then put a folder and a recording device on top of the table. She straightened her hair, and eyed the other woman.

    “Do you have anything to confess, child?” Sigrid said with a tone devoid of emotions. “You’d make it easier on yourself. You are in my domain now after all, and I’ve broken tougher individuals than you.” A smile so faint that most thought they had imagined it showed on Sigrid’s lips for a second. “We could do it the hard way too, of course, if you would like that.”
     
    #1 God Empress Wen, Apr 4, 2016
    Last edited: Apr 4, 2016
  2. It wasn't the first time that Ridley had been taken away by the templars. If they let her go, which she knew that they would, it probably would not be the last of her trips either. She didn't fidget or try to get away from them, instead, she just was carried rather limply into the church. The templars threw her roughly into the cell that she now knew quite well and left her to be, one of them spitting at the ground near her feet. "Classy..." Ridley muttered as she glared at the two men angrily.

    The slam of a heavy door signalled their exit and Ridley sighed, staring up at the ceiling above her. The only light came from a barred window near the ceiling between the two cells. If she had to spend the night there it would be not good for her. Ridley claimed to not have many fears but darkness was one that she did not want to have to deal with whatsoever. Yet, who knew when the priests or priestesses would want to see her. She was at the mercy of their rule now. That thought had her rolling her bright eyes and letting out an annoyed sigh. There were so many other things she could currently be doing, yet, here she was being locked up for something illegal she had done.

    The way that Ridley put it... Well, it sounded better than the actual thing but it was still considered illegal. She took that thought back and stared at the wall. There were many things she did that were illegal but one of them was very bad. That was the reason she was there that day.

    Ridley liked the company of women. And by company she meant intimacy. Ridley really liked to be intimate with other women and for some reason that irked the higher ups that ran the city under the dome. What was the harm?

    She had certainly done worse things such as selling drugs and drug paraphernalia. Ridley had disturbed the peace more times than she cared to admit but the rules were petty and most of her disruption of the peace tickets were for "being too loud." It was always rich when she was told that.
    Ridley picked up an old ball and began to throw it at the wall. The hours passed by and she began to fade into a sleepiness that was swiftly overtaking her. It seemed as though she had just fallen asleep when the door opened once again and she could hear the jingling of keys. The door of the cell was thrown open, she was roughly tugged off the ground and forced to walk out the door and down another hall.

    They lead her into an interrogation room and tied her up securely. Ridley had a few sarcastic remarks for the templars before they left, one of them slapping her across the face. Ridley spit a bit of blood on the floor and winced. That would hurt later. Her eyes began to scan the room, curiously, wondering who was going to come and interrogate this time. She waited as patiently as possible until there was a creak and the door opened, a woman walking in. Her brow perked up. They had brought in a priestess? After what she had done? They were either really stupid or really smart... Ridley was not sure which. Her eyes glanced up at the priestess and she watched her as she made herself comfortable at the desk in front of her.

    "They haven't told you what I have done?" Ridley asked, just as resigned as the priestess was talking to her. "I can honestly say that surprises me ma'am. I feel like they should have told you, at the very least." She tilted her head to the side and her eyes narrowed slightly. "I also would like to believe that I have dealt with tougher individuals than yourself. Have you met Father Hougan? You would never know it behind those glasses but he is definitely a hardass."
     
  3. Sigrid thumbed the folder in front of her, as the girl spoke. Of course they had told her what she had done. It wasn’t about that. It was about getting the girl to confess guilt, or shame. Either willingly, or through the use of tools that Sigrid possessed. Tools that included both physical pain and humiliation. The kind of tools that Sigrid had practiced for years upon years, yet this girl thought she stood much of a chance against her? She tsked

    It seemed that from the looks of her, the templars had already worked the girl over some, despite the fact that they were told not too. Was she that annoying? Sigrid pitied her, and showed no reaction to her provocations. Father Hougan? The girl must have mistaken her for one of the clergy, and not realized she was an inquisitor. If she hadn’t met anyone like her before, it made sense that she would assume they’d send a priest, but Sigrid had never preached to a religious gathering or carried out religious services.

    “Oh, my mistake.” Sigrid said, and placed her hands in her lap. “Maybe if I’d introduced myself properly, you wouldn’t have gotten the wrong impression. I am an inquisitor, a member of the order, and not a priestess.” She broke eye contact with the girl only to nod in the direction of the folder on the table. “They’ve given up on you. I’m here because no one believes that you can be rehabilitated.”

