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 Posted: Sun Aug 27, 2017 1:49 pm
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Posted: Sun Aug 27, 2017 2:01 pm
Long and tiring.
There were no other words that could describe Hale’s day as he sat down on his mattress staring at the emptied bed hanging above his head. He ripped off the bandaging and tossed it on the ground, a look of disgust spreading across his face. Hale had failed consistently now. Perhaps Hotts had the right idea when he called it quits. The ghoul was never in favor of keeping captives against their will, those types made him feel uneasy when he needed to depend on them for his own sake. He had learned over the years the best people to have near you were friends. How do you make friends with someone who never talks? The frustration he felt caused a tight pull at his chest.
Not to mention Julian.
He glanced at his fingers, gently flipping his palm to look at each of his overgrown nails. He’d have to properly groom himself soon. Preferably on Julian's bones after he finished ripping the mage apart. Mage? Nymph? Surely he couldn't be a mage if he could change his blood to ink. But why were his files incorrect? Hale reached into his pocket pulling out the wrapped razor and the inner pieces of a pen. He had torn one apart so he could use the ink inside once he was finished with the mage. That was where they were supposed to sign together. Julian had backed Hale into a corner. He had absolutely... Hale shifted his attention to the cell doors when he felt someone hanging there. Pinky. ”What do you want?”
”Yo dinner?” He asked holding out a cup-a-noodles. ”Want some?” The intruder plopped himself down next to Hale. ”What happened with Adam? I missed the memo.” He held out the noodles to Hale a second time just to hear the ghoul let out a hiss of displeasure.
”He’s an idiot is all. I’ll sort it once he’s back.” No he wouldn’t. There was nothing Hale could do once Adam was taken away. His opportunity to do anything was… Nonexistent from the start. With a sigh, Hale stood up pushing himself away from the bunks. His cell always ended up being flooded with members of his gang that lived on his block when they had free time before bed. It was only naturally that his room was the most lively. Everyone was always trying to suck up to him or chat with him about a number of different issues they needed help with. Hell, some nights were nice. Not with his current group. But earlier. He used to have really nice nights before when they would just group up and play and chat with one another. It seemed a large chunk of the past inmates took any sense of fun with them when they had been replaced with the newer ones. It used to be almost enjoyable.
He moved down the hallway keeping his eyes peeled, specifically, for Wes. There was no telling if the shapeshifter was in his cell, or hanging out with one of his little prison buddies. Plenty of guys liked to group up and look dinner or hang out and chat in the freedom of their own cells where they weren’t surrounded by masses of other prisoners.
With one of his hands wrapped round the cold bars, Hale leaned towards the entrance of Wes’s cell. ”Hi.” His tone was oddly sullen. It might have been because Adam wasn’t on his heel like usual. Hell, everyone was probably so used to Adam living off his hip that seeing Hale by himself probably just looked straight unnatural. It had been well over a year now and that damned caim rarely left his side. ”We’re going to welcome newbie to the family.” He nodded over his shoulder lightly, indicating Wes was meant to drop whatever he was doing and follow right along. Of course the shapeshifter couldn’t be stupid enough to believe Hale meant welcome when he said it. He twisted everything. Always.
So when Hale swung back into his cell and sat at his bed, he took the noodles from Pinky’s hands and jerked his head towards the door. ”Bring me newbie.” He stated coldly, placing the cup-a-noodles on the floor near his foot. Pinky scurried off pretty quick and seemed amused as he passed Jacob’s cell.
”You comin’ to the party?” He asked pressing his face up against the bars. Jacob could only glance at the annoying goddamn facial expression Pinky tossed his way. He was never allowed to break out calling him a retarded ******** walrus. Play nice. He was always forced to play nice.
”No.”
”You ain’t no fun. Hale said you needa come.”
”Oh well.” A skeptical glance was exchanged between the two before Pinky continued on his way. Jacob sighed as he began to trot along the hallway to make his way for Hale's cell. There was no point in taking risks if Hale asked for you directly. You don't ignore someone like Hale. Pinky only paused once he was standing over the bright orange jumpsuit that let everyone know who fresh blood was. Logan wouldn't get the normal dark blue uniform until later in the week when a new one got shipped in.
”Boo.” Pinky’s lips curled back as he tugged on the fabric near Logan’s collar, dragging the kid a few paces back. "Guess who." Because of course Logan didn't know his ******** name yet. tab
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Posted: Sun Aug 27, 2017 6:45 pm
  Logan had kind of hoped that the pain would have worn off by the end of the day. By the time he'd been finished eating his lunch (ugh, how could anyone stand that sloppy s**t? That was gonna take some getting used to.) his eye had finished swelling. It wasn't swollen shut, but it had blackened all the way around his eye socket, and that eye was stuck in a perpetual squint. Likely would be until at least tomorrow, if not for a few days. So, that was a fantastic start to his two year stay. Suddenly, a two year sentence felt like a much, much longer span than he'd anticipated initially. By the time he'd finished up and followed the rest of the group that Hale had ditched him with - silently, of course. Like ******** did he want his lips ripped off - he'd only gotten two minutes of time in the yard before everyone had to go on their faces because some dumbasses got into a scrap. So that had been a fun and enlightening experience as well. The initial pain of his injuries had dulled a little, but then it merely resurfaced in new, more exciting ways. Like a deep, penetrating, aching soreness, down to the core of him and out the other side, it felt like. Especially his ******** leg. He'd thought about going to the bathroom to check himself over. He knew that his leg was gonna be black and blue from the multiple hits it had taken, and his side was killing him. Despite what Logan thought, none of his ribs were actually broken. but, since he'd never actually had broken ribs, he had no frame of reference for what that would feel like. As such, the mage was terribly concerned that they were shattered. Or maybe that was just the blow to the head Hale had given him after he'd opened his mouth again.
It wasn't a mistake he was overly eager to repeat. But he also wasn't terribly keen on going to the bathroom alone - he'd heard all kinds of terrible prison horror stories about that, and after his first round of 'introductions' he wasn't eager to get another one. He couldn't exactly get someone to come with him without looking like some terrified pansy, particularly since, without being able to open his mouth, he'd basically have to hold hands with one of these assholes to be able to talk to them. And that, well.... just wasn't a good look, to say the least. Last thing he needed was some shitty nickname. So he had to forgo checking over all of his newly earned bruises and abrasions. There wasn't much to be done for the persistent, terrible aching that permeated his entire body as the day went on. The best thing he could do was to distract himself. Admittedly, there was plenty for that, between that pin-headed ******** being a loudmouthed, obnoxious asswipe and the other ghouls picking and needling at him. He spent most of the rest of the day practicing his silent scowl at them, and picking at the stinging cuts Hale had given him below his lip. That had been the weirdest ******** thing about the whole encounter. The scariest, weirdest, gayset part. And definitely the gayest way to mark someone. He'd have been even more confused if he hadn't been able to get a glimpse inside the ghouls head when he did it.
When he finally made it back to find his assigned cell, he wasn't shocked to find some tall, burly a**, scarred up ******** in there waiting for him. He looked like the picture of a stereotypical prisoner. But, in the free time they had, and without Hale or his pet guard on his heels, Logan tentatively stretched his muscles a bit. He still didn't open his mouth - for all he knew, this guy was one of Hales buddies, too. Logan had no idea how far the ghouls influence reached. But, with no guards on hand.... he reached out with a tendril of consciousness. He couldn't communicate directly, but he could still issue orders.
[ Turn around. ]
The scarred male had been focused on his bunk, but turned to look at Logan when directed, flicking his eyes over him. Who burned this guy up all over?
[ Introduce yourself. ]
"Chase."
The burlier male growled. There was no tug of resistance in his mind, nothing that pulled away at the invasion. so, if Logan had to guess, he'd say he was either a lycan or a metamorphose.
[ Tell me what you are. ]
"I'm a jaguar."
He stated easily, although there was a very slight twinge of resistance then, confusion as to why he was oversharing. But it was gratifying to know that he had been correct. The big cat narrowed his eyes, frowning at the mage as he stepped further into the cell. Closer. "...What, not much of a talker?"
[ Shut up. ]
And he did. He watched Logan for a few more moments before shrugging and turning away. How lucky, his cellmate was another dumb animal, like Blake. He was glad for it, quietly. This guy was about twice his size and width, and frankly, he looked like a mean ********. And with what Hale told him about time being added onto his sentence, well.... he wasn't as eager to jump on that psychic abuse train again. He wasn't sure what to do to get settled in, apart from test driving the cat more. But too much too quick would be suspicious. Maybe he could just - wait, what felt warm? Logan turned just as the pink-headed ******** grabbed his collar, grinning at him like some kinda dingus.
"Boo."
Logan couldn't retort - he KNEW this guy was on Hales roster, for a fact. He'd sat there in the lunch room and listened to Hale explicitly tell the guy to tear his lips off and knock his teeth out. So he kept his mouth shut tight, only grunting his displeasure as he tugged him away, a few paces back. Chase looked up from his bunk, glancing between the ghoul and his new cellmate. Chases size and strength was nothing to sniff at. But while the jaguar was no political powerhouse, he wasn't a dumbass, either. He knew who Hale was, and who he ran with. So when the thoughts in his head said,
[ Stand up. Be concerned. Ask him what the ******** he thinks he's doing. ]
He started to move, training his eyes on the ghoul. But then he paused, making a face. Nah. Some random stranger wasn't worth it. If this kid was already marked as one of the ghouls new bitches - and judging by the marks on his lower lip, he was - then that was his own problem. The jaguar settled back into his place on the bottom bunk and ignored the sudden impulse to try and defend the kid while Logan silently cursed. The stupid ******** cat. So he didn't resist, aside from swatting at the ghouls hand in an agitated motion and quirking an eyebrow at him. He stepped readily where he pulled him, just wondering what the ******** he wanted.
"Guess who."
He gave the ghoul an exasperated look, then. Even if he DID have the ghouls name, he obviously couldn't ******** answer.
