<h4>Out of Character</h4>Who: http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=12(Okkatteiru) Stormwing</a> and http://shadowlack.com/persona.php?id=1Kakosenas Shriker</a>. What: Part III of a (ground-breaking) secret plot. Where: The Krokino Prison. When: Evening, Dyo Days 49, 50, Year 81379 (5). Rated: PG-14. <h4>In Character</h4> Qythou Qunat was one of Krokino's leading wardens, and as he escorted the young Stormwing up the dank prison corridor, his grip was firm on her arm. He didn't speak to her, or push her, or otherwise interact with her. He simply grasped her arm with one hand, and gingerly guided her up the hallway. Even though the thill had only known him for a few hours — she had been sitting with him in the reception room of the prison while her forms processed and she was assigned a set of clothes, a number, and a cell — she knew he was a strict but fair arden. He demanded respect, but didn't seem the type to abuse his prisoners. It really was just her luck that she was assigned to his block, D-Block, and that she'd be under his "care" for the duration of her sentence. Just three days ago, Storm had stalked Koani Grader down, beaten her senseless, and then been arrested without protest. She had done it because Koani had unfairly imprisoned her best friend. Now they were both in prison, and neither had been given a trial, nor an official sentence. But that was all right. While Winger had been sitting with Qythou in the reception room, her acute ears had overheard a broadcast coming from the wardens' lounge area. She'd heard the news anchor's report about her actions, and had perked up with interest as the arden's voice had gone on to mention that thousands of Janardan students were rallying in support of her cause. This gave the banded female a hope that, though her crimes had been quite serious in nature, she might still go free, and Kakos, too. If enough pendragons supported here, Koani would be forced to admit her mistakes, and everything would come undone for her. Trying not to smile at the thought, Stormwing allowed Qythou to lead her to the end of the hall. They then turned left, onto D-Block. Jail cells lined either side of this hallway, and a shiver passed up the femme's spine. She was not exactly a "hardened" criminal, and this place was definitely going to test her. Especially so because she was a "celebrity" now, and the other convincts would either treat her especially well, or especially badly, for this reason. She quashed her tensions, though, and followed the warden's touch, until he held her back. They'd reached her cell. He easily unlocked it with an electronic key, then motioned for her to step inside. Once there, he stepped in after her. Only long enough to undo her handcuffs, hand her her outfit, and give her a number card to pin to her shirt. Then Qythou backed out of the cell, locked it, and sauntered away to other duties. White-tipped ears listened to his fading footsteps, then Winger warily eyed her new quarters. It was extremely dark, but it was spacious, at least. She estimated it at being about fifteen feet wide and ten feet deep. Surely smaller than her usual place of living, but it was better than the hole in the wall she'd expected. Tossing her threads on one of the four bunks that lined the walls, she sighed, and sank down onto the threadbare cot. Though she didn't expect to be here long, any amount of time in this dank cell might affect her head. She'd try her best not to go mental. She was about to pull her shirt over her head and change in the prison garb, when Storm felt a hot puff of air on her ankle. She wouldn't have noticed, except for two reasons: it caused her sore puncture wounds to throb with uncomfortable heat, and, she was pretty fucking sure this room didn't have central heating. "WHO'S THERE?"
Kakosenas breathed slowly and quietly. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the dark. This cell had been her home for the past few days now. It was actually quite a bit bigger than the usual hole that Kakos bedded down in for the night near Janardan... Though it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as that hole, nor any of the other small dens Shriker had claimed as her own. The cell appeared to be clean… the smell of antiseptic had burned her nose when she had been first introduced to it. It wasn’t nearly as clean as it appeared to be upon further inspection though. Old stains could still be found on the floors… and every now and then there was a rare grain of sand or grit to be found. On her first night in the cell, Kakosenas had scoured over every inch of the place in a manic episode, collecting grain after grain and then depositing it into one of the corners by the cell door. The task had taken her hours, specially with her talons not wanting to cooperate, but it had given the violet tufted female something to do. She’d been given meals regularly, and of course, there was water. Kakosenas could find no comfort in the water though. This place somehow nullified the effects of her magic. So the water didn’t beckon to her. It didn’t tell her secrets, nor could Kakosenas herself interact with it. Just having to drink it seemed so mundane and left her heartbroken. On the second day Kakos’ attention had turned to the mattresses. She counted the amount of threads that made up their weavings, and then when curiosity finally got the better of her, she tore one apart. There had been small hard hunks of fluff and stuffing everywhere. That destroyed mattress had been removed though and the cell once again thoroughly