    The crimes that the girl had committed were numerous, and this was her last chance to become a contributing member of their society. An outsider that needed to be brought to her knees, bow to the church, or they would have to discard her. The rampant homosexuality was her worst sin, but Sigrid didn’t feel uncomfortable in her presence. They had told her they could send a man in her stead, but she’d shrugged it off. The young who didn’t receive proper guidance were bound to stray, and it wasn’t the girls’ fault that they found solace in each other. The parents had failed them, and the city had allowed it to happen. She was there to clean up the mess in the name of god.

    “So I ask you again. Do you want to confess to your sins, and work towards bettering yourself, which would be the easy way to do this, or do you want to do it the hard way?”

    Sigrid knew that there was no easy way out for the girl, and that even if she showed remorse they would be stuck together until Sigrid said that she had accomplished her task. There was two ways it could be done, either she gave up on the girl and ordered her execution, or she stayed with her while she repented. The latter was a time consuming task, and Sigrid would need to constantly monitor the girl. Thankfully, they had plenty of apartments with camera surveillance where sinners such as this one could be locked in and watched.
     
  4. The tsk did not go unnoticed and elicited an interested expression from Ridley. She listened thoughtfully, nodding here and there as she feigned interest that wasn't really interest. In fact, she had heard this spiel so many times that she could probably recite it back to whoever the hell was giving it to her. The easy way, or the hard way. If she had money for every time that phrase was said in her presence she would be one of the richest folk in the city. It no longer really phased her. There was no hard way. There was a hurtful way. A painful way. What they really should have asked is, "How would you like us to torture you to get the answer out?"

    "Listen, Priestess," Ridley sighed in her spot. "If I confess to my sins, what will I have to do in order to repent? I have a job. I need to be able to make a living for myself by making money. So. Why don't I tell you what I did wrong and you let me go back into society? I know what I have done wrong and I promise I won't do it again." She promised, nodding her head in a way she hoped would convince the other woman. It was a fat chance that it would, but there was no use in not trying, at least for Ridley.

    "I have had same-sex relations with a woman. That is my sin, dear priestess." Ridley murmured softly. "Loving someone who has the same genitalia as myself. I don't really see the crime in love, but, you people tell me that it's wrong." There was a bit of emotion in her words now as she spoke, swallowing hard. "I am ready to repent." Which was a complete lie but she sold it well enough to get out of their as fast as she could. There would be people looking for her soon.
     
  5. Sigrid smirked when the girl called her priestess again. She’d just told her, less than a minute ago, that she was no priestess. This girl needed to learn to listen as well as repent. She opened the folder, and made a note of it as the girl went on. It was almost sad how inept the girl was at understanding the severity of her situation. She hadn’t necessarily thought that homosexuality made people stupid, even if others within the church had suggested such, but she could see how a belief like that might have begun now.

    She shook her head when the girl said that she wouldn’t do it again. She’d been here before, and made the same promise to individuals more eager to believe her than Sigrid. Then she called her a priestess a second time, and Sigrid’s expression darkened as she listened to the rest of the words that came out of the girl’s mouth. Oh, this girl knew what she was doing. Defiant little bitch, but she had more courage than most considering that she told an inquisitor to their face that she thought the church was wrong. The line between bravery and stupidity was thin though.

    Sigrid waited for a while after the girl had finished speaking, as if she expected more lies, then closed the folder and rose to her feet. She walked around the table, behind the girl in the chair, and grabbed ahold of the girl’s hair, pulling her up on her feet by it.

    “You do not have a job anymore. You are not a part of society until I say so, and if you suggest that the church is wrong again you will never be able to repent. People like you disappear, and no one asks any questions about it.” She leaned closer to the girl, to whisper in her ear. “Do you want to know the difference between a priestess and an inquisitor? A priestess prays for your soul when they execute you, so that it may be forgiven and not suffer eternal damnation. I’m the one who decides whether you get to live or die to begin with.”

    She let go off the girl, and straightened her own clothes. Sigrid grabbed the folder and recording device from the table. It had been on when she had put it on the table, and everything the girl had said was recorded.

    “At least you’ve confessed to your sins, but it’ll take more than a few cheap lies for me to believe you’re remorseful.” Sigrid said and headed for the door. “The templars will bring you to your new home. We will speak again soon.”

    She left the interrogation room, and ten minutes later a couple of templars showed up to bring the girl to the apartments that the church owned for the express purpose of making people repent. Sigrid would be able to watch the girl’s every move, and even communicate with her from her office. In time, they would try to let her back into society slowly, but Sigrid would be with her and she doubted it would happen any time soon with this one.
     