#D57632
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Posted: Sun Aug 27, 2017 10:58 pm
 
Thirty-One. Thirty-Two. Thirty-Three.
Breaths of effort puffed out with each mental tally of the set of repetitions Wes was focused on. Steady hands gripped the cool steel of the edge of the bottom bunk with his feet placed at full length behind him as he performed the elevated push ups. In a reality where there were only a few choices in regards to mental and physical stimulation, Wes preferred to read books from the library and to perform somewhat rigorous workouts. Working out before the night was called, and everyone had to resign to their cells helped keep the mind from roaming for hours into the night time hours. If his body was tired then his mind would soon follow pursuit to allow him a decent rest, something of which was important when angles were always being played around him. A lack of sleep was just another thing that could be used to throw someone off in a critical moment, dulled reflexes could easily mean life or death. Even if such a thought sounded needlessly dramatic.
Thirty-Six. Thirty-Seven…
For the time being Wes his cell to himself his cellmate, a ghoul of diminished mental capacity and a name that Wes had never bothered to learn and remember, was off somewhere doing god knows what with the rest of the gang. They were an unsavory bunch of men with simple directives fueling their day to day lives as far as the shapeshifter could tell, all the underlings seemed to care about were food, sex, and power. Individually they posed no real threat to anyone. Sharp teeth, bad manners, and low intelligence thresholds could cause minor problems in the big scheme of things though they could also be easily snuffed out under the heel of someone’s boot. If they had never been brought together by their current leader then the ghouls wouldn’t be in their current positon of power over everyone else. It was Hale who had the brains to navigate prison politics and demanded a level of respect to keep those hungry little followers of his from falling out of line. Wes had simply been lucky enough to have been pointed in the direction of the man in power before ever stepping off that bus in those bright newbie clothes. While a part of him was thankful to Hale for having a big enough shadow to hide in, there was the need for freedom from people like Hale and like the blood nation. People like that promised safety for the small price of everyone else’s soul.
Forty-eight. Forty-nine…
“Hi”
The single word made the Shapeshifter stop in his movement, arms outstretched and locked at the peek position of the pushup, dark blue eyes looked towards the cell entrance where the Hale stood. It was odd to see just Hale in the doorway without his trusty caim sidekick there with him, and it must have been that lack of company that made the ghoul sound so.. glum. Uncharacteristic, but understandable with the events that had taken place in the yard earlier that day. Wes had been sitting out in the yard with a book, having skipped lunch since there was only so much gruel he could stomach, when the werewolf went beast mode on his companions. He had a good enough view, even from across the yard, to see that Hale and Adam intervene and it spiral even further after that. It was hard to forget having to kiss the ground while guards worked to suppress the outburst, Wes had seen a lot of s**t since he got sentenced but a caim going beserk was a new experience. Hale seemed to be reflecting his day of defeats only on a minor level and was aiming for at least one success before the evenings close. There was rarely a time that Hale personally sought the shifter out without there being some sort of task pinned to his appearance.
”We’re going to welcome newbie to the family.”
There it was. That was the reason Hale showed up in the first place, to “Welcome” the new kid into the “family”. It was always about context and meaning with Hale and how he always twisted every idea to fit his own sick definitions. Wes wished this welcome party would be a party with some cheesy snack assortment from commissary where everyone high-fived and welcomed the kid into the group with open arms, he knew that was the exact opposite of what it would be. He has seen this newbie for only a moment earlier, but Wes knew by the looks of him that Hale had already roughed the kid up quite a bit. Whatever happened next would simply be adding insult to injury, and more likely than not Wes would be a tool to amplify the effectiveness of that insult. Wes had ample experience being nothing more than a tool in the minds of others. The unspoken direction for the Shapeshifter to drop what he was doing and follow the ghoul had been noted.
Fifty.
Wes finished his last repetition to finish out his set, before pulling his feet towards the bed and pushing himself up into a proper standing position. Turning to face Hale, he nodded his head in acknowledgement of what he has said about the party. Always a follower, never a leader and never free from some form of forced structure. It wasn't a blood nation henchmen outside his door telling him there was a body to dispose of in a back alley somewhere anymore, but now there was no consistency in what Hale wanted him to do every time he called on him. With the blood nation at least he knew, if he was called someone was dead and he would be butchering some poor sod into a bunch of pieces to make into fertilizer or ghoul food. With Hale the game always changed, the demands changed with it and Wes was always put on the spot. Being a shapeshifter specialized in manipulating limbs into bladed weapons was a special thing in prison... it meant he always got to cut things up.
Now those things he cut had pulses.
“Yeah, I’m right behind you.”
Wes took a moment to wipe away a couple beads of sweat from his forehead and to pull his hair from the bun it had been in while working out before stepping forward to exit his cell and to follow Hale towards the festivities. As far as festivities went, he was sure this endeavor was going to be more like a dog fight than a party..
“What’s the newbie’s deal?”
There had to be some reason that Hale was recruiting him so quickly, something special that Wes was not yet aware of. He hadn’t been in the lunchroom when Hale took claim of the youth, or made the proclamation that if the boy spoke his lips were to be ripped off. Call him crazy if he was interested in knowing what other tools were being added to Hale’s tool box that already consisted of some unstable ghouls, a caim, a corrupt guard, and a handful of unknowns.
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Posted: Sat Sep 02, 2017 2:20 pm
Prison families were the most important thing you could have. Hale always put his men, his gang, first. He knew all the things he could do with a psychic mage. Psychic mages were one of the few who could probably get through a sentence all on their own. They could manipulate anyone who tried to mess with them, or some could wipe the short term memory of a guard, or some would steal items from commissary to use in order to trade with. The options were endless and it really only came down to how creative you were. Hale, of course, worked his damn a** off watching every manipulate move the prisoners made and tried to learn and re-adapt their methods to tuck up his sleeve and use for later. Hr had to learn that quickly or the hundreds of other inmates that were eyeing him and constantly craving to take his spot would win.
Now it was difficult to look at Logan and not see Julian. Hale knew what he would be looking at once he moved back to his cell. The denial was fresh in his mind, Julian puking up on Odin's d**k but unable to do him one favor. Tomorrow would come quickly and the werewolf would be taken. Revenge was easy. It was simple. All you needed was to snap his little neck in the yard and make it look like he was just napping. Was his pride worth it? None of this had ever been about Julian from the start. He was a mere pawn. The only role he could play for Hale was by luring the werewolf in closer to them. What do you do when the pawn thinks he is a queen? Julian must have believed that Odin was the king. He clearly didn't know anything about the prison game. His eyes shot forward to make contact with Wes as he caught hold of those light eyes.
"Yeah, I'm right behind you."
Wes wasn't one of his men who were into it. It wasn't hard to see year in and year out as inmates slid through his fingers like sand. Hale got a feel for who was loyal to him, and who had been using him as a way to survive prison so they could leave in one piece. Wes was so valuable with an ability like his that Hale was going to have trouble letting him go. In fact, very often he found himself daydreaming about the boy slicing a guard's arm off so he'd be sentenced to life in the joint. His mind would be at ease if he knew the shapeshifter would never leave him. After all, he rarely needed to smuggle in the small things like razors and shank-worthy trash when he could snap his fingers and have whatever he needed replacing Wes's limbs. That had been something Hale put a lot of time and energy into being sure that he had the proper connections. His brother was more than enough at times, but Solomon got nervous at times. Hale didn't like putting his brother in an awkward position like that unless it was important. Unless it was life or death. If he just needed someone gone or threatened, he could find more colorful ways to do it than forcing his brother to smuggle in all sorts of small trinkets and contraband.
Hale’s other connections weren’t too trustworthy. He would cut deals with the vampires or any of the other small groups who held enough power to be worth the time of day. When you went to the people who wanted you dead they didn’t do s**t for free.
”What’s the newbie’s deal?”
His eyes darted around the block taking note of who was within earshot. Hale twisted his body angling himself closer to Wes as he tapped the side of his skull. ”Mage.” He said quietly. He twisted his finger, slowly shifting it in a circular motion so Wes might pick up the hint that Logan was the type who jumbled brains. ”Psychic.” He muttered once they had walked far enough from the first half of the block that certainly nobody within earshot would have picked up both words. He waved his hand to the side as though to say it didn’t matter. ”But not for long.” He said the words just as he had enough time to circle round the entrance to his cell. Logan was there with Pinky standing next to the young boy.
Pinky didn’t give Logan much attention when he came to get the boy. After trying to spook him a little, he shuffled the kid off to Hale’s cell block then began chatting up a storm with Jacob. The other ghoul wasn’t interested in anything Pinky had to say. He had said repeatedly I don’t care directly to Pinky’s face, but the damned idiot just never seemed to take the hint. He didn’t manage to quiet down until Hale showed back up with Wes.
”Oh.” Was Pinky’s only response as he realized Hale had brought the resident butcher. Kiddo here was in trouble. He must have already spoke to someone and word carried up through the grapevine. Hale glanced towards Jacob. He tossed a small object into the ghoul’s lap, so the man began to fiddle with it until he unwrapped the razor in its entirety.
”We have teeth, you know.” Jacob reminded the ghoul as though Hale forgot they could bite through anything much more effectively than a dinky little razor. Hale just laughed a little.
”You don’t want to stick your teeth in this.” Especially Jacob. He was one of the men with a lower sex drive. He never got into relationships or drama. He never disobeyed. He shut up and did what he was told always being efficient and dependable. Hale liked the types who could keep secrets. Hale stepped closer to Logan, taking the kid’s arm and nodding towards Pinky, silently telling the other ghoul he better catch the kid once he fell. Lines of sharp teeth dug into Logan’s skin as Hale bit straight through the bright orange sleeve. It wasn’t like Logan would be wearing it for long. Who cared if it got ruined? Pinky reached out grabbing for Logan’s other arm and the two stopped him from bashing his head in against the hard surface from the floor below.
”What are we doing to him?” Hale reached up and pressed one of his digits against his teeth.
