Dog Fights (IC)

Collab: Courtyard Press | Location: Courtyard | Interactions: Guards, Beddington, Chiko, Amit, Chloe, Bah, Luca


As Chiko waited for Bah’s response (aka the fate of her long awaited and desired victory), Amit just shook his head and tried to focus on other prisoners milling about the Courtyard. They seemed to be doing the usual; a couple were knocking back shots at the singular basketball hoop on the other end of the chamber, some other smaller groups were huddled together at tables, scouring the area like predators in their territory, while individual inmates roamed aimlessly. And, of course, Amit caught the venomous glares tossed his way, no matter how furtive they were.

Ah, his reputation did indeed take a nosedive over these past few days, didn’t it. Not only because of the stunt her pulled during the boiler explosion, but also because of his weak performance in Dog Fights. However, the terrorist was surprised by how… toned down the hostility was. He half-expected someone to pounce him by now.

Perhaps it had something to do with hovering near Bah? He is indeed of large and intimidating stature… Something about the beneficial setup annoyed Amit, so he tried to clear his thoughts of it--

”All available staff hands, call to attention. All available staff hands, call to attention. This is a Code Blue. I repeat, this is a Code Blue. All units launch into search parties immediately. Crate #ZH450. Crate #ZH450. I repeat. All available staff hands…”

All at once, the peace shattered.

Guards barked out orders and rushed through the hallways, the boots so eclectic that the noise threatened to echo throughout all of Hagur. A swarm of them bustled into the Courtyard, their Blazers and batons in hand, and formed three full rows in front of the entrance, banning the prisoners inside. From the corner of Amit’s vision, he saw one of them swipe a card over the newly installed scanner and a red light appeared, followed by the click and hiss of a lock.

“...Shit.” Cursing under his breath, the terrorist stood, though he faltered. He… It’d be unwise to try anything, especially when he had no idea what was going on. All that he knew for sure was the headache these employees were about to bring. Cautiously, he scooted over to Chiko who was completely oblivious and still invested in the game.

“Line up, dogs!” A guard yelled gruffly, his Blazer whirring to life.

“Line?” Chiko’s head popped up… Only for heat to fill her face at the slip up. That, uh… That definitely wasn’t the kind of line the guard meant, obviously. She glanced at Bah and Amit. “Yo, guys. What’s all this shiz going down?”

One arm looped gingerly around Chloe’s shoulder, the other twisting a strand of blonde around his fingers, Luca watched Bah and Chiko’s game with mild interest. She’d yet to defeat the gentle behemoth, and he might’ve been more invested in her potential victory, had the idea of competition not still left such a lingering distaste in his mouth. Things were… different. He could feel it. Not just between him and Clo, but everywhere. There was an air of edginess… a lingering sense of something building, brewing. The Dog Fights always led to some drama or another and this year wasn’t shaping up to be the exception…

A sudden commotion stole his attention from the game at hand, and shifting, letting his fingers untangle from Chloe’s hair, he pushed slowly upright, easing himself slightly in front of the blonde.

“...Don’t look promising…” He noted to Chiko’s question. But after Romana’s ridiculous exhibition a few days prior, he wasn’t looking to start trouble. Holding out a hand for Chloe, he nodded to the others, “Let’s find out...yeah?”

Bahram was ready to take down Chiko yet again as he reclined and lazily pulled back his newly braided hair(when Chloe was able to uncurl herself from Luca for a couple of minutes she was able to perform miracles). His lips puckered up and he occasionally sent mischievous glances from Chiko back to Amit. He had to admit(heh, Admit about Amit), that the terrorist wasn’t the worst person to spend time with. Telling that to the lasses back home was surely gonna give him head tilts, but he was honest. Chiko seemed comfortable around him, so Bahram wasn’t too wary around the man. Well. Trying not to be too wary.

However, the sudden commotion of guards caused his head to peek up from the job at hand. Oh. No. This wasn’t good in the slightest. First the Dog Fights was a total clusterfuck(as per the usual) and now this...well, Bahram didn’t wanna connect red strings where they didn’t belong, but for the meantime, his mental conspiracy board remained slung up. Slowly standing from his seat, he gave Chiko a reassuring smile. “Probably just wanna make sure none of us did any stupid shite. My guess is this won’t take long. Stay close to me and Amit tho, aight?”

Chloe had to admit, her body had relaxed and fallen much more at ease than it had in a long time. Despite the small misstep the night prior, that memory was close to melting away. Even if it meant a small ping of embarrassment lingering in her head.

Humming against Luca’s touch, Chloe’s eyes threatened to droop close, just relieved to have a moment to them and without the fear of the second round. As guilty as she felt for not furthering Luca into the fight...there was a heavy amount of relief flooding through her system.

That is, until the guards voice rang through her ears and her eyes pried open. “L-Luca w-what’s going on?” She stammered, rubbing the sand out of her eyes before grasping his hand and pulling herself up. “L-lets n-not g-g-give too m-much of a p-protest. I-I d-don’t w-wanna g-get shot…”

“Err…” Chiko switched a glance unsurely between the game and everyone else’s reaction, the tiniest hint of a war raging in her mind. “Mmkay then.” Crap--just as she was about to finally beat Bah! Then this had to happen. The timing of these guards just flat out sucked. Swallowing back a pout, she stood and followed the others as they formed a long line of prisoners. It reached from one end of the massive courtyard to the other, their jumpers nearly brushing at the shoulders. Chiko had heeded Bah’s word though, and wedged herself in between him and Amit, watching the guards curiously.

A single officer pulled herself from the masses, her posture aloof yet radiating confidence so self-assured that it was initially jarring. Her wild dirty blond mane was pulled back into a puffy ponytail, putting her indifferent expression on full display. Lazy. A nametag rested on the right of her chest, which read Lieutenant N. Beddington.

“Alrighty ladies and gents, we’re gonna keep this nice and clean. Meaning your backdoor orifices are in the green today, so unclench and relax.” Her voice carried over the prisoners like a whack to the face from someone’s ornery grandmother. She paced back and forth, sizing up each inmate. She momentarily gave pause while passing Bah, lips pursed as if she was impressed by the giant, then kept it moving. “Don’t try holding onto those tongues, though. You hear that siren, shit’s amuck. Even more important shit has gone missing. And uh…”

Beddington scratched her nose, sniffling sharply. Whew--she almost sneezed and ruined the atmosphere. “Our favorite bitch upstairs ain’t too happy about that. Entire ship’s on lockdown until we find it. Now guys… I love your company just as much as ya can’t live without mines, but why don’t we speed this up?” The Lieutenant came to a stop at the center of the line and folded her arms. “If you know anything, better wise up and confess now.”

Luca’s fingers curled around Chloe’s as he spaced her just slightly behind his shoulder. He had recognized three of the grunts behind the good Lieutenant… familiar faces he had rather hoped never to see again. The same creeps that had taken him, Bah and their favorite terrorist for a post dinner stroll. If these numbskulls were involved, whatever reassurances Beddington was spewing were swiftly lost on Luca.

He shot Bah a look, before tuning his focus, taking in the woman’s words with a sense of irritation. Ramona was always unhappy. How anyone could tell the difference, he didn’t know. As she continued, however, his eyes narrowed just slightly, “...Way I remember it, last time there was a shake up, it felt a whole lot like Romana’s doing… Used it to drag our asses into the Fights, anyway. Who’s to say she didn’t orchestrate this, too?”

“Thank God. I didn’t think any of ya lads were feelin anal today anyway.” Bahram shot with a light smile, although felt a tremor of disgust roll through his shoulders with what he had said. Heh. Pun intended. “Oi, I don’t know anything about no missing shite.” He caught the guard giving him a quick glance, merely nodding his respect to her as she went along. She was an amusing character from what he remembered, and he wasn’t so concerned with the rest of the group getting blazed. Then again, his brow did furrow in concern. It didn’t necessarily surprise him that someone was pulling this shite close to round two. Romana didnt tend to let shite like this happen, though, so concern leaped into his throat. Not to mention the three familiar guards who tried to pay them off for their bets in the fight. Aye. This was about to go swell. “We have no reason to steal, believe me, after yesterday’s beatin none of us wanna risk getting some steel in the head. I just wanna beat by favorite co prisoner at battle ship.”

Chloe shifted uncomfortably. This...this wasn’t good. Wouldn’t they have the security cameras to show who stole what? Unless Ramona was really being a bitch today, or, well, this was much worse than she thought. She swallowed and pressed her knuckles to her throat. “D-dont t-think a-any o-of us d-did m-m-m-miss. N-nor d-do I-I th-think any of u-us had t-time.”

“Ahaaa, jeez!” A powerful shiver coursed through Beddington’s body, before shaking off the last of it with some impressive jazz fingers. “You saw that, Freckles? That’s what you call catching the holy ghost. Whew--never thought you could outshine Pastor Reynolds, but that was some heavy truth, buddy.” A round of grimaces crossed the faces of guards and inmates unlike, far from amused by the Lieutenant’s antics.

She didn’t pay them any mind. Grinning, Beddington strutted up to Luca and scanned him up and down the same way she had done with Bah. “Just a shame you’re misplacing all that weight, aye? Romana’s a manipulative bitch, but she’s a damn controlling one, too. So, uh, like ole shamrock said…” She took a step back from Luca, giving the man breathing room again, and flashed an easy smile. “We all just wanna play battle ships and let this shit show blow over.”

“Wait… who?” Chiko’s brow furrowed in confusion, before Bah’s statement finally clicked in her head. “Oi! The fuck you mean by that? WAS I EVEN GONNA WIN THAT ROUND--”

“Easy, doll!” Beddington said with a laugh. “Your head explodes and it’s on your friends to clean that up. I don’t think they’ll appreciate the stress. But anyway…”

In the next fraction of a heartbeat, her mood sombered in tandem with her expression, falling into something beyond unreadable. “Gluckman! Kolkowsky! Price!” She barked out the succession of names with unwavering authority and the trio of guards were helpless to resist an obedience so deeply drilled into them that it was instinctual. Posture erect, they squeezed through the crowd and stood at attention to Beddington’s right, awaiting her orders.

She nodded towards Luca and Bah. “These, uh… These the ones, yeah?” she asked.

The guards stiffened further, before a dark and deeply ingrained agitation burned them from the inside out, shooting harsh glares into the men’s form. “Sure are,” Gluckman growled.

“What of it, Lieutenant?” Kolkowsky grumbled.

“What of it? Really?” Beddington heaved a snort of disbelief before smacking all three men in the chest. “C’mon, now! Ya damn three stooges couldn’t keep your heads on straight yesterday, all cuz of them! Heh,” she pointed at Amit, who nearly jolted at the action, “You too, Lil Tic Toc! Done went and sent my entire crew up into flames. Chili faces and everything; was a damn show.”

