Though usually unafraid and assertive, Storm felt puny under this almost tangible wall of scrutiny. There must have been ten pairs of eyes pinned on her, probing her, sneering at her. The worst part was, for a good minute or two, nobody said anything. They just stared. And stared. And stared. Finally, one male, about two seats down and across the table, piped up. "Stormwing? The Stormwing?" As he said this, he held up a slightly disheveled looking newspaper. He turned it so that it was upside down to him, and folded the pages back to expose the front headline. His black finger then pointed at the image there, and Storm found herself leaning over to see. Ah... so she'd not only made televised news, but written news as well. She stared at the grainy photograph of herself being escorted from the Rloa Kumiym, pendragons in riot gear surrounding her, her banded wrists locked behind her in a pair of cuffs. After a moment of peering at the picture, the young thill then looked up, stared around at the staring eyes, and nodded. When the male smiled then, the rest of the eyes softened with dark amusement, and she knew everything would be all right for her and Kakos. Relieved, she waved for her friend to sit down beside her. "...and you must be the one she did it for," the male added on, staring at Shriker. "Wow... just wow. It's very nice to meet you two. I'm sick and tired of your everyday robber and common thief. It's great to meet some criminals, with a cause!"
Kakosenas sat down, strangely puzzled, her tufted tail wrapping itself tightly around her legs. She knew that Stormwing had mentioned something about the media earlier. She had thought that it had just been Janardan that had been backing them though. Perhaps this entire thing was a bit larger than she had first thought. Koani Grader was a big name… and Karryasa… well. “Shriker," Kakosenas said with a nod of her head as she supplied her name. Her food lay before her, but she made no effort to touch it just yet. She was watching the male with the paper that depicted Stormwing in cuffs. “May I look at that? Once you’re done," she queried. Somehow this situation felt funny. Though Kakos blamed it on the food.
"Yeah..." She didn't really know what else to say. She was just glad that the eyes had stoped staring at her. "So, what's the article about? For me? Against me? Neutral, by some miracle of the deities?" She laughed scoffingly at the idea that a journalist could take an unbiased view, but then her mirthful noises tapered off. She blinked, then looked down at her stockpiled platter, once again becoming obsessed with the food before her. Now that everybody seemed 'cool' with the pair's presence at their table, she could finally eat, fer cryin' out loud. Using a deft white hand, she picked up the fork that automagically appeared next to her tray, and began to prod at the food. The main entrée was seemed to be a meaty paté. She jabbed a squashy chunk, then lifted it to her nose. It smelled all right. After a brief second of hesitation, she then slid the fork into her mouth, and chewed. It tasted... a lot less yummier than it smelled. Storm almost gagged, moreso out of disappointment than in true disgust. It just tasted bland, and kinda crappy. That made her sad. It was like coffee. Damn, she loved its smell, but its taste was a whole other story. Pushing her tray away, despite her grumbling stomach, Winger turned her attention back to the male with the newspaper. Kakos had requested it, and after looking it over for a few seconds to make sure he hadn't missed any interesting articles, he passed it to the chimera. Storm was only semi-interested, and she wiped her muzzle with an automagically appearing napkin as she looked over her friend's shoulder. At that grainy photo once again. Wondering if maybe if it had been taken from another angle, she'd look a bit better.
Shriker deftly took the paper in her talons once it was handed over to her. She pushed her tray a little further away from herself and settled into reading. It was a rarity when she actually did read a printed newspaper. She never cared much for the current happenings on the world and preferred the more dated hardbound books as the sources of her information. Kakosenas thought that she would have known more about the event than the pendragon who had written the article, so all of this information she figured wouldn‘t be very new to her. However, there were some things, some details, that Stormwing had neglected to tell her. Perhaps she’d only left these facts out because she hadn’t wanted to boast, or had just wanted to be out with the story, all the same, while reading this, Kakos understood why these strangers were in awe of her. A faint smile began to form on her draconic features. Stormwing had told her that she had beaten the shit out of Koani Grader. That was true. What she had neglected to mention was that not only were Koani’s three bodyguards still with her at the time, but Stormwing had attacked her in a public place. A restaurant no less! That took guts. That took a lot of guts. Shriker laughed - an oddly musical sound. She felt immensely proud for her friend. That didn’t stop her from pointing out Stormwing’s photo though. “That shot isn’t very becoming of you, you know," she said, still laughing.
