Behind the Mask

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Psychedelic, Jul 31, 2015.

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  1. Aila was furious. She had been living successfully in this world of debauchery for four years now, and her world had been turned upside down by a watch - of all things. Her small size had worked well for her over the years, as she had managed to dart in and out of city crowds with ease, taking valuables as she pleased and getting far away before her marks even knew what had hit them. But, that had all changed with that damn watch. How could such a small thing have caused this much strife? And how on earth had she made such a huge mistake?

    It should have been a job like any other, a game of distraction and sleight of hand that lasted mere seconds, but her mark had just happened to be an off duty officer, and he'd caught her redhanded. It had been a short spiral into her current position after that. The boy that she had become, a nondescript Will Turner, was known and wanted by the powers that be, and he had been incarcerated within just days. The trial had been more a farce than anything, the authorities going through the motions as they of course knew full well that this boy was guilty, and Aila made no attempt to defend herself, knowing that she would only make life worse for herself in the longrun.

    It was through sheer luck that the guard assigned to searching the convicted thief had not the mental capacity to do his job properly. She could well have been discovered with just a minor frisk search, as baggy prison uniforms could only hide so much. Of course, Aila had taken to binding her breasts, but again, it was easy enough to feel that something was wrong. But, luck had been on her side, and the woman had breezed into the prison, passing through the ranks of vagrants and criminals of varying ilks, soon coming to the cell in which she would spend her sentence rotting.

    The cell was small, to say the least, two narrow beds crammed into the space that was barely large enough for one. There was virtually no floor space to speak of, and what one could only describe as a chamberpot in one corner. The world had come a long way, but it appeared the prison had yet to catch on. The blankets seemed to be scratchy by design, and the tiny window was just...it was almost an insult. It was certainly a far cry from what Aila had grown up with.

    However, all this was far less of a worry than the man seated on the first bed. Sharing a cell could be problematic, to say the least, and Aila could only hope that he was as dim as the guards that patrolled the low security wings. She of course had certain plans in place, but it would remain to be seen whether this would be enough.

    "The name's Will, if you must know." She spoke in a voice that had been carefully mastered to match the teenage boy she emulated. Her hair was dark brown and dirty, though her natural colour was a deep, lustrous black. She kept it cut short and choppy, using a knife to keep it from growing too much, something that only added to the ragtag look. She glanced to her left as the door was shut behind her, proceeding to regard her cellmate with suspicion and dislike, making it clear that she was not here to make friends. When one was attempting to hide their gender, it made sense to remain as isolated as was possible.
     
    #1 Psychedelic, Jul 31, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 14, 2015
  2. 12 Months - 1 Week - 4 Days - 4 Hours?

    He had over half of his sentence completed and wasn't really any worse for wear. Most of it was served by himself, with random roommates popping in from time to time. Why they left, he was curious, but nothing that concerned him enough to question. For the most part, they either transfer out or decided to fall in to a clique and get moved closer to them. At least, that was what he heard afterwards. No matter, they were gone and he didn't exactly have an attachment to his peers that also committed crimes. He may have also committed a crime, but like most stories, it is more than just the cover.

    For now, he would just continue to write in his notepad. Even after the door had opened, Jameson continued scribbling away at the paper. Currently working on a poem, it kept on until what sounded like a teenager decided that attitude was the first thing you should throw out with their cellmate.

    "I don't. But thank you anyways. My name's Jameson." He said, flipping his little book closed and put it on his tiny headboard. Standing up, he reached out to introduce himself properly.
     
  3. Good. This guy didn't seem to be too interested in her at all, and that meant she would hopefully be able to keep herself to herself in general. If this person was the norm for the entire cell block, then perhaps she'd be okay. They'd only managed to pin a few relatively minor crimes on her, and so she expected to be out in a year or so, if she could behave herself during that time, and so it probably wasn't going to be too difficult to get through this.

    However, as the man who identified himself as Jameson held out his hand, Aila couldn't help but recoil a little. She almost scowled as she spoke, "If you don't care, don't shake my hand." She proceeded to turn away from him, instead just sitting herself heavily on her bed, soon laying down on the narrow bed with a mattress that was far too thin to be considered humane.

    The silence stretched out for some time, and it quickly became clear that the lad was restless. One leg raised up, followed by another, an arm ran through messy hair and the blanket underneath her very quickly became rucked up and untucked from the bed. Finally, with a grumpy sigh, Aila spoke again, "What the hell do you do around here? And when do we get food?" She wasn't used to eating regular meals of constant quality, and although she wasn't expecting a feast, it was a damn sight better than constantly living hand to mouth.
     
  4. "I meant that I didn't need to know your name, right of the bat, not that I didn't care. Excuse me for being friendly to the apparently bitchy newbie. Good luck here, with that attitude." He expression turned to something that suggest disgust and he moved back to lay down. Seems that trying to be diplomatic was the wrong thing to do. Whatever the reason was for him to be snippy, Jameson didn't really give it a thought. Fine. Be a prissy little loner bitch.

    As the newbit made more and more clear that they had ADHD, he had actually turned his back to them. A nap was starting to sound more and more feasible and just all around a good thing to do. When he spoke, Jameson sighed but didn't turn back to face them. "There is a lot for you to do around here, most of the time. You can go to the pool, play basketball, go to the library, fuck some dude if you are into that. The possbilities are endless. As for food, you just missed lunch before you got in here. So you will have to wait a good 5-6 hours for dinner. Other then that, play with your little cock and and balls for all I care."
     