“With all due respect, Lieutenant…” This time it was Price who spoke up. “What’s the point of bringing this up now?” He shot a quick glance at Amit, pure hatred kindling behind his eyes. The terrorist swallowed dryly and tried to avoid his gaze with the iota of effort his body could muster. Tried to forget the beating he’d branded so harshly into the prisoner’s nerves that he would catch phantom pains for the next few months.

“You tryna say I’m wasting time, Price? Huh?” Beddington scratched her scalp, pinning the man down with a placid stare. Price fumbled for a response.

“I… No. N-no, not at all, lieutenant. I’m just, err, we’re failing to understand what you’re--”

“Well here comes the sun, do do-do do,” the woman interrupted, “Hand over your Blazers and batons. All three of ya.”

A brief pause.

“Wait…” Gluckman’s brow pinched. “What? Why?”

“Cuz I said so...” And just like that, ice coated the back of Beddington’s throat and she pierced the men with a glare so frigid that they suddenly lost the ability to produce body heat. Breaking out into a cold sweat, the guards obeyed and relieved their weapons to another guard, who held onto them dutifully. Beddington grinned. “Great! So, uh,” She looked back at the inmates, “Freckles, Freckles’ lil Sugar Bottom,” A knowing look shot in Chloe’s direction, “Shamrock, and Tic Toc… Step forward.”

Chiko frowned. “Heyyy, what about me??”

“Denied,” Beddington sang coyly.

“Lieutenant!” Gluckman pressed, his face burning pink with annoyance. “Could you please tell us what the hell you’re up to?!”

The woman shrugged. “What can I say? I’m no control freak like Psycho Madame, but I like a crew with clear heads. But your noggins? Phew!” She unleashed another chuckle, arms folded. “Shit’s spilling over with the ole gambling blue balls.”

“Shouldn’t we focus on the fucking cra--”

“Step on forward, lucky contestants!”

Jaw clenched like melded steel, Luca didn't remove his eyes from the woman, even as the show went on. Freckles. God. How long had it been since…

Nope. Not important.

His grip on Chloe tightened, and as the guards were relieved of their weapons and they were addressed to step forward, Luca's brow twitched. She was a shark… but for the first time in a long time as Hagur, Luca didn't feel like dead meat walking.

Probably a mistake, but hell…

Slowly, giving Clo, Bah and Amit a slow nod, he took a step forward.

Bahrams lips ripped into a grin as Chiko commented about their game, trying to keep a poker face on as to not reveal his win. Score. It’s alright Chiko, he was more than happy to play another round. And so was Beddington, it appeared. Bahram had to admit, this was the first line up he felt airy. At ease. Despite seeing the three guards, he merely gave them a cheery smile. But, the amusement soon faded as the woman took away their weapons, bewilderment coating his features.

“That was a plot twist I didn’t see coming.” He commented slowly without another pleasant grin, although an iota of worry danced in his stomach. This didn’t make much sense now did it… however Bahram didn’t question it, stepping in toe and bobbing his head respectfully towards Beddington. “Yes miss?”

Chloe blinked. How were Bahram, Luca and Amit affiliated with the guards in question? Understanding crept into her mind as soon as questioning appeared. Luca and guards. Don’t ask. Something stupid happened, she was sure. Swallowing hard, she squeezed his hand and couldn’t help but grin at the guards behavior. “L-little m-miss s-sugar b-bottom. T-thanks.” She stammered with a tease, swallowing after a moment er, hopefully that didn’t step over anything.

Beddington slapped both hands over her heart, faking a swoon. “Aw, don’t go giving me that look now, Sugar Bottom. Not when your boy toy’s lookin’.” She shot a wink at Luca before waving off Bah’s comment. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing. I’m all for plot twists, Shamrock. It’s what I do. Now then…” She adjusted her waistbelt, the motion exaggerated and a tad goofy, as she scanned over the presented inmates. Then to her baffled guards… Alrighty.

“Mmkay. Gluckman to the happy couple! Kolkowsky, start hiking and don’t keep Shamrock waiting! Mr. Price is Right--you’ve got Tic Toc! Rest of you Dogs? At ease, fuck off, whatever speaks your language.” She flashed a grin that was borderline devilish. “I think all of you need a little heart to heart, yeah? Talk out feelings and all that good shit?”

Gluckman blinked. “...Lieutenant, you can’t be serious.”

“Oi!” Beddington presented herself, arms splayed as if she was a New Yorker setting up for a fist fight. “My comedian days are behind me! This ain’t no joke. You guys got beef? You better sort it now while we’re all here. Not like they know where the crates are anyhow.”

The trio of guards shifted uncomfortably, casting glances at their silently amused coworkers. As always, they were beyond confused and had no idea what their superior was planning. Regardless, orders were orders, even if they were from a new officer like Beddington.

Reluctantly, Gluckman approached Luca and Chloe, Kolkowsky shuffled up to Bah grumpily, and Price stomped up to a sweating Amit like a bull. The terrorist swallowed dryly, casting a glance back at the dismissed prisoners; however, instead of returning to their seats, they remained hovering about, watching the show curiously. Among that crowd, his gaze landed on Chiko, whose features were pinched in equal parts concern and bafflement.

...Gods. Amit had failed to pray since coming to Hagur but right now, he desperately needed the blessing of a higher being. He parted his lips to speak. “I…”

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Price growled, his arms folded and making the muscles of his biceps bulge. It was moments like these that Amit wished he had enough patience to attend the gym. The terrorist clamped his mouth shut, sweat rolling down his temple. Satisfied with the compliance, Price loomed closer and his whisper oozed with pure venom. “Looks like the wacky bitch wants us to talk… I don’t know what the fuck for, but fine by me.” His eyes narrowed. “I got a bone to pick with your Ala loving ass anyhow.”

“Well, if it isn’t the lovely losers of Hagur,” Gluckman drawled, a mixture of boredom and annoyance clear in his tone. Something mocking slithered into his words. “Damn shame you couldn’t even make it past round one… Guess neither of you were worth the bets after all, let alone worth anything to begin with.”

Meanwhile, Kolkowsky stared up at Bah’s massive stature while internally wishing he at least still had his Blazer handy. This was bullshit.

Beddington meandered around the conversing groups and watched them like a predator, her pace sluggish and preppy at the same time. She hummed something unrecognizable under her breath, though it was easy to tell that she was terribly off key.

Games.

Everyone wanted to play games. This wasn’t prison. This was a joke - at least to the people running it, and Luca was beyond tired of being treated like a freakin’ puppet. Romana. Beddington. They were all the same. Sadistic children with a full toy box. And he was over it. As Beddington barked out orders to the guards, Luca’s grip on Chloe tightened and a frown crossed his lips. Subtly, he leaned closer to her and his lips brushed her temple in a kiss, as a whisper escaped, “...Follow my lead.”

A moment later, the guard was in front of them, and opening his fat yapper, the vitriol escaped in an unintelligible clot of idiotic word vomit. Holding Chloe’s hand, staring at the man with as blank an expression as his freckled face could manage, Luca said nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

“Ah! Hello good sir! It is good to see you well, I am so sorry that you have had the misfortune of such a...chaotic morning.” Bahram beamed warmly at the man who had attempted to sway him into killing innocent(well, not innocent. Not by the law. Innocent as in they didn’t do anything to him in particular) prisoners. He placed out his hand in a friendly gesture, head tilting. “No hard feelings, yes? It was a good thing you didn’t have us do that, aye? And for shame too. I’m sort of glad I didn’t win that fight. If I’ve learned anything, you bet on the underdog. Gotta mix up the arena every once in awhile.”

Chloe blinked in confusion and a small trace of horror as the man approached them, her hand squeezing Luca’s in warning. “W-what t-the h-hell I-is going o-on?” She hissed in response, surprised to find that Luca went silent(for once. She loved that man. She did. She promised she did). She swallowed hard at the guard and merely gave him a small beam. “T-thanks f-for t-the r-reminder s-s-s-sweetie. G-glad t-to s-s-see y-you a-are c-chip...ch-chipper. Y-your I-idea t-to e-even th-th...think about b-betting f-for the s-stammer…” she took a deep breath, realizing her cheeks were red with effort. She grinned. “A-and the m-man w-who m-missed”

Kolkowsky grimaced at the outstretched hand, nearly reeling back as if expecting a punch to knock his lights out. He couldn’t fucking stand this giant’s “polite” attitude; it never failed to irk his nerves, along with several other staff members around the ship. Grumbling, the guard took a step back and sliced into Bah with the deadliest glare he could muster. “I swear you’re more annoying than my shit for brains sister, and she’s adopted,” he muttered. As the large man went to explain how grateful he was for skipping out on taking lives, he bared his teeth with a hiss, “Maybe keep your fucking voice down!”

But it was too late.

“And that’s one.”

The comment came from Beddington, who circled past the pair without sparing them a glance, her path casually taking her over to Luca, Chloe, and Gluckman next. As she left, Kolkowsky could feel the back of his uniform soaking up sweat. That… That wasn’t good.

“Oh, trust me, sweetheart,” Gluckman sneered while rolling his eyes. “The only bet me and the boys had on you was dying the moment that Timer went off. Soggy paper had more chance at surviving than you did.” He skimmed her up and down. “It’s a miracle you’re in one piece, though my money sure wish you weren’t.”

His gaze then strayed over to Luca. “...The hell is your problem? Suddenly the Dog with the biggest mouth on Hagur can’t speak up?” He had failed to notice Beddington hovering nearby, her smirk lop-sided and curious as she listened in from a safe distance. All the drama. Drama, drama, and more drama. Where was the popcorn when she needed it?

Fortunately for Price, that gave him free reign to spit some fire in Amit’s face, his face turning red with bubbling agitation. He had closed the distance between them significantly, a fist curling into the terrorist’s jumper. “You had one job,” he growled, “One. Fucking. Job. How hard is it to make a simple fucking bomb when you’re a terrorist?” He heaved a yank, nearly ripping oxygen from the smaller man’s lungs. “And what the hell was with that fire?” His gaze narrowed. “Don’t think I’m stupid. They didn’t burn a single thing… What kind of shit did you pull? Are you suicidal? Huh?”

A weak defiance invaded Amit’s features. “You’ll never know,” he muttered tightly.

Or not.

In a perfect world, maybe it would've worked, but apparently not today. As Chloe took the bait, Luca fought a grimace. So much for the silent treatment. Releasing her hand, Luca eased closer to the guard. A slow, calculating step, his eyes skimming the man with a shake of his head.
"Last I heard, Precious, it was you with the biggest mouth on Hagur, but maybe that's something else you wanna keep on the DL?"

“Oi. You can come after me but comin after a man’s sister is crossin a line.” His eyes narrowed and features darkened slightly as his arms came to cross. He straightened his back, making himself as big as possible, before an absolutely pleasant smile ripped across his features. He loved the sound of the guard’s voice as he spoke of his mistakes. It was music to his ears. “Oi? Sorry about that lad. Sometimes I talk louder than I mean to. Did I say somethin not to your likin there?”