After studying the photograph for a moment, Stormwing's bicolored gaze slid down the page. There was a caption, and then the beginning of the article. Her eyes flickered as she read both, and she frowned thoughtfully. But this frown was soon dashed by Kakos' comment. Storm smiled sheepishly, and lightly punched her friend. "That's not a nice thing to say." Now that food was forgotten and Shriker was busy with the newspaper, Winger took the time to look around the mess hall again. When you were sitting down, the view got different. Mostly, she saw the backs of heads, and animated faces. There was a dull roar in here, because it seemed like everybody was speaking. In fact, they really were. At their table alone, the staring eyes had gone back to looking elsewhere, and all the pendragons seemed to be participating in engaging conversations. Even the dark male whom had spoken. Winger's ears flicked forwards subtly as she tried to listen to what he was saying. Was he talking about her? "Both of them are. Damn, I wish we could live on the same block..." "Yeah. Shit, I'm tired of doing guys. There should be a day every month or something where they just let us out into the yard and have our way with 'em." "I dunno. It's not like I'd want to rape—" "Morals, Buck. You're too moral. Don't you ever think of your needs, man?" At this point, Storm grimaced and stopped listening. She was glad that the black male whom had been so enthusiastic and friendly was "moral," as his sick friend put it. But she suddenly wanted to move away, down the table or something. The guy talking about rape was big, white, and cruel-looking. If she could possibly help it, she'd avoid him. Sure, the mess hall was heavily guarded, but this arden didn't look like any impressive marathon guy. He could probably take a female and be done in ten seconds flat — too quick for a warden or ten to intervene. Of course, the aggressive Winger would personally rip and tear with all her might, but all the same... "Kakos? You wanna, like, move down, or maybe just go back to the cell? It's not like we're eating. You can probably take the paper with you... I mean, if he doesn't mind," she said, blinking once more in the direction of the sable fellow.
Kakosenas continued to chuckle as she took the light hit from Stormwing. She re-read the article again, rather oblivious to the other happenings, then set the paper down in the middle of the table when Winger addressed her. Leave? Kakosenas glanced at the gunk that currently occupied her tray. It was still steaming, untouched. Kakos considered it for a moment. She was only going to force a few small mouthfuls down her throat anyway. She could do without them though. “The newspaper can stay here. Unless you want it. It’s actually pretty dirty," Shriker said, wiping her hands on her pants a little stiffly. She prodded at her food a little absently. “If you’re hungry, we can find another table to eat at. Or just skip. Breakfast is usually a little better… than this mulch." she said, flipping a small lumpy vegetable over with her fork. “I just want to grab a drink… we sort of skipped by the refreshment stand." Kakosenas set down her fork.
Shrugging in response to the newspaper issue, Stormwing wasted not another second. She unfolded herself from the bench, and stood. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she scanned the mess hall. Wardens were posted at all the entrances, three thick, cuffs, bats, and pistols holstered at their waists. The food station was off to her left, and next to it was a small table with pre-filled cups. Heeding Kakos' statement about being thirsty, Winger began padding in the direction of this refreshment stand. It took her less time to move through the sea of criminals this time, squeezing smoothly between tables and bodies. She didn't look behind her to see if Shriker was tagging along, knowing that she would be. Once at the table, Storm looked over the available drinks with a critical eye. There was water, coffee, and something purple labelled as "bug juice." It reminded the banded thill of junior camping trips she'd heard about back in her younger days, but she shrugged and took it anyway. She was way too touchy about water's taste to drink some from a prison source, and, as always, she hated the bitter taste of coffee. Bug juice it was. "What do you want?" Winger asked, her tail switching. She still hadn't looked to see if her darker friend had followed. It was just instinct that told her that the Evil One was always behind her.
