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Character's name: Shaun Sawyer
Character's faction: Prison
Character's Rank: Officer
Character's survival stats: View
Description
Pale white skin with freckles, pale blonde hair and blue eyes – Shaun looks like a young, handsome, somewhat washed out young man. His face was rounder in his childhood, and elongated with puberty, but he still looks like the imp that he is and was, and his body is lean but muscular and very flexible.

Shaun is mischevious, easygoing, and very friendly but he's also a little reckless by nature, especially when showing off his acrobatics. He needs people and does not do well alone, so he makes a great teammate and will be as helpful as possible, but ultimately he is out for himself.


KITCHEN CRED


SECURITY CRED


MEDBAY CRED


SUPPLY CRED


FIGHT CRED



Bars:
★★★★★
★★★★★
★★★★

Solo: The Honey Cake Debacle

It just went to show that when things got bad, it was the little things that counted. Shaun contemplated how, today, instead of loitering around doing nothing or mechanically chopping canned veggies or trying to shoot targets, he had hung out in the kitchen with Joy Ann and Autumn and had made something beautiful and delicious with them.

Honey cakes.

Honey cakes.

Sweet and filling, crispy and soft, yet they kept for a long time and were inexpensive to make, supply wise. They were perfection. They were wonderful. Shaun hadn't realized how much he'd missed having sweets, and how much – moreover – he had missed having that birthday cake. It felt like an irreversably wasted oppurtunity now, but it no longer had the same weight.

In a sense, a month later, he had had that cake. Better yet, he had allies he could stand up for, if need be. Who wouldn't want to stand up for dumpy little Joy Ann whateverherlastnamewas. Also, the kitchen was a million times safer than anywhere else in the prison, save for his own cell. Shaun hadn't forgotten about looking after his own neck.

He lay back on his cot, watching for the nightly terror of lights out. He always tied his cell door closed before the darkness fell, security against any possible things that might lurk in the shadows. Not that there was anything. The prison was safe. Safe enough.

He wondered how his friends felt at night when the darkness came. He didn't know about Autumn, but Joy Ann was definitely not an inmate. How could she be? Sweet ladies like her didn't fall to petty crime. White collar crime, sure, maybe occasionally heavier crimes like murder, but the little things? Somehow, Shaun couldn't believe it. No, she was a good-hearted lady, and she had gotten stuck in this cage.

So had a bunch of other decent people, he was sure. One way or another, they had gotten themselves into this mess, into a nightmare trapped in a prison. But in the cage, at least they were safe. Outside the cage... not so much. Shaun hadn't dared to leave the grounds since his cell door had been opened and the faction had been formed. He supposed he'd have to, eventually, that someone would have to in order to bring in supplies and such, but he was not looking forward to the reality of outside.

Which is he thought grimly, growing edgy with anticipation as the harsh industrial lights blared down on his face, Very likely, the reality of my fate. Lets face it. It'll be a miracle if I live through the next month, let alone to the next year.

Also, when was that ******** light going to go off? He grit his teeth impatiently, squeezing his thin sheets in his hands until his knuckles were white. “Come on.” he mumbled, “Get it over with, turn off already.”

Click.

Darkness.

There. It's 9pm sharp. he thought, relaxing with a sense of weird relief at the inky impenetrable blackness that enveloped him. The routine was in place. There was some order, still, in this pretty damn hopeless world. Shaun had never had much order, and hadn't thought he was much of a fan, but when the darkness came when it was supposed to come, it was just kind of nice.

He pulled the sheet up and closed his eyes against it, prepared to wait out the night until tomorrow, and looking forward – very much forward – to the honey cakes and the nice ladies that went with it.

Solo: Purchased Freedom

Shaun was scouting out a good poker table to swindle, having been seriously considering Diana's advice. The more he looked, the more sorta-confident he became that he could do this. Games of chance were not his thing, but a lot of poker seemed to be lying and bluffing... that, he could do. He could do that well.

He loitered around one of the poker tables, waiting for the current game to end, watching with a strange sort of calmness as the people made their bets, went through the rounds, and contemplated their hands. The round was just ending when an attendant tapped him on the shoulder. He gave her an uneasy look – he'd been hearing about... disappearances. Periodic disappearances. The room where the woman ended up came to mind. And the horrible implications he had seen and heard for himself. It was an act of incredible will not to shudder away from the attendants hands... but he didn't. “What is it?” he asked, a little coldly. If they weren't willing to play their own game, could he trust them at all?

“Oh!” they said, their nimble fingers never stopping, “It seems that you have a benefactor after all, imagine that!” the collar slipped off in their hands and the lights went out. “You've been purchased, congratulations!”

“I have? But... who?” he absently rubbed the cold ring on his neck, the remnant of the terror it represented. Someone had freed him, when he had been all but ready to free himself. Someone was looking out for him.

It was a beautifully alien thought.

“Hmm, well.” the attendant looked at a slip of paper, “You were signed for by a 'Max Porter'.” they gave him a sunny smile, “Well, congratulations, you are no longer a participant, enjoy the casino and please, feel free to discover the delights of our restaurant!”

“I will.” he assured them. He watched them go. He would most certainly not.

He rubbed his neck again and looked towards the poker table, which was setting up for the next game. Dare he enter, then? He had coins, but he was free to leave this trap and go wherever he wished – back home to the Prison, even. But... He did have coins. He ran them through his hands, contemplating their worth, before sitting down at the table and placing his bets.

He'd been bought. Freed. Saved. He owed it to them to buy, free, and save another. So, that was what he would do.

“All right,” he said, grinning at the dealer with a not particularly nice look in his eye, “Lets play.”