cleaned and searched. Along with the hunks of fluff, Kakosenas’ pile of grit had been removed as well. Kakos didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye to it. Having grown bored with the cell, Shriker’s attention had turned onto herself. She combed through her fur, looking for various items of interest, but finding nothing really aside from a few burrs (which she ate out of boredom). All of her belongings, all of her little trinkets, had been confiscated from her along with her clothes. Now, here she was with itchy prison garb. Kakosenas hated the clothes and had for the past few days continued to strip them off of herself. Apparently this was not acceptable though, for each time Shriker was caught having shed the prison clothes, she was forced back into them. That was only if she was caught though… What Kakosenas hated the most were the scheduled exercise times. She hated all of the other prisoners with a deep undying passion and refused to talk to them… save for the odd snarl if someone came too close, or a squeal if someone made as if to hurt her. This particular evening found Kakosenas holed up underneath one of the cots. It was here where she felt the safest and also where she could slip partially out of the prison clothes without being seen and reprimanded. While re-counting the coils on the bottom of the cot, Shriker’s ears were alerted by the approaching noise of feet. The first one’s gait she easily distinguished as Qythou Qunat’s. She’d become acquainted with him rather early on. Shriker found it amazing how even the sound of his footsteps had a ring of authority to them. The second pair of pattering feet, who could only belong to another prisoner being shown the way, Shriker was unsure of. Whoever it was walked just like Stormwing. It couldn’t be her though. The footsteps stopped outside of her cell. Kakosenas pressed herself against the wall and held her breath. Then the cell was opened. Shriker noticed Mr. Qunat’s feet, and also a pair that appeared to be identical to Stormwing’s. Brown and white banded at the ankles. Then Qunat was gone, leaving this new prisoner in the cell with her. Still Kakos remained hidden, watching the other’s feet as she inspected the room for herself. Eventually the other prisoner sat on top of the cot which Shriker was hiding under. The mattress depressed slightly, also letting out a small cloud of dust. Kakosenas shied away from it, lowering herself even closer to the floor. Remaining quiet, Shriker slowly edged herself towards the pair of feet that lay just beyond the confines of the cot. They sure looked like Stormwing’s. Kakosenas was edging even closer when she heard the words, “WHO'S THERE?". She froze. It sounded like Stormwing. Could it really be her? “It is I…" Kakosenas breathed quietly. “But is it you?" Not waiting for a response, Kakosenas’ left arm snaked out to test the solidity of Winger’s left ankle. Her talons wrapped around it briefly before she recoiled and edged as far under the cot as she could get. This figure in the cell sure seemed real. It appeared to be Stormwing. Kakos didn’t think she was at the point of hallucination just yet… but could it be a trick? How could Stormwing come to share a cell with her? It was implausible.
"It is I... but is it you?" As soon as she heard the familiar voice, which seemed to wrap around her head and into her ears like an overly friendly serpent, Stormwing knew whom it belonged to. Though she was confused. Why hadn't she smelled Kakos? As she inhaled, attempting to sort out the scents within the dark chamber, it was apparent why. Though not wholly overpowering, the odor of antiseptic was thick in the air, discreetly covering all the lesser odors around the prison. Though Kakos was decidedly not sweet smelling, it had even overcome her deathly scent. But all of this smelly business was really a moot point. Stinky or not, Kakos was here! In this very cell! Whether or not that would further Storm's likelihood to go mental, the banded thill was glad that her friend was here with her. "Don't do that!" Winger stage whispered. Though the words were angry, her voice was full of mockery. She grinned at the crouching Kakos, whose prison clothes were falling off her slender shoulders. The crazy, serial-killing Kakosenas Shriker. Stormwing's best friend. She almost wanted to hug her, so great was her relief, but a sudden slough of guilt passed through her, and she winced under its proverbial sting. "Not that I have a right to tell you anything..." There was a painstaking silence, in which Stormwing let the full waves of guilt wash over her. If only she hadn't gone to The Watering Hole. If only she hadn't drank herself into a state of mental impairment. If only her tongue didn't get so loose when she was drunk. If only Koani Grader hadn't solicited so much privy information from her! But what was done, really was done. There was no point in regretting it. Guilt, however... guilt for what she'd put Kakos through, she'd allow. She'd let herself steep in it until it rubbed her raw, punishing herself for so easily betraying her friend. It was what she deserved. Actually, she deserved so much worse. Traitors were often put to death, by their friends, or their country. Though, of course, Winger didn't want that, she really wouldn't be surprised if Kakos would vote for her execution. She also wouldn't blame her. Maybe suffering in guilt for the rest of her life wouldn't suffice for the Shriker femme, and Storm would just have to accept and allow that. "Kakos. It's my fault that we're here."