”This. Making him one of us.” Then Hale moved to the bed and took a seat. ”And once we’re done, he will be allowed to speak.” He nodded towards Jacob, then made quick eye contact with Wes. ”Who’s ready to try first?”
Jacob’s attention turned to Wes, then dropped to the razor. ”Up to you.” He shrugged in Wes’s general direction. It’s not like the shapeshifter had ever sharpened a set of teeth before, had he? It was the first time Jacob had seen Hale do this before and he had been around for a long time now. He pressed against the sharp edge trying to get a feel for how fine the tip was. Unluckily for Logan, it was rather dull. tab
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 6:45 pm
Family came first; above all else you keep your family safe even if that meant sacrificing yourself. That had been Wes' ideology before he came to prison, it was what he had clung to for the last decade to justify the work he did for the blood nation. The shapeshifter had willingly sacrificed his own freedom, in a sense, for his grandparents when Blood Nation thugs had come around threatening his grandfather into being an asset for the gang. They were elderly and presumed to be easily manipulated, but they were the most stubborn people Wes had ever me. If he hadn't agreed to be a butcher for the Blood Nation then one or both of his grandparents would have been long dead. Mammy and Pops had done their share of protecting, compromising, and raising in their lifetimes and Wes felt that they deserved some measure of peace. It was what his parents had failed to do, leaving the burden for the teenager (at the time) to take onto his shoulders.
Family came first.
Prison families were far more complicated than biological families. Within the walls of a prison it was rarely blood that connected "families" together, it was more of a matter of common interests, cell blocks, and a need for protection. The ghouls, the group in charge, was a decent enough family for Wes to be a part of, but it was a far cry from a family he would die for. The group had power, it had numbers, and it provided protection for those who would otherwise be eaten alive by prison politics. For Wes, however, it lacked any emotional connection other than the need to keep himself alive. Within the group he was simply a tool, something at Hale's disposal to make the leader's job easier. If he functioned for Hale's purposes then Wes was assured protection. Wes was smart enough to know that if he dared to cross Hale, then he was a dead man. Having a cell in the heart of Ghoul territory... He'd rather not think about the retaliation that would be produced; Not when a fresh-faced mage who had done nothing but breathe within the walls of the prison had received such a hostile welcoming.
With all things considered Wes would be by Hale's side, for however long the connection would prove effective in assuring his survival. Tonight it meant that Wes got to have a front row seat to Hale's latest venture. Wes had abandoned his cell, most likely until lights out, to follow Hale to the evening's festivities. As they walked, Wes waited for an answer from the other as to why the new kid was so important. There could have been any number of things that weren't obvious to the naked eye.
"Mage" … "Psychic" … "But not for long."
The message had been broken and paused to match the moments of 'privacy' between cells, and mixed with hand gestures to get the point across. Hale managed to answer his question before they made it to the ghoul's cell and round into the entrance, but Wes left with a few more questions to go with the answers. What did he mean, "But not for long."? Was he going to make the Mage a useless drugged up husk like Cedric? Or was Hale going to scare the boy so thoroughly that the mage would think twice before even breathing without the Ghoul's say so? They weren't going to kill the mage, at least not tonight and not within Hale's cell. Hale was far to intelligent for that and he didn't need Wes in attendance for something of that nature.
"Oh."
The constant yammering from Pinky had been silenced with just the sight of Wes at Hale's side, because they all knew the implications. A gathering like this with the butcher in tow of their fearless leader meant more than just a meeting of the minds. The chatterbox was an annoying creature that Wes rarely paid any mind, so his eyes passed Pinky over to take account of the others in the room as he took a spot leaning against the stone wall of the cell interior. Jacob was there too, Hale had tossed something onto Jacob's lap that caught the shifter's attention. What did Hale have in mind? Wes felt his brow furrow in slight confusion at the sight of the dull razor that had been wrapped in some kind of cloth. Why was it that Hale had brought him along if they already had a weapon of sorts to carry out the task? If they were just going to cut the kid up, then the razor was more than enough to accomplish that.
"We have teeth, you know."
Jacob voiced his own opinion regarding the delivery of the razor, bringing up a good point that Wes hadn't immediately thought of. A majority of Hale's flock were already armed to the teeth, quite literally, with evolutionary weapons. Sharp teeth and saliva with various effects, the group could do plenty of damage with just a bite. So, if inflicting pain wasn't the goal then what was?
Wes stood to the side as Hale and Pinky set to work restraining the mage. After a bite on the arm Hale's saliva rendered the mage incapable of moving, what a useful ability the leader had; not to mention terrifying. Another reason Wes wouldn't betray Hale so easily, not when the ghoul could inflict a world of hurt when he was rendered unable to defend himself in any fashion. The shapeshifter could only imagine the level of fear that this kid was feeling now that he was paralyzed, face down on the cell floor, and surrounded.
"What are we doing to him?"
"Making him one of us." After a gesture to his teeth to imply what he meant Hale had moved to the bed, the perfect place to watch his handy work unfold before him. One of Wes' previous questions had been answered, he now knew what Hale had meant by saying that the mage wouldn't be one for long. It wasn't a literal change, but it was close enough, if the kid looked like a ghoul then why would anyone suspect him for reading their minds or manipulating them? It was ingenious. "And once we're done, he will be allowed to speak." Hale glanced between Jacob and Wes, clearly intending for the pair of them to complete the task at hand with no objections. "Who's ready to try first?". Hale questioned.
Something made Wes feel like it wasn't a question, but rather an unspoken expectation as to who went first. Jacob didn't jump up to take the task at hand head on, in fact he made it up to Wes as to who went first. Just like that, the shapeshifter was in the spot light of the moment and he had to choose to either rise to the occasion like a good little tool or balk and make himself seem less useful. If the shapeshifter lost his value then there was no reason for any type of protection to be extended to him. So there really was only one option.
"Eh, I'll go first. I've cut through plenty of bones." Wes commented with a shrug of his shoulders, as he moved so that he was in front of Logan's immobile body. Kneeling down, Wes rested his arms over his now bent legs as he looked the Mage over for a moment now that he was up close for the first time. Just because he had volunteered to go first didn't mean that he had actually wanted to reach into the kid's mouth and mutilate his teeth. However, Wes knew that if the kid had any change of not having the inside of his mouth cut to ribbons by careless hands then the butcher was his best bet. The shapeshifter didn't need the razor that had been provided, Wes had an arsenal of knives as the tips of his finger tips. A knife didn't seem like the best choice for this task, so Wes' right hand morphed into the shape of a short version of a bone saw blade (Just the blade and not the whole saw).
"Hey kid... If I were you I wouldn't move your tongue too much." Wes murmured as he brought his left hand up to cup the mage under the chin lift Logan's head upward, Pinky assisted by holding the mage's head backward by the hair. With the two of them holding Logan's mouth open, Wes had the access he needed to get to the boy's teeth to start the grisly task of cutting away his teeth. His right hand, the saw blade, was slid into Logan's mouth and pressed down on top of the mage's front teeth where a few motions back and forth cut the angles into the first tooth. Small chunks of bone and bone shavings fell away with every motion of the saw and filled male's mouth, he did his best not to cut the inside of Logan's mouth but he couldn't guarantee that the teeth of the saw blade didn't catch some flesh in the process.
An unpleasant situation was a mild way of describing it. Wes was used to cutting up the dead. This was... LavvytheJackalope
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Posted: Tue Sep 05, 2017 1:33 am
At that point, Logan knew that his best option was just to ******** go with it. The pink-headed ghoul seemed less than fazed by his best glare, so all he could do was let him lead him along like some kind of stupid, silent dog. He hated it. Hated everything about it. He was so different from his friend, Marco. Marco was one of the most laid-back dudes Logan had ever known, even though he was a ghoul. He was kind of like one of those big dogs that was happier laying on the porch than growling or chasing anyone. If Logan hadn't seen him step up once when Blake got trashed, he would have thought the ghoul was incapable of violence. But he'd put the stir-crazy jackrabbit right in his place, and when the storm had passed, Marco went right back to being cool as a cucumber. Like nothing had ever happened. Hell, the next day he and Blake were paling around again, same as always. The flash of Marcos temper he'd seen was gone as quickly as it had come. By comparison, the pink-haired inmate seemed like a different animal. Logan didn't like him, and yes, it did have a little bit to do with the way he'd teased him in the mess hall when he'd come back with his eye blackening. The psychic was admittedly petty on the worst of days. He could take a beating, and that was fine. Well, not fine, per se. But it was something that Logan could accept as a sort of trial. An initiation, of sorts. Lots of gangs and street groups did things like that. They beat the s**t out of you, and then you were one of them. You had to be willing, and you had to be able, to endure the tough s**t. Otherwise, you weren't worth your salt (to borrow a saying from his useless piece of s**t uncle). Now, admittedly, the beating that Hale had given him was.... rougher than any smack down he'd ever gotten before, that was for ******** certain. For starters, people normally didn't use a damn baton. And second, outside, people couldn't threaten him with suppressors and guards, so no one dared cross him. After all, he was a psychic. He scrambled brains for fun. In theory, at least. But inside the world was, apparently, a very different ballgame. All of Dales advice couldn't have started to prepare him for it.
