MD #183: Hard Not to Sympathize
Hard Not to Sympathize
Summary: After speaking with Atticus in the Recovery Ward, Lleufer Ynyr goes to check on Emily in the Brig.
Date: 08/10/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Antagonists
Lleufer Emily 
Brig, Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The battlestar's brig is comprised of a line of four individual cells organized in separate walled-off bays. Each cell is six feet wide by eight feet long and possesses a bed and toilet. Whenever even one cell is occupied, so too is the metal desk and chair at the entrance hatch — and backup for the guard is never far away. Each cell has had their bars specifically reinforced to prevent a Line member from being able to gain access or escape. Brig rules are posted behind the desk on a white panel with blocked black lettering.
Wed Apr 25 17:20:42 2049

Lleufer arrives, stopping to chat with his MP at the entrance and sign himself in to see their 'guest'. He himself is in his MP duty uniform with sidearm and his eyes and ears are in no way disguised now. After a moment he walks on down the corridor to her cell assignment and stops to see what his guest is doing. "Sorry about the lack of privacy. Food's probably not quite what you are used to either. Brought some of your luggage and some of your clothes are cleared if you would like them." Yep, he looks like a demon elf with weird eyes, but the voice is the same man who carried Atticus into the house dirtside. The Master-at-Arms leans against the corridor bulkhead and makes himself comfortable well outside of her reach, "My name's Lleu, btw."

Emily most sits without much to do. The log says there's a tablet in the duffel but she hasn't quite figured that out yet. Given that she's been living in a world where 'high speed' means someone stole a horse, that's no surprise. When someone approaches and she actually is addressed, her head turns. She blinks at seeing Lleufer and his mods but doesn't freak out. Eyes study them and she looks down. "Thank you so much for getting some of my clothes. I'm well aware you did not have to do that. As for food? I have not had much appetite. But what I have eaten is…" She hates it. This girl, Lady Emily of House Benning, has been eating off plates cleaner than anything on this ship for a long time. Royal chefs and cooks. While her people are starving, not that she would know much about it. Her eyes go back to him. "Please call me Emily. I think people of your Marines keep laughing at and making fun of my titles so I'd rather just be Emily, please." Straightening her skirts first, she rises from her seat on the bed and does a small curtsie for him. Very elegant. "I would like to know if Sir Atticus is badly hurt? No answers have been forthcoming."

The strange looking man studies her and listens to what she has to answer. "You are welcome. Your clothes are beautiful, and I do not doubt, made entirely by hand. It would be a shame to waste them." A few of her things might be kept back for Security concerns like say, hair pins. "Food's safe. We have no idea what your … dietary restrictions might be, but do not be afraid to ask for specific things and we can /try/ to provide them, if they are available." A polite nod to her, "Emily. It's true that we do not recognize the sovereignty of your house, but no one here should mock you. I'll make sure they know and respect it." As if he were in charge. MP's anyway. At her curtsie, Lleu smiles, "Forgive me for not bowing, but in my culture, we don't do that. Atticus's knee was blown out, but his surgery went very well. He should be back on his feet soon. He has asked about you. I told him I might take you to see him, if you desire it. He's not nearly as polite or friendly as you are, ma'am."

"They are made entirely by hand, for me. Any member of the royal family would demand that sort of quality and craft." Emily says it as if its just matter of fact. Those eyes are tired and she wants to smile, she just can't bring the energy to do it. There's a sudden urge for her to start a flurry of orders for food and restrictions and she stops, lips parted. No, she's thought better of that. "When my appetite returns I will make do." The whole thing begins to settle in more and her eyes avert down. "I sort of doubt my days of being bowed to are over." Turning, the cloak is held closed and she looks back at Lleu. "Sir Atticus is sworn to my family. He is a knight. He serves at the pleasure of our family and has been charged with my safety. To him, you are sworn enemies and vile beings that will kill me and my family and dishonor him in the process. I don't suppose you think of the Machines that way. …Atticus is a good man. I do wish I could help that be seen."

Ynyr gives her a slow nod about the food. "Oh, I don't know. I expect we'll question you a bit, and him as well, then return you both to the planet. We used to call it Picon, before the machines came in and took it over and killed a great many of us, and enslaved the rest." He shrugs, "We do want to know what's going on down there. Many of us have family who are missing. Your 'Sir Atticus' for example, he's the son of a man I used to respect a great deal. But your machines have filled him full of lies and he thinks we are monsters, and that his father was one too. It's rather sad." Lleufer draws a slow, deep breath, then slides down the wall to take a seat on the floor, getting comfortable. Who needs a chair? "I hope he is a good man, despite all the lies the machines have spun for him. His father was a hell of a good man, but he doesn't remember any of that anymore."