Kakosenas smiled back faintly as Stormwing grinned at her. That had done it. This creature before her was Stormwing, her friend. Surely no amount of trickery could procure a genuine smile like that. Magic didn’t work for anyone here. It wasn’t just a thing that only affected the prisoners. So it was impossible for Stormwing to be a magic produced illusion. Illusion or not though, her presence here was still unexplained. Shriker wasn’t allowed outside visitors, so that meant…? Kakosenas fumbled with her clothes, trying to straighten them out from under the dark confines of the cot. Still she made no motion as to remove herself from the floor. Something felt amiss. Silently twirling a taloned finger in her hair, Kakosenas waited for her friend to say something more. When she finally did say something, it served only as fodder to feed Shriker’s confusion. "Not that I have a right to tell you anything..." What had happened? She pulled her hand away from her hair, tilting her head and gazing out at Stormwing from beneath the cot. Shriker could sense something strange in the silence that followed. Her friend’s demeanour seemed to have changed. At first she had appeared to almost be relieved. Now it was if she was unsure. Something was bothering her. Then came the kicker, the reason for the white banded female’s hesitation: “Kakos. It's my fault that we're here." Shriker swallowed, her ears splaying out to the sides. Stormwing’s single sentence had set off a slew of questions that were now streaking across the fore part of Kakos’ brain. Questions that she had had since she'd first been captured. Now at least some of the answers were within her graps. She wanted those answers. Now. “Explain," she said simply. The word coming out like a curt command. One couldn’t be sure if there was underlying malice or hate beneath that word. If Kakosenas was feeling betrayed or angry at the moment, she was doing a good job at hiding it.
After she'd spoken her confessional sentence, she didn't wait around to hear her friend's reply. Stormwing reached back towards the mattress she had been sitting on, and grabbed the folded pile of clothes she had tossed there earlier. She busied herself with unfolding them, first the shirt, and then the pants. The garb was made out of thin, cottony material, and it had been worn and washed a thousand times before. It had probably started off a clean white color, but now it was a drab gray. Winger momentarily kneaded her fingers on the faded fabric, then quickly threw the chemise portion over her head. She was already wearing a tee, and hoped that Qythou would let her keep it. The prison clothing was far too thin, and she'd get cold quickly if he didn't. Now turning her focus to her pants, Storm undid her jeans, yanked them off, then easily slipped into the provided trousers. They were too big, but she didn't have a belt. As she turned to finally look at Kakos once again, she looked like a weathered ghost, dismal and drowning in the overly large clothes. She began to pick at a stain on the sleeve of her shirt, a dark red spot, as her charcoal friend finally spoke up in reply to her earlier statement. All she wanted as an explanation. Winger quickly forgot her clothes, and her ears slid back to paste against her nape. She was ashamed, but she wouldn't leave out any details. Telling Kakos what had happened would feed her guilt, and it would probably anger Shriker. In this way, she'd probably be punished twice as much. "I went out to the Watering Hole a few Fridays ago. I just wanted to be alone, and drink, and watch. I was just looking around the bar, when my eyes fell on this thill. She was sitting with three guys, but none of them were talking. She looked really solemn, so I went to ask to join her..." Stormwing sighed. This was where the tale quickly went downhill. "We quickly warmed up to each other, and began to talk. We both had a lot to drink. I couldn't stop talking. Then she brought up her mother. Said her mom had been sucked into The Nothing. Well, I was too far gone by that time to hold back. I told her everything about your involvement with The Nothing. I even told her you might be responsible for Karryasa Grader's death. It was a stupid thing to do, but I was drunk, and I bragged about it." The worst part of this admission was, though everything she'd said so far was horrible, the worst was yet to come. Winger clenched her fists, and then sank down into a squatting position. She rocked on her white heels, as if contemplating how to word this. How to tell Kakos she'd not only betrayed her, but to the worst possible person— "—Koani Grader. That's who it was. I didn't know it at the time. But I found out. When you were arrested, I put the pieces together. It wasn't even that hard, 'specially when they showed a picture of her looking all triumphant on the news..." Storm sort of felt like she was going to hyperventilate at this point, but she pressed on. She'd delivered all the bad news, and still had her tiny morsel of good news to offer. The part that she hoped would save her from Kakos' hatred and wrath. "As soon as I realized what she'd done, what I'd done, I made a plan. I researched everything about this bitch. I eventually figured out where she hung out. Then I got my guns, I got my vest, and I went after her. I didn't give a shit what would happen to me. I just wanted to punish her. I mean, not only had she helped me to betray you, but she also didn't give you any rights. So, I went there to beat her face in. I did a pretty good job of fucking her up, too. She'll be in the hospital for a few days, and she'll hopefully have a few scars. Hell, she might even have some internal bleeding. At least I hope so..." Finished with her story, Stormwing rocked backwards on her haunches, and bit her lip. Her hybrid eyes were gazing directly at Kakosenas. As she'd spoken, she'd tried to calculate her friend's reactions, and her inner emotions. But she was too good at hiding. Now, though, Kakos would surely let her opinion of all this news be heard. She'd probably creep out from beneath the cot, wrap her scaled hands around Winger's throat, and strangle her. At the thought, the banded female sighed, and let her head fall. She now stared at the floor, waiting for wicked fate to deliver itself upon her.
