&HUNGER OF THE PINE │CREATED BY LYRCA │· Saxon City Prison Facilities. │· Cafeteria. │· Closed Thread. │· Lyrics Credit. │· Anders Loveland and members from the prison's ghoul-dominated gang.
Hale was tying his laces, the strands tethering the tongue of his boots together tightly. The man's favorite time of day was coming up: Food. It was one of the few things you had to look forwards to after being trapped in such a terrible place for so long. The ghoul had a small itch growing in the back of his skull the past few days anyways. He had been waiting for Cedric to stop looking like a walking corpse, but they never let the boy heal up completely before going at him again. It was difficult. The few people his gang claimed as possessions weren't typically in prison long since the weak ones rarely committed worst crimes. They made for entertainment, sure, but many of them were up and out of there before you knew it. Toys were always coming and going. It just made sense they had to pay their dues while they were in. Hale was making decent citizens out of the hooligans. Once they left, they'd never think about breaking the law again risking ending up in a place like this. Society should be thanking them for what they did. The ghoul looked up when his cellmate woke from his nap, quickly getting off the bed glaring towards Hale. He almost looked annoyed. How cute.
"Forget who you are again?" Hale asked, slowly moving towards the caim. "Put that stupid look on your face, shut up, and follow my lead. I remember who you are." Adam needed the guidance after all. They'd been cellmates for over a year now. The caim healed Hale multiple times a week majority of the time. Since Adam was self-taught after Hale forced him to start using his abilities, he acted like a sponge. Adam tired quickly, his healing damn well hurt to receive, and he absorbed enough memories and emotions from the patient that he forgot who he was half the time. If Hale weren't there to keep the male on track, Adam would probably waltz around calling himself Hale. Adam was just another person who owed Hale. Without the ghoul there to keep Adam's head on straight, he'd have lost his mind by now. "Help me find Cedric once we move to the cafeteria. I'm eating him if he can handle it or not." Hale placed a hand on Adam's shoulder as he moved towards the entrance, gesturing for the caim to follow him.
After the guards ran through for their pre-meal count: Adam, the little duckling he was, quickly followed after Hale. The ghoul moved confidently hearing the pitter-patter of Adam's feet behind him. When he entered the cafeteria his allies got caught into his orbit of gravity, quickly collapsing closer to him. Some that had arrived sooner already received their meals and were clumping near their usual table. Hale had grown fairly accustomed to the high school tradition. Tables for each clique. It was nice when you were part of the popular crowd. Hale and Adam gathered their meals (getting an extra piece of bread since he helped one of the vampires who worked in the kitchen) then went to his usual seat. Hale was perfectly fine with his cheap throne as he took a bite of the first roll on his tray. "Ohhhh Cedric," Hale hummed, singing the young boy's name through his teeth as his eyes locked onto the bruised mess. "Why don't you sit next to me today?"
Everything hurt. But that was nothing new. Over the course of Cedric's three months so far, he'd been exposed to so much sex that it was familiar in such a short time span. He used to fight it. Used to try to keep some sense of dignity but there was no point when your throat would be squeezed so tight and your mouth would be covered. On the bright side his tears had been ******** out of him recently. It used to be a nightly occurrence, but, the longer the abuse continued Cedric was too tired and sore to even bother trying to cry. One of them had popped open his throat recently anyways. They'd jammed their finger too deep down his throat and he felt a huge pop between his ears and he just engulfed the whole length of the finger. It wasn't until after when he'd started spitting out blood that they realized it's possible to tear someone's throat open as though it were... Well, not that it mattered. They just went from one side of him to the other until his throat healed back up enough. Cedric hadn't been eating much since the pain was too much. Scabbed and bruised esophagus. Who'd have thought this would be his life after high school? When Hale told him to move seats, Cedric immediately stood up and went where he was told. Hale liked to talk about how he might let Adam heal him up soon if he was good for long enough. "I'm here." He whispered quietly moving his arm out. Hale didn't hesitate resting his head on the table, so his face was angled away from the guards as he bit down hard on Cedric's forearm.
s**t s**t s**t s**t s**t. He could feel his skin being torn away as Hale dug his teeth down beneath Cedric's flesh and then started to peel away a couple layers. When hale moved away he was chewing on the piece of flesh he tore from Cedric's arm. "Augh." He muttered gently, the air pressing against his scabbed throat. It hurt. ********. Everything hurt. Cedric lifted his head to try and listen to some of the chitter chatter going across the table. It would help distract him from the pain.
