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Realistic or Modern New Oasis: Thirteen Peaks

Characters
Here
PRISM
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
BEGIN AGAIN

The facility was….. AWESOME. Man he really hit the jackpot here. He quickly had a wide grin on his face as the area was explained to them. Hey so long as he had three meals a day and room to move that wasn’t a 5x5 jail cell he was happy. The idea of having to spend SEVEN YEARS in jail? No way not for him at all.

Whatever gods were looking his way and said not today for him better hear his internal thanks cause he wasn’t going to repeat them.

He scanned the room getting a feel of who to fuck with and who to avoid with a seventeen foot pole. Generally he was pretty bad at judging but hey some people got nulled so it can’t be too bad to be a lil less cautious. He ruled out the dude in a freaken muzzle immediately though. Being that big and muzzled? Yeah Priz wasn’t looking to become a snack like that.

No one else seemed too overtly dangerous but he definately eeried away from the one that came in restrained to all hell. Yeah that one probably had issues. Instead his eyes were drawn to the cute punk girl and the most average looking cubical slave he’d ever seen. He shimmed around some of the more talkative ones already and went rushing the two he noticed in the crowd. He reached out to slap both on the back with a friendly greeting.

“Ayy hey there two tone, Mr. everyman. Looks like they got us some nice digs huh? So whatcha in for?”

miki miki thebigfella thebigfella

 
V
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Prism, Howell
BEGIN AGAIN

V wasn’t impressed. To be fair, V wasn’t impressed by anything anymore, but for a rehabilitation center, she wasn’t impressed. She had seen better and worse and bigger and smaller and on that scale, this building scored an above average for being so isolated from humanity. Spicy!

This was an interesting game. Maybe she would stay until the year was up. The place was hiding something, and she didn’t know what it was, and she wouldn’t ever know if she left the place early. How long was she staying again? A year? Also known as 365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, 31,536,000 seconds.

Time just flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it? V had been in this universe for a year already. Her own personal record.

People were fun, and criminals were hysterical. Delusional, guilt-ridden, furious. The finest specimen of the human race for her to study under a microscope for a whole year. To torment, experiment on, stretch thin and throw against the wall, hug, and dance with.

What fun.

And who was this beside her, hap-hazardly slapping her on the back? Oh! Silver haired and smirking like a sly kitten. What an adorable boy. Just how long had he been playing the role of the carefree and hedonistic boy? Was it stuck in his skin? His soul? How long would it take to erode the mythos of this act and leave him without an identity, and further no soul, in despair, agonized as he realizes he has nothing. Nothing. As V watches on, fading away from his life, trace undetectable, and he would finally know not to fucking touch her without permission!

Two-tone! What an adorable nickname! For Vivian’s two-toned hair!

And someone else was a part of this interaction. The boring looking man beside her. Average people weren’t boring, though. Most average people were crushed beneath the weight of their own mediocrity and desire to become something more that derived from the promise that they would be in fact special. That’s what made them average. But then there were boring people, who had nothing going on in their heads, not an inch of torment, just apathy until the end. Bor-ring.

But this was research hours. Was he average or boring? He couldn’t be that boring if he was in jail. Unless he was there by accident. Then he would be boring for sure. Maybe she could give him a vivisection in her free time. Good work experience (V is unemployed).

What was V in for? Oh goody, her first decision-based gambit. She could lie and say she was in here for nuclear warfare or for kicking a puppy down the stairs, or smile as she gave him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, swear with her left hand on a (meaningless) book and right hand on her heart, truthfully, she had committed serial murder, on the undeserving, the innocent, ended lives that were destined to go on for longer, and what would he think then? Would the mask slip? Would it matter to him down the line? Would her friendship points with him go down? Was she forever locking his romance option by being a—gasp—Murderer?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!

“Well! At least buy me dinner first!” V responded, spinning to face him, grinning, her eyebrows raised and eyes widened like she had just witnessed a deer getting run over by a train (bloody). She felt like acting eccentric today. She pointed at him, vindictive like an over-confident defense attorney. “What are YOU in for?”

BriiAngelic BriiAngelic thebigfella thebigfella

 
Howell Moreno
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Agin
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Prism, V, Melissa
Begin Again

“Is this really it?”

He had only been sentenced a few weeks ago, prepared to spend the next 3 years trying to keep himself sane behind thick walls and even thicker air.

“I should pick up a book. This is a great time for reading. I’ll be able to talk all about it when I’m free.”
“A little bit of a workout every so often will be nice, just like I always did..”
“The food shouldn’t be that bad. I just need to add a bit of salt and pepper. I can get someone to mail me some snacks, too.”

All these mundane thoughts acted as escapism from facing the reality of the situation in its full breadth, a barrier between him and embracing the truth of how long three years truly were. His mind constantly shifted to the outside world, refusing to sever the connection.

He could keep this up. He just needed to keep a positive attitude, and time would flow like a busy day at work.

He didn’t last one day.

When the cells opened to let the prisoners out to roam, he curled up in his bed instead. His face shoved into the stiff pillow he had to use to soothe him to sleep; it acted as a tool to muffle his screams as tears soaked into its white covering. The realization had hit him like a freight train.

In the bottomless pit of his life, when his mind and heart were threatened to be swallowed whole, he was greeted by someone in a suit.

It was since then that continuous statements played again and again.

“Is this really it?”

The same term danced around in his head, its connotations warping and changing as the day passed.

He asked as he walked out of the jail he was sentenced to in handcuffs.

“Is this really it?”

He pondered as he boarded the plane that sent him flying away from the country, getting the clearest look at the vast open sea he had ever seen, despite being the farthest away from touching it he had ever been.

“Is this really it?”

It reappeared again as they were steered through the vast wilderness, the far expanses of a continent that was nothing like home, mountains visible in the distance.

“Is this really it?”

The words threatened to leave his mouth as they rode down the massive underground elevator to the unknown realm. Deeper and deeper, darker and darker. Their stay was temporary, but the distance from the surface felt like its expanse was forever.

Standing in the expansive open courtyard, they were shown where they would be living from now on. He stood there, looking at the words, his hands hanging listlessly at his sides.

image_9_1.png

“This is it.”



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​

One year.

That’s all he needed to survive. So when he first heard the offer, it sounded too good to believe.

“It was.” He corrected his past self. As he looked around, he felt his chances of the outside world had not increased with the shorter sentence; he had been pulled off the pan and put under the broiler to crisp.

All around him were people who were nothing like those he had seen in prison before. Of course, there were a handful of wild types, but among them were also droves of people who were much more similar to him in appearance and temperament, at least from his short time there.

This place was different; everyone here looked and felt like something alien. The looks in their eyes saw the concept of freedom in a different matter, if they even understood it at all. Their appearances varied wildly, along with their sizes; how they walked and talked was a nightmarish reflection of the prison before.

Before, it felt like he just needed to put his head down; now, the only safe place was digging his head right into the ground.

He was so absorbed in acclimating to his surroundings he hadn’t realized he had been targeted until a rough pat on the back sent a shock through his nervous system. Then, as if he had been whacked by a sledgehammer as his back bent inward, the breath he didn’t know he was holding shot out from his nose.

Was he just attacked? Did someone put a sign on his back? Or something even worse?

Fear was visible on his face, feeling the blood in his ears as he slowly turned his head over his shoulder to look at who had assaulted him. The incredibly flashy man was a complete contrast to the white and blue collared world he knew; from how he talked to how he acted, it seemed like a spiked collar would fit him much better. Everything about him caused jaggers through his bloodstream, spiking his anxiety.

Was he trying to be nice to him? What did he want? He didn’t have anything to give him if he asked. Would he beat him up because he didn’t?

All his worries muddied the question Prism had asked, but he did recognize that he wasn’t the only one present in the situation as he turned around. As he looked over, he hoped the other person would somehow take control of the interaction, keeping him from getting involved or having to open his mouth.

But what greeted him was a girl even more colorful than the man in front of them. He almost felt assaulted by how expressive she was. The simple fact of standing next to her already made him feel like a stage spotlight was being shone on him. No wonder he had been spotted out of the crowd. It was probably his close association with this woman casting unfortunate upon him.

Her response cemented to Howell how demented she must be, how both must be. How does one so casually talk about their crimes as if it’s over-the-table dinner, hell, the variegated girl was already asking for dinner!

He needed to get away from these two as quickly as possible if there was anything he was sure of. He needed to leave; he didn’t care how!

Nervously sweating, Howell took a step backward. It looked like the two chromatic criminals would be absorbed in their discussion and forget he was there entirely. Then, as he prepared to fade in with everyone else, disappearing amongst the other prisoners, he turned on his heel and stepped forward to speed-walk away.

Instead, he bumped into something. Too soft to be a wall, it was dense, but it gave away to the contact, all things he realized in the small moment before he bounced away and landed right on his ass. His eyes were closed shut as his blood began to run cold.

There was no doubt he had just bumped into someone.

Without even looking up to see who it was, his eyes shot open as sweat began to pour off him, blustering out a hurried apology, his lips flapping ahead of his brain.

“I-I-I-I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going!” He frantically spat out his atonement, raising a hand defensively as he had one leg raised, and paused while attempting to bring himself up to his feet.

His head moved upwards to meet the face of the person he had the unfortunate to shove into, but as his eyes rolled upward, they kept moving higher and higher and higher.

