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| Reinvention | Started by: Hatchetface on Sep 06, '08 01:12 |
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"What parole board gave you the green light?" The guard leaned, arms crossed, against the opposite wall of the corridor from the cell occupied by the only man currently in solitary confinement. The inmate lay, only half-interested, stretched out on the bare metal springs of the stripped prison bed. Hell if I care, Smitty. I don't make the rules. I just ignore 'em. The guard stiffened and huffed as quietly as possible, trying to stifle his outrage over what he considered such a gross injustice playing out before him. Lights-out had been called an hour ago, and he should have had an easy night of it--walking through the block, making sure his one prisoner didn't cause any major uproar--but he couldn't resist the opportunity to try to put the soon-to-be free man in his place one last time. "Putting you back out on the street is a damn crime in itself, you know." Hatchetface sat up in the dark, finally interested enough to offer the aesthetic of a true conversation. Yeah, probably. But, then again, so is having your coworker done away with, isn't it? Or, hey, maybe it's not. I'm a bit rusty on this whole law thing... and who it applies to. How's the paperwork on that promotion coming along? The guard twitched noticeably as he stood himself straight and approached the bars of the cell. "I could go to the warden first thing tomorrow and..." Hatchetface stood, in turn, and also approached the cell bars until the men were almost face to face. And what? Tell him you hired a hit on ol' golden boy O'Brien? The guard scoffed, feeling for once that he had seized the upper hand in the conversation. "You think he'd believe you? You thing anyone would believe a sociopath piece of shit like you? Ha!" The prisoner offered no satisfying reaction to the insult, but only a half-hearted grin. Tell that to the parole board, chief. Officer Smith nodded proudly. "That's what I'll do -- first thing in the morning, and I'll have your ass fried by the end of the month." Hmm. You're placing a hell of a lot of faith in making it to the warden's office, don't you think? "What are you saying?" Hey, nothin', chief. Prison yard's a dangerous place, is all. Hachetface winked smugly, and stepped back just in time to avoid the nightstick being brought swiftly down across the bars by the enraged guard, no longer able to control his temper. You're a madman, Smitty! Out of control! He threw his hands up mockingly and turned away from his attacker, taking the few steps back to his bunk. Now get the fuck outta here. I'm trying to sleep. Early the next morning, Officer Smith half-escorted half-shoved the man who was still his prisoner for the next hour or so-long enough to abuse a bit more-through the prison halls to processing. There, they signed his life back over to him, and reissued his personality in the form of clothing. Out came the black suit, no more stale than when they were locked away five years before--that is to say, pretty damn stale. Out came the wingtips, scuffed in all the right places, and out came the white oxford shirt, bloodstains highlighting the cuffs, which was confiscated as evidence, but returned when it was found that the prisoner didn't own any shirts without such stains, and tying any of them to a specific crime would be nearly impossible. After everything was sorted, Hatchetface was a free man, in a manner of speaking, and Officer Smith wasted no time in marching him across the yard and shoving him out the front gate. See you around, chief. "Go to Hell. It's full of punks like you." Nah, I figure it's only half-full. Plenty of room for you yet. "Yeah, well I'll see you there." I'm already there, Smitty. The former prisoner smiled. Officer Smith lobbied no response, choosing instead to draw himself quickly and deliberately back into the prison yard, closing the gate behind him as noisily as possible, as if slamming a house door in some unwanted guest's face. Humph. Hatchetface smiled to himself as he ambled a few yards from the gate and hoped atop a federal mailbox. He lit a cigarette and there he sat waiting for persons unknown to arrive. Everyone he had worked with when he got locked up was either on the run, or long dead due to this gang war or that. Nevertheless, he had received a letter a week or so ago, thanking him for his loyalty, and ensuring him that the parole hearing would go smoothly. The letter had gone on to explain that he would be "well taken care of" once released. Ambiguous wording in this line of work, to be sure. To say the least, he was intrigued. He waited. |