"No he smuggled a whole Game Boy in."
"Bullshit. ********. It ain't work like that."
"Oh please."
Cedric glanced at his arm to see Hale was putting a piece of bread against his new injury to soak up some of the blood. Hale did s**t like that. He just ate people. Used them as toppings. Cedric rested his head down trying to focus on breathing without causing too much pain, and some idiot yanked his tray away. "He ain't gonna eat again might as well split it." Cedric lifted his head slightly to see the lot picking at his tray like the vultures they were. "Yo soak mine next." And someone was tossing their roll at Cedric's face, expecting him to bleed out all over their food. Cedric didn't have many options. They always said he could either help keep them tame by giving up his blood whenever they wanted, or he could let them go hungry and have him risk how they'd behave with him then. Not much of an option, if you asked him.
"Hey let me join that pool for the new wolfie." Cedric shifted his gaze towards one of the ghouls who nodded across the cafeteria at that werewolf they were speaking about before. He was threatening to pound some fae's face in and a guard was running over to stop the werewolf. Cedric almost felt bad for the two the werewolf claimed. He seemed to have no sense of humanity left in him. After he beat someone Hale mentioned something about adding him to their group and that thought scared the s**t out of Cedric. Hale thought he'd be able to train him or something to be a "good dog", but the bruised kid knew better. Everyone took out aggression on him. Cedric didn't really follow all of it. Half the time he was so faint he could hardly think straight. He didn't know what Hale was trying to do. But that werewolf would end up killing him if Hale was stupid enough to let the guy join them.
"Which you betting on?"
"I'll give him less than a month before he gets time added to his sentence for doing something ******** stupid. In fact, I bet he'll kill one of his little friends over there before the next full moon. That one's already broke bones I heard. Twice."
"Haaaa." And things got quiet a moment when Hale placed a finger up.
"I want in on that pool too." The ghoul spoke. "I think he'll make it two months without getting in trouble." A smile curved on Hale's lips as he pulled a small piece of paper with one word written on it: Treat? "I'll make sure of it."
Ten. Ten more months. Only ten short months until Anders could finally leave this miserable s**t hole. Ten more months. He had to keep reminding himself that. Every Time his cellmate tried to bully him into giving him whatever it was he happened to be short of. Every time the guards called him something demeaning or rushed him from one place or another when Anders would have rather stayed. Just...ten more months. A long, drawn out sigh fell out of the man's lips before he slowly stood up off of his cot. Being thrown in prison after a failed weapons heist was not Anders’s proudest moment. In Fact, it was humiliating. Years of lifting all sorts of s**t, and only once before getting in some sort of legal trouble, had left him with a swollen ego. At least the last 3 years and 2 months had done a good job beating it back down to a slightly more reasonable size. After all, day after day of the same shitty routine, inside the same shitty, cold, and unforgiving walls was mind numbing. No drugs to pass the time, and worse of all, there was nowhere to run when one of his brothers would call. Sending a guard to go make sure he accepted the phone when it happened. And it happened at least once a week. Which was once a week to often. “Anders! I’ve got great news!”
“You have cancer?”
“Ah ha! ******** you too bro. No! I’m going to be a father!”
A long pause, as Anders switched the phone, from one ear to another.
“Wow, congrats. You ******** without a condom.” His tone was as expressionless as his face. Anders really couldn’t care less about his family. Especially Aaron. The p***k acts like his college degree erases the fact that he was also just a low-life urchin, stealing goods to help pay bills. As if he wasn't just one ******** up away from getting tossed into a s**t hole like this himself. Of course, Aaron was only trying to keep his broken family together. But that was easier said than done when one of them insisted that it was never going to happen.