His pupils shrunk smaller and smaller.

His heart beat faster and faster.

His breath stopped, and his skin went pale. Almost as if he had just died on the spot, consumed by horror.


BriiAngelic BriiAngelic Haze- Haze- miki miki
 
Last edited:
PRISM
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
BEGIN AGAIN

Okay, so thats one deflection? He wasn’t sure he should be admitting to what he was in for if they were in for harder shit. Wouldn’t do well to have a drug lord or a serial killer thinking he was easy pickings but she was already seeming pretty weird so either she was harmless and he’d get some brownie points or she wasn’t and he was fucked anyways.

“Dinner huh? Well cutie whatcha say we plan that for when we bust out huh? A year to decide the best place-”

He intended to continue but he wasn’t unaware to the everyday man trying to worm his way out from not only answering but the entire socialization itself. Luckily he didn’t seem to have the sense to get far as he literally walked straight into a seven foot woman. He gave a wild grin at V and motioned with his head for her to come along. He took a few strides before tossing his arm around the taller man’s shoulders with an intent to trap him.

“Heya dude trying to sneak out on us? Oh, but a pretty lady huh? Guess I can forgive you for that.”

He craned his neck back to look at the taller woman who his new friend bumped into.

“Heya cutie, whatcha in for?”

miki miki thebigfella thebigfella Haze- Haze-

 
BEATRIX BLUE
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Kingsley, Sin, Miriam
BEGIN AGAIN
Beatrix had left the library to get her cuffs gone, also since everyone else left as well. It was nice to have her hands freed, sure, but God, was she bored. They could've given her phone back and turned off the internet or something; what could anyone do with a phone that doesn't need wifi?

So here she was, sticking to herself amid this group of criminals and monsters.

She might've been a loner for the rest of the day until someone caught her eye: one of the most average people ever appearance-wise, but a standout individual compared to everyone else. Finally! A normal-looking person! thought the blue-haired girl. Unfortunately for him, he was caught between some of the most conspicuous people she'd ever seen—and she battled dark magic users and speedsters before!

Beatrix sighed. "Aw shit, here we go again."

Approaching the group she could overhear some of what they said. Excited banter about crime, disgustingly gross flirts, the usual stuff. "Yo! Dudes!" Beatrix inserted herself between everyone and Howell, looking indignant to the crowd in front.

"I don't gotta say much to the most obvious bad guys in the world, especially a creepy pervert like you." She pointed at Prism. "Even you, you weird middle schooler's original character." She pointed at V. Ha! So meta! "And I hope the weather up there is not bad, so that you can hear me!" Beatrix snapped up at Melissa. "Bullying is not cool, so leave this guy alone." Finally, she turned to Howell. "And you. I have a boyfriend already."

The fact needed to be nailed into everyone's heads, or else the love triangle would rear its ugly bum again.

miki miki thebigfella thebigfella Haze- Haze- BriiAngelic BriiAngelic
 
Melissa Grohl
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirtheen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Howell, V, Prism, Beatrix
BEGIN AGAIN

Those walls closed in; they shrunk; and if they didn’t, then they would soon enough.

Those walls caved in; they held; not even the strongest prayer, not even the strongest spirit— none of them whispered through the tiny cracks lined across those walls.

Barred metal held a stillness in some rooms, it came from the wind. Quiet, but never serene, never a promise. Flecks of dim light were a rare thing behind those walls, sometimes streaks of gold seeped through the slits, creeped from under a door, but never any brighter.

You either sulked in profound silence or joined the choir, that of the macabre cacophony of screams and grieving echoing down the halls from time to time. Those walls were all the inmates would come to know, and for some of them, all they deserved to ever know. A grim concrete box. Walls smooth, damp, air tight. Bed a thin row of planks on shaky wooden legs, a metal, rusty mesh at times. Basic toiletries.

A violation of the senses, and a loss of the self.

Somewhere, where the footsteps of the guards echoed down the walkways, on the upper floors, there was a box were all of these things remained absent.

Save for those walls.


It was a coffin with a little extra headroom.

Too small for her to stand up, too thin for her to stretch her arms. The walls were sweating at all times, moist, like they were wrapped in wet sheets of paper. At some point she’d gotten used to the air thickening at each breath she took. It clung to her clothes, her hair; everything ended up coiling around her neck whenever she rolled over to fall asleep.

These walls were hers in a sense.

Nothing ever managed to leave these walls in particular, not her breath, not even the echo of her voice. Nothing changed. And not that she would ever notice. Every waking moment her eyes were shut tight, it didn’t make that much of a difference. Dark. Not a thread of light ever threatened to come in.

Today was different, however. As she lay there, half-her-face pressed against the wet, slick floor— the floor that belonged to her and her only— like she always did, Melissa couldn’t help but grin as the guard slipped something under the door.

It was one of the same post-cards he’d always deliver to her, it was the only way she could know of the world outside these walls, it was the only way the taste of stale oxygen would break into her walls. A familiar gesture, one that, just like these walls were hers, was also hers. Nothing changed, but today was different.

“Am I leaving soon…?” — Her voice was small, a whisper that bounced and echoed around her walls. It hung there in the air, hollow — “Yes.” — His voice was stern, muffled behind the iron door. He was a man from overseas, she’d never seen his face, never heard him speak her mother tongue; but just like these walls were hers, he was also her property. Was it the last time he would ever show such a kind gesture?

She wondered.

Her wiry, clammy hands dragged and slipped across the floor, across the dozen or so scuffmarks. They wrapped around the card. The slit in the door disappeared into the dark. She smiled — “Do you think they will have cheese in there…? I’ve never had Amestrian cheese before…” — Her clothes and her hair piled up on the humid floor as she went to gather herself up.

“I’m sure they will.”

Hm…

“Good…”

The post-card today depicted a winter jaunt. A world bundled up in layers of white. Oversized clothes, scarfs, and those pointy walking sticks they’d use to poke and prod into the snow. Winter was still a thing out there, beyond these walls, it seemed.

She recalls a thing or two about winter jaunts. Father had taken her to one of those, back when he was still around.

There was a wind grazing the needles of grass, the ones that would poke out of their snowy blanket, with it came a flurry. It dragged it. It howled. At its wake, every grassblade silvered and made a sombre decorum of high-frost. They’d walk over them. They were looking for something, something to finish their ‘snow rabbit.’ All they had was a bunched-up mess of snow, pebbles for eyes and nose, but its ears were a couple of dry sticks.

It looked like a horned devil, was Father's initial thoughts. She humored the idea, lifting the crump of snow and waving it around her hand like an airship. Groaning. Growling. Boo's and Hoo's. Like a horned devil.

It was a funny devil, that ball of snow, but it wasn't a rabbit. So, they looked. And among the trees, one stood out

Its top daubed white with covers of snow, limbs waved, fickle at the name of the wind. And, oh, did the wind howl its name that day-- yet the legs of that tree ranked anchored, clinging onto the soil. There was a limb, bony and bare like all the others, but at its very end, outstretched, were two large leaves. The world yearned its name, and the wind howled once more; and therein layers of snow, the leaves fell for her.

For the sake of her snow rabbit.

That was when she first witnessed miracles, they always happened around Father. He must've taken them with him when Father left, that horned devil. She's never seen a miracle since.

Sometimes she dreams about that horned devil, there in the snow.

Was he still there?

She wonders.

Will there be snow up her way, wherever it is that they’re taking her?

She wonders…

Did she even deserve the snow after all these years?

“It’s time to go.”


"Vierzehn-tausend-vier-hundert..." — She'd count, once every 60 seconds. What was it? 50 mph? 40? Maybe 25.

3 meters per second? — “Hm…” — Her count was always off.

There was no way of telling from ear alone. She still couldn’t take the blindfold off, not without giving away her eyes— every light, for the upcoming 24 hours, would sear them blind. Being stuck in a dark room for five years did that to you.

They were about 4 hours from where she’d initially landed. The road was sometimes unpaved and bumpy, she could hear flora and wildlife drowned out by the roaring engine. Since she hopped on their transport, she’d been going in blind, using sound as a crutch.

All she knew is that: “We’ll be staying in block C… This is home… That woman’s itchy… Heavy steps… There’s a carpet… We can shake hands… There’s no food… He wasn’t being creepy… She has a boyfriend… They’re in the library… We should be friends…” — The world jolted down to a clearer picture in her mind, from everything she’s heard so far. There was a sterile stench, her whispers hovered out of her mouth and were suspended there. Fading; a fine, white vapor. There was an air conditioner somewhere in the room, but the dull sound of nothingness rang clear in her ears whenever she stepped further away from the group.

It was clean, it was spacious, but it wasn’t hers. That she still needed to get used to.

Blind as a bat, she sauntered over to the outer walls, her pale hands gliding across the hinges of every door as she walked by. There was no science to it, she just picked one at random. She felt the expanse of oiled wood with her bare hand. First she pushed, then she tried to slide her hand across, see if it would budge that way. She reached to pull down a handle— wherever it was— instead swiping at empty air.

Her hand floated around the frame, and just as she was about to bump into the doorknob, Melissa felt something else bumping into her instead. The sensation was warm, blunt, it bounded off of her — “Ah…” — There was a dull, meaty thud on the ground next to her, followed by rushed apologies.