So for the moment, he figured that all he could do was what he was told. He trudged after Pinky and only sulked a little when the ghoul elected to ignore him to pester one of the others instead. What was the deal with these weirdos and their freaky colored hair? Pink, green, some weirdo with blue a while back... Logans hair was red, sure, but it grew that way. How did they even maintain it in prison? Wait, were some people born with green hair...? Logan picked at the stitching along the sleeve of his bright orange jumpsuit, thinking quietly to himself and trying not to be bothered by the fact that the ghouls were ignoring him again. Wasn't like he cared. Pfft. But when Hale stepped in, Pinky said 'Oh.' and Logan didn't need to be a psychic to understand the tone of it. Yellow eyes darted up, glancing between Hale and the other dude he dragged in after him. Well. He certainly didn't look like much. Some girly dumbass with long hair, like he was trying to pass as a woman. Maybe he was a queer, or Hales b***h, or both. He sure as hell looked the part. Logan wrinkled his nose at the sight of him, clearly unimpressed even if he couldn't ask him where he'd left his ballgown. What the hell was Pinky acting all dour and serious about? The long-haired inmate was so unthreatening that it was laughable. Maybe he was the one in trouble. Were they gonna make Logan do something to him, to prove that he was tough? Or that he was willing? He'd heard stories about gangs forcing new members to commit some pretty heinous acts in order to join their ranks. Murder, maiming, rape, you name it. The psychic cracked his knuckles in anticipation, certain that he could handle whatever it was the ghouls had in store. Because there was no way in hell that the sissy there was supposed to spell out trouble for him. The thought didn't even cross his mind.
He watched, silent, as Hale tossed something to the other ghoul, whose name he hadn't overheard yet, and tried to act nonchalant and unsurprised when he unwrapped it to reveal a razor, even though his eyes (eye) still widened. Oh s**t. Whatever this was, sissy boy was likely about to get ******** up bad. What were they going to expect him to do? The mystery only seemed to deepen by the moment.
"We have teeth, you know."
"You don't wanna stick your teeth in this."
He tensed when Hale grabbed his arm, immediately more apprehensive. But he didn't have long to wonder before oh, ********, Hales teeth were in him, cutting through the fabric of the jumpsuit and flesh alike like butter.
Oh, what a strange feeling it was. It didn't feel cold, necessarily, but he could feel the venom spread out from the point of the bite. Not even the venom itself, but he felt hos quickly his muscles shut down as the blood carried it through his system. It was a truly terrifying feeling, his body ceasing to respond around him. He went limp as a ragdoll, folding heavily into the grip of the two ghouls holding him up. Wait. What? How was he supposed to do anything if he couldn't mov- oh.
oh no.
Oh no.
HE was the one who was gonna get ******** up.
Immediately his thoughts began to race. Was he wrong? He was certain he'd heard Hales thoughts, specific, he had a plan... the ghouls, the girly boy, the razor... wait, was the plan to eat him after all!? Had they just brought him in so they could divvy him up!? No no that didn't make any sense. Jesus ******** christ, what the ******** were they gonna cut?! His head lolled forward and, unable to move his neck or his eyes, he could only stare at the floor, paralyzed and mute, as they spoke.
"What are we doing to him?" Yeah Hale, what the ******** ARE WE DOING TO HIM!?!? He tried, desperately, to make himself move, but his body had become a prison. He could feel, but no matter what he did, he couldn't force his limbs to move. He was utterly powerless, at the complete mercy of the inmates around him. There was no option to back out, to say 'oh, I'll pass, thanks.' No changing his mind. Would it even matter? He'd never had a choice. He was ******** from the moment he stepped in, wasn't he? Before that baton had ever touched his shins, he'd been ********. s**t s**t s**t.
"This. Making him one of us. And once we’re done, he will be allowed to speak. Who's ready to try first?"
He couldn't lift his head to look, couldn't even shift his eyes to see the motion Hale made, so it was left to the mages imagination what he meant. It did help, if only very, very marginally, that it sounded like they weren't going to kill him. But he was still confused as ********. Hale had already marked him. Was there seriously more?? Was it some kind of extended, ******** up initiation?? He wanted to look up, to glance between them and see if there was something in common, some tattoo or scar or some s**t that they all had, but despite sending the signals, his eyes didn't move.
"Eh, I'll go first. I've cut through plenty of ******** you, what!? The panic had never really abated, but it surged up with renewed vigor at those words. He didn't need ANY of his bones cut!! He liked his bones exactly how they were, thanks!! He didn't recognize the voice, so he could only assume that it was the sissy who was speaking. ******** ********, this was backwards. He wanted to say, do, communicate something, anything. If Logan had been more composed under pressure, he might have realized that he still had use of his telekinesis. But he didn't, and that was likely for the best, given the circumstances. In his panic, he would only have exacerbated the issue. He couldn't even grunt as Pinky pulled his head back, and the sissy put his hand on his chin.
"Hey kid... If I were you I wouldn't move your tongue too much."
> Was that a ******** joke you sonovabitch!? <
He didn't even think about it, gripping the shapeshifter - oh, that's what he was - in a telepathic connection. It was a fear response as much as anything, a person who was falling naturally flailing their arms out to try and grip and something, anything, to catch them. He couldn't move his eyes, so he could only stare straight ahead, up at the ceiling, as his head was tilted at the new angle, and unable to see the shape Wes shifted his hand into. He could only feel something being put into his mouth. The thing about thoughts was, unlike words, you usually couldn't control them much. They came unfiltered, spontaneous, without any call for appearance for decorum. So when he felt something move past his lips, his thoughts immediately jumped to,
> I swear to god if that's someones d**k I'll bite it the fuc off and ********!? <
Oh it was painful-! He could feel the blade pressing, ******** sawing against his tooth!!
> wHAT THE ********!? AUGH, ********, STOP!! STOP STOP IT HURTS IT HURTS ********- <
Wes and Pinky were likely both getting an earful. Or, well, a skullful. Logan couldn't really help it, his panicked telepathic flailing. But the one thing that started running on repeat was
> STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP <
[ S T O P . ]
He hardly realized that he'd actually issued it as a command, to anyone nearby within his radius, a desperate psychic distress signal. But even when he did realize it, he prayed that it would work. They had to, it hurt so ******** much. He could feel the bits of broken tooth against his tongue and gums, taste iron as a vessel was nicked and the mutilated bone started to bleed into his mouth. The pain arced up into his skull, to the space behind his eyes, deep into his entire skeleton. And frankly, his body hadn't exactly been in tip top shape to begin with, already littered with the bruises Hale gave him. Unfortunately, although Logan didn't think of it, everyone in the cell knew that he was a psychic. On top of that, the two holding him could hear - whether they wanted to or not - how he was demanding that they stop, begging even, so the command was likely.... incredibly ineffectual. Anyone who was aware of his manipulation could easily isolate the out of place compulsion or thought. It was the telepathic equivalent of shouting in someones face that you were about to use reverse psychology on them. But he kept sending out the command anyway, desperate.
[ S T O P . ]
#D57632
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Posted: Wed Sep 06, 2017 5:30 pm
”Eh, I’ll go first. I’ve cut through plenty of bones.” Wes moved forward and knelt down over Logan, Hale took notes of Jacob delicately flipping the razor over in his hands. He was examining the thing as though he hadn’t seen the technology before, like a dumbfounded caveman transported to the current century. Wes didn’t let much time pass before the shapeshifter started away at Logan’s teeth. Hale could hear the noise as the rough object was sawed against the first tooth. It was horrible. His muscles went tight as the tension on the back of his neck spread. Cringe. Pure cringe. That’s what the quiet noise below them was.
”Hale?” Cedric was standing near the entrance. The beaten down blond was holding out a few cigarettes. His eyes were red and puffy, his lips looking particularly plump from the stimulation of his turnt out throat. His head dropped when he wanted to wipe away another glob of phlegm that was still lingering in his mouth. He took the opportunity to wipe his eyes while he was at it since they hadn’t calmed down yet from the violent assault. He clearly damn near suffocated to death.
”Good boy.” The ghoul moved over snatching the small objects and tossed them on top the shitty dresser near the corner of his cell. ”Have fun?”
”No.” Cedric slowly slinked past Hale and kicked his shoes off as he quietly crawled into the ghoul’s bed. He curled into a small ball behind Jacob as he hugged his arms around himself shivering to what looked like half-death. Cedric used to be rebellious and loud. Christ did that boy used to have a mouth on him. These days you could see the remains from it. He was never quite giving in completely and had no problem showing his dislike for the situation he was in… But Cedric knew better than to make a scene of it. So his whining was always quick and to the point since he was smart enough to know nobody gave a s**t about the details. That nobody gave a s**t about him. With his back turned to the rest of the people inside of the cell, he flinched slightly when Jacob reached out and started stroking Cedric’s side. A slight reassurance maybe, perhaps comfort, maybe trying to heat him up. Who knew? At the end of the day, Cedric was their pet. Little bits of kindness from different men was common, even if most claimed they would never touch him with a ten foot pole after all the different inmates he had consumed a piece of. Hale’s eyes didn’t leave the suppressed ice mage until he felt a quick movement off to the side as Pinky jumped backwards.
THUMP.
”IN MY HEAD.” Pinky screeched out dropping a boot down on Logan’s face. With the sudden movement, the quiet crack wasn’t exactly quiet as Pinky managed to drop Logan’s head from resting against his leg, to straight for the floor without warning. Of course Wes wasn’t able to see that coming.
”Doing what?” Hale asked with a brow raising in the air as he moved closer to see half of a tooth sitting against Logan’s tongue. ”Flip him over before he starts choking on that.” He nodded towards Pinky, specifically, knowing that he wasn’t going to touch the damn kid. The magnitude Pinky was willing to offer his help was a few gentle kicks to Logan’s shoulder until he was on his side. Hale knelt down beside Wes, glancing at the shapeshifter before his eyes landed on the psychic mage. ”You should be able to spit soon. Can hardly see the damage with all that blood.” Last thing he needed was his psychic mage getting a lung full of blood.
”He’s going off. Screamin’ n s**t.” Pinky pointed towards Logan. ”Should snap his neck now I ain’t even trust the guards to put ‘im in the nut house.”
”I’m pretty sure if he wanted to ******** with you he would have made Wes stab his fingers through your eye socket by now. Just screaming?” Hale asked crossing his arms as he leaned over the mage. He didn’t exactly want anyone to touch the psychic out of fear of Logan turning them against one another. Hale sure as s**t didn’t want to have to pick sides between Wes or Pinky. ”Hold his mouth open again a moment. Let me see his teeth.” Hale stared straight towards Pinky who gave a pure look of hatred before the pink head of hair was ducking down so he could slap his hands around Logan’s cheeks and angel the psychic mage’s face in an uncomfortable position for Hale.
