Irene returned to her cell, giving dirty looks to any cameras she passed.
When lockup time came, the guards shoved Williams into the cell, not without his infamous cursing.
He looked sulkily through the bars, occasionally kicking them. He hated being confined, and he hated not being able to injure/kill anyone (He isn’t the nicest person in the world). And of course, he hated the people imprisoning him. (OOC: Really cheery, huh)
Gregori nodded. Somewhere, a bell or some such device rang. “Ah,” he said glibly, “back to our own private hells we go. I’ll be seeing you, my friend.” Two guards came, seized him, and led him away.
Lurin replied, “See yah later, then.” Lurin was escorted to his cell, a surprisingly less damp and dank room he had imagined. Nonetheless, it was still disgustingly dirty. There was a single barred window at the back, and, to his relief, only one bed. He laid his head down, and went to sleep.
Irene’s room for the past year was as clean as she could get it. She’d always been organized back home; that translated to what must have been the least grimy cell in the whole place. She slid back the lose brick she’s steadily hollowed out over the many months; behind the carved shell was an impenetrable metal shell that encased the whole cell block. She was stuck in.
But, she had a few tricks up her sleeve.
A guard, Stevens, and his buddies had given her shit since she arrived here. Now it was time for that to stop. With a strip of tape she made an insulated handle on the metal knife, then she took her battery and connected it to the knife with three scraps of wire and aluminum. Voila, an electrified knife. It might not even break the skin, but it’d be better than nothing. She took one contact off the blade to save the battery for when she needed it. After all, there was a new batch of pretty shady guys in today, and of course, Steven’s weekday shift. She hefted the knife in her right hand and stuffed it into her waistline. Try and have your way with me now, you bastard.
Satiated for the moment, Joe sits on his bunk while his bitch is on his knees taking care of Joe’s two bodyguards. Joe opens up his recent letter he received from his contacts. Reading the missive written in the traditional Dragonian Script, he easily decodes the encryption, considering he’s the one who created the cryptography for it in the first place.
To anyone else reading it, the letter would be from his ‘banker’ about his extensive finances he still has access to. Joe gives off an evil chuckle as he decodes it.
“Good news boss?” grunts the one bodyguard as he finishes up with the kneeling bitch.
“Oh yeah,” Joe evilly smirks as he watches the other bodyguard use his bitch. “Soon boys, soon, this place won’t know what hit them,” he leers as he watches the scene in front of him. Hearing the bell/buzzer indicating that the prisoners need to return to their cells, “hurry it up bitch! The boys need to get back to their cells.”
As he watches, Joe thinks to himself, “soon, I can get out of this hell-hole,” as his bitch finishes off the bodyguard, “do I bring the bitch, or kill him? That is a good question. He does have very useful computer skills, considering he was able to hack into the GDM Computer. System[note]GDM = Grand Duchy Military[note] One of the most secured computer systems on Urth.” Continuing to think as he watched his posse leave the cell. “Maybe I will, he is starting to grow on me, like the good little pet he is. He does keep me satisfied too. I’ll have to think upon it some more.”
He flicks a lighter and burns the note, when he can’t hold it anymore he drops it in the commode and flushes it.
Snapping his fingers he points to the bunk, Joe smirks as his bitch gets into position on the bunk. The buzzer goes off again as the lights go out.[edit_reason]Verbiage[/edit_reason]
Pearson lay back in his bed staring directly up at the ceiling, occasionally knocking on the wall and trying to work out how tough it was. His train of thought was interrupted by a buzzing alarm and the clang of the cell door as it closed on him.
“Oh what a shame, didn’t even get to meet and greet with the local retards,” He mumbled sarcastically under his breath, tapping gently against the stained wall a few more times and slipping slowly into sleep.
The guards brusquely led him down a long corridor. Near his cell, Gregori tripped and fell. One of the guards kicked him before they both grabbed his arms and roughly heaved him up and shoved him into his cell.
Gregori stood and smirked. He may or may not ever leave, but at least he could defend himself now. Pulling out his new knife, he examined it.
I hope that guard doesn’t miss it, he thought. Though he doubted it’s original owner would ever notice it was gone, considering how easily Gregori had filched it when the guards had hauled him up.
Lights out time came quickly. Stevens and his goons hadn’t shown. Must’ve bitched out, heh.
Something that sounded like… Moaning? It wouldn’t be the first time two cellmates had… done it… in here. Not like there was much else in the way of fun in this place.
Irene carefully disassembled her knife and re-stashed the components. She added to her stash a pair of pens and a disposable camera she’d found in a wastebasket earlier that day. These idiots don’t even know what they’re throwing out.
Her hidey-hole concealed, she flopped back onto the hard cot and tried her best to sleep for the night.
The next day, after taking care of his morning routine. Joe sat on a table in his usual place in the south yard watching the dregs of society go by.
