#risa oc

Reese came to hesitantly. The sleep that had taken him had been deep and did not release him willingly, nor he it. But consciousness called, a distant part reminding him that he wasn't supposed to be sleeping. That this was out of the ordinary. He moaned softly, head lolling to the side as he weakly attempted to rouse himself.

"The most basic of truth potions are actually rather easy to make." A voice he didn't recognize spoke. He forced his eyes open, and realized suddenly that where he rested wasn't comfortable either. He was in a chair, hands bound painfully tight with something unusually strong. And yet, the sleepiness still clung to him as a figure began to circle him.

"Mint, a couple fire toads, and ibis feathers. Boil the toads until they're heating the water on their own, toss in the mint. Throw out the water, but keep the heat on, kill the toads and let the mint boil in their blood for about thirty minutes, steaming the feathers above it. Slowly lower the feathers in, wait a bit, and you'll know when it's done because the feathers will disappear and the liquid will turn from red to clear." His eyes could barely focus, having difficulty trying to see who had captured him. Somehow, his mind wasn't moving. He couldn't think. The person stopped in front of him, and he felt a rough-skinned hand grip his chin, lifting it so his eyes were aimed at a face, darkened by a light behind it. 

"Mm. Time to wake up, Reese." She said, and the most awful smell suddenly entered his nose. All drowsiness fled in an instant, head rearing back, smacking against the back of the wooden chair. There was a laugh. "Oh my gosh, smelling salts were such a good investment…"

Reese looked around wildly, heart pounding, confused. His seat was in the bright light of a light overhead, all around him mostly darkness, though he could make out wooden crates here and there. Standing in front of him was a young woman. She was thin, and completely covered up by a metal bodysuit and a smooth, round, glass helmet. Not a single inch of skin or hair was visible, and he recognized her. Countless close calls and 'just missed' numbers, all dead at her hands. He strained against his bonds, but could tell it was futile. Had she used steel cable?

"Where am I?" He hissed, glaring up at her.

"Does it matter?" She shrugged. "The point is, I got you here, and you're going to answer some questions for me."

"What kind of questions?" He narrowed his eyes.

"About you, of course," She said sweetly. "Like who you work for, and how you keep showing up at the right place at the right time… all that."

"And you think I'm just gonna give it to you?" Reese scoffed. "That easy?"

"No." She replied. "I have something prepared for you--not a weak-ass little mint julep of a truth potion, but the real deal." She said, back into the shadows and dragging into the light a small camper stove on wheels. The round top was closed, smoke trailing from the vent on the side. 

"Truth potion?" Reese smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, of course…" He chuckled. The woman studied him. She had little antennae on her helmet, and now they were flattened on their own. 

"Now, like I said before," She turned to the darkness again, returning with a small blue vial of liquid. "A weak little truth potion takes mint, fire toads, and ibis feathers. I figured you'd be a stubborn one, so I went the whole five yards--king ibis feathers, real wasabi, blood of a wrongly convicted man, and," She opened the lid of the small grill, revealing a small pile of charcoal briquettes, glowing red hot. "A hot coal." Reese couldn't believe it.

He had woken up to find himself kidnapped by a freak. A freak who believed in magic. He sighed deeply.

"Alright, let's get this over with." He said quietly.

"I agree." She nodded, and turned. Using thinly-gloved hands, she picked up a red-hot coal without tongs, stepped over to him. She grabbed his nose faster than he could have prepared for, and he was suddenly opening his mouth. And being inserted into that mouth was the red hot coal. 

Reese did not often scream from pain, but he did this time. The coal touched his tongue and instantly seared it. He screeched in pain, trying to move away, but she held it there in his mouth.

Then, all at once, she removed it. He didn't have much time to appreciate the lack of heat when she poured the contents of the small, blue bottle into his mouth and then forcefully shutting it. He had hoped it had had some kind of a cooling effect, but it did not. 

The hot coal had seared off the first layers of skin away, and felt like it had cracks. The solution now going over it was, in no shape or form, any kind of relief. What he had thought was pain when that coal had rested on his tongue, it paled in comparison to this. Absolute agony was unleashed in his mouth and he screamed behind his lips. The woman's hands still gripped his head as he writhed and flailed in the chair, the flavor metallic and rotting, the pain indescribable. It clouded his mind, and he felt like he was shutting down, like he was dying. 

He grew weaker and weaker, the woman eventually letting go of his head, letting it loll back as he whimpered softly.

"Now, Reese," The woman now put her helmet very close to his face. "Tell me everything."

Reese felt paralyzed, like his tongue was too big and too damaged to do anything. His hearing had disintegrated to a dull roar, but distantly, oh so distantly, he could hear himself speaking. He couldn't understand what he was saying, but he knew he was speaking. 

He stayed like this for what felt like hours, like he was almost floating--no, falling, nonstop, unable to hear, to think, to feel. Then, all at once, like coming to an immediate stop in a fast-moving vehicle, he snapped back. The fog choking him disappeared and his senses snapped back so suddenly, his whole body jerked back violently. 

He sat there, gasping, glancing around blearily, feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. The woman was still in front of him. 

"It's always so fun to see that wear off." She commented, a smile in her voice. He noticed a syringe in hand, unused. "How was it?"

Reese didn't respond immediately. The pain in his mouth was still present, but fading. His tongue felt stiff, and like it was covered in thin sheets of glass. He spat, his spit black with soot. 

"What did you do to me?" He spat.

"Truth potion, as I said earlier. Truth hurts like hell when it comes up, but you always feel better afterwards." She shrugged, pulling the cap off the syringe. He leaned back.

"What's that?" He asked, swallowing.

"Sedative. While I know for a fact you can't and won't get out of my captivity, you super-military types can still be slippery." She took hold of his head, her grip surprisingly strong, and jabbed the needle in his neck. He winced, trying to fight, but the sedative was as strong as it was fast-acting. Sleep once again took hold of him and dragged him down into darkness. 

Risa held his head until a minute after he stopped moving, then let go, letting it rest against the chair back.