The man had a nice smell to him, nicer than all the other inmates she was holed up with back in her hometown. The ring to his voice wasn’t all that pleasant. He was loud, like a child.

Nonetheless, something at the pit of her stomach churned and twisted wildly at the prospect of her new soon-to-be friends. Her expression seemed to shift, twist— something hungry, something that had been starving. Hell, she would even settle with acquaintances. A game of new voices and experiences was much welcome.

Something about it got her all excited.

"Hallo, Freund, wie geht's dir...?" — Her voice was breathy, like something were messing with her lungs. She raised a hand up in greeting, in his direction, wherever it is that he was — “Bist du in Ordnung...?"

Then the realization hit her, childish surprise, her mouth hung and she let out a quiet — “Oooh…”

“Amestrian… My bad, I keep forgetting…”— Her lips parted with a sincere smile. She giggled, trying not to sound too over-bearing and foreign. She repeated — “Hello, friend…! No need to be sorry… I wasn’t paying that much attention either…”

She gestured to the black set of gauze covering her eyes, moving her free hand over to the door — “Do you mind helping me out with this door…? I can’t find the handle…”

Melissa took one measured step from the man. He sounded shaken, and you don’t tame a wild animal through sheer intimidation. Show a glint of respect, put a boundary. Something like that — “Sorry to bother you…”

“Eh…?” — Then there was another set of footfalls, another voice. This one was rowdy, daring, he sounded like he was having fun. Like the other man, he didn’t sound like a criminal. He was one of those, huh?

She wonders.

“Oh…! Heya there…” — She lifted the same hand and waved, again, wherever he was — “Pretty lady, huh…? Hopefully you’re a cutie too when they get this blindfold off me…” — She grinned, P.R smile, full-pearly-tooth on display. She’d practiced that one.

“Eh, misuse of potential…” — Melissa gave him a half-answer, lifting a hand up to scratch at the back of her head. It was in the micromovements, she’d heard. People let their guard down when you sounded truthful. Her stories were all the more honest when she looked like she believed them herself — “They’re pretty heavy on that stuff where I’m from…”

Eventually she turned back to her door. Knocking one, two, thrice on wood — "Can you tell me what name it says on this one…? Trying to find my room…”

"Oh...! By the way, any of you two know if they've got cheese here...? I wanna try some..."

Then there was another voice, lighter steps. This one was high-pitched, had a kick to it. Jabbed her ears. But she had a nice smell too. Maybe a bit too overbearing, but pleasant nonetheless. Who was she again?

“Oh…” — Right, she had a boyfriend.

“It’s quite nice up here…”



miki miki BriiAngelic BriiAngelic thebigfella thebigfella
 
Last edited:
V
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Prism, Howell, Melissa, Beatrix
BEGIN AGAIN

Oh, V loved these people. They were exactly as she hoped—delusional for certain, with a mix of guilt-ridden anxiety for good measure.

V found Prism’s flirtations fascinating. What kind of mask was this, now? Was he trying to make up for a past involvement with the religion of loneliness? Or was it still a part of the mask? Ohoho, V still had much mining to do.

The boring man had tried to escape, but chance had swung down and bludgeoned his skull with a hammer. Prism had motioned V to follow him. She had already intended on following, but it was nice to feel included.

Prism began throwing one-liners at the white-haired woman. It was getting old now. She wished he would come up with something more interesting to say, other than ‘cutie’. Once is enough for a lifetime—several lifetimes, actually.

She wasn’t Amestriyen. Amestriyen. What a funny word! No matter where she ended up, this place always seemed to start with an A. What was with that, huh? Anyways, she was supposed to be talking to the accented woman. Tall woman. Gentle giant—her hushed voice was barely a whisper. Adorable!

She was probably a murderer. That would be funny, and V had grown intimate with the universe. They might as well have been married, had kids, shared a long-spanning romance across the cosmos? She knew the universe liked irony.

Blindfolded. Maybe she was like Medusa. Maybe she made human statues. Maybe V could strike a deal with her, an elaborate scheme where they would turn the rest of the inmates to stone, and then live in the large building and sell said statues for a ridiculously marked up price after weaseling their way into the art industries finest, and striking deals with art criminals, and then sending them to jail, and turning them into statues too, and then they would have a whole lot of money. And then they would have a dramatic argument about the morality of what they were doing, ending in the death of the gentle giant, the one in the right, because artsy films never let morality win. The earth becomes covered in evil and returns to dust.

But then she would get bored after putting in all that effort and then what? For fame? For glory? For money? Ring-a-ding, you got it my dear reader. Bor-ring.

Hm?

AND WHO IS THIS?

Blue-haired tomboy. She was funny. Cotton-candy headed-ass. And now V was a bad guy? AHT! Bzzt, wrong, donezo. You’re kicked off the program! V wasn’t bad, nor was she a guy. V wasn’t a good girl, either. She was avoid of anything significant while being everything that the universe had to offer. And you mean to tell her that she looked like a middle school OC?

I LOVE HER.

What a thick-headed girl. What a foolish delusion. This was rare, but not impossible—to believe that the world revolved around you. And normally, ironically (hehe, universe, you sly dog), the world did seem to revolve around them, things always happening to them, because they just attracted that attention. BUT HOW CRUSHING THE INEVITABLE TRUTH WAS. There was too much universe to be at the center of. The center didn’t exist. The universe didn’t exist. She didn’t exist, Beatrix didn’t exist, and yet here they all were, balls of remnant stardust, atoms, molecules, all clumped together in this weird rehabilitation center.

What fun.

“You’ve got a boyfriend? That’s too baaaaad,” V drawled, dropping herself horizontally on the floor. She prodded at Beatrix’s ankles like an annoying cat. “You’ve got a boyfriend? That’s pretty cool. Does he miss you? Does he write you heartfelt soppy letters? Do you hang out with him at one of those blocked off glass prison booths with the telefone-thingy and twirl the cord around your finger, reciting the agonizing reality of being separated? What a flirt. Bet he misses you. Does he write to you because he’s, like, your boyfriend? That’s awesome, girl! Bring it in!”

Before Beatrix could escape, V jumped up again and wrapped her in a suffocating hug.

AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa Haze- Haze- thebigfella thebigfella BriiAngelic BriiAngelic

 
Howell Moreno
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Agin
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Prism, V, Melissa, Beatrix
Begin Again

She was massive, towering over him. Even if he was standing on two feet, she would loom over him like the eldest tree. Even before she had spoken a word, it was horrifying that the numerous facets and factors that made him who he was all melded together in a jumbled mess of self-preservation. Like a street rodent who somehow found itself in the jungle, gazed upon by the massive predator who called it their home, knowing the only future you had was to be ignored or die.

There wasn’t supposed to be a third option. At least, Howell didn’t consider it. But as croupy tones of an unknown tongue drifted through the air, he felt the own oxygen in his lungs begin to flow once more, the tenseness around his chest decompressing. He didn’t understand a single word, but certain things transcended language, and subconsciously he could register a void where malice or anger could have occupied.

What he found was something entirely different, a warm smile, a good-natured giggle, and an earnest apology; regular human interaction, benevolence, and compassion that he had already signed himself off to the belief that had gone extinct, a concept far too big to survive in the cramped walls of rehabilitation.

Relief, probably more than he deserved, the most he had felt in weeks. It would only be moments until he would be dragged back into the tenseness of punitory. But now he enjoyed feeling a heart resting calmly in his chest. He pushed himself back to his feet and dusted himself off. It wasn’t until the massive woman asked for assistance that he realized something important he missed.

“She’s blindfolded.” Now thinking more clearly, his focus undid its concentration on the woman’s mass to observe her entirely. It was hard to miss such a distinct factor; it raised questions, ones Howell couldn’t begin to form. He didn’t need to question it; he already had an answer.

“She’s a dangerous criminal.” That was a natural conclusion; the more restrictions you had, the more constraints only meant that you were all the more dangerous. It was something that even Howell knew; it was a factor of life and rung just as true against metal bars.

Yet, despite his knowledge, he felt unsure. The way she spoke was too soft, a temperance refreshing as the winter morning chill in the furnace he had felt like he found himself in. She cooled the coals; that’s what he wanted to believe. Ambiguity allowed him to hang onto a bit more hope that there was a chance for normalcy within this place and that the concept of a gentle giant existed for a reason.

He was entirely prepared to help the woman out with the door, the very least he could do to thank her for being so forgiving, but before Howell could even open his mouth, he felt the return of unwanted physical contact. It caught him off guard again, but he reacted nowhere near as harshly as before, only straightening slightly in response. His eyes trailed before his head, meeting the brightly colored man’s feral smirk with a nervous smile.

Even if he outright stated it, the fact that he knew what Howell attempted was displayed entirely non-verbally. The arm was heavy on his shoulders, keeping him grounded, unable to float away.

“S-Sneak out? No, not at all!” He swiftly went to defend himself, eyes wide; he raised his hands defensively toward Prism, “I was just….”

His voice toned down until silence, stopping himself before he could spit a lie that could cause a problem for him. The last thing he wanted to do was for the man with him in an armlock to label him as a sneak and a liar. It was not that he cared for his opinion of him, but he knew negative thoughts could quickly spiral into something much more painful and dangerous.

So instead, he submissively accepted his position, looking toward the crowd as the discussion went on without him. His desire to leave the situation was just as prominent as before, but he could no longer leave without a good reason. This is why he hated attention being brought upon him.