The Evil One listened carefully as Stormwing spun her tale, absorbing every word. It was a lot to take in. A lot to process. In short though, Stormwing had betrayed her. Unintentionally of course. It wasn’t as if she had gone out of her way in order to snitch on her… and she had tried to redeem herself once she’d come to realize her mistake. Kakos found herself thinking of sometime in the past… back at the Viper’s Nest. She’d asked Stormwing where her loyalties lay. Where she would be once they reached “the end". Stormwing had supplied Kakos with the only answer she had been truly capable of promising. She had said that she would try. Try to be on her side. Now, because of her friend’s trying, Kakos had been caught. Not quite red-handed, but she had been caught nonetheless. Perhaps trying really wasn’t good enough. Perhaps Kakosenas should have pushed for a stronger answer out of her comrade then. It took a while but eventually Kakosenas did crawl out from her hiding place. Her movements were slow, deliberate, and full of purpose. The violet tufted thill did look a little dishevelled and worse for wear. Her hair was in quite the disarray, as was her fur. This was normal though. What was abnormal was the fact that Kakosenas was clean. Somehow at some point in time, she’d washed, or had been washed. Her scent wasn’t nearly as strong and as overpowering as it had been several days prior. Kakos tugged at her clothing. It kept on slipping. Stormwing, having finished with her story had her head ducked and was staring at the floor. Kakos settled into a similar crouch beside her, resting her right arm along the frame of the bunk. Instead of staring at the floor, her gaze fixed on Stormwing. Shriker was angry. She could feel the anger burning like a hot ember in the pit of her stomach. It’d be so easy to jump Stormwing right now. Maim her. Stormwing most likely wouldn’t even put up a fight. She would have brought the attack upon herself. For a long time Kakosenas was unsure of what to say or do. She felt like screaming. Like reprimanding Stormwing. Tearing. Hurting. She even felt a little bit like crying. She swallowed these feelings for the time being and talked, trying her best to keep her tone of voice level. “You tried," she said thoughtfully. “Koani Grader though… she talked to me. Introduced herself to me. Tried to get me to confess and answer some questions. Very insidious she was. I was too flustered and scared to talk to her. I got the feeling she knew what I was thinking though. She was pretty. Very glittery. Those things she wears and the things that shined." Kakosenas sighed, remembering. “You really did beat her up?"
As her head dangled and she stared at the floor, a long silence hung on the air. Because Kakos wasn't yet ready to reply, Winger let her mind take flight, thinking backwards and forwards. She, too, remembered that night a year or so ago, when they'd been in the Viper's Nest. They'd sparred a bit, and then... well, the details weren't that important. The thought that stuck out in Stormwing's mind was the question Kakos had asked of her. Basically, she'd wanted to know if the younger thill would always be loyal, and stoic. She'd responded that she couldn't promise anything, but that she'd try. And try she had. For a long time, she'd been a great friend, had fed and clothed Shriker, had kept her out of trouble. I'm still trying, Storm thought, and an almost angry voice jumped up in her mind. Why should she ask more of you than that? It was an honest mistake. And you're not perfect! She's far from perfect, herself! Why do you let her ask so much of you? Why do you care so much what she thinks? Why would you lay your life down again for the one whom killed you? Now this memory, this was reaching far, far back. Winger had been a niotie then, struggling to survive on her own. She'd met Kakos, but the two hadn't forged anything special. Then they parted ways... or so the caramel female had thought. It turned out that Kakos was stalking her. Stalking her with the intent to kill... and that's just what she'd done. "In a way, we're even." Her voice came in a rugged whisper, and she lifted her head. Once more, ears pasted back, though not in shame and discomfort this time. Instead, it was a gesture of near aggression. Though she was loyal to her friend, and would always remain loyal, she suddenly thought of this ordeal as unfair. She hadn't gone out to The Watering Hole with the intent to confess Kakos' crimes to a government official, and Kakos should have known that. It was a mistake. A dire one, but still. Anger was due, but should she really be ready to lay down and be slain for this? No. No. That was going way too far. Especially when one considered the past between them. And the future they could and would have, once Koani had been reprimanded and they were set free. "...and yes. I beat the shit out of that bitch."