Kakosenas picked the strange vegetable that she'd been playing with earlier and poked it into her mouth. Chewing and then swallowing it as she got up. She was almost certain that the prison faculty mixed in sedatives with the supper meals in order to settle down the prisoners for the night. She then moved away from the table, leaving her tray, and following Winger's lead once more. Their progress led them right to the refreshment stand where Stormwing asked her what she wanted. "Er, just water I s'pose," Kakosenas said, then began to pull at her pants for the millionth time that day.
The thill deftly chose a cup of bug juice, and another of water. She handed the latter to Kakos, making sure it was clutched tightly in scaled talons before she let go. Storm then began to sip, while standing there, her mismatched orbs looking over the rim of the styrofoam cup. She downed her drink in one go, then tossed the empty container into a nearby waste basket. Wiping her muzzle with an alabaster hand, she poked Shriker with the other. She was still hungry, but there was no way she was going to touch that food again. Now her thirst was slaked, and she was bored. What else was there to do here, besides eat? Socialize? "Um... what are we supposed to do next? Can we find our warden and ask to be escorted back, or do we stay until a set time?" Just as this query left her lips, a short wail filled the room. Storm twisted around to squint at the packed tables, thinking someone had been injured somehow. But she soon discovered that this sound must be the dinner dismissal bell. Everybody seemed to stand up once, a few loitering over their meals as they scooped up the last scraps, even stealing some from other's trays. Flumes of inmates swarmed towards the doors, each milling around the one that led back to their block. A large group of females swept past Stormwing and Kakos, their D-Block labels pinned to their prison shirts. Without wasting a moment, Storm cluched Kakos' wrist, and dragged her at the tail end of the group. She was right 'n ready to get going back to the cell. She'd been hungry before, but now she was just... tired.
Kakosenas stopped playing with her pants and took the cup. She held it tightly in both hands, staring into the cup and its content. The water here wasn't all that bad. The stuff that they served here in the mess hall was actually better than the water that ran in their cell. Still, it made her heart sad as she drank it. It was hardly refreshing. Hardly anything at all. Shriker sighed and then downed the rest of the fluid. Shriker lost the meaning of Stormwing's words as the end supper buzzer rang. She clued into what she wanted soon enough though. Shriker tossed her cup at the waste basket as Winger snagged her by the wrist. Back to the cell. Back to the darkness. On any day prior to this, the buzzer sounding would have seriously upset Shriker. To be confined. Locked up. Now that she had Stormwing to keep her company though, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Shriker allowed herself to be led. They went right into the awaiting arms of the guards. There was a bit of a delay of several minutes. Many prisoners had to be tended to.Then click. Back on went the handcuffs. And once again they were being escorted down the lengthy hallways to their cell.
By the time Qythou escorted the two cuffed females back through the corridors of D-Block, dropped them off in their cell, then locked the door, Stormwing's feeling of sleepiness had multiplied tenfold. She sank down onto what she now considered 'her' bunk, and rubbed idly at the fresh cut on her head. She then let herself flop sideways onto the thin mattress, sighing as she did so. Silence reigned in the dank cell for a moment, and then Storm's belly grumbled quite loudly. Patting it, she mentally apologized for not feeding it, then sat back up again. She would have stretched, but the bunks were much too cramped. Instead, she stood, shuffling towards the epicenter of the cell, and looked wearily about. "Where's the... oh." She'd been about to ask where the bathroom was, but she soon spotted it. After all, it was a small cell, and there was only so many places it could be. As it turned out, there was a small toilet and a sink tucked into a corner behind the other set of bunks, with a thin wall and a curtain around it to make it somewhat private. Storm frowned as she peered at it. She could handle crappy mattresses, perpetual darkness and dampness, and even the complete lack of freedom. But to have such a public toilet was uncomfortable for her. She'd just have to avoid food and water at all costs. It was a good thing that doing such was, so far, not too much of a challenge. But, still. She had to at least wash up a bit. Slinking quietly towards the small excuse for a stall, a white hand drew back the dirty plastic curtain. She stepped inside, then drew the curtain back again. The sink was set low to the ground, and the young hybrid had to bend over to turn on the faucets. She turned both on full blast, splashed cold water on her face, and even dared to take a few sips. It was disgusting. Of course. But she swallowed anyway. Only a few sips, though. She was serious about trying to avoid bladder issues. She couldn't stand the thought of anybody, including Kakos, the warden, or nearby inmates, hearing her pee, fer shit's sake. Stormwing turned the faucet off after thoroughly soaking her face. Because whatever showers they used did not happen to be located in the cells, there were no towels. Dripping, she stepped out from the tiny bathroom, and headed once more for her cot. Exhausted, she fell onto it, and rolled so that she was facing the wall. She didn't mean to be unwelcoming. If Kakosenas wanted to talk — she could. But, sooner rather than later, the sarcastic hybrid was gonna fall sound asleep. It had been a long couple of days, after all.