Melissa was the first person to admit their crime, at least in Howell’s presence. She spoke it so fluidly that it would seem unsettling to anyone else, but from how she did, it almost sounded good. The ridges around a statement being softened behind the prose of feathers made it seem minuscule. Even though he knew little of the truth, the casual way she treated it almost made it seem no big deal. He wondered if what she did was truly that bad?

“She’s a criminal,” circumspection played its tune off-beat from the rest of the instruments playing their part in the man’s rationale, awakening him from the narrative he was beginning to mold in his head. It was too early to start finding explanations for others’ crimes, especially when he had not seen a reason behind his own.

The everyman’s introspection abruptly interrupted by a blur of blue; the constriction around his shoulders suddenly was separated, something wedging between him and everything else, a shield that acted on its own agenda.

Howell blinked, mouthing hanging slightly agape in surprise as he looked at the back of the new appearance. Her long blue hair went down her back, and the confidence and poise of the way she carried herself made it seem like she thought gravity itself would mold around her.

Howell blinked again; she definitely wasn’t like the other girls. He wanted to know more. Who was she? How could she act in such a way? Where did she get her courage?

…A desire that left as soon as she opened her mouth.

As she tossed out insults without discretion, talking about original characters and tossing out a corny quip about size, Howell squinted at her, a trio of sweat droplets appearing on his face.

“Another weirdo.”

When her tirade finally reached him, proclaiming she was already taken without being asked, Howell blinked a third time at her in silence.

“...Yeah…”

Even though he wasn’t asked a question, it was the only response he felt he could give. Then, to make things even more mind-numbing, the ostentatious wild child that was V started to go on a long-winded ramble. As she spoke, her words visibly flew through one of Howell’s ears and out the other.

“Does she not need to breathe?” Howell questioned, watching in the background as the spontaneous gremlin glomped the bluehead. If there were any two who hoped to keep themselves occupied with each other, it was them.


The wispy voice that was so close but sounded so distant turned Howell’s attention away from the obnoxiousness in front of him, turning to look at the massive woman once again. Her hands repeatedly patted against the door in front of her, which was not meant to accommodate her size.

Well, not just her size, either.


“Uhm… that’s the men’s bathroom,” Howell weakly clarified, acting as her eyes. There was still a bit of apprehension in how he spoke towards her.

To make the situation all the more peculiar, she also asked about cheese. Such a simple request made it hard to keep his skepticism about her. Was he overthinking things? Or was he overthinking things?

“Cheese? There’d probably be some type of cafeteria around here…right? It shouldn’t be too hard to find. I’ll go look for it, actually!” Howell pushed the thoughts aside, volunteering for a selfless act of kindness.

Well, that wasn’t the whole truth; he was mainly offering to get away from all of these people. So looking for the cafeteria was a perfect excuse to leave the situation.

“I’ll go see what I can find,” He asserted, not going to take no for an answer as he prepared to walk away on his ‘search.’



BriiAngelic BriiAngelic AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa miki miki Haze- Haze-
 
Last edited:
PRISM
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
BEGIN AGAIN

“Pervert? Little ol me?”

He pointed to himself with a wide grin as if he’d just been called a jokester instead. It was clear despite knowing the word itself he failed to comprehend the connotation as if the language was not his first language. He started to snicker to himself before continuing on.

“Well maybe, with the right partner anyways. Dunno how you got creepy though. Anyways little blue-”

He was quickly interrupted as two tone seemed to take a vested interest in little blue. Okay well that was weird. Maybe he didn’t want to go on that date with two tone. Well mister everyday was still a valid- oh and there he went again offering to leave again. Instead he focused on the woman who was restrained, if she really wanted to see if he was cute or not he might as well help her out there. Without really thinking about it he stretched up to help her remove the blindfold.

“Here ya are missy, dunno if we getcha that cheese but at the very least visions nice right?”

Once the blindfold was off he pocketed it into his sweater as his need to carry around miscellaneous shit still held up even though he couldn’t access his screen. Instead he focused on the fact that he really hadn’t introduced himself yet and someone he wasn’t actually noticed yet. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, so instead he flashed a dual peace sign in the same way he did to open up many of his streams.

“Where’s my manners? Well sorry for the lateness it's super nice to meetcha, I’m Prisma”

Despite not meaning to throw his voice into performer mode he found himself slipping into it once the introduction started. Whoops maybe he should have gone with his fake family’s name, Hyeun Park just didn’t hit the same way though.

“Right… anyways plain-o didn’t Tour guide say food wasn’t there yet. Plus do you even know where the cafeteria is?”


miki miki thebigfella thebigfella Haze- Haze- AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa

 
MIHALY
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
Begin Again
Noises and voices echoed around the ward as the other prisoners began to associate themselves with each other. That was of no consequence to him. He would not wish to learn anything of them. His hands already ran red with the blood of so many, and he feared that, if he had the misfortune of learning their sins, he would be tempted to dip his hands into the rivers of red once more. A poison that cannot be cured with medicine, a plague that was empowered by fear- there was only one panacea for such a blight. He looked wistfully around him, studying the architecture and the building's many features, registering the layout within his minds' whiteboard.

The whiteboard was momentarily pushed aside when he felt a slight resistance in his way. He stopped immediately and lowered his gaze. A beautiful woman with long, dark hair and startling eyes looked back up at him.

"Oh." His expression did not shift for a second, before realisation finally reached him. "Oh!" He looked momentarily startled, before he dipped his shaggy head, the white strands of despair hanging down over his gaunt face, and his form seemed to shrink even more, if that was even possible for a man of his great stature. "My apologies."

With those minute amount of words that fell from his mouth like gravel across the earth, dark and deep as midnight, he felt that he had expended enough of his vocabulary for the day. He gave another bow of deep remorse, before he began to stalk away from the woman like a shuffling oak tree.



@W I N T E R
 
Merrit Anderson
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
BEGIN AGAIN

Cold was a new sensation to Merrit. He’d always run hot and never worried too much about the temperature; a perk of his potential that he’d never known to be thankful for until it had been taken away. Since his incarceration it felt like a permanent chill had settled into his bones. Travelling through the mountains inside the prison transport, with a barely functional heater, it seemed he still hadn’t fully grasped how cold it could be. He shivered, tried his best to trap the heat from his body inside the orange jumpsuit provided by Stillwater Supermax Penitentiary and pressed against the side of whomever sat closest to him.

When they arrived at the facility, Merrit shuffled along, following the line of other convicts and squinting at the brightness of their surroundings. He could recognise nothing about the facility or the landscape surrounding it. Like arriving to Stillwater, he wasn’t sure what to expect or feel when he looked up at the building that would serve as their prison. He was more curious than afraid, but that in itself might be the problem. Very few things could make Merrit feel genuinely afraid. As a kid, he’d terrified his parents by balancing on the balcony railings from their apartment thirteen stories high, gotten into fights with kids twice his size without hesitation, and even as an adult, he’d signed on with the Scarlet Phoenixes without really thinking it through.

Sure enough though, one thing that did scare him was the most mundane part of their journey. On the elevator ride, Merrit tried not to think about how far down they were headed. He had to force his away brain from considering all the ways things could go wrong—from the facility collapsing under the weight of all that earth separating them from the surface, to the elevator shutting down part way and rendering them stuck for hours on end; a merry band of inmates and trigger-happy guards squeezed together like peas in a pod. If the peas had all been forced inside by gunpoint and the pod threatened to fall several hundred feet and crush them all to death at any moment. Was that an over dramatic rendition of the situation? Probably. Enclosed spaces never did sit well with him—not even after months of living in a tiny cell. There was something funny about that, really.

Eventually, they reached their destination and with great relief Merrit stepped out from the elevator. Yelizaveta is the one to greet them. She’s the first staff member he’s encountered so far and she’s charming in a way that sets Merrit’s nerves on edge. He can’t tell how much of her friendly demeanor is natural. Some of the most dangerous people he’s met had the easiest smiles. Whatever the case is, he’s grateful to no longer be in Stillwater, but under no illusion that he should trust whatever system is operating behind the scenes. Paranoia in healthy doses does wonders for one’s survival. Fear might not come natural to him, but overthinking sure does.

After having the cuffs removed, Merrit rubbed his wrists where dark circles had developed due to prolonged wear. No cuffs, huh. Whatever methods they’re using to suppress my abilities must be different from Stillwater. As nice as it is to be rid of them, I’m not sure that bodes well. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The library beckoned to him, but the thought of sitting down and reading a book wasn’t as appealing as it used to be. Reading had been one of the only activities available to him for the last few months and as much as he was grateful for the distraction, the ability to move more than nine feet in one direction was already reawakening that restless part of himself that used to have him looking for any excuse to go and roam the city.

Instead of the library, Merrit weighs his options. The Stillwater uniform doesn’t provide much insulation and the thought of adding more layers is tempting, but there's something about finally getting out of his cell only to immediately go back to his new 'room' that makes him feel antsy, like he might have become a little too conditioned to the Stillwater routine. So, determined to avoid both the library and his room, Merrit picked a direction and started walking, content to explore the place at his own pace. Occasionally he stopped to peer around the facility; marking visible cameras and examining the materials of its construction with inexperienced eye for architecture. His path would take him to the gaming area eventually, but he wasn't in a hurry to get there. Just stretching his legs was a luxury in and of itself.