“Y-yeah. I-I’m n-not g-g-g-gonna l-lie, I-I’ve g-g-got the s-s-strength of t-t-two l-layered t-t-t-toliet p-paper. M-makes m-me g-g-g-good for s-s-something t-t-though. I-I r-r-respond w-w-well to the sh-shit t-that c-c-comes out o-of your m-mouth.” She grinned, finding a small amount of fear escaping her. However, the moment that Luca had stepped forward, her hand grasped around his arm pleadingly, trying to pull him back to no avail. “Don’t. You. Dare. Carino.” She managed, patient, smiling.

Kolkowsky’s face pulsed beet red, teeth gnashing as he glared up at Bah. This fucking, manipulative mutt. On instinct, his hand flew down to his holster, intent on zapping the giant until he was foaming at the mouth… Only to remember that Beddington had rid him of his weapons. He expelled an exasperated huff. “You have no clue what you’ve just done, idiot!” His desperate gaze snapped over to Beddington, anxiety bubbling up his gut.

The woman in question had meandered over to Price and Amit again, as silent as ever. Unlike the guard himself, whose ire was building more and more by the second. “Don’t act any dumber than you already are,” Price grumbled. He still had a steel grip on Amit, who allowed the treatment with a dull glaze in his eyes.

“What’s done is done,” he muttered. “You cannot fault me--”

“But I fucking will!” Finally, Price released Amit with a harsh shove, staring down the man with blatant disgust. “And so will Romana… Enjoy the time you’ve got left, cuz it won’t last long.”

“And that’s the Second Coming.”

Again, it was Beddington. She tip-toed past Price and around behind Amit like a sloth fairy. Or fairy sloth. Whichever. Regardless, like before, she didn’t say anything else and paced back over to Gluckman.

The man in question glared at Chloe’s comment, his jaw clenching like steel. He nearly pounced on the woman until Luca sauntered into his personal space. A cold indifference rolled over the man, staring at Luca like he was a dead fly on his windshield. “The only thing I’m itching to put down is you and the dandelion fighting your battles.” His gaze hardened. “Honestly sounds much better than that stupid list. Just you wait, mutt--”

“And that is strike three!” Beddington cheered with a power crouch and fist pump, before throwing her arm out like a baseball referee. A smile brighter than the sun graced her lips, hands on her hips as she shook her head. “I call this meeting adjourned!”

A pause.

Beddington’s smile disappeared. “Hand over your badges, boys.”

There it was. The threat. These chumps were all the same. Hiding behind their big mouths and fancy weapons. Only there were no blazers now, and it was with every ounce of strength Luca possessed that he held himself back. They couldn't get a rise out of him that easily… not when he didn't know the rules of whatever twisted game Beddington was playing. What mattered was keeping himself between the meat head thug… and Clo.

He could understand her hesitancy to trust his judgment. He'd never been accused of having a cool head… but there was no reason to jump the gun. Not yet. And it stung just slightly that for the second time she seemed apprehensive to rely on him.

As the threat was issued, Luca's fists tightened slightly, but he didn't budge, and as Beddington interrupted, a brow rose in suspicion…

“Oh, I knew exactly what I was doing sir. Did you?” Bahram questioned, a mischievous grin blossoming across his features as Beddington demanded for their badges to be handed over. Damn. He should have known this was gonna come back one way or another. Just...not this way. He didn’t think he’d even have a good day here and yet...he was grinning almost ear to ear. “I wish you the best, sir.”

You say these things about me without knowing what sort of shit I survived. You try having a six pound baby rip through your body that was barely grown to be able to carry it. Dumb fuck.

Chloe simply kept the smile. “I-I’m a w-w-w-weed in t-t-the g-g-grass, b-babe. K-k-keep c-c-c-coming back.” She cooed, wriggling her fingers at him, noting the small amount of disappointment that rolled off of Luca in waves. She swallowed and went to grasp his hand. Was she sorry? Perhaps. Did she regret it? No. God. As scary as it was...it felt good. “O-oh, b-by t-the w-w-way. I-I c-c-can finally s-s-say this. Fuck. You. Ass. Hat.” Her face went pale. “H-have a-a-a n-nice day.”

The guard trio fell silent, so much so that one could hear a pin needle drop. The three men paled in shock, finding themselves speechless and unable to figure out what to do with themselves.

“L… L-lieutenant,” Gluckman stuttered in utter disbelief, whirling around to face the woman. “Y-you can’t be serious! Why do we--”

“Yeesh!” Beddington scratched her wild mane again. “This is why I’m not a cat lady, all this kitty hissin’ is giving me a migraine. You heard me loud and clear, Gluckman.” She held out her hand expectantly. “Badges. Don’t be shy now.”

“No… No! Hell no!” Kolkowsky also stepped forward, stomping up to stand next to Gluckman. “Not until you tell us why! We’ve been dealing with your crazy shit the moment you got here! If anything, it’s these disrespectful mutts that need the punishing! Not us!”

“Wowww…” Beddington cast a glance at the inmates while jabbing a finger at the guards. “Sorry you had to share oxygen with this batch for so long. Seriously. Hope the dumbassery isn’t airborne.” She turned her attention back to the trio, eyebrow quirked. “Mmmm-righty then. You want an explanation that bad? Fine. I got no problem running my mouth, if ya couldn’t tell.” She barked another laugh, before sobering up quickly and tilting her head. “Look… I don’t know what kinda management your unit had before me, but I’m not gonna walk around and let ass crumbs like you bribe people to kill. You wanna place bets? Hell,” she shrugged, “Be my fucking guest. But the moment you wanna turn this into a rigged blood bath?”

She raised her hands, lips pursed with indifference. “You gotta go… Been meaning to trim off the fat--that’s you, by the way--for a while now. So hey! Everything works out!”

The look of uncertainty lingered as Luca watched the display, lip twitching into a frown at the woman’s words, “...Trim the fat…” He repeated, shaking his head, “You think giving the boot to a few garbage guards is gonna fix this place? Your boss probably hired these idiots to rig it. Not like it’s the first time she’s done it… and hell if anyone seems to give a damn what happens to us. Screw the fights… This whole place is rigged…”

“Lad...don’t think the Lieutenant can exactly overthrow the Queen here…” Bahram frowned, curious as to why she would want to, as she said, skin the fat from the prison. Was she a righteous guard? Seeming bizarrely friendly with the prisoners, and not that Bahram was ungrateful, no, he was rather humored by her gesture, something just tickled the back of his head. “But uh, heh, thanks for that lass. I’m sure these gentlemen would be happy to get back to earth anyway…”

“S-so...w-what e-exactly w-was this b-betting a-about?”

God, there was nothing Beddington loved more than the sound of ungrateful brat in the morning. Or was it afternoon? Eh, time was irrelevant when in space, she figured. Grinning, she winked at Luca and said, “You’re welcome, Freckles. And uh, if you got anymore ground-shaking epiphanies to share, please, don’t hesitate to come find me.” Despite her words, her tone failed to hold any sarcasm and she bored into the prisoner with a meaningful look. “Just look for the lion’s mane and keep an ear out for this sexy voice, yeah?”

At Bah’s comment, her smile made a comeback, and she shot finger guns at the man. “Ayyyye, now that’s what I like to hear! Good to know some trees still got manners these days. And Sugar Bottom…” She shook her head in playful exasperation, hand on her hip. “You telling me ya don’t know? Some of these idiots ‘round here,” a head nod towards the guards, “Like to bet on who wins and who loses good ole Dog Fights… Just a damn shame that they gotta play dirty in a game that’s already dirty as hell. Anyways,” She snapped her fingers and pointed at Gluckman. “You first, twinky. Badge.”

Heat flooded Gluckman’s face, his fury growing palpable. There was no way he’d let some loud-mouthed, cocky, unprofessional newbie embarrass him in front of the staff and strip him of his job. Teeth clenched, he started advancing on the woman, his form straightening menacingly. “Over my dead body!”

Like mindless minions, Price and Kolkowsky also stood their ground, glares trained on Beddington.

The Lieutenant guffawed. “Oi, you kidding me?” In an instant, the rest of the guards raised their Blazers, leveling them on the men and making them halt where they stood… Only for Beddington to raise her hand. “Nah, nah, it’s fine. Might be fun.” There was a moment of hesitation; however, they heeded her orders and lowered their guns, eyes trained on the ex-guards.

Gratitude. What a damn funny concept. He couldn't tell entirely if the woman genuinely thought she was helping, or just didn't care that she was painting a bigger target on the four of them. Romana loved nothing more than discord… Especially when it meant beating on the prisoners. Firing the guards… it wouldn't stick unless the Devil's mistress saw a reason for it.

But as they started forward, Luca didn't hesitate to step up beside the Lieutenant, fists knotted, "Maybe let's not do this…”

“I. Don’t bet. On. You. Lasting a moment.” Chloe called to the man, Gluckman, eyes narrowed as she took a short step forward. “I. Think. You’d rather.” A deep breath as the strain became racketing against her skull. It took every iota of her energy to concentrate on getting her words clear. She had to be clear. “Give up. Your pride. Then. Get shocked. To piss. In front. Of. Your. In...inferiors. Funny end. I’d bet. On it.” She smiled. “Pussy.”

Gluckman’s stride faltered the moment Chloe’s words hit his ears and against his own accord, blood drained from his face. What in the actual Sam Hell was this mousey woman going on about? Even with her words coming through clearly, the disjointed and chopped manner of them came across as… disturbing. He pivoted to face her, eyes widening a tad with anxiety, before looking back at Beddington and Luca. Then down to his empty waist holsters. That bitch inmate wouldn’t do anything, would she? The Lieutenant was a joke and Luca was barely a problem for him to bat an eyelash at, but now, doubt began to gnaw at his thoughts.

Move? Or not to move? He couldn’t afford to freeze up now, not when his enraged comrades were already following his league…

Trapped in his own head, the man fell to a stand still, only for Kolkowsky and Price barrel forward like angry bulls. The former tried to bulldoze into Beddingtong, while the latter did the same for Luca.

“Oop, hello,” Beddington muttered while whipping out her baton. Kolkowsky’s meaty fist swung wide, aiming straight for her temple…

His fist sliced through air. Kolkowsky blinked and stumbled forward, his brain failing to comprehend what just happened. Before he could do anything else, a baton rammed into his jaw with bone-rattling impact, forcing him to keel to the side. Then another blow rammed into his kneecap. A loud pop emitted from his leg.

“Ah, shit,” Beddington hissed in sympathy while watching the man writhe on the floor, heaving guttural cries while cradling his knee. She grimaced. “My bad. Forgot to hold back. I blame it on the coffee.”