Kakosenas sat idly on the bed opposite Stormwing’s. She was entranced for the time being with her clothing once more. The thread that she had snapped off earlier seemed to have grown back. She twirled it in between her talons. Stormwing had disappeared into their cell’s sorry excuse for a washroom. Shriker unravelled the string a little more, then lay back on the bed. Her thread was well over two feet long now. She snapped it off again and then leaned over off the mattress to randomly tie the string around one of the bed’s posts. Shriker watched as Stormwing eventually returned to her bed. Her cinnamon comrade looked rather exhausted. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be the best one to fill with mindless chatter. By the looks of it, they’d have plenty of other night to divulge in that pastime. Shriker sat up when Stormwing turned her back to her. She sat silently in the darkness, listening to the nighttimes sounds of the prison. She could hear the faint hum of power lines in the distance. Then came the rolling dull clapping sounds as sets of the prison’s lights snapped off for the night. Still Kakosenas remain vigil and sitting upright. Eventually, Kakosenas eased herself up and away from the bunk. Moving quietly, she crept over toward Stormwing. She watched her for a few moments, then with a crouch and a few scuffling sounds of material, Kakosenas crawled underneath the bunk Stormwing was currently occupying. She curled up under there, violet tufted tail wrapping about herself tightly. “Goodnight," Shriker whispered.
It seemed Kakos didn't feel much like talking, and that was fine with Stormwing. The brown hybrid let her two-toned eyes slide shut, and it wasn't long before she tumbled into stage one sleep, her brain waves beginning to slow down, though they never idled. Eventually, she passed through stage two and three, the delta waves curving sharply, and then she hit REM sleep. Dreams troubled her, vague scenes from the face-off appearing in her mind. The colors were too bright, and Koani had horns as well as spikes. Storm twitched, and then the dream was over. She slid back through the stages of sleep, her mind peaceful for the next eighty-nine minutes before her next REM episode. The night passed like this — dreams cycling in and out, the corridors growing darker and cooler. Storm herself did not chill down with the rest of the prison. In fact, she began to grow hot in her clothes, and wanted to tear off her top. She'd often done the same back in her Janardan dormitory. But her subconscious reminded her that she was in a public place, so the shirt stayed on, and her temperature continued to rise. Just before the wee hours of dawn, after tossing and turning for a good hour, Stormwing's eyes suddenly snapped open. Luckily, she did not sit up, lest her head be cut again. Instead, she rolled onto her side, and breathed heavily. Her eyes darted around the cell, but she didn't see Kakos. Instinctively figuring she was hidden away in some dark niche, Winger rolled over. She was facing the wall again. A hot paw traced the cracks there, and she mumbled to herself. Heat and bad dreams had robbed her of sleep for the rest of the night, er, day.