  6. Ridley grit her teeth together when her hair was pulled. That was certainly an effective way of getting her to listen. When her hair was let go and she took her seat in front of the table again, she wanted to reach up and massage her head but instead gripped the arms of the chair to keep them there. Her eyes were watering slightly but she quickly blinked it away. Templars were coming back? her jaw stayed gritted and she watched as the inquisitor left. Ridley spit at the chair angrily, not caring that she was probably on camera. Sitting back in the chair she stared at the door, waiting for the templars to come and get her.

    They arrived not long after, tying her hands behind her back so that she was unable to fight with them. With a hand at each of her arms they led her roughly out of the room and down the hall. The templars lead her through a few different hallways until she was pretty sure she would not be able to find her way out of the maze.

    At some point in their journey they entered a building and approached an elevator, one of the templars taking a card off his belt. He swiped it and a light went on above the elevator. A ding sounded around the room and the doors pinged open. The elevator was small and the two templars led her inside. They pressed a button labeled 2 on the wall and the elevator began to rise. There was complete silence between the three of them and Ridley needed to move her arm because the damn thing had fallen asleep on her. When she tried to move it the templar tightened his grip.

    Thankfully the ride was short and soon they were on the second floor. The doors opened and out they marched. The apartments looked like jail cells with bars over the door and locks up the ass. they moved down the hall two doors and the templar with the key card used it again. The door opened and they led her inside.

    Ridley looked around the room. It was all white with a bed, bathroom, desk, chair, small kitchenette, and a television high on the wall. "You will live here Miss Sharpe. For as long as it takes you to realize what you have done wrong and the inquisitor has been satisfied. Please don't make this harder on yourself. You will be given various privileges for good behavior. The kitchen is stocked and will be restocked in two weeks." The two templars had their fill of information and they left, locking the door behind her.

    There was a window across the room, also with bars over it. She could see the monorail from there and the city skyline beyond. They had to be looking for her... They had to be. She bit her lip, wrapping her arms around herself to try her best to stay calm. She walked over to the bed, knowing it was almost an appropriate time to sleep. Laying down on the bed she took off her jacket and slipped under the blankets. She slipped out of her jeans and and pushed them out onto the ground. It had been a long while since she had last slept in an actual bed. This one could have been the most uncomfortable in the world but it would do for her.

    Ridley turned onto her side and looked at the wall. She watched it as her eyes grew heavy and the lights got dimmer until it was dark. Her eyes fluttered shut and she sped off into dreamland.
     
  7. A templar told Sigrid that the girl had spat on the chair she’d sat in after she’d left, but she would let it slide this time. Perhaps the girl would get careless, and do things she wouldn’t have done if she thought they were watching her every move.

    She returned to her office to write a report of the girl’s interrogation, and watch her settle into her new home. It was eventless, as the girl crawled into bed and fell asleep. Sigrid spent the rest of her day watching her other delinquents, talking with other members of the order and performing another interrogation.

    It was a day like any. At the end, she went to her own quarters to spend the rest of the day in solitude. If any of the delinquents tried anything during the night, she would find out in the morning, or when the alarm went off. It only happened if they broke a camera or somehow managed to escape. The latter had never happened on her watch, but she’d heard rumours about another inquisitor it happened to.

    Her quarters were within the church itself, where those with the highest power lived. She had a window through which she could see the city, and the apartment block where her delinquents stayed, but large red curtains covered it up. Every inquisitor’s quarters consisted of a larger room where they could admit guests, and two smaller rooms that served as bedroom and bathroom. Sigrid’s quarters were the same red as the templar cross. It was a choice she’d made in the decoration. A couple of paintings hung on the walls, depicting strong women that had become icons within the church.

    Sigrid entered the bathroom and washed herself in cold water, to cleanse her body without suffering any of the pleasure impulses that warm water had brought her in the past. She prayed on her knees in front of a red cross after that, for about an hour, but most of it was meditation. It was a good way to unwind and relax.

    Her bedroom was empty and neat, with a bookcase in the corner and a double bed. The double bed was one of the few pleasures she afforded herself. No one other than Sigrid had been inside the room for as long as she had lived there. She fell asleep by lying down and taking deep breathes.

    The next morning, she returned to her office well-rested, clean and full. She watched the recordings from that night, fast-forwarding to speed the process up, and pausing when any of the delinquents did something questionable.

    Sigrid focused her attention on the girl from last night. They had the most work to do. The rest of her flock of delinquents had come further. She’d guided them for a longer period of time.

    “Good morning, Miss Sharpe,” Sigrid said, holding down a button to broadcast the message in the girl’s apartment. “Are we feeling less rebellious today?”
     
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