When the men bolted forward, Luca’s back straightened, and bucking to the side, he slid out his foot, to hook Price’s ankle as the idiot guard stumbled past him, “...Generally apprehensive about your kinda people, lady. But you’re growin’ on me.” He muttered, “Hell if I know that’s a good thing or not in this place.”

For the first time since she got here, Chloe was severely considered taking a heavy amount of alcohol into her system. Rolling her eyes as the two guards approached her, surprised that fear didn’t grab hold, she hobbled beside Luca as the man tripped over his foot, and raising her own, she prayed that her aim remained true…

Grimacing as her foot both miraculously and horribly connected with the man’s unmentionables, Chloe quickly retracted herself from his curled up form. “T-that w-was fun.” She paused. “I-I m-mean I-I’m s-s-sorry!”

That trip and kick combo was more than enough to put Price out of commission. He remained curled up on the floor, heaving pained coughs. Beddington chuckled at the sight, just soaking in the display before flashing Luca and Chloe a lopsided grin. “Very nice. Your Love Bug’s got a knack for gonad kickin’, Freckles. Much respect. And hey,” her eyes twinkled with mirth, “What can I say? I’m like a weed. Growing’s my job. Just don’t rush the process.”

Gluckman, who was still frozen in place, gaped in horror as his friends fell over defeated in the blink of an eye. This… This was not good, at all. He was all alone, pinned against three people, and entirely weaponless. He needed to do something. Anything besides standing there like a deer caught in headlights.

However, he jolted in surprise when something collided into him from behind. It wasn’t much, nowhere near enough strength to knock him over, and growling, he turned around to face Amit. The terrorist flinched away, immediately regretting his decision.

Oh gods. Oh gods. That wasn’t wise in the slightest. He should’ve learned about controlling impulses ever since speaking out against Romana but, apparently, he hadn’t. The terrorist stumbled back, trying to out-pace Gluckman as he approached, but his efforts were futile. A heavy punch drove deep into his gut and he heaved a cough from the pit of his lungs, keeling over. Regrets. So many regrets. Gluckman’s hand then curled around the terrorist’s throat, raising him up to eye level.

“If I’m getting booted from this ship, there’s no way in hell I’m letting your traitorous ass off easy,” he snarled.

Stepping away from the crotch-crushed guard, Luca’s eyes narrowed at the third and final idiot, fists balling as he moved closer, “You guys really just don’t learn, do you…” Eyes on Amit for a moment, on the hand wrapped around Amit’s throat, Luca bolted without warning, colliding into the guard’s side with what he hoped was enough force to jar the man away, without hurting the terrorist…

Which was just a damn crazy thought…

Bahram pushed himself forward as Amit was handled by Gluckman, grasping the guard by the collar as he lurched forward, unable to quite rip the man from Amits throat. “Oi! Off ‘em!” He exclaimed, syllables blurred and garbled as he tugged once again, surprised to find that the guard had an iron grip on the poor boy.

Chloe’s mind didn’t quite process the exact events that led to her behind Gluckman, her heel digging sharply into the back of the man’s legs. “C-c-c-come o-on d-d-dandelion…” She hissed, retracting from him when she found this didn’t work.

Gluckman grunted and stumbled with every push and pull, his teeth gnashing in annoyance. And yet, his hold on Amit remained, his balance cemented into place, and his festering rage the only thing giving him the advantage over the prisoners.

Until a small form squeezed into the tight space between him and the terrorist. And drove a monstrous punch into his gut. The ex-guard heaved a cough of surprise while doubling over, releasing Amit to cradle his stomach. Chiko shoved him back, standing protectively in front of the terrorist as her eyes glistened with tears of frustration. “Back the fuck off!” she yelled.

The combination of shock and force behind the push sent Gluckman peddling straight into Beddington’s reach, who casually used the momentum against him to kick the man’s feet out from underneath him. At the same time, her fingers crooked into the vulnerable flesh of his throat and slammed him back-first to the floor, knocking the wind clean out of him. “Ah, all these fucking impulses, I swear,” she chuckled.

Gluckman didn’t move after that, completely knocked out like a light.

The lieutenant took in the fallen men, lips pursed like a duck and wholly impressed. “...Hokay. That was a shitshow, but it was a damn fun one--”

Security breach… Security breach… Security breach…

All of a sudden, red strobe lights descended from the ceiling and filled the Courtyard, followed by a distinct click from the doors. They peeled open with a hiss, allowing the chaotic noise of freed prisoners to spill into the area. Immediately, the remaining prisoners in the Courtyard began to bustle and shift about restlessly, growing antsy as they heard their brethren bask in the freedom. Noticing the calm before the storm, Beddington raised a hand, a silent command for the guards to raise their Blazers.

“Oi! Don’t do anything stupid! You all keep calm and stay here!”

But it was no use.

Not a moment after the last syllable escaped her, the inmates exploded into a mad dash for the exit, cutting through the guards and Beddington’s defenses like hot butter. “Sonuva--!” Beddington immediately flopped to the ground, arms barred over her head as she prayed for a crushed-free fate. Miraculously enough, the prisoners had enough awareness to sprint around her while tackling guards out of the way, their howls spilling into the halls. She sat up, staring at the retreating men and women in disbelief.

“...This day. This fucking day, ladies and gents,” she muttered breathlessly while staggering to her feet. Huffing, she turned to face the remaining prisoners and, for once, she didn’t have an immediate reply or snarky comment to toss out. She watched them with muted caution, muscles prepped in the case of any of them pouncing in the light of a fresh rebellion.

Amit was too frozen with shock to do much. All his body could register was Chiko’s tight embrace around his middle, face buried into his chest, while his arms looped subconsciously around like a protective cocoon. “Wh… What is this?”

"It's a riot…" Luca answered grimly, instinct driving him closer to Chloe, a hand resting on her forearm, "And it ain't good. Happened once, back home… mi hermano... It's like they all go loco. Like animals." Turning, Luca looked first to Amit, then Beddington, "You two? You need to stick with us. This is about to get ugly."

“Nice shot there lass.” Bahram called out gingerly to Chiko, sensing the anger and frustration rolling off of her. As much as he was prideful of her, he didn’t want to infuse too much enthusiasm just yet. That would come at a later date, he knew for certain. However, as the bundle of prisoners rushed past him and his...ragtag group, he kept a hand on both Amit’s shoulder and on Chloe’s wrist as to keep them beside him, just in case it would turn into a Stampede. He stayed put, however, knowing that it was no use to get into the anarchy now. They would be punished, he was sure, and he was not the one to get into the fray (except that band from what, a thousand years ago? But that was beside the point).

“Oi, lad, you aight?” He inquired to Amit after a moment.

“T-t-this i-i-s a f-fun morning.” Chloe stammered, stiffened as a variety of other prisoners rushed past them, relieved for both Bahram and Luca in that moment. As much as she had considered death by blazer before, and this wouldn’t be the worst time, she found her feet stuck to the floor and a lump in her throat. “Y-y-y-you d-d-deserve a-a-a va...vacation, m-miss.” She claimed to Beddington, watching the prisoners rush out into the hallway. God. Bless. All of them.

Beddington allowed herself to visibly relax. No, made a conscious effort of it. She could appear as unguarded as the inmates wanted, but there was no way in hell she would actually drop it while in the middle of a prison riot. She quirked an eyebrow at Luca’s comment, a hint of amusement spreading across her otherwise unreadable face. “Oh? So uh, I’m guessing my crew is chopped liver, then?” She managed to tag on a hasty “They’re more like chopped morons” under her breath and blatantly ignored some of the grumbles escaping her fellow officers. Heh, she couldn’t help herself. She folded her arms. “But seriously, Freckles, I got a code to live by. I’m still Lieutenant and you’re still a prisoner; I’m obligated to have all of you detained and back in your cells immediately.”

Her thought process was disrupted by Sugar Bottom’s sweet talk. “Damn, you sure know how to stroke my ego, huh? Who taught you how to ass-kiss, my ex?” With a sigh, she reached around to free her hair of its band, a giant mane of dirty blond sprouting like a bush from her head. The strain was starting to inspire a headache--well, that and the bullshit going off around her like canons. Details, details.

The violent screams and noise of fists clashing into flesh pulled her back to reality. Oh yeah. Right. Hell on Earth.

Wait… Screw it. The audience knew what she meant. Everybody was a heckler.

“You come with us quietly, get these cuffs on, and cooperate, yeah? Don’t make me work as much as my position actually requires. That’s for the birds.”

“All due respect, lady… and I mean that, truly, but I ain’t puttin’ on cuffs in the middle of a damn prison riot. Your kind… you’re outnumbered right now, three-to-one, and the difference between you and them is they don’t give half a rat’s ass about no code. And in here? They get ahold of someone like you, they’re not just gonna kill you like they will your crew, if you catch my drift? You wanna get through this, you’re gonna need to trust us. You can chuck us in a cell, later, if you want. For now… we may be your best shot at gettin’ out of this alive.”

“If I may...um, as much as I appreciate the work you do here lass, and yes, that be a kiss up if there ever was one.” Bahram granted the lieutenant a playful wink, pleasantly clasping his hands in front of him. “If...well, that door be broke, I imagine the cells are too, and keeping us in there aint gonna go the way ya think. Believe me here Lucky is...a favorite of AM, not gonna lie to ya lass about that, he ain’t gonna stab ya in the back. I’ll whoop his sorry arse if he does.” Bahram rubbed the back of his head, eyes gazing to the guards back to his group. “Doesn’t mean you have to trust us implicitly, but believe us lass, we want this chaos as much as you do.”

“Y-you k-know L-Lennon?” Chloe cooed teasingly, although the moment that name escaped her mouth chills climbed down her spine. She rubbed her arm awkwardly, tempted to hold out her hands for the cuffs, until Bahrams words rang true in her head. “M-miss? I-I u-under...f-fuck…” swallowing down as her words became difficult to breathe, she huffed in frustration. “J-just...d-don’t w-want a-a-any o-of us t-to d-die, ya? I-I j-just w-wanna g-go b-back t-to my c-crochets...w-we c-can h-help. A-a little m-more a-assistance, ya?”

“Do ya know Cotton? Good kid; might be your cousin? Kinda Jewish looking?” Beddington said while shooting Chloe a quick grin, then switching attention back to Luca and Bah. They were making… a hell of a sound argument. And she didn’t exactly care for it. Nothing about this set up sat well in her gut, although she could admit there was plenty of potential “fun factor” involved.

“Christ, you two. Don’t you know a woman doesn’t like to sound wrong? Then again, I doubt that’s the last thing they teach ya in Social Etiquette.” They should though. It’d be far more useful than whatever the hell the prisoners were learning now, in her opinion. Turning back to her crew, she scanned over each face. Leroy… Cassie… Jamal… Edison… Burt. She knew everyone in her unit, right down to their favorite goddamn color, which made her next order that much harder to do. Lips pressed into a thin line, she barked out, “All of you! Take to the halls and settle down as much of this clusterfuck as you can! And. No. Casualties.”