“In a way, we're even." Kakosenas nodded her head slowly in response. Stormwing’s demeanour had changed again. From upset and guilt ridden, to almost hostile. It was understandable though. All of it. Kakos couldn’t blame her for harbouring ill feelings against her. Maybe this incident actually did make them even. Though Kakosenas did not really believe this to be entirely true. In truth, she felt that she owed Stormwing much more. This accidental pay-back levelled their playing field a little bit, but Kakos felt that the hurt still weighed more heavily on Stormwing’s side. “I don’t want to blame you," she began carefully, watching Stormwing’s face for any change in expression. “In a way, yes we are even. In a way, we aren’t. Also… in a way, none of this was your fault. It’s all mine. If it wasn’t for me, for fate, we wouldn’t be in this mess at all." Kakosenas admitted. And it was true. Whether her actions had been dictated by fate, or her own choices, she was still to be held accountable for them. She deserved whatever ill fate she had coming to her. Whether that in the end be death, or an eternity of rotting in a cell just like this one. Kakosenas reached out and lightly touched Stormwing’s shoulder with her left hand. Her own anger was starting to ebb away. She really couldn’t continue to be mad. Not when she herself was the real instigator of their problems. Kakos wanted forgiveness, or at least something like it. Some indication that Stormwing could put the past behind them, accept what all had happened, and get to work on their more immediate problems. “I don‘t blame you." Kakos reiterated, dropping the keyword ‘want’ from her sentence.
Stormwing had not expected Kakosenas to relent so easily to her statement, and her ears swept back to their vertical positions as she eyed her friend in obvious surprise. Something deep inside the brown female had thought that this whole ordeal would choke off the friendship in one way or another — whether it was because Kakos refused to forgive Storm's trespasses, or because Storm herself refused to apologize and be forgiven. But Kakos' soft words bred hope in the younger of the two, and a light shimmered in her gaze as she stared at her friend. Their past had certainly been rocky, and their present was no less easy to navigate. Their path towards the future would be a little easier now, though, because they were once more sewn seamlessly as a team. Stormwing and Shriker. The touch on her shoulder drove this conviction home, and Winger finally removed herself from her submissive crouch. It wasn't like her to lower herself anyway. Now, on her feet, her ghastly, loose clothing flowed around her, and she found herself smiling. Not because she was standing over Kakos — that meant nothing to her. But because she was back to feeling victorious, instead of feeling guilty. Together, she and Shriker would somehow beat Koani. Perhaps they'd have to spend a while in this prison cell, but they'd still triump. Somehow. Some way. Some day. "I didn't mention something before..." Stormwing started. Trying not to snag her poorly fitted outfit on anything, she padded towards the same cot she had sat on before, and sank onto it. "Indeed, after I beat up Koani, everybody in the world had an opinion on whose side was in the right. It seems that some are louder about it than others. Thousands of Janardan students have reportedly been protesting on our behalf. They're pissed because you had no chance, and they're behind me all the way on how I dealt with it. Honorless though it probably was." Banded muzzle wrinkled into a mirthless snicker. "I think you've rubbed off on me, you know. Before, I'd never have thought of hurting someone so badly, much less actually doing it — and enjoying it. Think... I'm almost as bad as you now. What a true force we'll make now. Not only are we both capable of the darkest crimes, but we'll have a sudden celebrity status to back us up." For a moment, she was quiet, consternating. Then it was like a lightbulb flashed over her head, and she began to speak quickly, her thoughts jumping all over the place as she spoke. "Life is never quite going to be the same. 'Specially for me. What am I going to do now? Koani will see to it that I'm expelled from the USR. What will I do now? I'll bet you anything we'll land a cash settlement from the Grader family for all this wrongful imprisonment... maybe we can spend the rest of our days kicking back in our own private mansion, and, you know, shooting people in the head every once in a while." White hands rubbed together, and another dark snicker leaked its way out of her muzzle. "...and you can have the eyeballs. Even start a collection if you want. We'll have enough money to have an entire room dedicated to your gruesome trophies."
Kakosenas stood up as well and stretched. It’d been a while since she’d actually moved about. Prior to Stormwing arriving, she’d been holed up underneath the bunk for an unaccountable amount of hours. She stretched her back out, twisting it first one way and then the next… throwing a small fit when her shirt impeded her movement. This fit manifested itself as a few angered stomps of her feet in quick succession. How she loathed this getup. Wardrobe frustrations aside, Shriker was relieved. Although she was jailed, she was sharing this sentence with her friend. Most likely in the end they’d go loopy together. That’s sort of what friends were for though. Yet, what were the odds? The actual numerical odds of Stormwing being placed in the exact same cell as her? Had it possibly been Koani’s doing? Had she wanted the two of them to rot together? Was it only a mere coincidence? Although Shriker had only been around Koani briefly, the slice of character that she had glimpsed of the Grader at her questioning had been mildly unsettling. She appeared to be the sort that always hid a trump card up her sleeve. So the thought of Stormwing beating her up was a highly satisfying one. Moray eyes darted towards the cell door. How much longer would it be until supper anyway? Surely it wasn’t too far off. Unless… Kakos had missed it somehow. Which was possible. Kakosenas settled herself onto the bunk opposite Stormwing’s. She drew her legs up to the side and entwined her tail around them. Stormwing was explaining the situation at Janardan. Could that actually be true? How exactly had the media become privy to what had happened? Where had Stormwing attacked Koani? It must have been a public place. Possibly the Grader’s own home? Kakos made a mental note to ask her later. To actually detail how the entire confrontation had gone down. Kakos grinned when Stormwing mentioned the possibility of her rubbing off and her being almost as bad as she was now. She nearly glowed with pride. The idea of being a celebrity wiped that grin off of her face though. Kakosenas had sort of grown accustomed to the low profile status she’d held for years. The much whispered about swampland shriker. A mysterious and dangerous creature. The idea of many people knowing, or wanting to know her frightened the thill somewhat. “Aye… I‘d say you‘re out of the USR for sure." Shriker said, wondering just how their lives would be affected if they did indeed made it out of this mess. The possibility of she herself getting out of prison seemed to be a dim one. It was sort of nice to imagine though. And Stormwing’s mention of a room dedicated just to her odd collections was very tempting. “You’ll find something to do. If. If'n we get out." Shriker said, glancing once more at the locked cell door. Oh how easy it would have been to get out of here had she still the use of her magic.