”How ******** is it?” Pinky asked.
”He’ll never pass as a ghoul with those.” Hale glared slightly, then his eyes landed on the tooth that was pure split in two. ”Cut that one out. Useless.” He decided, taking the role of dentist as he nodded in Wes’s direction expecting the shapeshifter to take responsibility for Pinky’s actions. ”Maybe from a distance it’ll be good enough.” Hale tilted his head slightly trying to decide the best course of action. They already committed, there was no way they could stop now. But the teeth were so damn small. They weren’t perfectly smooth or ending in a sharp spike that could easily slip right through someone’s flesh. They didn’t fill out his mouth like a ghoul’s set of teeth. They didn’t look lined up or intimidating. He looked like a knock-off ghoul figurine you’d buy from a dollar shop. Hale was ******** this kid up past repair.
”Won’t most assume he’s a ghoul anyways with a glance at them?” Jacob asked, finally rejoining the conversation as he continued to stroke the ice mage that was violently shaking. The cheap meds Cedric was on made it difficult for the boy to control his powers. They came out in short bursts and manifested in cold chills that violently spread through his body. He couldn’t control his powers to hurt anyone, and he couldn’t control it to stop when it made him cold. Nobody enjoyed being placed on suppressors, but they were especially inconvenient for Ced.
”They better.” Hale responded. ”Can we just melt plastic over his teeth to fill them out more? Anyone got a cheap alternative to teeth that we can add?” His eyes landed on Cedric. ”Maybe pull someone else’s out and paste them on top of his?” Jacob’s head shifted to Cedric a moment then he rolled his eyes giving Hale a judgmental look. ”I have an ink mage in mind who wouldn’t miss his.” Odin would probably thank Hale in the end. Julian would grow accustomed to being the werewolf’s ********. He already seemed to enjoy the role well enough. All Hale needed to do was figure out how Leon fit into this all and he’d have the pack of three worked out and know the best course of action to take. Stealing a few teeth from one of them was already quickly getting pushed up on his ‘To Do’ list.
”So… Logan.” He twisted his body towards Jacob grabbing the razor as he knelt down beside the psychic mage. His fingers gently pressed against the sharp edge, pushing it up against Logan’s adams apple. Right there. ”You can talk to them. Feel free. The second I feel you toying with us, you can say goodbye to that pretty little throat.” The sharp edge was already being pushed past the first few layers of skin. Hell, even if Logan were to flinch or move too harshly once he got some more motion back in his body he’d be at risk of seriously injuring himself. Hopefully the boy was clever enough to know when it was time to ask for another bite. "I like chatting as much as the next guy, but I'm not in the mood for games. We'll save that for later now won't we?"
Christ, Hale was not in the mood to be threatening psychic mages. He could only hope the kid's power was rendered as useless as his body while he was paralyzed. I mean... That had to be it, right? Why else wouldn't he have defended himself when he was being carved to s**t like a thanksgiving turkey? tab
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Posted: Thu Sep 07, 2017 12:29 am
It was awful, no doubt the worst pain that the young mage had ever experienced in his life, bar none. He'd broken his ankle trying to do a backflip when he was a kid, but then the bone had simply snapped. It was quick, clean, and it hurt like s**t. But it was nothing compared to the way he felt laying there, paralyzed, feeling the bones of his teeth being cut, ground down and fractured. Every now and then the blade of the shapeshifters hand would nick his gums, or his lips, adding numerous, small, stinging pains to the overarcing throbbing that reverberated through the middle of his skull with each pass of the blade. The psychics eyes watered, and then overflowed, tears streaming down the sides of his face from frozen eyes. Mostly frozen. By the time the first few of his teeth had been nicked and ground and cut, he was starting to regain some movement. In his eyes, at least. The first thing he wanted to do was to squeeze them shut in pain, but he couldn't quite manage it. Instead his eyes darted, minutely, wherever they could, an instinct reaction trying to find some means of escape, of making the pain end. Hale, watching. The other ghoul, touching some miserable sap curled up. Naturally, there was no recourse except his pitiful telepathic flailing.
Ana apparently, all that managed to do was to freak Pinky the ******** out. If they were on the street, Logan could have laughed about it, mocked the ghoul for being such a pansy-a** scaredy cat. Maybe he would have even given him a tiny telekinetic shove, just for extra comedic effect. But they weren't on the street, and it wasn't funny. Not when Logan was completely paralyzed, unable to catch himself when the ghoul dropped him, letting his head crack into the floor, the short impact reverberating, ringing through his skull, which was already in blistering pain from the awful, endless grinding of his teeth. He could move enough to wince, and draw a sharp intake of breath that had him choking on the dust remnants of his own teeth for half an instant before Pinkys heel was crunching down on his face. It was a good thing that skin contact had been broken, because s**t, if Pinky hadn't liked the way he'd been ranting and raving before, he really would have hated the painful screech that reverberated through his brain then, as much a reeling feeling, a silent auditory expression of the excruciating pain and shock. He saw stars, spots in his vision, and for a moment worried - no, hoped - that he might pass out. It would have been a welcome relief from the agony screaming through his jaw and skull. He still managed to feel the snap, even through the already overwhelming sensations knocking around in his head. His head was taking more damage in one day than it had in his entire life. The tears flowed more rapidly, and he was finally able to squeeze his eyes shut as Hale leaned close to see the damage. It didn't help as much as he felt like it should. He was able to let out a small sound as Pinky kicked him onto his side, half a cough at the blood and fragments of tooth irritating his mouth and throat. It was a weak hack, as the muscles of his throat started trying to respond again, twitching feebly in an attempt to cough. Mostly, it just moved a bit of air past his mangled teeth.
”You should be able to spit soon. Can hardly see the damage with all that blood.”
He could dimly make out the words, and Pinky going on about snapping his neck. As if he hadn't suffered enough, wasn't already in more than enough pain to justify whatever the ******** they were hoping to accomplish. But it was difficult to focus on what any of them were saying. Frankly, it was difficult to focus on anything except trying, desperately, to bring his hands up to try and clasp at his mouth. He managed to twitch them forward some, with a great amount of effort. But not before Pinky was roughly grabbing his face to twist his face upward. Being so much as breathed near hurt, so the rough handling made him wince, drew another small, weak sound of pain and dismay from his throat. the tears hadn't stopped, but it wasn't because he was a pansy or anything! It just-
> ******** hurts-! My teeth, my ******** teeth-! They broke me, broke my ******** jaw, why, why, ********, what did I do-!? <
He wasn't exactly a peach when it came to bruising, but considering that he literally had someone STOMP HIS ******** FACE IN, his already nicked lip was split and bloodied, and there was a nice heel-shaped bruise starting to darken the corner of his mouth and the side of his jaw.
”He’ll never pass as a ghoul with those.”
Pass for a-
> -ghoul...? Thats their ******** cocakmammy plan!? They ******** up my teeth to make me look like a ******** ghoul!? WHY COULDN'T THEY JUST SAY I WAS A HUMAN OR A WIND MAGE OR SOME s**t THESE STUPID RETARDED ********- ******** even thinking hurts-!<
He started regaining more of his movement, bit by bit, flexing his fingers weakly, and trying to turn his face away, out of the painful, awkward angle that Pinky held him in as they talked about more and more useless s**t, like putting plastic on his teeth. Or... other peoples teeth? What the ******** was wrong with these sickos?? Had they watched too many SAW movies or some s**t!?
”So… Logan.”
His eyes opened a little wider as Hale knelt in front of him, and he was finally able to pull his lips together and close his mouth. All he could taste was iron, blood... and then the feeling of metal biting into the soft flesh of his throat. His eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. His body was still trying to cough, or gag on the bits of tooth still in his mouth, but he held his breath, legitimately terrified that if he moved too much, his throat would be split wide open and he'd be left to bleed out. Naturally, that'd be a bit extreme for the ghouls to cover up after all of that effort, but the logistics of the situation weren't exactly at the forefront of the psychics mind at that moment. Weakly, slowly, he dragged one arm back so that he could prop himself up. He'd been keeping his mouth shut, but it was filling up with blood and saliva that the dusty fragments of what used to be his teeth were starting to float in. Reflexively, he started to swallow but, naturally, that made him cough. The blade drew a bead of blood as his throat rocked with it, and finally, wrinkling his nose, he turned his head and spit. A red brown splatter of blood, saliva, and fragments of massacred tooth shards smattered on the hard floor as the mage coughed and choked, trying to lean back and away from the razor pressed against him. The tears had never stopped or slowed, and now they mixed with the blood and drool trailing down as his lips as he finally brought a hand up to gover his mouth, wheezing out,
"H-heef.... hhuckinh.... hy heef....! Kkhh...!"
#D57632
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2017 8:41 am
[ S T O P . ]
There’s an extreme difference between dropping a meat cleaver down against a chopping board to severe a ligament in a slab of beef and grinding a bone saw against the teeth of a breathing person. The corpses, be them animal or humanoid, that were thrown on Wes’ chop block had always been just that; corpses. The ravenette had never had to deal with a live victim (Excluding the few times his pops had him cut the head off a live chicken, but that didn’t hold a match to this scenario) since he was usually the cleanup crew to other people’s crimes, so he wasn’t used to the implications of having a living person under his blade. The Mage was, for most of this encounter, paralyzed and unable to do anything physical to stop Wes from carrying out Hale’s orders. There was no mistaking the mental tendrils attempting to cease the butcher’s actions, commands being pushed against the resistant mind.
[ S T O P . ]
Wes wanted to hesitate further, to cease all action completely. There was an intense desire to pull back his blade and to let Jacob continue with the sharpening of the Psychic’s teeth. It had to be the tears rolling down the mage’s face, or the mental assault of screaming and demands being projected straight into Wes’ mind telling him to stop that made him want to stay his hand. Or perhaps it was guilt? Wes wasn’t sure, but he knew that if felt like he would if he ignored doing what his pops told him to do when he was a child. What a confusing feeling to have in prison of all places. Regardless of how he felt, with Hale looming in the cell Wes wasn’t about to just stop with a job half done and with little more than half of the mage’s mouth done stopping wasn’t an option. Unless Jacob was going to volunteer to step in, which he didn’t. Not that that was surprising.