Her crew nodded stiffly in understanding, more than acquainted with the woman’s dislike for death after only a few weeks under her supervision. They marched out of the Courtyard in groups; however, before the last of them dispersed, a last minute thought struck Beddington. A finger shot out and landed on a single guard. “Except for you, Ross! You stick with us. Your coworkers can take the three traitors into temporary lockup. Err… If it’s still locked up.” Shit, was it still locked up? She sure hoped so.

Either way, her men followed her orders and dragged the ex-guards out without much hassle. All that was left was Officer Ross, who had visibly jolted at being called out. She was a small and squirrelly woman, big doe eyes just widening even more with silent questioning. Shakily, he saluted Beddington, a completely unnecessary gesture. “M-Ma’am, yes ma’am?!”

Beddington deadpanned at the woman.

“Uh… At ease or whatever. You stick with us, Ross. You’re, um…” Way too innocent to deal with the bloodbath going on outside--that was what she wanted to say, but didn’t quite have the heart to crush whatever confidence Ross had managed to scrape up today. “Yeah. That. Anyway, guess you get to cozy up wiiiiith…” She scanned the inmates one by one… Oh. Duh. The only single pringle here. The lieutenant smirked. “Good ole Shamrock here! He’ll keep ya safe and cool with some shade, yeah?”

Ross eyed Bah nervously, a hand twitching towards her baton, before clenching her fist to force away the motion. No, no. None of that. That was mean. “U-uh… O… kay?”

“Good.” Beddington turned back to Luca, brow arched. “Happy now, Mr. High ‘n Freckled? Or do you want me promoting you to Pope next?”

Luca was glad, to say it mildly, that the woman guard had been recalled. He wasn’t the sort to suggest women were in any way weaker than men - hell… Chloe had proven that in more ways than one, just that morning - but in this particular circumstance, she’d be eaten alive (and with inmates like Jumbo, that wasn’t entirely a figurative possibility). Maybe he couldn’t protect everyone… but hell if he wasn’t gonna try.

“...Me? Oh, hell no, Miss. I’d make a crap Pope. Mayor, maybe…” With a small smile and a quick wink, he turned and reached for Chloe’s hand, before a thought struck him that drove the smile away swift as it had come. Swearing, he turned to Bah, “...Have you seen River?”

“G-g-g-grandson o-of L-levi S-s-s-simeon S-s-simon?” Chloe stammered with a light grin at the woman, surprised to even feel at ease around any guard. Her shoulders slumped, despite the fact that the prison was a total mess and was probably going to end in some major bloodshed at the end of the day. But then again...details are just details. For the moment, at the very least.

“Ah! Hiya there lass.” Bahram greeted pleasantly to the...much smaller and mousy looking guard. The poor dear, he could sort of understand why Beddington pulled her aside..Bahram didn’t want to think about the outcome had she not, giving the woman a very patient and light smile, not wanting to scare her off as he noted she reached for her baton. “Oi, lass, I save the bitin for the cellmate.” He replied cockily, sending Luca and Chloe a playful wink before Luca’s words slammed into his ears.

“Christ...you as any holy or upheld member of society would lead to tyranny. Shite! River!” Bahram combed his hands through his hair and shook his head. “Oi I could have sworn he was in here earlier?”

Ross flinched the moment Bah spoke to her, before forcing herself upright and puffing up her form as much as she could physically muster. Which wasn’t a lot. At all. But she was still giving it her all. She had always been small but standing next to this behemoth somehow made her feel inferior to an ant. “Th-that’s Officer Ross to you,” she eeked out, voice cracking midway like a teenboy going through puberty. Wonderful. Great. Might as well add her badge to the traitorous trio’s while she was at it--

“Meh, you can just call her Julian,” Beddington chimed casually.

Ross turned red. “L-lieutenant!”

“What?? We’re balls deep in space discord, lemme loosen up when I can!”

The guard heaved a groan behind her hands, though she peeked up again at the mention of… River? Who the heck was that supposed to be?

“Ah, you mean the Ramirez kid,” Beddington said, scratching at her scalp. “Bourbon and Clyde wouldn’t shut up about him either… Heh. Just more and more fat to trim off, I swear.” She shook off the thought. “Anyway, hell if I know, but he ain’t in here. So let’s head out and see where the yellow brick road takes us--”

A crackle emitted from the comm clipped to her vest but… echoing? No. It was just more than one resounding at the same time, coming from each communicative device of every guard on Hagur. Brow furrowed, Beddington leaned into the speaker, straining to hear.

Then, her eyes widened with unfiltered shock and confusion. “...” She parted her lips to speak, yet words momentarily failed her. She looked back at the others. “...Well that’s… new. Oi, Mayor and crew, Chief Guard just sent out the word… We got ourselves a full out Civil Surrender.”

A chuckle of disbelief. “From us.”



Tags: @Elle Joyner , @CloudyBlueDay , @KatSea
 
GM Post: Game of Chicken | Location: Hagur | Interactions: Everyone

“We are like the human body.” Fritz, for all of his pain and bruises and perceivable limp, stood proud and tall before his audience. His newest pawns. His soon to be loyal servants. A tangible skepticism radiated from the guards, but he was beyond satisfied by the lack of surprise from his fellow prisoners. This was the way of things. The order of Hagur from the moment he stepped foot onto the ship.

Bloody lips parted to flash pearly whites. In this moment, he wore the charisma of a long-awaited king. The Napoleon Bonaparte of cosmic discord. “We are parts of a whole. Each individual piece. Every single limb…” His gaze roamed from busted face to face, but he met their eyes unflinchingly. This was a sign of utmost respect. When a rabid dog has known nothing but a life of lesser living, of suffering under the ridicule of superior power, mutual respect posed as the ultimate ambrosia.

And Fritz played into it like a magnificent veteran.

“You. Are. Vital! We are vital to the human body! To Hagur! Without us flowing through these halls like blood in Hagur’s veins, Romana would have nothing! She has nothing!” He paced the floor in the height of his righteousness. He could feel the majesty building. Could feel his birthright awakening from hibernation. And judging by the rapt attention he garnered from nearly everyone watching, they felt it as well. A round of hoots and cheers spilled forth, but it was only scratching the surface of what they could really give. There was more support to be gained. Excavated.

Fritz’s energy swelled and he addressed the inmates like a knight leading his men into battle. “And I? I am your martyr. Your alley. I am the man who will bleed, sweat, and ache until we receive the respect and freedom we deserve! That we were blindly robbed off in the light of petty entertainment for the rich!” Even as the cheers and chatter tripled in power, Fritz noticed something from his peripherals.

Snowman loomed off to the side with his gaggle of “friends”, visibly fidgeting while glaring icicles into Fritz’s form. I’ve struck a nerve with the tongueless one… No matter. His power is nothing without that tattooed hoodlum. With Gram seemingly nowhere to be found, nothing could stop Fritz from seizing full control of Hagur now. Look at them. Look at how they worshipped his voice! His existence! If these men weren’t so jaded by hatred and isolation, they would’ve bowed before his feet.

Riding the waves of adrenaline, Fritz ignored the throbs in his torso and splayed his arms forward, as if he was the Pope beckoning forth his children. “A head is useless without the body. Without the body, without all of you, it holds the wild imagination of greatness. But you? You are the hope of our fellow man. You are the muscle and meat and flesh and bone! Place your faith in me as you have done all these years and together…” Like the eruption of a molten geyser, fury shattered elegance and his award-winning smile morphed into a snarl promising vengeance. “We will bring an end to Romana’s tirade and live! As! We! Choose!”

Vibrations.

Roars and hooting and hollers threatened to dismantle the framework from how thunderously it shook the ship. And Fritz basked in it. Reveled in it. Finally, he was the King of Hagur, alongside his…

His eyes snapped open, then fell upon his love. His queen. Features visibly softening, he held his hand out to Wick, guiding her to stand side by side with him. The King and Queen of Hagur stood as one.

It was glorious.

}:{​

Organization was in order.

Despite the euphoria of this power, Fritz was no fool. A new dynamic as formulated; guards and inmates were now working as one, but with a touch of TNT delicacy. One wrong move and everything could spiral into a form of madness beyond his reach. He refused to let this happen.

Hence why he was currently surrounded by a circle of guards, discussing duties and shifts that could be divided among everyone. For such pig-headed leeches in uniforms, Fritz was surprised by how obedient and receptive they were to his words… No. He should’ve known better. When one’s hatred was shared with another, the bond proved to run deeper than any form of old bad blood. This was their glue. Their unity.

For now.

Even some odd guard with lion’s mane for hair pitched in ideas. Bed mattress, was it? Fritz cared little about her name and far much more about how adamantly she forced her nose into every aspect of planning. It irked the red-head, but he was a master of cloaking his emotions and couldn’t overlook her solid input--

Click… Click… Click, click, click, click, click, click…

Silence befell Hagur, all forms of activity and chatter smacking into a brick wall of curiosity. Where one wall parted to reveal a screen, so did the next wall, and yet another wall within a cell, until every single flat space that held a monitor peeled like the wings of a moth. The screens protruded, emitting a low static for a handful of seconds before it snapped to clarity.

Romana’s grin mocked guards and inmates alike. The camera only showed her from the shoulders up and the background was dimly lit, aside from a single spotlight dousing her like an emaciated demon. The glee shimmering in her eyes could pump the Devil full of envy.

“Are my little puppies enjoying their playtime? Shame… This rebellion of yours could be adorable, in a way, but I’m…” A far from convincing sigh. “Only disappointed. You bit the hand that feeds you. What kind of master am I if I don’t discipline you?”

Slowly, the camera panned out, revealing Romana’s entire form. It did little to reveal her actual location, aside from what appeared to be an endless, dark room. Hands clasped professionally, she set off into a stroll, a thoughtful hum rolling from her lips. “I cannot reach you. That’s very true. Quite smart of you, really. I’m impressed.”

And then she stopped. Faced the camera. Ever so slightly, like an ancient doll, her head knocked to the side and the smile vanished. “Shall I play my hand now?”

A snap of the fingers. Another light erupted next to her, illuminating a steel chair. It was simple but uncomfortable in design, composed of clean edges and metallic prongs extending forward from the back like a rib cage. It curled around the head of an individual seated within it--no. Bound within it.

A thud momentarily tore the onlookers’ attention away, where they spotted Snowman falling to his haunches with horror. His lips parted to speak, only for a wet whimper to choke him alive. His blue eyes stung.

Gram, visage bloodied and beaten viciously, left eye swollen shut, lip busted, and head swaying in the throes of a concussion, twitched as the light blinded him. He blinked. Once. Twice. Then jerked at the cuffs surrounding his wrists and ankles, but to no avail.