“There he is,” Joe thought as he watched his target enter the yard. Yared Zuberi a native mercenary of Matamba from the continent Gondwana. A tall (6’ 6") muscular brute of a man. With skin like ebony, and large hands that could crush the skull of any lesser man.
They both make eye contact, eyes narrow at each other. Joe gets up and starts walking toward the Matamban, his posse following. Yared walks, no … he moves more like a predator stalking his prey as he strode across the yard toward Joe.
Joe notices out of the corner of his eyes that the other prisoners ‘casually’ move out of the way making room. He smirks as he notices some of the guards tense up.
By the time Joe makes it to within ten feet, his posse stops, but Joe continues on until he stops about a foot away. “Long time Yared Zuberi,” he sneered in native Matamban.
“Joe Darby,” Yared growled back in the same language; “they finally caught you?” He laughs, “you, who said would never be caught alive?” He paused for a second, smirking he said; “what? They catch you with your pants down?” He put his hand up to forestall Joe answering. “Never mind, knowing you, they probably did just that,” he laughs.
Joe just smirks and laughs, “oh but the @#$% was worth it,” he leered.
They both tense up like they where about to throw down … …
The moment Lurin woke up, he felt a sharp pain all along his back. It was obviously due to the drastic change in bed quality that caused the pain. He’d also woken up a few times during the night, and one of the times heard the sound of someone nearby grunting and what sounded like skin rubbing (OOC: Guess what that is, boys and girls?). Thankfully, Lurin was too tired to be affected by it, and was able to go back to sleep.
Nonetheless, the pain in his back was starting to get agitating, so he sat up on his bed. He looked around, and noticed everyone was gone. Must be time to eat or something. He got up, and tried to open his prison door, but found it was sealed shut. Oh fuck, I missed breakfast! I like breakfast… I guess I’m stuck here until lunch, then.
Irene collapsed in a heap. Her knife’s power-pack was smashed, the handle itself splintered into plastic litter that was strewn about the hall. Her right eye bled from where she had been hit. Stevens and his gang leered over her, occasionally delivering a boot to her stomach or a stomp on her legs.
“Fuck.” She spat out a mouthful of blood.
“You.” She dragged her feet under her and rose to one knee.
“You useless. Stinking! Piles of foxcrap!”
She hauled off and swung one last fist at Steven’s face. It left a small red bruise next to the only cut she’d managed to give him with her knife, but it wasn’t enough. The huge guard to Steven’s right caught her by the waist and flung her into the wall. She slumped over amongst the dust and fell unconscious atop a small splotch of her own blood. The last thing she saw was another inmate walking up to Stevens.
“Heh… eallp… Me…”
Coming back from the prison library, Ryan noticed a few guards roughing up an inmate, on getting closer, he spies it’s that woman Joe found interesting the other day. Sighing, he thinks to himself, “Joe’s going to punish me for this.”
“Stevens,” Ryan begins in a ‘posh’ flawless Codexian, “may I enquire as to what you are doing?”
Stevens turns with a snarl on his lips, “Hunt, this is none of your concern, so fuck the fuck off!”
Raising an eyebrow at the crude language of the guard; “I do beg to differ Stevens,” Ryan stated, “Darby has expressed his interest with this one,” he gestured to the unconscious woman.
Swing his arm back as if he was going to backhand Ryan, Stevens paused as there was a discreet cough back down the hall. Glancing back, he noticed one of Darby’s posse ‘casually’ leaning against the wall give Stevens an intense look, and a slight shake of the head.
Looking back at Ryan’s impassive face, “Bah! Your not worth it Hunt.” Stepping back, “come on guys, their not worth it. Let’s leave the two pussies.”
Ryan sighs with relief as he lets out his breath when Stevens turns the corner out of sight. Motioning to his fellow Dragonian, “Gerrard, come on, help me get her to the infirmary.”
With a grunt, “move, I’ll carry her,” Gerrard said as he carefully lifted her up in his strong arms.
“Thanks Ger,” Ryan said with a smile, “your the best!”
Ger snorted, “you owe me one,” he joked as he openly ogled Ryan’s arse.
“Yeah, yeah, not a problem, you know I like ya’ big guy,” Ryan flirted. He looked down and squatted to pick up the shank, and smashed power pack and put in his pocket, “Joe will be interested in this,” he said.
Both, Ryan and Ger made it to the infirmary, a lot of the inmates they passed, stepped out of the way when they noticed who was who. Others, just shrugged, thinking ‘none of their business’.[edit_reason]verbiage[/edit_reason]
As she was being carried, Irene regained some consciousness in burst of frantic motion that almost got her dropped. “Ah! Who… Hunt. Thank you…” She mumbled. “I… I think I can walk-”
The knife.