The girl keeps looking down and suddenly looks very, very ill. her color was already a bit on the pale side and that didn't help. Eyes closing, she speaks quietly, "If you're going to send us back, just send us back. Stop prolonging it. Sir Atticus will be thrown out for failing to keep me safe and probably killed by an assassin. I'll still be cleansed and married." Eyes open and she looks over. "I had hoped that Doctor Stone could secure us our safety but nobody will put this in writing. I suppose I see why. We are to be sent home. We are just your enemy." Her eyes drift back down. "Its because we are told you are monsters who hate and kill royals. That you are evil. Our rulership shall go forward and we shall be caring for our people unless you interfere. So the decrees go." The bowed head has that sense of defeat. "Someone once told me I had someone important to me aboard this ship. It was a long time, though, and I don't remember who or why anymore. But this has all put a terrible strain on my head and I have trouble knowing what was real and what was untrue."

Lleufer cocks his head as he listens to her. Idly he fingers a zipper on the inside of his combat boots. "That's not up to me to decide. When to send you back." He keeps his baritone low, conversational. "That is /assuming/ that you -want- to go back. Atticus certainly does. I for one .. wish like hell he wanted to be here. You aren't necessarily our enemy. It's the machines we call the Skath that we hate." He shakes his head, "Don't mean to endanger either of you by taking you, but we had hoped that Atticus /would/ want to be back with his own people. Guess I was wrong about that." Lleufer watches Emily and frowns, "Someone on board this ship. But you don't remember who? Doctor Stone, I assume she took a blood sample. It'll tell us if you are related to anyone on board, or who was in our military before the Skath took over our worlds."

/When/ she goes back. Its like someone get emotionally whipped. The phrasing is important but this is already taking a toll on her. "I have no desire to be returned to Picon. Atticus… is talking to his sworn enemies. Nobody will let me see him. He will relax if he believes he could be sent home. But he needs to understand it will not be easy when we are returned." The corset doesn't let her shoulders sag much and her decorum doesn't really let her but her right hand has started trembling so she tries to fidget it to hide that fact. "If it is true, that I have someone on this ship, you cannot tell me. Please make sure nobody tells me. Wwwhen I go back, during cleansing, they'll see this. They'll use it against me. Somehow. Anything we tell you, how kind you all have been to me, its all going to be twisted and perverted. It will be easier on us if we tell you nothing. So the question becomes whether or not we are your enemies, Mister Lleu. Do you hate us so much to interrogate us, get your answers, then send us home?"

Well, she's certainly gotten his full attention. "No. I don't hate you at all. I'd much rather free all of your people, if it was up to me. And if we were able to do it. But the Skath would crush us, as they did to those we were forced to leave behind." The thought of his eldest son strikes him with sudden pain of that loss, not knowing is Sean is dead or alive. On Picon, maybe. "If you don't want to go back, I will inform Command that you wish to stay. I don't make those decisions, Emily. I sure as hell don't want to send either of you back if you don't want to go, or if it would endanger you." Ynyr grimaces, "Atticus hates us though so how could we ever trust him not to try to do us harm? I can check, but I rather expect I can take you to visit him. Once his leg is better, he'll be moved into a cell in here anyway until it's decided what to do with you two."

"I think I would not know if my own people wanted have choice in their lives. Perhaps the elders who still remember, but the Machines and Clerics have killed many. People forget so easily." The last comment seems also attributed to herself. "Please tell your.. seniors?" She's unsure of the wording. "That I wish to stay. Please inform them Sir Atticus is undecided. I will speak with him as soon as able. If I'm returned, the Clerics helping my betrothed with their wedding will meet with me on arrival. He will put his hand on my head and I will die. I will be the slave to my husband that he desires, do whatever he wishes, and be a good little supporter of the Machines. I urge you to think about whether or not you would allow such a thing to happen to your own daughter on your watch. At one point I had a mother who loved me. I've nobody to speak to my defense except your crew I'm allowed to meet that treat me like a person, not a spectacle." Her eyes finally go back to him, doing her best to maintain her posture and composure. "Because he is a good man. He is.." Emily gathers something up in her mind. "Sender Fitelis." The words are wrong, but very close to Semper Fidelis. /Someone/ taught her that and she had to keep it close to her heart. "We, Atticus and I, are Sender Fitelis. But confused. We need time."

Wow. Lleufer thins his mouth hard at what they would do to her, and what she says if she were his daughter. "No." A firm denial, "They have my son already. I would rather he be dead than be a twisted thing serving them. Thankfully, he probably is long dead. Either way, I will probably never know." No by the Gods, no tears if he can help it. Give too much away. Lleufer shifts his jaw and draws a deep breath, "I'll pass on your requests." Then he blinks at what she tries to say. It almost sounds right, "Semper Fidelis?" Another quick blink and the Gunny gets to his feet. "Atticus' father was a Marine. A very good man. It is a saying we Marines live by. It means 'Always faithful'. I suppose you could say that we swear our service, much like the oaths of Knights, bound by a code of Honor. But not to any King. Our service is to our people." Maybe he's said too much.