Visions of pickled eyballs danced in Stormwing's head, and she lay back on the cot. Though she was but a featherweight, the thin mattress sunk down into the rusty springs, and she could feel little stabs and pokes where the broken coils jabbed through the thin cotton. She didn't complain, though. She was too busy thinking. Images of severed eyes in jars gave way to dreams about the mansion she would — they would — buy with the money awarded to them through a wrongful imprisonment lawsuit against the Grader name. There would be countless hallways and rooms, and a remake of the Viper's Nest in the basement. There would be a pool in the back, and a refreshment machine in every room. Two in Winger's bedroom. Yes, as she reposed there on her shabby cot, these reveries pranced by her mind's eye, and she smiled and snickered intermittenly, obviously quite amused by the images in her brain. This went on for a few moments, and then the young thill suddenly surfaced from her thoughts, and rolled onto her side. She faced Kakos across the small, dank jail cell, and hummed thoughtfully. The other's comment about the USR registered belatedly in Winger's mind, and she tried to shug, although it wasn't pulled off all that well due to her horizontal position. "I loved the USR... but I can do without it. One thing they can't take from me is my Master's in Sharpshooting. And they won't have my guns forever. I'll get those back, some day. If it's the last thing I do," she tagged on, aware that the line was lame. It was stupid, maybe, but also so fitting to the way she felt about it. "Anyway, know when dinner is around here?" Storm quered, jumping choppily from subject to subject. As if on cue, a loud rumble issued forth from her intestinal tract. She couldn't help but laugh, as she patted her belly. "My tummybox is rumbling. It wants food. Do they bring it here, or do we go to a mess hall sort of deal? If we do the latter, think of all the possiblities there. We could even escape... if we played our cards the right way. Hm..." Once more, she rolled onto her back. Ever since the idea about winning a cash suit from Koani had popped into her mind, she'd been a bit scatterbrained. Her brain kept flicking back to that possibility, and she couldn't help but imagine all the great things that could come of that. Now, as she pictured the exact shape of their backyard pool — should it be a bean? A circle? A rectangle? — she began to pick at the broken springs of the bunk above her with agile white fingers.
Kakosenas’ ears perked at the mention of food. If Stormwing hadn’t eaten either, then surely it wasn’t past dinner time just yet. “Mmhn, there’s a mess hall. At first I just had all of my meals brought to me... I’ve been there a few times though. Some inmates never see the mess hall. Solitary confinement and all. I suppose they’ll let us go there for dinner. Assuming dinner hast not already happened." Shriker slowly began to pull at a newly discovered thread on her shirt as she continued to speak. “The food is decent. Not quite what I’m used to. You may find it satisfactory. The ah, dining company though. Horrible things. Plenty of them plan, think… dream of escaping. I don’t like being near them." She said, not quite fully repressing a small repulsed shudder as she snapped off the stray thread with a quick yank.
Simultaneous with Kakos' reply was Qythou Qunat's arrival at their cell door. He'd approached on quiet feet, his keychain tightly in his grasp so that it didn't jingle. Storm only realized he was there when he inserted the electronic key into the padlock and slid the door open. Somewhat startled, she sat up in her bed. Only to be slammed back down again by the rusted and torn underside of the bunk above her. "Oh. Shit." A white finger came up to touch at a spot where a broken spring had snagged her flesh. A small trickle of blood flowed from next to her left eye. "That hurt." But she didn't give much more attention to the wound. Qythou was gesturing commandingly for the two thills to stand. He had a pair of handcuffs in his hand. It was obvious that he was here to escort them, probably to the mess hall Kakos had just mentioned. Winger slipped off her cot, then turned to Kakos, and the movement caused a trickle of blood to drip in her eye. She didn't mind it. She then padded towards the warden, turned her back to him, and crossed her wrists behind her back. The female made no protests to having the cuffs latched around her banded wrists, and remained quite silent as he locked them tightly. She was kinda hungry, after all.