 
THIRTEEN PEAKS REHABILITATION CENTER
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
Begin Again
"You had her what?" A madhouse ran by madmen. If you asked her, that's what this place was. Long, sharp strides advanced down the hall, dragging along with them a man-shaped weight, draped in a clinically pristine lab coat.

"I don't really see how that's any of your concern, Ange. How I run my department is my business, no?" Dismissive and incorrigible was the weight, nary a hint of remorse in his voice.

"No, Okata. Not when it involves the security of this outpost, no it's not." Angeline spoke through gritted teeth. An identification card, well worn from constant abuse, started to dance between her fingers as the pair stepped into the elevator, and it plunged downwards.

"Outpost? You really must stop using words like that. This is a medical facility, not some awful Ruthenian military camp." Listlessly, the lab-coated man flicked through his phone. While he might not have had a signal this many leagues beneath the earth, the device was still a treasure trove of illegally procured PDFs and video game classics. The merry, unmistakable anthem of Tetris filled the elevator as the eponymously named blocks started to rain down the screen.

"Could you n-?" Angeline pinched at her brow. She knew there wasn't any point in asking. The phone's small, tinny speakers melted into the elevator's own mind-numbing soundtrack, filling the tiny metal box with an air of mundanity that Angeline found entirely inappropriate for such a place. She briefly considered slapping the shorter man's phone right out of his hands, and was restrained only by the merry jingle the signalled the elevator's arrival, and the appropriately time sound of defeat that came from Okata's phone.

"Tch." He grimaced, and then quickly swiped the app into the trash. "That version had awful controls. I'll get a new one on my next day off." Angeline's eyebrow ticked with irritation, but she held her tongue and led the shorter man on. The earful she was going to give both him and his little helper could wait until after they had dealt with the newcomers.

The courtyard door swung open wide and fast under Angeline's weight. Her eyes quickly darted about the room, scrutinzing everything from the facility's fresh charges, to the manner in which the furniture, to- and this one she spared an extensively thorough inspection- the bespeckled Yelizaveta herself. It was only after she'd determined that everything had not gone wrong quite yet that she barked an "All clear!" back through the door, and Okata sauntered through.

"Hey hey, boss and bossette! Have you met my new friends? They're having a staring contest right now! Wanna do bets?" Yelizaveta smiled and sent the pair a wave. Okata replied with one of his own, and Angeline with a sharp jab over her shoulder. Get. Over. Here. Is what it, wordlessly, said.

"Now now, Liza, as much as we appreciate the enthusiasm this isn't the time for games." For some reason, Okata's phone felt especially heavy in his pocket at that moment. "I suppose the others are familiarizing themselves with the place? It's good that they're curious. That spirit will do you lot a considerable amount of good here."

Okata spoke, now, to the patients. He, about as loudly as he could, cleared his throat, beckoning for their attention.

"So sorry for the late introduction, everybody. Another of our patients was having a bit of a... Crisis and I was tied up with soothing them. That's why my lovely assistant here-" He nodded to Yelizaveta, who had taken to staring the starers. "-was the one to collect you. I trust you've found your way about your new lodgings, though if you haven't, you'll find your rooms in the upper half of the room, and the public facilities in the bottom. We've equipped your personal spaces with a few basic amenities, and provided you with a fresh change of clothes, which I'll be asking the lot of your to change yourselves into in a moment."

It would've been easy to have had them changed by force. With their Potentials disabled, the patients of Thirteen Peaks weren't much more than an especially rowdy band of regular criminals, but Okata believed that it was important for them to take the first step in cooperating themselves.

"After that, we'll be partaking in a trust exercise." Yelizaveta's ears perked up at that. "It's going to be... How would you put it? The first step of many in our journey together?" He gave the group a thin smile. "And after that... It's lunch! I'm sure you're all starved, so let's be quick, shall we?"

 
Last edited:
Melissa Grohl
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirtheen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Howell, V, Prism, Beatrix
BEGIN AGAIN

The whole room had a something to it, decadent, a little ambiance. An odd tincture in the air. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

It was hushed and muted, it had a gap, lost somewhere in her mind maze. It was absent, it was conspicuous, and it was familiar. Like the echo of a distant childhood memory, like the silhouette of a kid waving her over from the other side of the road. When was the last time she had been a part of a group?

When was the last time she opened her mouth to speak, willingly?

“Hm…” — It was a small moment of recollection there, a mental lagoon. She propped her head on one shoulder and you would’ve seen her cocked eyebrows peeking over the blindfold, like she were trying to make the memory pop out of her ear.

“Hmm…...” — Half of her expression was wide-eyed, irritated, sour. Below the blinds, not even the corners of her mouth twitched, not a crease, not a wrinkle. At her side, her hand twirled and fiddled with strands of white hair, wriggling it between her fingers. Restless. Absorbed. Estranged.

Those memories had a color, had a taste; did wonders as a tool in this meat-mech she piloted. Just why couldn’t she bring them out?

Problematic. Being a socialite. How did Amelie go around it? She used to have friends, didn’t she?

Melissa was deep in her train of thought, so much so that she didn’t quite catch the first, high-pitched, lively voiced getting drowned out by another new one. Animated, oddly sparkly. This one had the wrong type of passion to her voice.

She was there listening, just not reacting— then there was the half-brittle-half-monotone of the first voice she’d bumped into.

Men’s bathroom?

Her head perked up, and she scrambled to run her hand over the carvings on the wooden door, tracing them, head down and deep in focus like she were reading braille. And he really wasn’t joking.

“Well, that’s…”

Melissa was at a loss, her mouth hung open and the words drooled to the floor.

She was supposed to react, right?

Right.

“Maybe my name’s ‘men’s bathroom,’ you don’t know that…” — She felt the body pulse at the chest as she made the blood gather to her head. Her pale features were overrun with hues of mellow pink-red, bunching up behind her ears.

The bottom of her lip quivered, twitching, curving to a sneer that she hid over her shoulder. She coughed, cleared her throat — “Thank you, though…you’re too kind…” — The tall woman tried to pat the man’s shoulder, ending up grasping at empty air just a few heads above his. She sighed — "I’m a lost cause with this thing on…”

“They said I couldn’t take it off ye..—“ — Right as the words were about to leave her mouth, she felt something tug at that overhanging bang across her face, pulling at it.

“Here ya are missy,”

She stood still, light flooded her retinas, and all she saw was a mess of light and dark dancing at her eyes. Maybe there was a sting, maybe her eyes were melting at the glare—not that she could feel it. She didn’t know whether he was trying to blind her on purpose, or if he was just that dense.

Her blue eyes were glossy, red-rimmed, with dark circles under them. She looked from under the curtain of hair, squinted at them through hardened eyes. Their figures were moving shadows and smudges of odd shapes, but she could make out some hints of color.

“Er ist wohl nicht so schlau…” — There was a note of bitterness in her voice, even if she ended that sentence in a chuckle. A fair amount, the one she deemed natural for a reaction. But there was still a broad grin parting her lips. There wasn’t necessarily any malice, just plain excitement.

She beamed at them, flashing whites— thrilled, yet appraising. She slicked the hair out of her face, giving Prisma a good look— “You’ve got…pretty hair…? I think…” — Melissa had to squeeze her eyes to a slit to make anything out of the blur. Even then, it was all a mess of black-and-whites, topped with a mish-mash of colors.

The other two were overdoing it; the purple and blue duo; but she’d keep that to herself.

Her eyes dragged down the shape of their bodies, and slowly back up; having to really crane the neck both ways — “You’ve got a funny name too…I’m Melissa…” — She simply waved at both the multicolored blur and the monotone one, turning to the other two to do the same.

That same grin became thinner, gentle — “Give me a funny name too, if it’s too much of a mouthful…”

Another voice boomed throughout the room, and she immediately turned to it. This voice in particular was crisp, clear— ethereal in a sense. It rang with authority. Like stepping up to this man would be playing a dead man’s hand. And with how nulled their potentials were at the moment, maybe it was.

She wonders.

“Trust exercise…? Like a trust fall…?” — She folded her arms over her chest, a silent foot tapped once or twice at the floor. Melissa was genuinely curious on who would be catching her — "I suppose I’ll figure out myself if they’ve got cheese once we’re on lunch break…” — She chuckled, turning to Howell — “I appreciate the gesture, but I’ve already used up too much of your kindness…! You don’t have to go asking for that cheese…”

“Though…” — She started — “Maybe you can…point me to my room…? My eyes are still struggling here…” — Immediately contradicting herself right after.



miki miki thebigfella thebigfella BriiAngelic BriiAngelic AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa
 
Last edited:
Howell Moreno
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Agin
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Prism, V, Melissa, Beatrix
Begin Again

Finally, Howell had gotten the out he had been waiting for this time. Cheese, cheese, cheese, being the gopher for something so simple was nice and simplistic, just what he needed and missed.

For a short pause, it almost gave him some solace to be focused on something so benign, like he was going grocery shopping.

Of course, it was only a moment he could forget he was surrounded by people who defied all standard conceptions. Then, as he went to turn away from the scene, his eye caught the faintest glimpse of Prisma reaching up toward the giant woman’s blindfold without a single consideration or thought of the possibilities.