  5. Feeling a little bit like a child again, Aila did not take kindly to being scolded, although she thankfully simply sulked in response, rather than losing her cool completely. The woman really was a bit of a child in many ways, having grown up in such a comfortable home, far removed from the real world, it had been a bit of a baptism of fire when the girl had finally left the safety of her home. However, she was a feisty and tenacious character, and had soon worked out how to survive as a lowly urchin, and had even managed to keep hold of the worse parts of her personality, along with those that made her somewhat tolerable.

    Unfortunately, Aila wasn't one for showing her good side to just anyone, and so she did not thank her cellmate for the detailed explanation of the myriad of activities available to them. Instead, she only glared at him, clearly annoyed by the snarkiness that was no doubt deserved. "Great. And where's the exit? You can enjoy your homoerotic adventures all you want, but I'm getting out of here." In all honesty, it might have been more sensible to just serve her sentence and take the free meals, but Aila had never been one to bow down to authority.
     
  6. And he still continues to talk. This is going to be a short stay for him. At least, before someone puts him into the infirmary. This must have certainly been the first stay for this little criminal. If he had cared, or even had the desire to, this new cellmate might have already been shown who is boss. Thank their lucky stars this wasn't that sort of prison. For the most part, it wasn't, anyway.

    "Spout all the ignorance you what, little boy, doesn't change the fact that not even my last girlfriend got anywhere near my ass or that you won't escape this place without making a few mistakes. First being that if you try to run from most likely one of the most relaxed institutions for criminals there is. Things will only get harder once you are found out. I am guessing your sentence isn't even long enough to warrant such an idea, only that you are needlessly impatient." He still didn't even give him the satisfaction of turning to speak to him. "But if you do try and run, a least close the door on your way out."
     
  7. Although what was being said was utterly true, it seemed that Aila really didn't want to listen to reason. She knew full well that this was a relaxed place that she would probably be able to survive in, but being caged was not something she wanted to simply accept. Add to that her fears of being discovered, and what might happen should that event take place, escape really did seem an attractive option to her. However, the pointed put down and stark truth did at least cause the girl to shut up for a while.

    Continuing to sulk, Aila lay on her side, facing the wall and thinking over her plans, eventually dozing off as her body apparently decided that there was nothing better than a little afternoon nap. Upon waking, she happened to be feeling a call of nature, and was faced with the issue of having no idea where the toilets in this place were. As usual, expecting answers and assistance from whomever she asked, Aila briefly poked her roommate, "I need a piss, where are the toilets?" She could have found out herself, but part of her just wanted to disturb the man, as being a minor annoyance was surprisingly rewarding to the petty girl.
     
  8. His body jolted a bit, startled from the sudden touch. He blinked several times before rolling back over to face the poker. A case of bedhead and some bloodshot eyes were his main description now. Shaking a little bit and getting the cobwebs out, Jameson then rubbed his face and just pointed at the door. After a few seconds, he spoke.

    "Left. Down the hall, and let the guard know what you are doing and he will stay in there. They don't got into the stall with you, but I doubt even you need help to aim for the water and not the rim." Standing, the young began to stretch. A yawn that could have easily been mistaken for coming from a bear followed. He then moved across past his new roommate. His presence was enough at this point to bother him. Then again, it was mostly just waking up. Probably. Either way, his decent mood was pissed away at this point.
     
  9. As much as she wanted to punch her cellmate square in the jaw, Aila did manage to avoid that rather rash course of action, instead simply turning and calling for the guard. More often than not the cells were open, but procedure was to lock any new arrivals in for an hour or two, just to assess their disposition and allow them time to settle in. Still, the guard came nice and quickly to allow the newbie to enjoy the run of the place.

    Aila hurried down the hallway between the cells, quietly wondering what would happen if there was no cubicle available. She supposed she could just pretend she was the shy and retiring type, too anxious to perform in front of anyone. She didn't know much about the habits of men, but hopefully what she did know would be enough.

    Lucky for her, the place was empty, and the guard didn't seem to pay any attention to what she was doing in the cubicle, allowing her to conduct her business without question. So, shortly afterwards, Aila returned to her cell, sitting heavily on her bed as she muttered, "Where is everyone? And why aren't you with them?" Most of the cells were empty, and the only major sign of activity were the sounds coming from just beyond the far door, most of which seemed animated and relaxed. But, Jameson had remained here. Why was that?
     
  10. "Uh, well, there was supposed to be the finals of the inter-cell block tournaments today. I imagine a lot of people are getting ready for that. OH, not to mention the renovations to the new gym were supposed to be finished this week. Maybe that drew a crowd as well. As for me, I am just taking a day to myself. My partner was transferred to a different facility, so I was actually disqualified from that tournament. Besides, it's good to take some time for yourself. If I had done so, I might not be sitting in this cell right now."

    He rubs the back of his neck, just to keep from not doing anything. Getting up, Jameson looked out the pitiful window to see a nice, somewhat cloudy sky. "Hm. Perhaps I said make my way out there at some point. Haven't been in the pool for a few days. Maybe I should show you around and we both can take a dip. What do you think?"
     
  11. Aila listened with at least a modicum of patience, although her annoyance was palpable. Of course, this anger was not warranted, as her cell mate was only answering her question, and doing so rather well. His answer spoke of the mundane goings on in the day to day life of the prison, not to mention the more interesting aspects. The girl wondered whether she ought to use the gym, try to bulk herself up a bit. Right now, she looked like a weed, a thin scarecrow of a boy that was actually a carefully calculated look. It helped hide the natural curves a woman ought to have, aiding in the illusion that she had been keeping for the last few years.

    Needless to say - given her short temper - Aila did not take overly kindly to the suggestion of going for a dip in the pool. "I don't swim." Her words were concrete, matter of fact, although she thankfully held herself back from outright anger. "But, you can give me the tour, if you like." She spoke in a rather snooty manner, perhaps a shadow of her background, something she hadn't quite been able to shake off.
     
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