“Are we watching? Yes?” Romana asked. Then she nodded, retracting a handheld device from the pocket of her immaculate blazer. A dial rested in the center. “Good. Let’s meet the rest of our cast for today’s program.”

With fluid motion, the camera presented the next beam of light. Another chair of the exact same design. Hana, though covered in far less blood than Gram, sported cuts and bruises of her own. Her chin was tilted back defiantly, but she couldn’t smother the pained wheezes trembling within her lungs.

A third light. Hagur’s guidance counselor, Damien, flinched. He seemed physically unharmed, but the pure fear and panic radiated from his form more than made up for it. He also fought fruitless against the cuffs.

A fourth. Switch barely reacted to the light. Her eyes were tightly screwed shut, as if she was pulled so deeply into a conflict within herself that the outside world didn’t even register. She rocked back and forth in her seat, like that of a drug addict battling the agonies of withdrawal. Sweat soaked her midnight waves and rolled down her visage by the pint.

At long last, the fifth. No movement. No real signs of consciousness. Draped against metal like a corpse and head lolling to the side, the metal plate welded into their skull glistening. Dudley, still trapped in his comatose state, was none the wiser to his current containment.

“Are we still watching?” The pure satisfaction and twisted glee emanating from Romana could drown the Sahara Desert. Grin widening like hot plastic, she stared at the camera for a handful of seconds, ignoring the sounds of struggle behind her… then turned the dial.

A sharp whirring noise, though it was immediately drowned out by cries of pain from her hostages. All at once, arcs of electricity surged from the headpieces and ripped through their systems. They arched and gurgled painfully, every joint and fiber of muscle locking into place with overwhelming agony. Dudley’s form convulsed as well, eyelids fluttering as pupils rolled into the back of their sockets and foam rolling down his chin. What felt like an eternity passed in seconds, then Romana turned the dial back down. Her victims flopped and heaved ragged pants, fighting frantically to catch their breath.

“Fun fact.” Romana stored the device away and faced the camera fully. “That was the lowest setting… Listen well, dogs. You may think you’re free, but you’re far from but. You fancy yourselves human beings? Hm? Then I’m happy to test this out and see just how humane you really are. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. I will torture every single one of them. And by the third day? They’ll be dead. Unless, of course, you put an end to this silly revolution.”

A heavy pause.

She bowed. “I love myself a good game of Chicken. May the best man win~.”

The monitors shut off and retracted back into the walls.



Tags: @Elle Joyner , @KatSea , @CloudyBlueDay
 
  • Nice Execution!
Reactions: KatSea
As Romana’s snuff film faded, and the throng of prisoners were left with… a curious blend of reactions, all that ran through Wick’s mind was an aching need to put a bullet in their former leader’s skull. Fritz was having a beautiful moment, and that haversack of worms had interrupted it with her PSA on getting along...

"Long live the king..." She muttered, her fingers curling into Fritz's. Despite her irritation at Romana, Wick beamed, a measure both of pride and pure pleasure. A few muttered echoes escaped around them, but she couldn’t care less if the sentiment was shared. In time, they would all acknowledge what she had long ago. Everybody is ruled by someone… and at least their king was a benevolent one.

Through the crowd, a vaguely familiar (it was hard to remember all of one’s subjects) face appeared, bright orange hair standing out even in the sea of orange jumpsuits. Pamela… Perrier… Pancake… Cybil.

Something like that.

“You wanna be king, fine. I don’t give half a damn who wants to be in charge so long as that bitch goes down. So designate a few knights, or whatever, and let’s figure out a plan to take Romana’s control, for good.”

“You can’t take her control.” This was a new voice, an eyes skimming the crowd, Wick almost missed the woman. She stood towards the back, her arms crossed over her chest, a hallowed, nervous sort of gaze to her that suggested speaking up in a large crowd of half deranged prisoners wasn’t her goal for the day, “...Don’t you think she’s already thought of everything? This isn’t some last ditch effort to get you people back under control. It’s a last ditch effort to save her ass. You wanna hurt Romana, you need to hurt her where it counts.”

Kicking off the wall, the girl continued, “Give the audience a show they don’t want. Find someone who can hack the system, open the broadcast… then start naming names. Break the seal. Expose the system. Those sick bastards down there put a pretty penny out to watch the Dog Fights, and they aren’t gonna take too kindly to dropping cash to have their dirty laundry aired.”

@Mobley Eats
 
From Dusk til AM | Interactions: AM, Mule, Tarzan and Guest


“How well do you play?”

A twitch of the fingers, but they didn’t stop dancing across the keys. A grace beyond her years stuttered every now and then, more honest about her age, but his presence threw off her concentrate like nothing else. What did mom see in him? How could anyone see anything past those thick spectacles and scraggly facial hair?

He joined the little girl on the bench. Nudged her aside to make room for himself. Raised his fingers. Wiggled them while his beard lifted with the smile hidden underneath.

She imagined all of his teeth were crooked and yellow, but they probably weren’t. Conmen always had a perfect grin.

She stared pointedly at the keyboard.

“Well?” he urged, sounding playful and demanding at once. Slick like oil. Or an old viper. “Chopsticks level? Or something moooore fancy?” She hated how his voice travelled about the house. It bounced against and through her like an invasion, scraped the generations old wallpaper and oil paintings of grandaddy after grandaddy. Burst through the double-paned windowsills and ghosted the plantation on whispers and currents. Silent but immortal. Unfairly unbound and always getting what they wanted.

“...Just chopsticks.” The little girl didn’t feel like playing anymore, though momma would likely blow her casket if she found out practice was cut short. She couldn’t even put the blame on this man. It was his fault. She’d say it wasn’t. “This charmin’ man can’t do no wrong--”

“You oughhta learn more instruments. Ones that make you look all doom and gloom,” he chuckled, then bumped shoulders with the girl. She didn’t react, aside from a questioning peripheral glance. He shrugged. Beamed harder, harsher than the abrupt jabbing of his middle finger to the key. The sound that shot back hurt the girl’s ears. “See? Straight up miserable.”

Slowly, he leaned in.

“I play way more fun instruments… Wanna learn, Anne-Marie?”


* * *

“Wake up, Miss Biles.”

Frigid.

Ice cold water splashed AM in the face and ripped her back into the realm of consciousness. Eyes snapping open, she jolted forward and coughed, hacking up the liquid that had invaded her nostrils. Wet, thin ropes of ginger clung to her cheeks as she looked up. Glared, even.

Two men. One she recognized as Jackass the Traitor and the other as that overly aggressive shit muncher with dreads. The former risked a step closer, towering over AM in all of his lankiness, even with the awkwardly jutted leg. The torturer couldn’t help but briefly snap her gaze down.

Unnatural.

The foot rested on the curve of its side, crooked and clearly out of its socket, but the prisoner placed weight on it like it was nothing.

“The fuck are you,” AM rasped, forcing a lopsided grin, “A zombie?”

Mule rolled his eyes. “Last I checked, I’m a Jackass,” he grumbled.

“And a Zombie… Jackass.” For one solitary moment, AM’s cheeky composure lasted, then it was truncated by a violent burst of anger. She tried to rocket up and pounce on the mutt like an enraged mountain dwarf; however, she fell right back down to concrete when something yanked back at her wrists. “I’ll fucking kill you, dipshit! You think you can shock me, huh?! You got a fucking fetish, soy bean?! Piss off!” She spat especially thick mucus at his boot.

Mule didn’t flinch. That foot was busted anyways; a little loogie from a little lady wouldn’t bother him. Lips pressing into a straight line, he nodded to himself, “Sure,” then turned to his silent partner, “How much longer we gotta wait for him? She’s obviously up now.”

“Not a lot,” the other prisoner said. He stood a safer distance away, his posture oddly relaxed and coiled at once. A physical paradox. Just like his switch in behavior when he had pummeled Mule bloody. That same blood stained his bruising knuckles.

Mule sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s what you said about an hour ago… Tarzan. Give me something tangible here.”

AM lurched again. Only now did she realize her predicament; her wrists were bound behind her back with rope, the line tied down tightly to the legs of a bolted couch. A small room filled with mediocre furniture, a coffee maker next to a stack of old issue magazines, some random and unnecessary fake plant in a corner. One of the faculty lounge rooms.

“You want tangible,” she hissed and chuckled at once, “Come feel my foot cramming up your--”

“Not talking to you.”

”And I’m talking to you! Come fight me, bitch!”



Mule looked at Tarzan again. “Seriously, when is he gonna-...”

But then the door opened. AM knew it was male before he even entered. There was no logical reason or a context clue to explain it; she just knew the presence. Knew that pompous self-importance that touched a certain breed of bravado only scumbag men could have. It smelled rotten. And familiar.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen. Rioters had me busy!”

“Yeah, yeah. Hobble on your own time, Pops,” Mule sighed. He was always sighing, but no one could blame him. Everyone on this ship made people sigh. He gestured to a frozen AM. “We got her right here. Uh…” A dismissive wave. “Do… whatever it is you want. I don’t care.”

“I care,” Tarzan said. Even lower this time. Even with his eyes hidden behind the shades, AM could feel blue eyes peeling her skin layer by layer. Delving into the most uncomfortable recesses of her being.

Invasion.

She fought back a shiver. Tried to--until the man of the hour emerged into view. Like Mule said, he did indeed hobble. The limp was worse than his injury, but Pops wore the disability like a badge of honor. His eyes glimmered like warm chocolate when they landed on AM.

“Look at you…” he breathed, almost in awe. Wrinkles and folds dominated every inch of his skin, formed smooth canyons and blackheads wide enough to impersonate ticks. The creases around that damnable facial hair deepend. “All grown up and beautiful… but you,” a glance down at the rope bindings, “You haven’t changed a bit, Anne-Marie. Makes daddy proud.”

Escape.

Evacuate.

AM needed to leave--immediately. If she stayed for much longer-

Her smile was placid but proud as her vision met Pop’s without hesitation. “All I ever wanted,” she drawled, all salt and sarcasm and poison on the tongue. The tight-lipped smile rivaled his hidden one. A winner between those two looks was hard to predict.

Pops wheezed for a laugh. “Wanna know what I want?” Slowly, he crouched. Several pops and crackles ejected from his joints, but that rough visage never wavered. He was close enough. Within range. AM could easily headbutt him or bite off his ear, but she couldn’t bring herself to move a single inch. And he knew it too. “I want… what Romana’s been pullin’ out of you for all these years. For every single game. Cuz, little missy…” The space between them lessened. “The tides are turning on Hagur. You’re the push to our pull here.”

You’re always horny for riddle-talk. That was what AM wanted to say, but paralysis had consumed her. Gripped her lungs tight and catapulted her back into that damnable room. A single lightbulb flickered overhead--no. That was the past. This was the present. Her future. Hers.