His head quickly snapped back over, jaw hanging open as his eyes went wide, reaching out towards the direction with an open palm in some flimsy attempt to stop him. After all, they had no idea why she was wearing that blindfold! What if she had some potential that eviscerates people with a glance!? What if she could blow up people with her mind!? Shift the world in a single blink?!

“W-Wait a sec--!” For the first time in ages, Howell tried to stop someone from what they were doing, fearing the worst for himself and everyone involved, by removing the blindfold. But, it was already too late, as he watched the flimsy covering lift off her face in slowed-down time.

Instinctively he closed his eyes, curling up his body and hopping onto one leg as he guarded himself against whatever was coming next, teeth gritting as a nervous sweat went down the side of his face, ready to have his flesh melted from his bones or something of the sort.

Yet, after a long moment of nothing happening, not feeling any pain or hearing any screams, one of his eyes blinked open, looking around to find…everyone was okay. Slowly he relaxed from his defensive position, placing both feet onto the ground as he sheepishly let his body droop in embarrassment, head dropping.

“I was worried over nothing….” He lamented, feeling like an idiot. The only thing that happened with removing the woman’s blindfold was the…unpleasant appearance of her eyes. Watching them adjust to her surroundings was not doing her any favors, paired with her already fearsome size.

“I’m happy she kept the blindfold on until now,” Howell exasperated internally, a blue-hued silhouette showing his inner apprehension as it slid out from him, a tired look on its face as it frowned with a slightly open mouth. If he had met her with her eyes looking like that, his heart probably would have popped out of his chest.

Prisma addressing him brought him out of his thoughts, his posture sharply straightening. He had forgotten entirely about his goal of leaving because of that blindfold! As quick as his stance had shaped up, it flopped as his body returned to his usual meek slouching.

“O-Oh, really? I didn’t notice…” Howell sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile as Prisma informed him that it was already stated there was no food present. Well, there goes his out. He didn’t know where the cafeteria was anyway, but as far as he was concerned, finding it was just another way to spend time away from everyone else.

It was at that moment that the courtyard door abruptly swung open. Howell turned his attention away from the others to look at the people who entered. From the looks of them, they were clearly staff. Howell breathed a sigh of relief; more authority around here could only mean a good thing for him.

The fear and apprehension-filled look in his eyes suddenly disappeared as he stood straight again, eyes focusing on Okata with intention. Letting every word, he said ruminate in his head. From the sounds of it, their personal rooms would be nice. And a change of clothes sounded like it would be good; a quick glance down at what he was wearing reminded him that he hadn’t been able to change or shower ever since he left his previous lodgings. Moreover, he was suddenly aware of how dirty he felt.

Before he could spend too long worrying about his personal hygiene, something much more disturbing was established.

Trust exercises.

Howell visibly swallowed at this concept, pupils dilating. Were they being serious? Trust exercises with these people!?

“They can’t just mean trust falls, right?” Howell questioned. No, there was zero chance they were about to have such dangerous criminals do something so childish they must have something bigger planned. Whatever it was, Howell didn’t want any part in it; how was he supposed to trust anyone in this madhouse?

Well…he guessed there was one person here who seemed to not be that bad. At least, he was starting to convince himself that she wasn’t. Howell’s head turned back toward Melissa as the giant addressed him personally, absentmindedly a smile gracing his face as he felt himself relax.

He had completely forgotten about the cheese at the moment; even if she didn’t know he had forgotten about her, Howell felt kinda bad he did anyway, even if his ultimate goal was just to use it to leave the currently growing group of people.

So when Melissa asked for help, Howell’s eyes immediately lit up. This was another chance!

“I should probably be looking for my room too…” Howell admitted, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t considered it til now as he scratched the side of his head, but Howell still wore a warm smile as he turned away from his own problems to look up at Melissa, “We can go look together, then,” he suggested, finally securing a chance to leave all this hustle and bustle behind, at least for a little bit. He had already begun walking towards another part of the courtyard before pausing on his heel and looking over his shoulder.

“Tell me if you need me to uh…slow down.”


BriiAngelic BriiAngelic AriAriAbabwa AriAriAbabwa miki miki Haze- Haze-
 
KINGSLEY PRINCE
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
Begin Again

Where were the comic books in this damn library? Her eyes scanned each book on the shelf, not one being what she was looking for. It didn’t really cross her mind that she was looking in the wrong area— she wasn’t very sure how libraries worked. She’d only bought books online, back when she was out. And then she’d switch them out for another one she knew had a similar price. It was so easy outside the clink.

…That was only three days ago, wasn’t it?

A long two days in her jail cell, and another long day spent traveling here.

Sigh.

Kingsley didn’t belong here. She was doing the world a service. Why had they punished her for it? She didn’t…

Her head slowly turned to the black-haired girl she had falsely assumed the identity of earlier. A downcast expression continued to stain Kingsley’s face, who was staring deeply into the woman’s eyes as she asked Kingsley a question.

Her hands clung to one another again. She debated on what name to give her, before settling on giving her every name she’d ever been called: “Kingsley.. Kip… Rox… Roxy… Queenie… Prince.

..You?”

Outside, metal clinked against metal. It sounded like they were getting their cuffs removed. They should probably follow suit…

Her eyes lingered on the ghost before she turned around and left her there— again.

As soon as the cuffs were removed, she rubbed her wrists, and then did a little stretch (and a little flexing). A few moments later, some staff member showed up to introduce himself to the group. He gave some more instructions, and a plan for the next few hours. Sounded fine, she guessed. Maybe this would be good.

Once the doctor(?) finished speaking, she wandered away from the crowd and found herself up the stairs. Getting to her room was rather easy, or at least, easier than she expected. She went inside and promptly changed. Now out of the old jumpsuit, these new clothes expressed her pure strength much better. Like the hero she was.

In her opinion, at least.

With nothing much else to do in the room for now, she left and jumped off the catwalk. Haha.. she probably looked so cool when she landed. She stood back where the crowd once was, waiting patiently whilst her head was turned to the ground. Despite the removal of her handcuffs, she held her hands behind her back as if they were still there.

…The ground was nice.






angel doe angel doe
 
PRISM
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
BEGIN AGAIN

Any words he would have said were lost as he noticed how red rimmed her eyes were. Oh wait had she kept it on for a reason? Too late now, he wasn’t giving the blindfold back. ‘Sides couldn’t get used to the light without practice. He smirked as she complimented his hair and then questioned his name.

“Guess its more a-”

There was no getting out the explanation of it being his streamer name before he heard the calling of the facilities employees. He turned to face the one speaking knowing better than to start on their bad sides. It was good to know at least someone was trying to give them some information. ‘Sides it wasn’t like it was hard to play their little games for some food.

He twirled around on the heels of his feet to face Melissa and the everyday man. Cool so they had to look for their rooms too… wait how were their rooms arranged. What name was going to be on his? How was he supposed to find it? Yeah. He better stick with them then. He played some more with blindfold in his pocket before deciding to just make the job easy.

“Hey if you want we could just lead you? Just grab one of us by the arm or something? ‘Least til we getcha to your room or something.”

He lightly bumped her side with his elbow giving her something to cling to if she so chose.

thebigfella thebigfella Haze- Haze-

 
FRANCIS ELESTIEL
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Bauk, Stare Contest Participants
Begin Again

As the conversation went on for longer than fifteen seconds, Francis suddenly realized a problem.

Who cares oh my God who caaaaaaressss.

What was the point of a favor-bet staring contest if they just arrived and couldn't do a celebratory backflip over a wall after? The woman didn't even have popcorn. Francis let his gaze dissolved and his mind wandered on a hill-top journey, away from the game.

He was a mindlate sojourner, a recuperating mind who missed the last train from nowhere. He was no longer a sardine or misogynistic or enthusiastic. He was... King Julien.

Unfortunately, King Julien didn't get to see his kingdom. Someone cleared his throat with authoritarian air that paved his hill-top flat. Francis blinked at the source. What. He frowned.

"Well, you could have just told us to change immediately!"

Group exercise! If he knew about it, he would have gone to mark a bedroom first. He turned 360 degrees with a huff and a raised chin. "Come on, Roomie. Let's go get dressed!"

Francis tugged the large man sitting on the floor toward their room. Tug, tug, he pulled at Bauk's shoulder. His roommate was much larger than expected. Francis gave Bauk a thoughtful look. "So do you have a name or do you wanna be Roommate? As in the room bestie?"



Tag: Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
MIHALY
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
Begin Again
It was minimalistic. Barebones. Nothing more than empty shelves and a bed with a thin mattress. He brushed one hand against the mattress. Even if it barely passed as one, it seemed quite new. This was more akin to a pitiful backpacker’s hotel than a prison. It even included the lack of a window. The shelves, however, were quite interesting. Bare as they were, they could serve some purpose, so perhaps they intended the prisoners to receive gifts or books to display upon them. How strange. He took hold of one of them and gave it a tug. Firmly bolted in. Someone could probably wrench it out of the wall, but that would do significant structural damage, and whatever they did with it would be fairly obvious.

Freedom, but not quite. This penitentiary served to be stranger and stranger with each observation.

He turned his attention towards the new set of clothing he had been provided, and winced. A simple t-shirt and sweatpants. He preferred baggier clothing. Still, he could not argue against it. He tugged his prisoner’s garb off, and paused. He traced a scar amongst many others that decorated his chest. Too little lives for so many deaths. He felt the non-existent contents of his stomach rise up his throat, and he choked it down.