”Hale?”
The voice of the resident zombified ice mage sounded at the entrance of Hale’s cell in a single word question. Normally Wes paid Cedric no mind, since he was a play thing passed among the masses, but the mage was an important reminder as to why Hale shouldn’t be crossed. The rebellious got broken down to the lowest levels, and even then they had to have some level of usefulness or they would be discarded completely left for the wolves. Cedric was now turned out for Hale’s profit of whatever bargained contraband that could be earned by putting the mage into someone else’s bed so to speak. Wes could easily be repurposed for the same if Hale deemed that the shapeshifter was no longer useful. He focused in on the sound of the grinding of his blade against Logan’s teeth, so the rest of the exchange between Hale and Cedric was lost to him. Wes didn’t need any reminders on how quickly his “nice a**” could be used to please some of those that were biting at the bit every time he walked by; it was a curse of being one of the more feminine inmates. Wes was gay, yes, but no one in this pit was worth his time for any kind of prison relationships. Hell, he hadn’t been one for committed relationships before prison.
Though, as far as sadists go, Hale was a looker. Not that Wes was paying attention to that or anything..
”IN MY HEAD.”
Progress with Logan’s teeth was near complete, Wes needed maybe twenty more seconds to chip off one last piece of a back tooth in the mage’s mouth then they would have been done. That would have been that. Pinky. That stupid dense ********. The pink haired ghoul jumped back unexpectedly, dropping the limp mage from his grasp and immediately slamming the poor kid in the head. What. A. Stupid. ********> Wes didn’t have any warning that Pinky was going to decide to have a freak out moment, so he didn’t have a chance to withdraw his shifted hand from inside the mage’s mouth. The force of the mage’s head falling against the saw blade in his mouth added with force of Pinky’s boot to the head made quick work of splitting one of those now sharpened teeth in two. I’d rip every one of your teeth out… one by one.Dark blue eyes narrowed in a death glare at Pinky, as he pulled his hand back as quickly as he could (but the damage had already been done), shifting it back to its natural shape. Wes wasn’t worried that Logan’s now sharpened teeth did any damage to his hand, since when his limbs were shifted they were more resistant to damage, but that didn’t keep him from flexing his hand.
”Doing what?” Hale questioned Pinky in regards to what Logan had done inside Pinky’s head in order to make the ghoul freak out so dramatically. Pinky’s outburst had been somewhat delayed since their task had nearly been completed, which was certainly a testament to how dense the pink haired male’s level of stupid was. To be honest, Wes wouldn’t have been surprised if the ghoul had been having a full-blown monologue mentally while the shapeshifter worked, and when he paused in talking to himself the psychic’s projections finally reached him. The pinkette didn’t know how to shut up, why would this situation be any different?
Hale didn’t let Pinky answer right away, directing his concerns to the Mage for a few moments. Hale instructed pinky to roll Logan over so he didn’t choke on the buildup of blood and bone shavings in his mouth. A valid concern to have since the teen was still mostly paralyzed from Hale’s bite. After Pinky used his foot to roll the mage over he looked to Hale to answer the previously asked question, ”He’s going off. Screamin’ n s**t.” Pinky pointed towards Logan accusingly. ”Should snap his neck now I ain’t even trust the guards to put ‘im in the nut house.” Pinky was a moron. What the ******** did he think a psychic mage was going to do when he was paralyzed and unable to do anything else to defend himself?
”I’m pretty sure if he wanted to ******** with you he would have made Wes stab his fingers through your eye socket by now. Just screaming?”
It was a damn shame that Wes hadn’t thought of that earlier. It would have been bye-bye Pinky and most likely the mage all in the same move, but that wasn’t the type of person that Wes was. He didn’t just attack people on the drop of the hat without provocation.. though there was a hint of a smile tugging on Wes’ lips at the thought of not having to hear that annoying droning voice anymore. Though the smile quickly vanished when it was confirmed that Pinky ******** up the work that Wes had put in on Logan’s teeth. The shapeshifter was no fool and knew that the mage’s teeth looked nothing like the naturally sharp teeth of a ghoul, there was only so much once can do when removing material away from something rather than building it up. Even though he knew that it wouldn’t look convincing, to have the s**t ******** up even more was irritating, especially after having to experiencing the mental onslaught of the mage crying out in pain.
”Cut that one out. Useless.”
Hale directed the order at Wes, which in and of itself was rather annoying to the shapeshifter, and made his anger smolder even more. Regardless of how irritated he was, he would do as he was told, shifting his hand into a basic pair of pliers to yank the tooth out in one quick motion. With the tooth in his hand Wes took a couple steps back from Hale and the mage so that the leader could interact with his new pawn without interference. Rolling the broken, but still relatively sharp tooth in his hand he looked it over for a moment before he tossed it over to Jacob. It seemed that Wes’ job was done for the time being, and he was perfectly fine with being a bystander with whatever happened next. Let Jacob go up to bat for their boss.
Wes watched as Hale pressed the razor to the mage’s throat and urged him to speak, threats lining his words to drive it home that he wasn’t to be crossed. The shapeshifter would be impressed if the psychic mage had enough balls to do anything rebellious towards Hale in that moment after the multiple greetings he had gotten through the day. Being ballsy wasn’t always, and rarely was in prison, intelligent. Wes felt for the kid, but if he was that special kind of stupid where nothing stuck, then there was nothing that could be done for him. Only time would tell how this particular scenario would play out in the long run if the mage didn’t immediately try to get back at the group for mutilating his teeth. Not surprisingly the first words to come out the mage’s mouth weren’t actual words at all.
"H-heef.... hhuckinh.... hy heef....! Kkhh...!"
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Posted: Thu Sep 14, 2017 11:30 am
Cedric’s eyes found themselves poking out towards Logan. There wasn’t much commotion. There was no fight. Just a boy laying on the ground with the three hovering over him. Hale never showed much emotion. He was a hard guy to read at times… Or maybe that was just Cedric. The ice mage never knew what was sincere and what was fake. Sometimes Cedric even got threats and kindness mixed up when it came to that guy. The blond had never been the sharpest knife in the kitchen, though. Clearly that was the case or he wouldn’t have ended up where he was in his current position. His attention dulled as he shut his eyes again. He wasn’t in the mood to watch anymore ******** snuff scenes for the rest of the month. He just wanted things to be easy for once in his goddamn life.
Jacob watched quietly as Logan whimpered out, starting to make audible pleas of muffled pain. Hale would have to bite him again soon if he didn’t shut the ******** up. Some random inmate walking by was drawn to the attention, immediately looking away when he saw the three ghouls hovering over a body. Prison struggles were complex. You didn’t want to get caught in the wrong place and the wrong time or you were putting yourself in danger. You could only assume what would happen if you waltzed upon an inmate who was having half the face eaten off right in front of you. It was just smart to get the ******** out during situations like this.
Jacob slowly got up from the bed, slipping past Logan and Wes, then stopped near the entrance to Hale’s cell. He leaned against the bars glancing in the direction he expected guards to come. Normally the block whistled and hassled guards as they passed. It was hard to miss them when they came by, yet Jacob knew it never hurt to have a second clear mind waiting patiently for someone who could get them in a shitton of trouble. Hale would flip if someone was tossed into solitary alongside Adam. Really, the goddamn poor psychic mage. They can’t use Adam to speed up the healing process… Not that Hale was very willing to share the damn caim. For some reason Hale was stingy with Adam. Jacob still couldn’t tell if they had a relationship going, or if Hale wanted the caim for a his own needs over the group’s.
His eyes traced their way back to the scene, Hale was threatening Logan to be sure the psychic wouldn’t try anything. He was clearly beating a dead horse at this point. Logan was outnumbered, outsmarted, outskilled. Hell, the only way he could get any type of footing would be to carefully plant small bits of his psychic abilities in someone’s head, Hale’s, that the other ghoul wouldn’t notice. That none of them would notice. Small changes in the man’s behavior that would give him control in the long run. Hale was already paranoid enough to have warned some of them. Jacob already got the run down to look for gaps in the man’s behavior within the next few weeks.
With his free hand, Hale rubbed his fingertips together quietly waiting for Logan to make a move. It would be stupid at this point, of course, for the psychic mage to do anything but cooperate. Stupid was as stupid did, though; and Hale had seen desperate cornered animals make pathetic attempts at breaking free even if it meant gnawing their own arm off. The mage was tiny within Wes and Pinky’s grasp. The ghoul seemed terrified of Logan, Wes looked rather indifferent. The shapeshifter was the type to withdraw someplace far in his head when it came to tasks he didn’t want to be doing. There was probably some little happy place locked deep inside his mind that kept fading farther and farther with each passing day. He mused how long the shapeshifter had left. Which sentence was he? Four years? Hale tried to keep track of so many they always blurred together. The male really needed to write them down and keep track. Hale couldn’t bring himself to waste his time with such trivial tasks. He glanced towards Wes. He seemed like the type that would be good at calculating and tracking things.
The shapeshifter seemed to want a break after he was ripping out the entirety of that ruined tooth. The roots were so deep down, seeing them torn out was playing on repeat in Hale’s head. There was a lot more blood than he expected from the process as a whole. He should have saved it for the vampires. God knows he needed to stay on good terms with them since they had recently recruited more. God knows what s**t they’d be pushing out within the next month or so. Things were going to start to change heavily soon. Hale wasn’t going to let the usual dynamics snap. Not under his watch.