Pop’s eyes twinkled. It meant that he liked her silence. She’d grown fluent in his ticks and tell-signs.

“And by push… I mean pushin’ all the little buttons Romana’s hiding. But they’re showing up. Slowly. But oh, are they damn flashin’. Just earlier with that broadcast… Well.” He glanced back at Mule and Tarzan, then to AM again. “Don’t you worry about the details.”

A bone-thin hand came to rest on AM’s head. It shook. But the quivers didn’t come from Pops. “Just tell daddy all about those pretty little codes.”

Silence.

AM’s flat expression persisted, stubborn and desperate. Even as her entire body trembled like a leaf. Defiant. She was not a little girl anymore. This was not the same room. This was not the same charming man, but a brittle husk of what he used to be.

Pops wheezed again. Electric with eagerness. That same hand combed through her ginger tresses, dove into the locks to cup the column of her throat. Gently. He didn’t even squeeze, but the promise of it prickled her skin.

“Good… Good. You keep on fightin’ me! Just the way we always played, ain’t it? Boys!” He grinned back at Mule and Tarzan. At long last, the beard parted to reveal a toothless smile. He’d lost the conman beam ages ago with gingivitis. “You stand outside and keep guard now. Don’t want any interruptions.”

Tarzan moved seamlessly, no questions or prompting from him. Mule, on the other hand, lingered. A conflicted curiosity held him hostage, made him analyze the terror oozing from a woman who’d forgotten how to pretend she was fine. But then he followed Tarzan out of the lounge as well and AM was left alone with Pops.

“You know what I miss? My instruments,” Pops said, wistful and thin with a sigh. He coughed into a fist. Then jammed that same fist into AM’s face like a drugged, uncoordinated beast. The scab on her temple reopened, but bled slowly. Knuckles dragged down her cheek, her neck, wrapped around the base again. Still no squeezing. “Don’t have those,” he whispered, “But I’mma get creative for my little missy.”

AM shook her head. Her tongue fell numb.

“You wanna play 1,000?” Pops asked.

More head shaking. Squirming.

“Let’s play 1,000,” he prompted.

The sharp musk of urine. He didn’t mind the mess growing under AM.

Nor the clipped scream that burst out of her.



Tags: @CloudyBlueDay @Elle Joyner @KatSea
 
"Alright, Miss Shaw...I think we've got a good chance on getting the jury on your side. You can drop the story that miss Laurens fell down the stairwell. Miss Shaw, the prosecution is going to mainly be focused on your husband for the crime." The short, stubby attorney reassured, cheeks bouncing heavily with each syllable he got past his crooked, plump lips. April bobbed her head, faking intent. This should have been easy. Should have being the primary word. Evie Laurens died of blunt force trauma, that much she knew to be true. Explaining the stab wounds away with the stairwell was...clumsy on Victor's part. He had never been the brains of the operation, after all...It was a good thing he made up for it in looks and desperation for approval. God, she loved that oaf. Well...as much as April could conjure love for a human being.

She feigned wide eyes as if her life depended on it. "You can be honest with me, Miss Shaw. We know Lockheed has a criminal history and violence towards women...has he ever been abusive to you, has he ever held you under threat of abuse if you didn't do what he asked?" It took the entirety of April's willpower not to let her lips curl upwards. How dim witted was this fucktard? It was because she was pretty, wasn't it. She couldn't have possibly helped hold Evie Laurens down as she and Victor gleed over their fine luck. No, she was the victim in all this, after all. He could kill her with those strong, masculine, manly arms of his if she didn't cooperate with him~ After all, he was a man. He was more vile and physically impulsive than she could ever be. She masked the snort with a sniffle.

"Victor would never do anything like this...He's a good man..." She snagged a tissue from the box as her attorney slid it over. She palmed her eyes until they burned red. "I swear I'm being honest...I had such a pounding headache. Evie and I drank way too much so I...I went to sleep on the couch...I didn't realize she was dead until Victor came to wake me up...the neighbors had called the police because they heard her screaming as she fell...I swear...Evie was so, so drunk...She had to have tried to climb up the stairs and fell back...T-thats what Victor told me...I can't believe he would ever do anything to hurt anyone."

"Miss...you are safe here, you can be honest with your defense team. This is the best chance you have at avoiding being sentenced to Hagur..."

April flinched. Shit. She hadn't realized that had yet been on the table. That prison shithole orbiting the earth was meant for the deranged or the downright idiotic. She wasn't sure which category Victor and she got themselves into... She brushed her hair from her eyes, blinking rapidly to produce tears.

"I'm telling you...All I remember is hearing Victor wake me up and then being over her body. I think...I think I tried to push on her chest, oh God, there was so much blood...oh, oh God..." She wheezed. She paused for dramatic effect, letting her mouth open in a wordless gape. This was how trauma worked, right?

"Take your time miss Shaw." Her blubbering attorney comforted. April's shoulders hunched. There was a pounding at the door behind them. She guessed it was one of Attorney Lard's underlings. They had been bustling in and out of the dingy office all morning, jittering from overdoes of coffee and speaking as rapidly as a chipmunk on crack. This was the first time these interns had put their eyes on a "murder" case. April recalled how brutal Evie looked after the "fall". She still didn't see why they were freaked out over it. Try being the one who did it. Pussies. All of them.

"S-sir." A lanky man with coke bottle glasses stammered. "The prosecution has got a new piece of evidence in the Laurens trial. DNA results came back..."

"And?" Lard's brow quirked, fumbling through folds of bundled skin.

"S-sir...April Shaw's DNA was under Evie Laurens' fingernails. N-not only that..." He swallowed thickly. "April Shaw's DNA was found elsewhere too..." Lard grew flustered. Redder than the blood that stained April's fingers when she placed her hands on Laurens' chest to make sure she was dead. "S-sir...B-both Lockheed's and Shaw's..."

April's expression fell. Cold, composed.

She knew when she had lost.

---


The feeling of loss lingered in the present. The same feeling, different war. Hagur being overthrown had been a pipe dream of hers since her and Victor made their home there. Seeing it now in action? It was...a different vision than the one that flooded her blood soaked dreams. It was going to fail. She knew that the moment Romana sent out her transmission. These fuckers had decided to get attached. Romana knew that they would and she tugged at their miserable little heartstrings to get what she wanted. In a way she respected that bitch. In a way, April wanted to sneak behind her, tug her arm around her neck, whisper sweet nothings into her ear as it turned neon blue. She wanted to feel her teeth against the skin of her hand as she secured her mouth and nose. She wanted to feel her wriggle and struggle against her as the life left her, feel the desperation of survival thrash against her skin.. Oh, such thoughts always left her hot and bothered.

Turning to her fellow prisoners, realizing the breakout was at a standstill...now was a better time than any to check in on her favorite prisoner. Ducking past the pact, April scanned the crowd for a familiar puff of blonde. There. April's fingers looped around Chloe's wrist as she passed, tugging her close. The blonde stumbled in surprise, but didn't make a peep as April whisked her back. April guided her to a calmer space, as calm as it could be with the chaos that had erupted. Chloe peeked up at her with confused, her one lazy eye bobbing adorably. April smiled, raising her hand to brush her cheek. Chloe batted her away with ease.

"W-what?"

"Darling I haven't spoken to you since the Dog Fights started. I am so sorry about how the first fight went..." April cooed. That was genuine. She was infuriated that Romana thrusted her into the fights. Chloe was as fragile as glass, tip her over and she'd shatter. Correction, she'd be electrocuted in a small puddle of water by the bitch being held captive. April's lips perked at the memory of the five jolting and convulsing in their captivity. Pressure grew in her stomach as she watched, satisfied with their puppet like movements. It was funny, in a way, how they flailed hopelessly in an fruitless attempt at escape. It made her nostalgic.

Members of the jury, we have reason to believe that April Shaw held down Evie Laurens as her partner Victor Lockheed took her life- The evidence points to gratification-

April realized her mouth had gone dry.

"N-now...n-not th-the time." Chloe stammered. She took a deep breath, wincing now that April scrutinized her. "L-look...I-I'm fu-fucking scared f-for my friends." Her expression fell, eyes glazed with emotion. Huh. April was going to have to ask Chloe to teach her.

"Oh, don't fret." April rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. "It's prison, lovely. Your fault for thinking you could make friends here without them trying to eat you or be murdered by the warden." She chuckled. "That's not why I pulled you over here, though. This here? A shitshow. It's going to end in someone getting butchered if Romana has anything to say about it. Hell, many butchered bodies. Put people in line, you know? Like ye old Mussolini. Although you might be too young to know who that is...I know, called me ancient~"

"P-piano w-w-wire th-that bitch th-then." April blinked. Huh. Maybe she was rubbing off on her too much...heh. Excellent.

"Oh, as much as I would love to~ This is going to go down badly. Really bad. If you have one brain cell that says you can come out of this alive and back on Earth? I'm sorry to say that you are a lot dimmer than I thought. Look, just stay the fuck out of the way until this settles. I know your boyfriend is going to try and jump on this. He's such a white knight that it's blinding. He doesn't realize that people who carry the cross tend to swing the damn things and take everyone else down with them." April briefly sobered. "I hope you know I'm telling you this because I want you to live through this. I don't want to see my one friend here die because of dreams of grandeur."

"Th-thought y-you said f-f-friends i-in prisons w-were a b-bad idea..."

"Never said I was smart, Clo." April puffed. "Just stay low. There's gonna be more chaos as this goes along. Some people are going to want to concede, like I know you would. But you want to know my opinion? Fuck that bitch. Fuck all those people who got themselves there." She pressed her pointer finger to her chest. She's still breathing, Victor.

"You and I made a promise. We need to head back to Earth one day. This isn't how it's going to happen. This is how we die. You promised me you wouldn't. Which is why Im still fucking pissed about the Fights but...you didn't have much of a choice." April leaned closer, nuzzling her nose to Chloe's. Eskimo kiss. Something Chloe didn't know about until she showed her. An act of pride, to be honest.

She's moving too much, Victor. Hurry up.

"Just...listen to me. For once. Watch this implode with me, watch Hagur go to war, then kiss up to which ever bastard wins."

Chloe pulled away. God, she looked like Evie. April always thought about it, with her silverly blonde hair and squishy cheeks. Evie's dead, why is she still giving me that ugly stare? I didn't do anything wrong. She chose to trust a stranger.

"L-look...I-I d-d-dunno wh-what I'm d-d-doing." She folded her arms over her chest, cradling herself. "Im scared." Her voice was clear. Just like April had been trying to teach her. Chloe damn near folded into herself now. "I-I'm s-s-scared f-f-for Ha-hana, for Da-damien..."