One year. One year. He can start over again after one year. He pulled on the drab white shirt, and the accompanying sweatpants, and made his way out of the room, his old prisoner’s garb in his hands. He shuffled over to their guide, clutching onto the threadbare clothes. “Ms. Yelizaveta,” he spoke like gravel dragged upon the asphalt, “where do I put this?”



The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
BAUK
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
BEGIN AGAIN
Bauk blinked.

.

.

.

Oh, no! Bauk lost.

A little sad, Bauk looked down. There was a man there. Bauk did not recognize him.

The man spun all the way around. Bauk stood still.

They were told to get changed. Bauk didn't know. Most clothes didn't fit him.

Mother had made Bauk's clothes. Others were too small. From scraps and bits.

The small man tugged his arm but it didn't make Bauk move.

Exercise? He heard someone say. Were they going for a run?

Bauk liked to run through fields. Crash around trees. Make big sounds. Stomp, stomp, stomp.

Bauk didn't know it, but he had let himself get led by the man who called him 'Roomie'.

'Roomie' wasn't Bauk's name. Bauk's name was Bauk.

"Bauk," Bauk said. His mask made his voice sound raspy. He tilted his head. Did the man have a name?

"Room. Me?" Bauk asked. They entered their room. Bauk found his clothes.

They looked big enough. But there was a problem.

He looked around. His head was hunched a little.

Bauk couldn't see a place to change!

He looked down at his Room Me with dismay. What was he going to do!?

 
miriam
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
Begin Again
Miriam held Kingsley's gaze, committing every name she listed off to memory, "Lovely..." she mused, smiling. Just as she was going to give her own name, the other girl was off. Miri didn't question why and instead chose to follow in silence.

Hearing the clinking of cuffs, she quickly understood why Kinglsey had wandered off again. Finally, these bothersome things were being removed.

Once they had been taken off, Miriam murmured a soft 'thank you' and rubbed her wrists. Stretching, she scanned the area and looked over the other inmates, filing their faces away in her mind. She'd learn their names soon enough.

A man's voice reached Miri's ears and she quickly turned her attention to him. Her lip twitched at the mention of a trust exercise and she fought to keep her expression neutral. Miri would sooner cut her leg off with a spoon than do a trust exercise.

But, for now, Miriam decided to do as she was told and went to find her room so she could change out of this stuffy jumpsuit. Thankfully finding her room was relatively easy.

She immediately changed and stared down at the t-shirt, sweatpants, and white shoes, cringing.

"My, what ugly clothes these are..."

Miriam made a soft 'tsk', tying a knot at the back of the shirt so it was more tight fitting, and left her room. She was humming softly as she returned to the rest of the group so her arrival was not completely silent, pale eyes meeting the eyes of anyone she could and smiling at them.

Her smile almost vanished, though, upon remembering the mention of the trust exercise they had to participate in, "Is this trust exercise mandatory?" she questioned, turning her ghostly gaze to one of the staff members. Although she had a sweet smile on her lips, her expression was borderline murderous.


The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
Melissa Grohl
CS Link
SCENE:
eepy time
LOCATION:
bed
PARTICIPANTS:
Howell, Prism, V, Beatrix
BEGIN AGAIN

In her five years of endless monotony, coupled tight within those walls of darkness, of tedium and of ever-looping sameness, this here moment was definitely one for the stand-outs.

The sight of someone smiling up at her… It wasn’t something she had expected to catch a glimpse of once she got her first whiff of light after so long. For her eyes to be met with such a thing. Such a pesky, meaningless thing. The gesture felt almost alien to her, something about it clanged inside her chest, crawling up and burning at the nape of her neck— accusatory. Like it were shameful, like it were important.

Her father used to smile like that.

Was she disrespecting the meaning of a smile just by pretending like she could still smile?

She hated the feeling, and she loved it all the same. It sobered her up in a way.

As Howell began to pick his steps toward the adjacent doors, she stood there. Taking in the blurred view of his back turned to her, admiring the shape. Her body was getting out of control, it was moving on its own volition. Bothersome.

It wasn’t until he looked over his shoulder to address her that she snapped out of this trance, she felt something deck her on the side. It was more of a light tap. Prism’s words came to her then.

Melissa gave him an estranged, confused look. One eyebrow cocked. Not really giving him a tell or a reaction, just craning her neck down and looking on. Analyzing his shape.

This Prisma guy wasn’t just stupid. He was touchy-stupid.

Did he want her to grab him by the arm or was he just being friendly for the sake of being it.

…

She wondered.

“Ah, that’d be nice…thank you…” — For now, she’d bite.

Melissa outstretched her hand, bringing it down to where she’d felt the bump.

She landed on something. Something pricky; soft and silky all the same. She gently wrapped strands of multi-color between her fingers and lightly tugged, trying to get a feel of it, whipping the strands like a jockey pulling on the reins of a horse. It was a thing of reflex at the moment. She knew it was Prisms hair, but she also couldn’t resist the urge.

“Hü-hott…?” — She breathed with a deadpan expression. This horse wasn’t giddying up whatsoever; she quickly dropped the locks of hair and stuffed her hands back into her pockets. Melissa controlled every miniscule move, with measured confidence and calculated restraint, but without a sense of depth— without her eyes— she couldn't quite weigh her actions. Quite the dilemma.

“Hm, nevermind… It’s fine, let’s just…walk normal…” — She fumbled on the words a bit more, spat them out with an awkward tone — “It’s still…functional blindness, I guess… Don’t worry about it too much, I see where I’m going…” — She lightly shooed at Howell, urging him to move, fanning whatever worries he could’ve had with a hand.

With that, she sauntered over to where his shape was, keeping a mindfulness to the distance but staying at his side nonetheless. For a moment, she spun on her heel to look at the other two lovey-dovey duo —"Tschüss Tschüss...!" — Melissa waved a ‘see ya later’, beaming at the two. They looked to be having their own fun, there was no real need to bother them — “Haah… I was hoping one of the guards would show me to my room…”

Her long cascade of hair swung to and fro like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Each long step she took with a lag, once everytime Howell and Prism had walked three or four steps ahead of her. Long legs were a blessing in disguise.

“You think they’ve got a door my size…? That’d be funny…” — As the two men walked her to her room, Melissa mused the mental imagery of it. That of the tall wooden frame of the door, sleek and polished. Her name engraved right on it in blank-white letters…

“Very funny…” —She must’ve mused it a little too hard, her thoughts must’ve poured out into the cosmos, because that same door just so happened to be right in front of them. It stood out, comically tall, nudged as it was between two other normal sized doors.

She couldn’t quite make out the letters on those other two doors, no time to check on her neighbors.

Her hand traveled the length of it, hiking up the frame, a thin smile formed on her lips. Somehow, she was still half-bumping her head on the top of it. — “Well, this is my stop…” — She leaned forward, hanging off the door frame with both hands hooked on the header of it, her messy bangs hung above her eyes. Melissa’s smile was warm, honest. So much so that the thought of her playing it up wouldn’t have even dared cross your mind.

In truth, maybe she was a little excited for this new room of hers — “I’m grateful for the both of you…you’ve been way too kind for no reason, honestly…” — Melissa chuckled, straightening herself up on the ball of her feet — “It’s rare to see that in places like these…thank you…”

“Hope I’m not much of a bother next time around…! See you at the trust exercise…”


There was an immediate switch flipped once the door closed behind her, her gaze went wide. A gleam in the eye.

The moment her eyes fell on the blurred, distorted vistas of the bed, she immediately pounced on it like a wild animal.

Though way over king-sized, it wasn’t comfortable as she remembered them to be. It was harsh on the landing. She’d feel every spring dig into her ribs as she sunk into it, pressing against her skin, grating. Yet, with steady, eager hands she reached out from beneath the sunken, face-shaped hole she’d dug herself into. Snatching the stiff pillow, arms locked and squeezing it tight against her body, revealing the softness within.

Compared to the harsh, cold feel of the damp floor she’d lay in, this mattress was but a cloud, an oasis. A place of respite, a sanctuary that held promises of comfort and relaxation. It was as if it’d wrap her body in its warm embrace.

She was there, her gaze still, merely taking in the feel. It was offbeat. Outré. Vehement. Human.

What a funny feeling this was…

She didn’t quite remember it being this way.

She’d find her tense, knotted muscles gradually melting away. Her mind began to quiet. The body would move on its own, she didn’t care about exploring the rest of the room. This thing was all she needed to know.

The world outside drifted away, her eyes closed, still trying to remember how it felt. It cocooned her, and she was lost in a blissful haze. Such comfort. Such safety. Such peace. Melissa surrendered herself to it.

Wasn’t she supposed to get changed?

Wasn’t she supposed to be out there ready for their ‘trust exercise’?

…

“Mm…”

They’ll probably come knocking at her door at some point, she’ll get dressed then. Right now she had to savor this.

For as long as possible.

 
Last edited:
Howell Moreno
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Agin
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Prism, V, Melissa, Beatrix
Begin Again

Howell visibly sighed in relief as he closed his eyes, finally, he could get away from all the others and spend some time to himself. All he had to do was guide Melissa, and that was nothing to worry about.