“Fuuck!” She cried. “Fuck, shit, fuck! My knife…” She saw the battery in Hunt’s hand and relaxed. “Oh, thank fuck you’ve got it. I- I don’t want to trouble you anymore, I’ll just get that back and on my way. Not that not grateful for your help… Or anything…”
“Well it is a little to late for that Miss Kalypsen,” Ryan began as he put the knife and batteries in his pockets. “Mr Darby has expressed an interest in you.”
Gerrard gave a soft snort of amusement at that statement, while still carrying Irene.
“Gerrard, play nice with our new friend.” Ryan said in Dragonian.
With that, they turned a corner and came to the guards outside the infirmary doors. “Hello boys,” Ryan said, looking the guards up and down with a slight smirk, “Miss Kalypsen here, had an accident and is in need of medical attention, will you grant entrance?”
The guards looked over Irene’s bruised, bloodied, and battered face and the one guard #2 opened the door. Guard #1 asked; “how did she get hurt?”
Ryan looked Guard #1 in the eye and simply said; “she fell,” he paused, turned to look at Irene’s face, “repeatedly.”
“I’m sure she did,” was Guard #1’s sarcastic reply.
Gerrard carried Irene into the infirmary into the tender mercies of the nurse in charge. Ryan followed, giving Guard #2 a wink as he passed through the doors.
“Hellooooo Nurse!” Ryan said with a smile.
Irene flirted incessantly with the woman who wrapped her wounds and applied a towel to her bleeding lip, who eventually got tired of being hit on and wandered off to another patient.
“So, um, what… what do you need from me?” She asked when the two Dragonians returned. “I… um, if you’re tryn’a get some personal time with me, I mean, I don’ swing that way, sorry…”
The knife, you idiot.
“Or, or, but I could make some stuff, if I had the right materials! That’s… I can do that!” I mean, imagine the shit I could get away with if Stevens didn’t try to kill me every time I tried to swipe fucking tin-foil. “You’re not… you don’t think we could…”
She glanced around and lowered her voice to whisper instead. “…We could, um, get out, could we?”
“Look who finally woke up.”
Lurin snapped out of his thinking, and noticed a prison guard in front of his prison cell.
“The warden for some fuckin’ reason thinks we have to protect you degenerates, so he told me to keep an eye on you while you slept. Because you decided to sleep in, I had to eat ‘supervising’ you, as the warden calls it. I’m gonna bash your head in one day, but I got a family to feed, and this place is full of CCTV. Now get the fuck outta your cell before I stop giving a shit about my family.”
Lurin left the cell very wary of the guard. Very hungry, he went to the chow hall when he saw a group of people carrying the woman he swore to stay on the good side of. Shit, she’s taken quite the beating. Was it the guys carrying her, or are they helping her? Lurin couldn’t tell whether to help or not, and thus continued to the chow hall where he noticed the Stratarin guy who had greeted him the day before. Everyone had finished their food except him and a few others, and thus grabbed some grub and sat by the Strat.
“Hey, Gregori right? I was walking down the hall from my cell, and saw a group of men carrying that Emberitian. Do you know what happened? She was beat shitless, from what I can tell.”
Snorting in amusement, Ryan looks Irene up and down, “Miss Kalypsen, your missing the ‘dangley’ bits I enjoy,” he winked at her.
Ger chuckled at that, “ain’t dat da truth.”
“Hush you!” Ryan smirked.
“As for Stevens, his,” he paused and leaned in whispering, “life expectancy is coming up short.” Leaning back and continued on in a quiet voice; “Mr Darby will deal with that buffoon.”
Pausing to collect his thoughts, “I looked up your records Miss Kalypsen, that is where I was coming from when we found Stevens and his merry band of misfits beating on you. I am positive Mr Darby can use your talents.”
Looking around he lowered his voice, “as for the ‘get out’ you mentioned, you would have to talk with Mr Darby, I can neither confirm or deny such questions.”
In the yard, the stand off between Joe Darby and Yared Zuberi was tense.
They stared at each other, daring the other one to move first. Then it happened, Yared smirked and they both moved, clasping forearms. With smiles and laughs, they bumped shoulders and pounded each other on the backs in a show of macho-manliness.
Joe’s smirk comes back as he noticed the guards sigh in relief.
“Come my friend, sit with me,” Joe motioned back to his usual table. Once they got there, “tell me, how has the work progressed on that mission?”
“Soon, soon, I would say within one week [note]<font color=”#ee4a2d">7[note] everything will be in place</font>." Yared quietly told Joe with a smile.
With an evil laugh, “Glorious chaos,” Joe whispered.
“Oh. Okay, yeah. Uh-um, I’d be happy to work with you all, sirs…”
She bowed her head and sighed in relief. “I… I honestly just want to go home.” She confided.
“I wanna go home…” She looked up, a hopeful gleam in her eye now. “So I’ll help your team with everything I’ve got.” She smirked. “Just wai’ till ya see what I can cook up.”
“You think we could see Darby?”