“You’re a bit shocked, I know...Haha. Being an uncle is big news.” Aaron, the second youngest of the Lovelands. Born right before Anders was. And the most patient and kind by far, only chuckled at his little brothers response. This was typical of his only little brother. All you could do was ignore his attitude and constant insults. The conversation continued on for a bit, before Aaron grew eventually grew tired of Anders sarcastic responses. The call ended as it always did. “Well, I gotta go. Look… I know you’ve got deep ties with your gangs and whatnot. But when you're out, don’t hesitate to come stay with me, we’ll get you out of thi---”
“The hell are you up to now?” Anders chuckled finally, raising an eyebrow curiously. He felt brave enough at this point to occasionally bother Hale with these types of questions. Obviously, if the werewolf had to stay here to long, he’d be useless to Anders. So knowing what was up could only help the metamorphose intervene if needed. Anders did have his own future to think about. Seeing as his prison days were numbered...Hale might have helped him cope with prison life, find a place that wasn’t being someone's b***h. But Anders wouldn’t think twice about double crossing the guy if it benefited his own needs.
"No ******** way. You can't control a werewolf. They're nothing like us. Didn't Hotts try it and that's the whole reason his face got split open?" The ghoul who gave Cedric his roll reached out, his fingers flopping about as he gave the universal gimme-gimme motion. Then he was happily eating his newly seasoned blood-bread. Cedric was looking faint, his head seemed to bob from side to side as he glanced down at his bloodied forearm. Hale couldn't have him bleed to death. So he nodded to Adam, who was just on the other side of the boy. The caim glanced towards the guards then gently shook his head. He didn't want to get caught using his abilities. That was the worst thing you could possibly do. If you were caught using any powers or abilities that came with your race, you had an enormous amount of time added to your sentence. On top of that, magical races like Adam would be force-fed heavy cheap medications that made it nearly impossible to access their abilities. Some people said it was a form of torture. Adam already finished half his sentence. He didn't want to get in trouble. Why would Hale have him do it in a public place like this?
"The hell are you up to now?" Ander's voice hit Hale, but he was too absorbed with Adam telling him no. That's not an acceptable answer.
"What was that, Adam?" Hale asked. He leaned forward to make eye contact with the caim who stared right back. He didn't break the eye contact until after he was grabbing for Cedric's wrist. He yanked the kid's wound closer to him under the table and glanced around the cafeteria trying to make sure it was hidden. A small burst of light shot through Adam's vein and crashed out from the tip of his finger, bashing against the boy's skin. Each small tug of magic Adam sent towards the flesh caused it to get pulled harshly outwards. A layer of skin getting stretched and distorted as it made it's way over the small missing chunk of flesh. Cedric was letting out small pants each time his skin was tugged at. It hurt. But then it ended, a shallow welt visible where the injury took place. Now he wasn't bleeding anymore. So Hale's attention finally went back to the others. "Oh, this?" Hale asked slowly slipping the piece of paper closer to Anders. He stopped once the paper was slid close enough to the snake for the male to grab easily.
"Don't you know how dogs work? You teach them tricks and reward them with treats. It's conditioning." Hale seemed perfectly content with the idea of owning people. After all, before prison he was in the business of ruining lives. Of turning people into property. Hale learned how to corner people. How to manipulate and twist their options so he could get what he wanted. Being a ghoul, the male learned at a young age how to control people who couldn't control themselves. If you could control their sanity better than they could, you became the most important thing in their lives. Hale was confident he'd be able to teach a werewolf like Odin how to always come crawling back to him in the end. "We could use a pet after all, isn't that right?" Hale took a moment glancing around the cafeteria. His gaze shifted from person to person as he tried to find a good candidate. The last advesper he had running with them had been released. Hale enjoyed having one because of how easy it was to pass messages and goods. An advesper's familiar couldn't be seen until you made skin contact with it. That meant guards couldn't see an advesper's familiar freely roaming around the prison. As long as they made sure their familiars were smart about it, they had the most freedom out of everyone in the place.
Hale was going to make Anders deliver the message. He wanted a part of it, then fine, he would. Hale wasn't ready to let the werewolf know who they were, but he was ready to start teaching the wolf that there were people within the prison walls who could save him. "Hotts still has an advesper running with them, don't they?" He nodded towards Hotts' half of a table where a small group was happily chatting and eating lunch with one another. "Why don't you ask them to play delivery boy for us?"