He removed the razor from atop Logan’s adam apple and shoved his fingers past the boy’s lips. He spread his fingers and tilted Logan’s head to get a view at the area he wanted to see. Everything was distorted thanks to the heavy blood flow. The ghoul stood up and moved to the roll of toilet paper he kept against the single small window. It didn’t take long to kneel down next to Logan and rip some pieces off from the roll. He jammed them straight into Logan’s mouth. The small whimpers Logan tried to get out about his teeth went unheard. The ghoul rubbed the toilet paper around in Logan’s mouth trying to mop up what he could. God knew this would turn into such a huge deal. Hale sighed and tossed the bloodied paper to the side. ”Cedric.” He glanced towards the bed. The ice mage’s head shot up slightly as he pulled his attention to Hale. ”Throw those out in your cell.” Hale never liked leaving evidence near him. Some of the guards had it in for him. The ice mage crawled to the side of the bed, bringing the top blanket with him as he reached out and snatched the bloodied paper and dragged it back with him.
”I’ll go after you’re done.” He muttered flopping back into his position. Hale glanced up to see Jacob keeping an eye out. With the other ghoul keeping his post, Hale glanced back at Wes.
”Let’s finish this off then, eh?” Hale sure as s**t wasn’t gonna start hacking away at teeth. Wes had the ability to shape any small tool he needed. Would be ludicrous to have Jacob take over now that he thought of it. He tucked a stack of paper to one side of Logan’s mouth. Firstly, to keep it open, and secondly, so they could easily drag it over to mop up the blood when it got in the way. With Hale next to Wes, they could both work on finishing up this botch operation without too much of a struggle. ”Do you need a break?” He wasn’t asking Logan, of course, but Wes. ”I’ll re-bite him before you start up again so there’s no struggle for the rest. Gotta end it before lights out.”
Or Logan would have to go through this all again tomorrow. tab
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Posted: Tue Sep 26, 2017 10:42 pm
The tips of Wes’ fingers had started to stick together with the drying of the crimson film that coated the pale flesh of his hand. The mage had bled far more than Wes had expected. The butcher had made work of many slabs of meat, but never one with an actively beating heart and wandering mind that screamed in agony with every cut. Sharpening teeth in a cell surrounded by convicts was a far cry from cutting up corpses in a cooler, adorned in an apron. Wes must have sliced into the mage’s inner cheeks, or broke the teeth deep to the nerves causing multiple fountains of blood to spurt. It didn’t matter, it was said and done. Now drops of blood now stained the concrete flooring of the cell, Wes’ hands, the Mage’s mouth and clothes, and wads of toilet paper that Hale used to do a quick clean up with. Blood was familiar to him. The smell alone was enough to send him back to the familiar meat locker of the family butcher shop. To his “happy” place.
”Malik, Do you need a break?”
That familiar voice, caring and warm, cut through the frigid air of the cooler as the owner of it dropped a rack of pork onto the chopping block with a bang. It had been a busy holiday weekend, Christmas or thanksgiving, and the shop had been packed to the brim with people wanting an array of meats for their family gatherings. Pops had been serving customers and operating the front of the store while he allowed Wes to run the cooler and to replenish the stock throughout the day. There had been hours left on the work clock, and the shapeshifter could remember feeling dead on his feet and ready to quit; a feeling that must have been displayed clearly on his face since it spurred Pops to ask such an unprompted question. “No, Pops. I’m alright.” His grandfather worked every day of the year without a break unless he had no other choice, the least Wes could do was finish out the busiest weekend without complaint. Quitting did have an appeal though, since his grandmother would go out of her way to greet him with a cup of something hot for all his hard work.
He could use a cup of hot sake, even if that drink had always earned him a disapproving look from his grandma. Wes wasn’t back home working in the family shop and the blood on his hands hadn’t been from a fattened pig butchered for some Christmas dinner. Wes in prison, in the process of mutilating a dosed mage without the ability to defend himself. Malik wasn’t his name to these people, only his family called the shapeshifter that name. Here he was known as Wes, or more simply, the Butcher. More importantly it wasn’t his Pops that had spoken to him..
”Do you need a break?”
It had been Hale that had addressed him, with what was a loaded question in the shapeshifter’s mind. There was a correct answer, but Wes was positive that it wasn’t the one he wanted to provide. Dark eyes that had been fixated on his blood-stained finger tips drifted up to look at Hale’s face, there was the feeling lingering in his gut that if he searched hard enough he could find the answers of the day hidden between the freckles on the other’s face. There was no such luck in that regard, though Wes was intelligent enough to know that saying he wanted to stop their current activity wasn’t exactly an option. Sure, Wes could technically say he wanted to take a break and finish up the dental job the next day, but the butcher had the distinct feeling that if he did then he would be the one getting fine-tuned instead. The shapeshifter was capable enough at defending himself, but prison was a sketchy place where people got shanked in showers or dropped in a crowded yard without a second look. Hale had many men under him, some of which that Wes wasn’t aware of, the ghoul wouldn’t even have to get his own hands dirty if he didn’t want to. This welcome party was more than a good enough example of that.
”I’ll re-bite him before you start up again so there’s no struggle for the rest. Gotta end it before lights out.”
Tch. Wes’ tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, at first the only sound he made in response to the question. He glanced away from Hale to look around the room to take account of those that were still present. It seemed that Jacob had taken up the guard post outside, allowing him a free pass on today’s activity. Pinky was such a dramatic little ******** that it would be completely idiotic to allow him near the Mage’s teeth when he couldn’t even be trusted to hold the kid up without ******** up. Cedric was pretty much useless in his current state, unless it was turning tricks for smokes or… whatever it was that the suppressed mage managed to due to remain relevant for Hale. Which left Hale and the butcher to finish the job at hand; They had to end it before lights out, after all.
“No. Let’s get this done… Go ahead and re-bite him.”
One bite had to be bad enough, being bitten with that special toxin that Hale could produce had to be a special kind of hell or at least that’s how it sounded. Normally, Wes would have wondered if the toxin numbed any of the pain at all since the victims of the bite were rendered unable to move or react due to paralyses, but there was no need to ask the question in this situation. The mental screaming was more than enough to answer any curiosities Wes might have had about the Ghoul’s bite before, it clearly didn’t dull any of the pain that Wes inflicted. The shapeshifter wasn’t too keen on slicing the inside of the Mage’s mouth any more than he already had, so Wes decided to shift his hand into a different tool altogether. A thin bone file would work to clean up the jagged and broken edges and sharpen the teeth up to a more appealing tip.
Wes had no doubts that this psychic mage would have the butcher on his forever "s**t list". They definitely weren't going to be prison buddies, that was for damn sure.
OOC: Sorry for how long it took to post this up and that it's not the best quality. I don't like being that person with excuses but between Joey's five year memorial/remembrance service, my mom slipping a disc in her back and not being able to move without help, and having to get a new car. I've been everywhere but at my computer.
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Posted: Mon Oct 02, 2017 3:37 am
Logan had actually kind of missed the part where Hale said 'cut that one out.' He'd heard the words, but he had been pretty distracted at the time, by the pain at first and by the blade at his throat soon after. So maybe it was forgivable. Hell, maybe it was even preferable. When the shapeshifter took his jaw and pushed his fingers into his mouth again, he wasn't anticipating the (mercifully quick) grab and tug that pulled his tooth, root and all, out of his gums and jaw completely. It would have been worse to anticipate it, in part because he might have thought 'oh, when we were kids sometimes we'd tie our loose teeth to doorknobs and then slam them to yank it out. It's just like that, isn't it?' Because Logan's specialty.... well, it wasn't being smart. He hadn't really paid any attention in biology or anatomy courses before he flunked out. So it didn't occur to the mage that grown up teeth have roots. Long, vessel-filled roots that sank all the way down into the jaw bone, as any xray would reveal. But that was a fact Logan wouldn't skim over again for the rest of his life. He actually saw the tooth pinched between the shapeshifters weird, morphed fingers before the pain hit him in full. It was strange to see, half of the top broken away (thanks, Pinky) when it had already been filed. So it was considerably more root then anything else. Long, red with blood, and.... oh god. A bit of vessel dangling just at the tip. That was him. That was one of the veins in his mouth, the other end of which had promptly started gushing yet more blood across his tongue. A choking, anguished sound escaped him as he finally brought his hands up enough to clamp them over his mouth. Not shockingly, it didn't help. All it did was put pressure on his massacred teeth, and let blood and saliva seep between his fingers. He had to screw his eyes shut, squeezing them as tight as he could to try and block out the image of the tooth, that dangling vessel, out of his mind, but it was all he could see. All he could feel was the throbbing through his head and his skull and the new, weeping, bloody gap in his teeth. He grunted and gagged, choking on bile at the thought. He felt sick as it rose up his throat, and for an instant, he thought he really would add vomit to the disgusting mix of swill in his mouth. He managed to choke it down, swallowing the bile down to leave his throat burning and his sinuses stinging. It probably saved Logan from expediting a possible infection in his cut up gums. But even with that threat passed, Logan felt nauseated, weak and sick. His whole body was shaking, whether from pain, fear, or as an after effect of the bite wearing off was anyones guess. The puncture marks on his arm didn't even register on the mages pain scale at the moment. Everything was in his head.
He was hunched over on the floor of the cell, shoulders shaking, chest heaving, hands covered in blood and saliva as he clamped them desperately over his mouth, as if that would keep his remaining teeth together, intact.
He would have been glad to feel the pressure relieved from his throat, had he realized that it had been moved just before he brought his hands up. But they were immediately shoved out of the way again as Hale shoved his fingers into Logans mouth next, drawing a pained whine out of the boys chest. Every time Hales fingers so much as brushed a tooth it sent screaming pain screeching through his skull, like driving rusty nails up into the bloody sockets of the roots of his teeth. It was easier, less painful to just open his mouth, move as he was silently directed than to offer any minute resistance. It was more coercion of pain and instinct than any conscious decision on Logans part. It didn't last long before the ghoul stood, and Logan hung his head again, gagging and coughing, spitting again to try and get some of the blood and fragments out of his mouth. ********, it hurt, it hurt, it made his entire skeleton hurt-! It was only moments before Hale was in front of him, fingers in his mouth again - if anyone after today ever put any body part near his mouth again he was gonna bite it off - but this tine there was a wad of tissue paper being shoved in as well. It was a poor attempt at blotting, but it was better than nothing. The cheap prison issue paper practically disintegrated as soon as it soaked up the blood, so that bits of it were left sticking all to the insides of Logans cheeks and his gums.