All through the night Stormwing had been tossing and turning. The threadbare mattress she was on squeaking and sometimes even squishing Kakosenas. On several occasions during the night Shriker had scuttled out from her hiding place with the intention of shaking Stormwing awake. However, the urge to do so left her whenever she set eyes on Winger. Although it was a deeply troubled sleep, it still was sleep… and it’d be a shame to wake her. So she had just crawled back underneath the bunk, having effectively done nothing. Several times during the night the guards made their rounds. They flashed their lights into the room, checking to make sure that everyone was in their places and that no one had mysteriously died during the night. On and on this went. Until it just had to be nearing morning. Shriker wasn’t sure if she had slept at all. Her ears pricked back as Stormwing shifted on the mattress once more, then began to breathe differently. Not quite like the short breaths she’d been taking earlier, although they were still a little laboured. Then she mumbled. It could have just been random sleep-talk, but Kakosenas had to be sure. “Are you awake?" She asked meekly.
A shiver, though not borne of chills, crept up Stormwing's spine. Once more, she rolled, now facing into the cell again. Somewhere down the hall, someone had turned on a light. It shed grainy fingers of illumination down the hall, and two-toned eyes could see the silhouette of bars across the corridor. Of course, the thick steel poles of her own "cage" were much clearer, and closer. She stared at them for a long while, wondering just how impregnable they really were, when a whispered voice interrupted her thoughts. "Are you awake?" It was almost creepy, the way it came from beneath the bed. Kinda funny, too. Kakos was probably just what some little nioti feared was beneath his own bed. Too bad they were locked up here, or maybe the Evil One could haunt the bedrooms of little, snotty kids... and make Winger laugh. Too bad, too bad, too bad. "Yeh... I'm awake," she finally responded, her mind jumping and bouncing now that she was regaining full consciousness. Drowsiness still impeded her senses, and her eyes felt heavy. She turned over onto her stomach, crossed her arms in front of her, and laid her chin upon them. "I wish I wasn't, though. Gosh, what do we do here all day?" Suddenly, the thought of sitting here and rotting caused Storm's stomach to quiver uncomfortably. She almost felt sick. Maybe it was the crappy food from the night before, or even the bug juice. In any case, the young thill slipped from the bed, and walked towards the toilet area. She ripped back the curtain, stepped inside, and sat heavily on the lid of the small porcelain pot. To try and pass the feeling of nausea, she reached over to the sink and ran the faucets, holding her hot, white hands beneath the chilled water.
“Well there is…" Shriker began, then stopped as Stormwing suddenly got up and went to their little box thing that was still, even now, trying to pass itself off as a washroom. Kakosenas crept out from under the bed. Stormwing was running water. Kakos liked that sound. She crawled onto the spot on the bed that Stormwing had just vacated and sat there. It was still warm. She grinned, quite liking that. Shriker hummed. “Are you alright? I don’t think you slept very good. Er… there should be someone around to do a wakeup call shortly. Then there’s showers… there’s a few craft halls that happen in the morning… in the afternoon there’s sort of an outdoor recreation time… and…" Shriker faltered. She wasn’t even sure if Winger was listening to her. Maybe she wasn't even fully awake. “Are you alright?" She repeated.
The water, combined with Kakos' reassuring words, made the nausea pass. Eventually, Stormwing stood, twisted the faucets off, and rubbed her white hands over her face. She still felt a bit queasy, but better. Quietly exiting the washroom, she cast her eyes about, looking for her friend. She found the small chimera sitting on the bed she'd so recently vacated. "I could really, really use a shower. But, wait." A sudden thought struck her, and Storm almost turned and walked back towards the bathroom. "Please don't tell me they're public. I can't even pee in public, much less shower." She almost moaned with distaste. Though she actually had no problems being nude, as it was a fairly common thing on Ramath-lehi, nobody but nobody wanted to wander around a prison in the buff. Plus, there was the added fact that showering was pretty intimate. She didn't want anybody staring at her hairy armpits.
“They’re sort of private… but not really. There’s stalls, but people can see…" Kakosenas frowned. Now that Stormwing had reminded her, she really wasn’t looking forward to the showering part of the day either. She’d been forced to on the first day. They’d hosed her down and she’d been quite a spectacle. Usually while all of the others were showering now, she just tried to hide. Kakosenas shivered and then snuggled deep into the hollow of the Winger’s mattress. “I hate everything about this place," she stated, her voice slightly muffled.