"I would pray for your son, but I only know how to pray to the machines, Mister Lleu. I think you would rather me not do that for him. Many say they would rather die than become a slave." Emily looks down to her knees. "Very few people realize that to be controlled like this is not slavery. It is execution. One day you are speaking to your memories of going to school and telling some young royal girl, who will never see school, what it was like. And you inspire her. And you see her sadness at what was and is no more. Then a Cleric touches you and the next day you take great joy in seeing that royal girl slapped and beaten for her insolence. You laugh and mock those who think women have a place and physically beat anyone who says otherwise… and you enjoy it with a fulfilled heart, watching that girl thrown into a stone wall over and over." Emily isn't looking at anything in particular, just staring down. "That is not slavery. I do not know what that is. But it shatters the soul and heart." Her trembling hand starts up again and she covers it up with the cloak. "Mm, yes, Semper Fidelis. What I said." No what she said, but close enough. Her glassy eyes look over to him, "I want to be someone that my people believe in."

He has no idea what to say to this. Any of it. Emily has been full of surprises for him! Lleufer comes closer to the cell and puts his hands on the bars. She's not a cleric for him to fear being touched, though he's probably still out of reach anyway. The plain white gold wedding band gleams on his left ring finger. "My son would have looked like me, with strange eyes and ears. They killed the Arpay and anyone that looked like them. I'm sure he's dead, but I will see him again. Some day, or when I'm dead." Lleufer rests his head against the bars for a moment. He shifts his jaw and takes a step back, watching her. "I hope you are an honest woman, and not such a skillful, manipulating liar as to craft untruthes to try to make us do your will. If you /are/ telling the truth, we'll know soon enough." He drops his hands from the bars before he might invite some foolishness. "If you are literate and know how to read, I'll see that someone shows you how you can use the tablet, to read, and maybe make some film available to you. Until then…" Simple, harmless things about Picon as it used to be might be a safe subject.

Lleufer might be getting close to the cell door and leaning on it, but she keeps her place on the bed. "I'm aware. there are recent stories and rumors that your kind eat our insides. Vile Wood Elves. And if we catch one of you, you will offer to trade our first born child in order to grant us a wish. According to the stories you are evil and the Clerics protects us from you. Demons." She doesn't look at him. "I'v believed a lot. I'm not sure what to believe anymore. Did my mother actually die? Where is my father? …I hope your son died quickly and honorably." The last is spoken more quietly as her thoughts come full circle, finally looking back to Lleu. Still, no move towards the cell door. The idea of seeing people after she dies has her force a smile to her face, but it blanches away the more she thinks about it. The question of her integrity has her shake her head. "I don't care what you all believe or what someone else says. I don;t want to go home. I want to matter. I want some young girl to look at me and feel the way I felt at seeing that woman aim that rifle at me in the rain. My heart swelled with pride." Palermo was ready to blow her head off and Emily seems to get that, she just completely blinds everything else out. "If you don't believe me then just.. hate me. Send me back. One more royal voice praising the machines isn't going to make or break your ship or humanity." no more words about advocacy or wanting to matter. just cut and dry.

Her words keep him from leaving. Lleufer's barely turned away before he looks back at her and blinks. "I'm not a demon. I'm a man, like any other man. I was born with round ears and regular eyes, like you. I opted for these modifications. The Arpay helped us against the first machines, and tried to help us against the Skath as well, before they were killed." Surely he's said nothing the Skath don't already know. Careful about that. "Swelled with pride because another woman was a soldier, ready to kill you if she must?" Yeah, it's all strange to him, Emily's point of view. But, Lleu's never had to live her kind of life. "No. I would like to believe you. You are one of us, our flesh and blood. I wish you and yours no ill, except those who wish to destroy us. I'll pass on what you have asked."

"I am fairly sure you are not a demon, Mister Lleu. No more than Missus Miri. I just know what I have been told. Realizing that there's so little truth in your life means you stop just listening to what you are told." Her hand seems to stop shaking and she looks over to him. "My mother told me that I was but a year old when the Machines arrived. I know no other life but the one I am forced to live. And yes, pride at seeing a woman move as a man does. To fight. To matter in a moment, to be more than a decoration or useful for children. Remember where I was going, Mister Lleu." He is on his way out and he may not even hear her last. "I smiled because I would never make it to my wedding if I were dead."

No, he stopped before he took more than a step or two because she clearly still had more to say. He is a man willing to listen to her, as if what she has to say has value and is worth taking his time to hear. Turned fully back, Lleu smiles a little, "I'm Lleufer Ynyr. Gunnery Sergeant Lleufer Ynyr. I'm sure the Skath already know the names of every person who was assigned to this ship and lots about me I'd rather they didn't know. Women here have much to contribute. And we value them all the more for it. As well as for the children they give us. Nobody could ask for a greater gift." He glances back towards the MP desk up the corridor that she can't see before he adds low. "Nobody here is going to make you marry anybody you don't want to. That at least I can promise, if you stay. For now, rest easy and welcome to the Orion, Emily." Yeah, he better go. Before he starts making her some stupid promises he might not be able to keep. Gotta keep his head screwed on straight. Ynyr walks on back to the corridor hatch and signs himself out, noting the time. A moment later the hatch opens and seals closed behind him and he's gone.

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