“No. Let’s get this done… Go ahead and re-bite him.”
Logans eyes bulged at that. More!? They were gonna do more!??
"Ngho-!" He flailed his arm, pushing his feet against the floor to try and scoot back, away from the inmates hunching over him, away from the ******** shapeshifter and his ******** edward scissorhands bullshit, away from Hale and his retarded-a** plans to make people think he was a ghoul for whatever goddamn reason, bringing up a hand to his bloodied mouth and jaw. "Hek back-! Nho more-!" In a manner very similar to a trapped animal, he kicked a leg out, trying in vain to force some space between himself and the other men. Naturally, even if he'd miraculously knocked one unconscious by sheer cosmic accident, he'd still be sorely outnumbered and with nowhere to go. But logic wasn't exactly at the forefront of his mind. The mages panicked psyche was only screaming at him to escape, by any means necessary.
#D57632
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Posted: Tue Oct 03, 2017 9:55 am
Content. He didn’t feel very strongly as he sat there with bloodied fingers, some small smudges reaching down to his wrists. Mutilating Logan was nothing more than a simple object taken off his ’to do’ list, a list Hale never managed to empty since errands got put on that thing faster than the speed of light. Dealing with the vampires, dealing with the werewolf, altering Logan so nobody would be able to connect the dots back to him. The first step to Logan’s transformation might have been took off the list, but now the rest of the steps needed to be addressed.
What happened when someone realized they were being manipulated and knew it was someone in Hale’s group? It would be obvious who the ghouls were. It would be obvious who Cedric was. Hell, the whole prison already knew why they called Wes The Butcher. It was too simple to pinpoint exactly who was manipulating them. Of course it would be Logan if Hale didn’t erase the possibility of psychic mage to the general population as quickly as possible.
It wouldn’t be hard to train Logan to have some impact after biting someone. A psychic mage could make someone feel abnormal after biting down on someone’s arm. Hale would have to help pick out a poison for the mage, then work on ways to use his abilities in ways that nobody would ever be able to pinpoint. Increase people’s stress levels, nightmares, the smallest hallucinations. Hale could never just control someone’s body against their will. He could never brainwash someone into doing his bidding. He needed to slowly manipulate people and push them into his direction. There was so much he had to do and such little time.
Hale nodded towards Jason, who got up from the bed and shrugged his shoulders. ”Could have gone for food first.” He states as he walks for the entrance to the cell and slips out. No s**t. Logan clearly won’t want to be eating anything, it would become marinated in his blood. The ghoul came back just moments later holding some cans of soup and snacks from commissary He rolled the cans of tomato soup towards the psychic mage, then posted back on his bed in front of Cedric.
”Welcome to the club.” Hale finally spoke towards Logan, who surely was still feeling the effects from two shots of paralyzer. ”If you ever need anything, you’ll come to me.” He told the kid, making sure everyone in the cell knew the worst was done and over with. ”In return when I need something, you’ll be there for me.” Hale’s voice dropped slightly, pinning the words harshly to make sure Logan knew what agreement he was a part of now. There was no choice, ultimately there was no freedom. Hale was the leader. He owned the prison. He was the warden within the general population. Logan needed to understand he wanted to be under Hale’s wing. He wanted to be one with the ghouls. As long as he behaved he would have a smooth sentence and get whatever he wanted.
Logan needed to understand how lucky he was.
The ghoul moved over to his bed, plopping down near the foot since Jason and Cedric were taking up the upper half. ”You can talk whenever you feel like it.” He mentioned with the flick of his hand. Since he had forgotten to give Logan permission for that again. The kid would have silently stared at everyone the rest of his sentence if Hale forgot to allow that again. ”Jason grab a shirt from that storage.” The one pushed underneath the bed near Hale’s feet. Jason reached underneath the bed and took hold of the edge of the box. He pulled one side from the top off and tossed one of the cheap undershirts from commissary. ”You can bleed into that.” Hale told the psychic as Jason tossed it towards the redhead.
”... And don’t be flashing those teeth around too much. They don’t look realistic enough.” If inmates just got a glance here and there, it should be fine. It’s not like Logan would be walking around with his mouth gaping for everyone to see.
Pinky was staring at Logan, clearly mesmerized by the blood dripping from his face. “Ya know I could use some blood bags from the vamp kids.” He glanced over at Hale begging if they could rent one for the day tomorrow.
”No.” Hale responded quickly.
”Aw why not?”
”I told you we aren’t doing business with the vampires unless it’s an emergency. We’re enemies.” He gave a stern look in Pinky’s direction who ended up laughing. Hale rolled his eyes, a small smirk spreading across his face too as though the two of them were speaking in their own language. ”You’re a sick ********> Hale muttered, of course, the two silently exchanging expressions about the thought of Pinky trying to lap up Logan’s blood straight from his mouth. Hale knew. He knew exactly what Pinky was thinking they all properly were deep down. But they had class. He tried to make most of them have some goddamn class. When they needed it he found them enough meat to eat. It was one of the main reasons he could gain followers so easily. Once you find the proper way to distribute goods people want, they come flocking to you like sheep.
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Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2017 6:55 pm
For as long as Wes could remember it had always been taught to him by his grandfather that when an animal was forced into a corner that it had only two options. Fight or flight. It was because of that reasoning that animals lined up for slaughter took one quick shot to the skull to kill them before they realized what was happening; that they were trapped. Personally, Wes had never thought about it before since the meat they butchered in the shop arrived dead in the back of an ice box trailer, but it was times like this that he found himself dwelling back on it. Were there other options than just fight or flight?
Submission had to be the unspoken option. Not all animals were killed or scared off, there were those that had been domesticated and tamed to work as companions or tools of the trade. Horses, dogs, cats, pigs... Or people. Hale made for one hell of a convict "rancher", if one were to look at it that way, seeing as how he had a jail cell full of domesticated inmates ready to answer his beck and call. Ghouls, mages, caims, and shapeshifters; Race didn't mean anything to Hale, except perhaps how useful you were and where you could be used. Hale took them all, molded them like putty in his hand into whatever tool that kept Hale from getting his own hands dirty. Wes could feel his fingers stick together with the mage's blood that were painted on his own palms, being a tool was dirty work and Wes would be lucky if he made it through his prison sentence without something going wrong. The shapeshifter had a feeling that Hale would go out of his way to make sure that two years were multiplied to twenty to life.
"Hek back-! Nho more-!"
This psychic mage was trying his best to fight, despite the neurotoxin that was poured into his veins from Hale's bite. A few stumbling attempts at kicks and punches, or the drugged-up flailing version, to put some distance between himself and the rest of the population within the cell. A futile attempt at fighting the inevitable, Logan was outnumbered and easily out powered by Hale and company. It was the mage's first welcoming party, but it wasn't Hale's, not by a long shot. This was just the beginning to a beautifully tragic alliance created with blood, tears, and fear. Hale was in charge and the rest were just his pawns, there was no reason to try and deny that.
"Welcome to the club." "If you ever need anything, you'll come to me." "In return when I need something, you'll be there for me."
Wes was leaning against the bars of the cell, watching Hale's interaction with the new Kid, he had learned along the line that you didn't get to leave until you were dismissed. Since he and the other's hadn't been dismissed yet, Wes had to watch and listen to the act that Hale was putting on for the mage. The act that they were one big ole dysfunctional family that got along and did favors for one another out of the goodness of their hearts. Maybe it wasn't an act. Maybe Hale really did feel like he was the one helping everyone else, and that him doing that simple little favor earned undying loyalty. Of course, ignoring the fact that this happy little family just beat the daylights out of Logan, held him down, and mutilated his mouth beyond repair. It was honestly difficult to tell if Hale was acting, delusional, or just psychotic, and even with all his observing he still couldn't tell.
One thing was for certain though,Hale always made his point ring out crystal clear. This mage knew exactly who he didn't get to ******** with in this prison. if he didn't get that message then he was one daft b*****d. The kid hadn't even got the chance to get on someone's bad side on his own before stepping into a steaming pile of s**t simply by existing. Going out of his way to piss Hale off would only make the lesson learned worse by a ten-fold.
Lights out were approaching quickly, even with a look out at the cell entrance having this many people in one cell, blood on the ground, and one of them bleeding from the mouth was certainly a good way to get them all shots and then some. If this particular scene played out like the event in the yard earlier that day, then it wouldn't be Hale who was being toted off to isolation. If they were lucky then maybe it would have been Pinky that got in trouble this time, so they would all get a break from his idiocy. That was probably too much to for Wes to hope for.
“Ya know I could use some blood bags from the vamp kids.”
See, comments like that were exactly why Pinky should have been the one to get thrown head first into brick wall. Wes wasn't extremely well versed in prison politics, knowing just enough to stay alive, but he knew that you didn't just ******** with the vampires; or literally ******** vampires or their servants..
"He'd ******** anything..." Wes muttered out, perhaps it was hypocritical since he was notorious for being "easy" before he was arrested, but even Wes wasn't going around having sex with anyone and everyone. Even if he looked like the most "feminine f*****t" to put on a prison jumpsuit, the shapeshifter wasn't going to trade some bloody rags for some d**k. Even if at this point in his sentence he was really starting to feel the effects of the longest dry spell in his sexual history.
Maybe Wes was jealous that he had standards and clearly most of the others didn't? Maybe he was fooling himself into thinking that some shady one night stand at a bar was in any way better than ******** in the run down prison bathrooms?
OOC: Sorry its a blah post, I'm not sure where you're wanting the direction to go or what's going to happen next. So if you need me to add anything to the end to move it forward just message me and I'll edit it.?
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