Kakosenas’ ears flicked back when she noticed Qythou Qunat's presence and jerked as Stormwing started and then uttered an “Oh. Shit." She hadn’t anything against Qunat personally. He appeared to be a reasonable warden. Shriker just had an issue with authority. Anyone whom she felt was above her for whatever reason, she didn’t feel at ease with. The fact that there was no apparent escape and whatever Qunat ordered had to be done without question did not help subdue her anxiety. At least this time he hadn’t had to call her out into the open from her under-the-bed sanctuary. Shriker had a difficult time reading his face in regards to what he thought about this change in procedure. He was giving them his poker face though and not even the faintest hint of expression gave his thoughts away. Shriker removed herself from the bed at Qunat’s command. She watched Qunat for a moment, curiously, before looking over to Stormwing as she was being cuffed. Only then did she realize that her friend was hurt. Blood was trickling down her face. Kakos longed to help fix that, but knew that any unpredictable motion made on her part would bring a penalty. Fighting the urge to aid Winger, she too put her hands behind her back in order to be restrained. A faint click, and then they were being ushered out of the room. The travel down the wide labyrinthine corridors toward the mess hall was a rather uneventful one. It was interrupted only once when Shriker’s pants, having been way too big for her in the first place, caught on one of her feet and caused the black menace to go crashing ungracefully onto the floor in a fit of nervous tittering. She’d recovered rather quickly, but the small incident only heightened Shriker’s paranoia as they were forced along. Eventually they made it to the mess hall. The hall itself was a huge well-lit, soft blue and green painted two story room. Guards were posted all along the second story where they could oversee the prisoners, and also posted at all of the exits. Guards also lined the tables at various intersections, keeping an eye on prisoners and breaking apart any disputes should there happen to be any. Despite this being a prison mess hall, the overall atmosphere was decidedly jovial. Also, despite the guards armed and watching them all, many of the tables appeared to be having fun. Telling jokes, laughing. There was an underlying tenseness in the air… but the random chatter and laughter was doing a relatively good job at covering it up. Qunat unlocked Stormwing’s and Shriker’s cuffs, then removed himself from the mess hall. No doubt going to round up some other prisoners and bring them in here as well. Shriker rubbed her wrists, then motioned for Winger to follow her. Several paces away was the winding line for grub. Once safely in the line behind her fellow convicts, Shriker snatched at her pants and held them in place. They were so very irritating. Shriker faintly indicated the cut Stormwing had received. “Is that going to be okay?" She asked in a whisper so as not to be heard by the pendragon standing in front of them. Several more pendragons joined the end of the line behind them in their own quest for food.
After their quiet trip through the echoing hallways, the mess hall's noise assaulted Stormwing's sensitive ears. She winced inwardly, but soon forgot this short grievance in the face of all the goings-on here in the mess hall. Other prisoners were milling about, some chattering excitedly, others carrying trays piled high with various foods. The entire atmosphere was a sort of satisfied, happy one. Mildly surprising to the young thill, but she shrugged it off. She was hungry, and wanted, above all, food. And it didn't seem like they had any shortage of it here. Winger joined Kakos in line, and then took a moment to look around the room once more. The scent of stewing meat drifted past, and she nearly moaned with expectancy. But something else stole her attention away from the thought of a fair repast. Across the hall, there was a group of males seated around a table. They began to argue vehemently, until punches were thrown. Quickly, wardens stepped in to break up the fight, and soon enough, everybody was settled back in their chairs. Grimaces and scowls were traded amongst those at the table, but nobody spoke or moved. Storm was curious about what had just transpired, but she was even more interested in the food whose odors were now fully overpowering her senses. "Damn, that smells good. You'd think a prison would have shit for breakfast," she quipped. The line was moving slowly, and her tail twitched. "What all have you already eaten, Shriker? Meat loaf with potatoes? Gourmet pizza? Pilldickle nectar over lemons?" A thin chuckle escaped banded muzzle, and Storm craned her neck to peer towards the front of the line. Two hardened females were getting served, the ladies behind the counter scooping spoonfuls of delicious-looking substance onto their platters. Glad to have her hands free, she rubbed them together, and cracked her alabaster knuckles, in a way that clearly said, Come on already!
Shriker murmured quietly to herself. She hated this. Downright hated this. Having to stand in line for food. She didn’t like it for a number of reasons. Firstly, she herself wasn’t the one preparing the meals. Who knew what the prison cafeteria faculty laced their food with? Secondly, the entire concept of being served food. Again, Kakosenas would much rather be out finding her own instead of having to rely on handouts in order to survive. Thirdly… always having to wait in line whenever one was hungry? She found that atrocious. She couldn’t do a thing about it though. She was here. She was resigned to fate. Winger was talking to her about the food. Kakosenas carefully positioned herself so that her back was at an angle to the pendragon standing in front of her. “I’ve eaten a few things… whatever doesn’t smell funny anyway. I won’t touch the gravy," she stated. The line shuffled up a bit so that Stormwing and Shriker were at one of the large tray stands. Shriker retrieved two trays, keeping one for herself and handing the other to Stormwing.