Just after Kakosenas had finished voicing her showertime horror stories, a wail, much like the dinner dismissal bell, echoed through the prison's corridors. Storm's ears flicked, and she idly scooted closer to the cell's front, white hands reaching out to wrap around the evenly spaced bars. She thrust her muzzle in between some, and tried to see the goings-on out in the hall. Nobody was moving, though she could hear rustling and moaning coming from the cell across from theirs. Finally, just as Winger was about to withdraw back into the dank chamber, Qythou's familiar footsteps could be heard. Stormwing and Shriker's was the first cell he stopped at. He easily slid the key into the electronic lock, and slid the door open on its tracks. To discourage either thill from attempting escape, he had a can of pepper spray poised. Storm didn't need much more convincing to stay still and let him cuff her. She had pretty much resigned herself at this point. Kakos' tales about the showers had not been reassuring, but she did want to get clean... she had a feeling she'd have to make a lot of sacrifices during her stay here at Krokino. Like usual, Qythou was silent as he led the pair of female pendragons up the hallway, out of D-Block. The corridors were like a maze here, and Storm found herself trying to memorize the bends, twists, and turns as the warden guided them towards the showers. It wasn't too hard. Finally, they arrived. Storm could tell, because steam suddenly engulfed their feet, and the unmistakeable noise of several showers running, reverberated in her ears. To her great delight, no voices sounded. Perhaps they were first to arrive. That would be great. "Go ahead. Undress in there. Only one towel per person." Qythou's voice was gruff, but not unkind. Winger felt the steel braces come loose from her banded wrists. Without waiting for Kakos, the hybrid stepped into the door, and looked around. Shriker had been right about these things. There were dozens of shower stalls lined up against either wall, but the fogged plastic doors barely reached up to shoulder height. So much for private underarm washing. Grimacing, Storm led herself up the aisle between the showers, heading all the way towards the furthest one. Once she got there, she slid inside the one to the left. She quickly undressed, then stepped under the already-pounding spray. She'd waste no time. Perhaps she'd finish before the oth— Just as she was thinking this, and lathering her cinnamon pelt with the prison's fragrance free shampoo, another pair of females entered the showers. Storm's eyes cast around for Kakos — where the hell had she gone? — but then they landed on the two unfamiliar thills. They were rather tall and well-built, and their voices were robust as they chattered and laughed. Though usually assertive, dominant, and unafraid, Winger really was bashful about this public showering business. She tried to hunker down behind the plastic partition, but to her greast misfortune, she'd already been noticed. "Ow, ow, lookit the new girl in the last stall. Ain't she a looker," one of the brawny females said, and her friend howled in response. Stormwing nearly withered on the spot, an unsettled grimace setting on her features, the lukewarm spray still pounding down.
Upon entering the showering room, Kakosenas had immediately squirreled herself away. On her second day she’d found an adequate hiding place behind a vending machine and a garbage bin. She’d been holing herself behind there ever since. The slight smell was a small price to pay for the avoidance. She had just hunkered herself down when she heard an unfamiliar voice. “Ow, ow, lookit the new girl in the last stall. Ain't she a looker." Kakosenas peered out of her hiding place only to realize that it was Stormwing that was being talked about. Shriker removed herself from her hiding place, her eyes narrowed. The other female’s friend who’d been howling noticed her and nudged the talker, who turned to look at Kakos. Shriker was a rather sorry sight to see. With her dishevelled hair and fur. She was still fully clothed. The prison garb hanging loosely off of her bones. Compared to these other sturdy females, she was incredibly diminutive. They probably could have used her as a rag to mop the floor up with if they wanted. Despite having a size disadvantage, Kakos’ posture was very bold and somewhat threatening. Her taloned hands were spread out about a foot from her sides. Looking as if she were about to draw twin guns... or perhaps just launch herself at these two inmates. “The new girl, she’s mine," Kakosenas hissed.
