With a cold look in his eyes, Ryan told her; “That is Mr Darby to you, until He says otherwise.” After making sure Irene knew the seriousness of the situation, he smiles, “Mr Darby is currently in an important meeting with associates, and can not be disturbed.”
Glancing around the infirmary again, “You will only have one chance to impress Him, make it count. Towards the end of dinner you can approach Him, if He invites you to sit, do so, if He does not, walk away, He will contact you. Do you understand?”
“Remember Miss Kalypsen, towards the end of dinner,” Ryan smiled, glanced at the clock on the wall, “you have one hour until dinner begins,” so saying, he turned and left with Ger out the door of the infirmary.
Irene sighed and laid back down oh her bed, careful not to put too much pressure on one of her bruises. She passed the hour by sneaking glances at the nurse when she wasn’t looking.
John McVerna was sat at the table, eating lunch. He was so bored as the cycle of the day kept repeating itself. Two rugged men walked past, both of their hair grey. John McVerna walked over to them, which caught the attention of a guard, who just stood there.
“F*ck you looking at, hobo.” One of the guys said. With that, John McVerna retaliated in his usual untrained style, punched the guy in the face and grabbed the other guys legs and slammed him onto the table. John McVerna raged vigorously.
Almost instantly the guard ran over, calling assistance through his walkie. Within less than a minute, there was 12 guards on the 3 men. It took 5 guards to detain John McVerna, as he was very strong.
“Give this psychopath no food for all of today and tomorrow. That’ll teach him. Punk.” A guard spat beside John McVerna’s face. All 3 prisoners were thrown back in their cells and locked away.
Pearson had just received a pale coloured gruel that was supposedly porridge when the kerfuffle broke out behind him. He decided to remain a bystander, as the prisoner in question appeared mentally disturbed, and as the two other prisoners accompanying him were also dragged away he thanked his good judgement. Pearson went to sit at a table only occupied by one other inmate, whom was simply gazing into his food and didn’t even look up, before digging into his own bland, starchy meal.
Joe sat at his normal table in the dinning hall, with his back to the wall. The table in the corner that comanded a complete view of the room. He just shook his head at the ‘entertainment’ that just happened.
“That one has no control,” he said shaking his head. His posse just nodded in agreement. “Oh well, back to this oh so wonderful meal.” he said with contempt.
Irene, fresh from the infirmary, sat nervously, eyeing the man she was meant to contact as she gagged on the sludge on her plate. She decided she wasn’t hungry and left the plate for some other, more desperate inmate to have.
She got up and slowly padded towards Joe Darby, unsure of what to expect. The scalpel she’d taken from the infirmary poked and prodded her thigh from it’s unstable perch within her left pocket.
Joe watched as Irene walked over to his table. Watching her with his cold eyes, assessing her, seeing how nervous she is, noticing how once in awhile as she walked, she would touch her left pocket.
When Irene got to the table, Joe just stared at her. His posse quieted up and glanced at her, some with open lust filled leers.
After a couple minutes of silence as Joe noticed Irene’s nervousness mount, he smirked, “Have a seat Miss Kalypsen. Tell me, what can you do that I would find useful? According to Ryan here you have ‘mad skills’. Impress me.”
Before she could say anything, Joe continued, “oh by the way Miss Kalypsen, if what ever you have in your left pocket is used against me or mine, you will be dead before you hit the floor.” He stated with a smooth cold calm certainty.
William Eresug looked up. I guess they hated me so much they put me here, he thought. Of course, he knew it was more than that. After running a successful pyramid scheme, embezzling the military’s funds, and fleeing to Charton, he was extradited and put here.
He knew that they would make sure he wouldn’t escape. After all, it’s called Detention Island. Even though it probably violated the human rights laws back home, they had sent him here. He sized up the architecture of the thing. Despite the formidable precautions, he noticed quite a few flaws. But what could he do? If he escaped, the whole Urth would look for him.
He had hacked the computer containing the court documents (which added a few more years to the sentence) and knew that the government had requested that he would be kept in a cell the size of two king-sized bed, and that he would have a few rights as well. He would have the privilege of using a very limited computer (incapable of hacking) and he could keep teabags (he could not, however boil water in his cell).
He knew that the Staynish government would probably not deliver on it. A prisoner is a prisoner is a prisoner.
He was escorted off the boat and to the prison by 3 armed guards. One of the prison guards looked up. “This the special prisoner?” he asked. “Yep.” replied the lead guard. “I’ll take him from here.” said that guard.
He was led down many corridors, zigzagging through a labyrinth of floors (probably to keep him from escaping) to the custom room. The promises had been delivered.
It wasn’t much, though. It was still very dirty, and the tea was terrible. But it would have to do.
“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.”
— End quote
Gregori quickly polished off the last of his meal before responding. “She got into a tangle with a guard, or so I’ve heard.” He politely mopped his mouth with his napkin. “Did you happen to see which men were carrying her? Guards or inmates?”
Williams looked through the bars on his cell door, and saw an Atlantic man in hancuffs being pushed through the halls. He thought, “Well, I’ll give him the introductory experience. When it is yard, anyway.” He absentmindedly kicked at his prison door, and took out a spoon. This was going to get interesting.
Irene almost told the lie, but somehow knew he’d know. She blushed and gave up the act, pushing the scalpel away from her, handle towards Darby, and began again; This time with a slight tinge of confidence in her voice. “Y-your associates, they… they didn’t exactly make you sound warm ‘n’ fuzzy. S-sorry.”
Stop digging yourself into this hole and tell him 'bout yourself, you moron.
“I-I can make things. Electrical systems, and simpler electronics, that’s my specialty. Sir,” the words finally got out. “I want to leave here- to go home. Sir.” She folded her arms behind her back and stared at the laces on her shoes.
“From what I understand, yes. I do believe that most of the guards are loyal to him, as well.” Gregori took a final gulp of his drink. “I was hoping to have made his acquaintance by now, as he’d be a dangerous adversary and a powerful ally.”
Lurin realized that there was only one way out of this prison: Darby. Even that isn’t guaranteed either, as that man seemed to be quite volatile at times. “What an ally he would be. Getting in and out would be easy- well relatively speaking. We need to get him to trust us if we want to get out.” Lurin lowered his voice so only Gregori could hear, “What say you, Gregori? You wanna devise a plan?”
(OOC: That last sentence is mediocre at best, but you get the gist of it, right?)
“I’ve been trying to create one for a little while now,” Gregori replied, voice similarly lowered. “Perhaps my position in Sem’ya could be used to our advantage.” He trailed off for a second. “Of course, it would help if I knew if Darby has any past affiliations to any gangs, mobs, criminal empires, i tak daleye.” A moment’s silence followed as he realized that he had lapsed into Strataric. “And so on,” he translated for Lurin.
“Well, being from the royal family, I do know a few people who could help us out. We get phone calls here, right?” His old butler had complete and total access to all Intelligence within the former Kostuv Territories, and Lurin was sure he’d be able to supply some useful information about Darby.