Without a word, Storm reached out a white hand, and took the tray from Kakos' grip. The line seemed to be shuffling at a slightly faster pace, and the young pendragon anticipated the food whose odors tickled her nostrils. Her mouth began to water, and her tail flicked. Damn, how long was this going to take? Two males got served, then a male and a female. Stormwing and Shriker moved up a bit. A solitary, large male took about two minutes to be served, because he seemed to require about three times as much sustenance as the other inmates. Storm found herself lifting a brow as she watched this, and her mismatched gaze followed the bulky guy. He reminded her of that dude she'd met eons ago, back in the Viper's Nest... what had his name been? She couldn't even remember — she'd been too stoned that day. Shrugging, the cinnamon female snatched her attention away from the big pendragon, and back towards the line. It was their turn! Winger prodded Kakos forward, making little squeak noises as she did so. They clearly said, "I'm hungry, move!" to her friend and cellmate. After the purple-tufted beastie had moved up and placed her tray on the counter, the hybrid followed suit. She spanked her empty tray down, and hungrily eyed the tired-looking thills behind the counter. They scooped provisions onto her platter, and from what Storm could tell, it looked like stew, and... were those vegetables? Really too ravenous to care at this point, she picked up her full tray and turned to peer across the sea of criminals. Kakos was still beside her, and Winger turned to her. "Where to?"
Shriker frowned as the smell of the hot meal she held grew stronger. She’d tolerate it though. She had to. Shriker glanced up as Winger asked her “Where to?" The mess hall was pretty busy. There were no free tables. Wherever they went, they’d wind up having to sit with someone. Shriker carefully scanned the area. There were free seats all over really. However, what sort of company would each one entail? What sort of conversation could each one spark? Shriker spotted a small contained group near the mid-section of the mess hall. They were talking amongst themselves and right near the end of their table there happened to be a few free seats (whether or not they would actually be “free" they had yet to find out). Kakosenas nodded her head toward the small group. Pointing was a no-no. “Let’s try over there first." The only crowd she really wanted to avoid were the folks that always occupied the back left hand corner of the room. “Oh, and watch your step. They like to pick on newcomers sometimes." Kakosenas said, then carefully began to weave herself through the crowd, tray in hand.
Large ears quivered as they listened to Kakos' words, and her warnings. Stormwing scanned the crowd before them again, swallowing as she did so. This was not the caféteria in Janardan. This was a mess hall in a prison, Krokino prison. These weren't students, although, the banded female noted to herself with a sense of ironic sarcasm, she doubted the hostility was any less than it was at Janardan. Teenagers could often be as dangerous and as terrible as criminals... but then again, they were a lot less apt to outright violence. Inhaling deeply, steeling herself and growing wary, Winger looked to her side, and nodded to Kakos. She'd seen where her companion had gestured, and was ready to give it a try. Stalking on soft feet, she moved forward, soon amongst the seas of inmates as she passed between the nearest two tables. Because Krokino was co-ed, she wasn't surprised when a hand reached for her rear end. She was too quick, though, and she gave the almost-culprit a stony look over her shoulder. He whistled in return, and she looked away. Best to just ignore them as best as she could. There was a space in between the next bank of tables, and Storm almost felt a sense of relief. But it soon vanished as she moved betwixt the next two. On either side, females hunkered over plates, shoveling the meats and sauces into their open mouths. Winger wondered if this was the lesbian section, but was too smart to say anything aloud. She moved swiftly passed, and emerged in the last space before the group of tables Shriker had nodded towards. Indeed, there was a few empty seats along the benches, and the hybrid scooched slowly closer. Should she ask if the seats were open, or just sit down? Somewhat puzzled, but not one to deliberate too long over such a mundane question, she simply stepped up to the table, lifted her legs over the bench, and sat. "Hi. I'm Stormwing," she offered to the mixed group of pendragons, all of whose eyes suddenly turned to stare at her.
Shriker trailed Stormwing, completely ignoring any passes or lewd remarks aimed at her. As long as nobody touched her, all would be okay. Shriker appeared to be on high alert. Her eyes continuously scanning the rows of eating and conversing faces. It was of no surprise that a few, not many, but a few of these faces were familiar to her. She always had kept bad company it seemed. Most that she did recognize were from her years spent on Bhim. There were however some that she recognized from Swaraj. One fellow in particular she thought she knew to be from Bhim caught her eye. She couldnÂ’t place his name though, but by the mildly angered half-smirk on his face, she figured that she had had bad relations with him in the past. Shriker returned his look with one of pure impassiveness. She arrived at the table behind Stormwing just in time to hear her partner in crime introduce herself. Shriker blinked, then looked past Stormwing at the group of pendragons.