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Yuri wasn't sure how it had happened. In his zealousness to assist the boss, he had agreed to drive halfway across the state to pick up some big name that had gotten parole. That was his big job for the day, and though he was happy that Marietta had trusted him as a representative of the family, there was absolutely no killing involved. To make matters worse, the family's right and left hand women had decided to tag along, citing a desire to get some fresh air. It wasn't that he disliked either of the women. He had a great deal of respect for them both. Ironically, it was the conversation he dreaded. Lily in particular had made it her personal mission to teach Yuri better English, and had even once resorted to mannerisms and syntax that would have been condescending to even Tarzan; Yuri couldn't endure another game of charades with her, and especially not while careening down the highway. He barely knew Forever, but he didn't get a good vibe from her. It was going to be a long day. Yuri turned the keys in the ignition and waited on the street for the two ladies. When the headquarters door opened, he hopped out of the convertible and jogged around the hood to the opposite side, opening the set of doors for the passengers. He hoped they couldn't sense his irritation and tried his best to cover it with a smile. Good morning! Closing the doors behind them, he went back to the driver's side and got back behind the wheel. He adjusted the rear-view mirror so that neither Lily nor Forever would be able to make eye contact with him and put the car into gear. OK! We go now! |
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| Reply by: Yuri_Kazakov at Sep 06, '08 02:05 | |
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It was another day in The Riot headquarters. Lily was sat in her office when Forever came walking in asking id she was ready to go. Today was a bit different as she knew it was the day Hatchetface was getting out of prison. She grabbed her purse and walked with Forever down to the car where Yuri was parked.< .em> Lily knew that Yuri felt a bit uneasy around the girls, but she was going to make it a priority to show him a different side. Still business, but maybe a different approach would work better with the Russian man. Forever was walking ahead of her, almost as if to make sure Yuri didn't leave them behind. Slow down a bit, Forever. He's not going anywhere, he needs us. Do you think he could pull this off on his own? Lily knew deep down inside that Yuri could definitely so this on his own, he had picked up very quick on the English language, yet it was still hard for him to use all the words in the correct context. Walking out into the daylight, Lily had to adjust her eyesight. She gave Forever a look and a smirk. She knew this was going to be one interesting car ride, especially on the way home. She knew that Hatchetface would be in for a big surprise at all the changes that have been made since he went to prison five years ago. Lily smiled at Yuri and hopped in the back seat, and let Forever take the front passenger. She was a bit worried as to how Yuri's driving was. He hadn't been out here too long, and seemed a bit anxious while driving. Good day to you, Yuri. You ready for an exciting day and car ride? |
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| Reply by: Lily at Sep 06, '08 08:17 | |
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Yuri grudgingly muttered a response to Lily as he began the long drive to the prison. Her cheerfulness could not be a good sign. In his mind, Yuri had already begun planning ways to ignore her for the rest of the day: He couldn't hear over the wind. He was too busy focusing on the road to talk. He thought she was talking to Forever. If all else failed, he could always feign misunderstanding of the English language. Then again, that could always backfire and send Lily off on another round of English lessons. He was sure to keep himself distracted from whatever conversations taking place in the passenger seats by obsessively checking the different gages on the instrument panel as well as the mirrors on either side of the vehicle. No cars were approaching from either direction and the tank was full of gasoline. He saw a sign approaching in the distance, and as the words became clearer he did all that he could to keep from groaning. The third line from the bottom read simply "Jackson - 77 miles." |
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| Reply by: Yuri_Kazakov at Sep 06, '08 23:20 | |
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Great... Forever Muttered to herself as she walked towards the car. Lily gave her a look and then pulled her lips into a smirk. Forever half rolled her eyes and didn't slow down her pace. She wasn't worried that Yuri would leave without them, she was just not happy with this situation. It annoyed her that Yuri couldn't put words together correctly. Forever had had a very strict upbringing and was very proper. She walked with her head held high, shoulders back and one high heeled foot in front of the other. She pulled the passenger side door open after Lily had taken the back seat. Forever caught Yuri's eyes just as he was getting into the car also. She did not smile at Yuri, didn't say anything. Forever just looked into his eyes and pursed her lips. Dropping her eyes before he did, Forever got into the car. Yuri put the key into the slot and the car's engine rumbled to life. Just Forever sighed Just don't kill us okay. She made a mental note to steal a back seat spot with Lily on the way back. |
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| Reply by: Forever at Sep 15, '08 00:32 | |
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