"Don't be." April paused. "Romana is going to hold onto her hostages for as long as she can. She can't risk giving up the upper hand. Once they are dead we've got a riot on our hands. No, dear, they've got a guarantee for life. Might not be a good one, but they've got it. Romana's not that stupid to give up leverage. What I'm more scared for is the rest of us. We're dogs, not people. She'll shoot one for biting. So please, for the love of whatever god you believe in, don't fucking bite. Heel like a good bitch."

We have reason to believe the dents in her skin are not made by the blunt edge of a staircase, but rather a puncture by-

Chloe stepped back from her. Her lazy eye tried to settle into focus. "I-I n-need t-to go."

"Do whatever you like, love." April smiled, watching Chloe stepping back in a retreat. "Just remember, you made a promise with me. Stay alive. Don't be stupid. Come back to me. One day, we'll be back at Earth, together."

Oh, Evie Laurens, you are as beautiful as the day I killed you.

Chloe disappeared. The room flickered around her. For a moment, a brief, blissful moment, she was back at home, back with Victor, breathing in the stench of iron...

Hot and bothered. Bound to happen at some point today.
 
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Reactions: Mobley Eats
Luca and Aileen April​

Collab with @KatSea

There was something to say for his patience. It hadn’t entirely been a known strong suit of his back home, but here on Hagur, flying off the handle rarely had much more purpose than giving him an uncomfortable date with AM. Charming as their resident psychopath was, one could only endure so much torture (and the conversation was always far worse than the shock-therapy) before they broke. And so he’d learned, to some degree, to bide his time before reacting. Some days, he wasn’t so great at it, but today was one of those days…

And when he watched as that hedonistic ginger nutjob snagged Chloe and dragged her off, he didn’t move. Not right away. He waited. Waited until they’d gone just far enough that he could sneak after. Just far enough that he could melt into the crowd and weave closer. April was only one of Hagur’s many problem children. A loony tune, for sure,and about as innocent as Charles Manson was charming (which depended entirely on the level of gullibility one deployed)... but for some inexplicable reason that he could not fathom, Chloe let the woman treat her like a lapdog. Normally, he’d keep his distance… watchful, guarding… but otherwise, keeping out of it.

Today, however, whatever little patience he had within him had entirely waned. The ship was divided, literally, and a war was going on and the last thing Chloe needed was some self-serving Rosenhan wet dream putting ideas in her head and further confusing her about the situation. April might have, in some small recess of her mind where humanity still lingered, convinced herself that she cared about Chloe… but at the end of the day the woman was a sociopath, devoid of compassion and self-control. And while the timid blonde might have been hesitant to cut the marionette strings April had tied over her roommate, Luca was in a pruning sort of mood.

And so with patience belying his reputation, Luca waited until their conversation had ended and Chloe had skittered away, before approaching. Silently, moving with the swiftness of a man who had been raised on the streets, Luca grabbed the redhead by her shoulders and slammed her backwards, into the hull of Hagur, eyes narrowing down on her with a certain ferocity, “‘Bout time we talked.”

Something slammed into April. For a moment; she thought it was Victor shaking her. Babe, clean up, someone’s called the fucking cops- No. His hands were gentle on her. He’d be rough when she asked for it. He knew better than to try otherwise. Chloe perhaps? No...the only reason Chloe would ever dare to try and touch her other than softly would be a maternal rage...she would know. That was the first ever thing she saw from the blonde woman. No. Couldn’t be her then. April was making sure she was going back to her child, not taking her away… As the vision cleared from her mind, the shock of the impact settling into her bones...she smiled. It pulled past her cheeks almost unnaturally, baring a toothy, wolfish grin.

“Ah, I was wondering when you were going to have your way with me, hoodrat~” She cooed. Why Chloe fancied him she’d never quite understand. She recalled how childish and small he was when she first came here. A child in Hagur made her laugh. She still saw him as such, the years that hardened on his face lost on her. She paused, placing her hand over his wrist. She squeezed. Tight. “Now, dear, what seems to be on your mind?”

As her grip tightened, Luca’s did not relent and his eyes narrowed darkly as he shook his head, “You should know by now crazy skank isn’t my type. I’d say I didn’t think you were that stupid, but given your question just now, maybe I pegged you wrong. You really need me to spell it out for you?”

“Crazy skank isn’t what you are into, but I’ve seen you googly eye for our resident torturer.” She raised her brow, leaning back against the wall he forced her against. She had a feeling she’d be here a while. Might as well be comfortable. “If this is about Chloe, then I think you are wasting your time, hoodrat. She may be your fuck buddy, doesn’t mean she can’t talk to whom she pleases.” She shrugged, nails digging into his skin this time. “So I suggest you consider what you want to do next. Aren’t there more important matters to attend to? Last I saw your beloved prisoners were strapped to chairs and being electrocuted within an inch of their miserable lives.”

“Yeah. AM’s a real charmer. But I’m pretty sure torture’s your thing there, Aileen, not mine.” His fingers dug for a moment, just a moment, before the urge to drive her into the wall a third time resolved and relinquishing his grip a bit, he stepped back, “Difference is, Chloe doesn’t really want to talk to you. Just because you don’t give her a choice doesn’t make her your friend. You know damn well you’re takin’ advantage of her, and damn well you ain’t capable of bein’ the type of person she deserves or needs in her life. But I ain’t her watch dog and it’s not my job to tell her who she can or can’t talk to. She’s smart enough to know the type of person you really are. Hell, anyone with half a brain cell in their head’s got those smarts. Problem is, she’s too good to tell you to piss off. Too nice. And in that twisted ratsnest skull of yours, you seem to think there’s some kinda fun in dickin’ around with her emotions. I’m here specifically ‘cause nobody has time for your games. Nobody. Might have escaped your focus, given you weren’t the center of all attention, but there’s a war brewin’ on this ship and whether or not you want to be a part of it, you are. We all are. Chloe, too. You wanna screw around, that’s on you. You leave her out of it. She don’t need you in her head, didn’t before, but she sure as hell don’t now. And in case I wasn’t clear… I’m not playin’. Back off.”

“Oh, darling, you offend me.” April scoffed, face far from upset. Her eyes hardened, however, the amused glimmer now snuffed out. She composed herself. Keeping her expression straight but eyes trained straight at his, she said “This isn’t about measuring your manhood with mine, hoodrat. Believe it or not I have other intents beyond being an evil supervillain you think I am. Go on, tell me you know what she thinks or wants, I bet you don’t. Do you think she wanted to
have you grab on her before going into a life or death situation where all the prisoners would hear about it? You think she likes having a dog bark at anyone who gets too close? You’re an ankle biter, a fucking ugly one too.” She chuckled. “But...you give me too much credit. No. I’m trying my best to keep her alive. Believe it or not, I want that for her. I’m not forcing her to do anything. Just...making sure she comes out of it breathing. This is a clusterfuck and I think you know it too. Whats wrong with keeping someone out of harms way? I mean, after all, isn’t that what you do around here? Stick up for the little runt?”

“I think she’s someone who can speak for her own damn self.” Luca answered, without hesitation, “You think you know her? You can’t see anyone past your own narcissism. She’s scared as hell of you, and right to be, cause it doesn’t take a genius to see the only person you have the capacity to care about is yourself.” Brushing off his hands, he shook his head again, “You wanna keep her alive. I believe that. Cause she’s a fun toy to you. Well, I wanna keep her alive, too, cause you better believe I love her, and I will protect her. With my life, if I need to. So rest assured, you crazy bitch, she’s out of harms way. Don’t make me say it again.”

Hurt crossed her face this time, if but a brief moment. “I think you’ve got blinders on too, hoodrat. But if you think you can protect her?” She threw her head back, chuckling again, humor gone from her voice this time. “Oh, I wish you the best, for both of your sakes. Hagur’s going through some changes, boy. Just make sure your living status isn’t one of them. If she’s a play toy to me like you said...don’t like the idea of her being sad. Or being torn to shreds. What are you going to do? Kill me? Oh, I think that’s someone she deserves, someone who snaps someone’s neck. Or is poison more of your cup of tea?”

“Look where we are, April. Do you imagine for half a second Chloe will ever be safe here? Changes or not, she’s in a damn prison. But she doesn’t need someone screwin’ with her head when she’s already got enough at risk.” Pointing a finger at her, his glare deepend, “And no. I’m not gonna kill you. Cause unlike you, I care what Chloe wants. What she actually wants. But you don’t back off, and you keep messin’ around in her head, you are gonna wind up killin’ her. And I promise you, that happens, ain’t nothin’ left to hold me back.”

“You think me trying to tell her to be safe is fucking with her head? You have one screwed up way of thinking, boy.” Her brow creased. He was a thick headed punk, that was for sure. He reminded her in a way of one of the prosecution members. Even after all these years she remembered those beady eyes drilling into her with rage. She assumed he did nothing but skim the files and saw a pretty woman dead. That was enough to get any self righteous twit with a stick up their ass all fired up. “If you think convincing her to go to be side is going to be good for her, your damn wrong. No one gets out of this unscathed. And boy…” She leaned closer this time, hand on his shoulder now “If I wanted her dead I would have killed her and hung her body up in her cell so very long ago. Believe me, I’m not in it for the long game. When I want someone dead, I don’t get them to do it themselves. Takes the fun out of my hands.”

"I think I'd need to be pretty stupid to think you dragged her away from her friends who were already keeping her safe just to tell her to be safe. You think I don't know the way you are with her? You think I don't see? You're not some compassionate saint, worried about a loved one. You're a vulture, circling. Not in it for the long game? I think that's exactly what you're in it for. But she's not your plaything. Not anymore." Swatting her hand off his shoulder, Luca pressed forward ever so slightly, "What you want and what you do might match up in that twisted head of yours, but I'm gonna go with psychology ain't your strongest suit. You poke at the cracks in a glass pane long enough, it's gonna shatter. You wanna keep her safe? Leave her alone. That's gonna be the last time I ask."

Stepping back, a small smirk touched the corner of his lips as he shook his head, looking her over in brief disgust, "And I guess you're done pretending you're innocent, huh? Not that you were ever very convincing."

“Someone’s protective.” She smirked, hiding the swallow she took. He didn’t know shit, that much was for sure. Just because she showed her...love...in a different way, didnt mean there wasn’t something there for her. April always thought the emotion was ludicrous and led to more harm than good, but still, something about her made her...pity? Perhaps that was the word. It was a sliver of empathy. “You have a bark, not so sure about your bite. But fine~ I won’t even look at her that way if it gets your panties up your ass. Hell, I won’t even breathe when she’s close to me if that makes you feel safer.”

“Oh darling, no one with a brain cell would believe it. But it’s damn fun to try. And you’d be surprised how many people lack a brain~”

"You not breathing sounds like a blessing to a whole lot of people, April." Stepping away fully, he shook his head, "You know… whatever made you this way, I am sorry. Chloe will be fine without you. In this mess? Worry about yourself."

And without turning, Luca shifted back into the crowd, returning a moment later to the others and gingerly taking Chloe's hand in his.
 
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