Immediately when he opened his eyes, Prism was following behind, causing his head and shoulders to droop like a ten-pound weight had fallen on top of him, eyes narrowed into slits as a depressive blue hue trailed down above his head, “I should have known…” He lamented internally, but quickly pushed the apprehension aside, it's not as if he had to put up with it for much longer, and surely he would find someone more interesting to bother soon enough, flashy people like Prism and boring people like him never would mix.

“It probably would be better to just have her follow us, after all--” Howell began to explain why he was much more fond of the idea of leaving the giant to trail behind. He was prepared to list off things such as letting her eyes get used to working again, or that physical contact comes with some semblance of trust, just to completely dodge the real reason he didn’t want to have anything to do with touching her.

Because she was still kinda scary.

A point that was immediately proven as the pale-skinned woman reached down and grabbed Prism by his hair, tugging on it like she was pulling an onion out of the ground. In this situation, it would have been proper for Howell to find some type of joy in this, maybe reply with a witty comment, seeing as someone he didn’t like had gotten a taste of “what they deserved’. A reaction that would be much more fitting for a man behind bars. At the very least he could be amused by such a comical interaction.

Except, Howell wasn’t fit as a man behind bars at all, as the woman who was more golem than human tugged at Prism’s scalp, Howell’s pupils immediately fled from his eyes, leaving only the whites as a shock bubble appeared in the dark void that surrounded his shocked expression.

“She’s pulling on him!” He exclaimed internally, he had seen babies do the same things with dogs' tails, he never would have expected such a thing to come from a full-grown adult! He felt bad for Prism, but also he was grateful because that easily could have been him!

“H-Hey, are you okay?” He empathetically asked Prism, his usual bead of sweat and nervous smile returning to his face as he weakly gestured a hand in the man’s direction as Melissa let go of his hair, he wasn’t able to keep up this worry for someone else for long, as he felt the focus from the woman’s half-blind eyes turn onto him.

He instantly stiffened up, arms closing in on his sides as Melissa politely told him he could keep walking, though after what she did, to Howell it seemed more like an order. There was that fear he had forgotten about earlier, he was right about her being kinda scary.

“A-Alright, I’ll lead the way…” He weakly replied, slowly shifting back around to look at the nearby set of doors, keeping his head down as he walked, the ground was much more comforting than anything else right now. He didn’t say anything else on the way to the set of doors, just doing what he was supposed to do was his only goal.

When they finally stopped at the trio of doors, Howell raised his head to look at the massive one in the middle, blinking at it with his mouth hanging open. Of course, he knew who it was for, but it didn’t make seeing it any more surprising. It seems like this place was made with the idea of accommodating them. The fact they were willing to put that bit of effort in was somewhat comforting.

Though, now he was kinda wondering if the rest of the facility had accommodations for the people her size.

For now, he pushed that curiosity aside, looking upon the door placed to the left of the giant one in the middle. Compared to all the other doors, it had a distinctive difference, mainly because, well…

It had numbers instead of a name.

Howell looked at the door silently, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as a cold wind blew across his face, “They forgot my name again, huh?” He sheepishly mumbled, all too used to the treatment.

He broke away from his focus on his door, eyelids popping open in realization as he looked back over to his right at the massive door next to his. Melissa was going to be his next-door neighbor!?

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet. He supposed it was a good thing. Unless she was a loud snorer or something, then that would be terrible. But, she was better than the others so far, so maybe it wasn’t that terrible.

Just as he started to run through the pros and cons, he realized who was living on the opposite adjacent side, blinking at Prisma as all of them had their rooms right next to each other. Huh, what were the odds?

Yeah. He was happy that Melissa was in the middle of them.

Howell was grateful for that, not grateful enough to audibly say it, unlike Melissa who seemed to be moved by the kindness she had received. Howell found it somewhat surprising, after all, it was just normal behavior to help people who needed help, right? I guess among criminals, kindness is harder to find, but…

“Just how long had she been living in ‘places like these?’” Howell questioned a small blip of curiosity about Melissa once again finding itself on his radar, when someone seemed as genuine as her he couldn’t help but wonder where it came from.

“Just doing what anyone else would,” Howell replied humbly, he didn’t feel the need to ponder any further, at least right now, nor did he want to say ‘you're welcome’ seeing as he hadn’t done anything worth welcoming. At that point, he would have been taking advantage of Melissa’s kindness, at least that’s what he rationalized.

As Melissa entered her room, the massive door closing behind her, Howell went ahead and pushed his own open, stopping as he glanced over toward Prism, giving him a curt nod. He wasn’t a fan of the man, but at the very least he should keep things amiable. It’s much easier to avoid people you’re on okay terms with than those you’re on bad terms with, after all.

It was better for him to stay on Prism’s ‘okay’ side for as long as possible,
that was as far as he wanted the relationship to go, and that was the best way for him to stay safe among all these dangerous criminals.

He didn’t say anything else as he slipped into his door, letting it softly close by itself behind him, finally getting the time to separate himself from the rest of the world, if only briefly.

What he spent with that time was most likely nothing notable, just like him, but anyone who got close enough to the door could hear the sounds of metal scraping against stone faintly coming through.


BriiAngelic BriiAngelic Haze- Haze-
 
FRANCIS ELESTIEL
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Bauk
Begin Again

Francis missed having a private bathroom in his cell. Still, he sighed and got changed, and immediately missed having a personal wardrobe, too. West Fork Correctional Facility was still the best. Corrupt, lax, private-ran... This place felt more like prison prison. Amestrian.

"Room. Me?"

"Yeees?" Francis peered his head out from his cell and across the hall. That low rumbly voice could only be from Bauk. He blinked innocently, not wearing pants and still putting on his shirt. He was too used to being able to cover up with his illusions to tell. His cotton Superman underwear was showing.

Tag: Elenion Aura Elenion Aura
 
Last edited:
BEATRIX BLUE
CS Link
SCENE:
Begin Again
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Kingsley, Sin, Miriam
BEGIN AGAIN
"Bwah!" Beatrix almost fell flat on her back because of V. Being caught in a snare-like hug was the last thing she expected out of a girl looking like she did. And it was... suffocating! Did her strength come from unnatural hair colors?

"Dude! What the fuck are you talking about!" she spat through the intense grip. "And you know what? He will write me letters and visit, because that's the kind of sappy, love-sick idiot that Stan is! We've been through hell and back together—literally! So let go of me or else I'll kick your ass!"

Whether or not V let go, Beatrix eventually shoved herself free, donning a much more notable scowl. "I don't swing that way, so, sorry." She spun around, whipping her hair back as she separated from the group. Being the sensible hero felt pointless at this rate.

Fortunately, the staff provided a much needed break in the flow, providing an excuse for her to leave in a hurry.

They changed out their clothes to something more befitting of prison wear. Nothing Beatrix couldn't handle; if it fits, it works. The cuff removal was also a welcome bonus.

But it was the mandated trust exercises they announced that were intolerable. Glaring at Yelizaveta, she stomped to the front with plenty of words. "I'm not a kid. There's no way you're forcing me to touch these old hags and perverts. Some of them look like they'd get excited because they've never had a girl within 10 feet in their whole life!" She grimaced. To her, everyone in a prison was some deluded scumbag (despite the fact she came across a few not-scummy people not too long ago).

As if on cue, she heard that self-admitted pervert, Prism, being at it again! Saying something to a girl about grabbing him—yuck! She couldn't resist saying more to the guy. Beatrix cupped her mouth and yelled, "I'm sure you're happy, creep!" She popped the P as if to give the word more impact. Beatrix flicked her gaze away with a 'hmph.'


miki miki BriiAngelic BriiAngelic The One Eyed Bandit The One Eyed Bandit
 
PRISM
CS Link
SCENE Music:
A Deep Mentality
LOCATION:
Wilderness > Thirteen Peaks Rehabilitation Center
PARTICIPANTS:
Block C
BEGIN AGAIN

Hair pulling huh? Geez take a guy on a date first. At least that’s the type of joke he’d usually have hurled if it didn’t hurt like hell. He let out a hiss but ultimately decided against trying to make enemies since his lovely new neighbor let go without needing any additional prompting. ‘Sides if he was honest he’d probably lose that fight hands down. He let oyt a sigh of relief when the pain subsided.

He appreciated the concern from mister everyman but it kinda meant squat if he ran away from conflict as soon as it seemed she was rushing him. Instead he went back into his persona mode and laughed it off with strain in his voice.

“Me? Right as rain, a little hair pulling can’t scare off Prisma. The ladies likes what the ladies like.”

He fell behind reading each doors name off as they passed for the woman since she was “functionally blind” whatever that actually meant. He pronounced most with ease only tripping up against a few more foreign names. Still she must not have been too blind as she reacted faster than he could get names out.

“Eh, oh. Looks like we’re all neighbors for real for real.”

He laughed at the names written on the door. Seems like they just started listing monikers and “legal names”. What did they just not know or were they trying to end him immediately? He pushed open his door looking around. Oh there’s the clothing. He started pulling the clothes off before he was even fully in his room.

Play their games and he lived the high life. Once he had taken the moment to swap clothes he slid back out. His old clothes now littered the floor but its not like he had a roommate to complain about the state of things. ‘Sides if they wanted clean they should have specified.

“Easy peasy. Now we roll out and get the trust shit down and we can taste some sweet sweet grub.”

thebigfella thebigfella Haze- Haze-

 
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