Adam was having a bad day. He woke with terrible memories from the two murders he'd committed, but it didn't match up with his memories of his judge giving him a sentence. In one he was a hardened criminal, in the other he was a non-violent offender. Hale picked up immediately that Adam was having trouble sorting through his head so he was herded to the cafeteria. Which sentence did Adam have in reality? Which one did he want? Some piece of him loved prison. It was home. He'd been here for years and had enough power that he wasn't in the slightest amount of danger. At the same time, he just had enough and wanted to go back home. Whichever home it was... Adam could remember three families. In one he had a pack of brothers. They'd run to a local shop after school and hated their parents. Another one he was an only child and had a hard working single mother. Another he had memories of his sister. By the time he got to their table he was placing his food in front of himself rubbing his forehead in frustrated motions, shifting over a seat when Hale called for Cedric. The sister couldn't be his. Adam didn't have that many memories about her even though he felt like he loved her dearly. He could rule that out as fake. It was hard to rule out all the brothers though. The memories of hanging with his siblings in alleyways blasting noisy hip hop as they smoked joints and shared joked they'd heard from school... They competed hard with all the memories of car ride with his mother.
"Mn..." He glanced up when some of his prison family began joking about the new werewolf. Adam glanced towards the strawberry blond across the cafeteria. He was just releasing the fairy he kept with him. He wanted the werewolf with them. Badly. That, or Adam wanted Odin to go free. One of the few who could just make it through a prison sentence without their lives turning to hell. "Which did I bet?" Adam asked. It was stupid. There was no reason to be gambling when it was easy for anyone to turn around and tell him he's wrong. The male didn't live in reality and it wasn't difficult for people to pick up on. Hale didn't seem to care. He was gesturing for Adam to stop Cedric from bleeding out. He tilted his head slightly as he glanced around at the guards and shook his head. Too bad a location for it.
"What was that, Adam?" Annndd... He was ********. Adam tried to be quick. He summoned up the magic he needed, flooding it out from his arm. He was torn back in time.
Adam placed his head down, Hale ripping off a chunk of his arm so he didn't have to get in trouble again. He didn't want it to be like the last time... Awkwardly staring down at the hands squeezing down on his waist to keep him in the awkward position pressed up against the corner of some hallway. His insides felt like there were needles being thrust into him. There was something seriously wrong with his internals. It hurt so bad he thought he might have a stroke. His mouth was awkwardly locked open unable to make a sound. The raw skin inside his throat wouldn't let him. So he half-stood against the wall as he just stared wide eyed almost positive he was about to die. For ********. They had access to Adam's most delicate pieces. If he didn't listen and give Hale what he wanted they'd do something terrible to him.
Reality came back hard, hitting Adam like a ton of bricks. He was sitting there like an idiot with his hand reaching for his stomach, a hurt expression on his face as he tried to stomach the needles that were tearing his insides open... but his insides weren't being torn open. He was at the cafeteria. He slowly removed his hand as he realized the pain didn't exist, then the memories slowly planted themselves inside his head, they'd probably seed themselves in his long term memory by the time he woke tomorrow. Cedric's experience stolen, forced inside Adam's head to haunt him for the rest of his life. Without the proper training or psychological coping skills, he'll never be able to realize it wasn't him inside his own memory.
The caim went quiet, which was nothing abnormal for him as he tried to absorb what was happening around him. Hale was demanding Anders go approach Hotts' advesper to deliver some message. Adam sat quietly, even though he had memories of the man. Why? Because ******** knows if they're his memories or not. It's all Adam ever struggled with. Quietly trying to sort through his head until he gave up and refused to believe in anything he knew. "Don't comment on his busted face." Was the only advice Adam had for Anders.
Watching Adam go to work was always an interesting sight to behold. Even if all the magic was happening under the table, out of sight. Anders didn’t bother trying to duck down and take a look. He didn’t want to make it obvious and draw attention to the table, that would be just as bad as straight up snitching in his opinion. So he only patiently watched the expressions of the dopey looking caim, and Cedric who still looked sick and on the brink of death. It was fine that his question had been initially ignored. He wasn’t that eager about finding out. But then again, this place kind of made him less eager about a lot of s**t. But, also there was just a lot going on between Adam and Caim, and it was hard not to look away. His gaze studied Adam as he finished his work, who then immediately started acting like someone had punched him in the gut with a rusty fork. Anders gritted his teeth, it was so hard not to reach out and slap the guy in an effort to snap him out of it. He didn’t really understand what went with being a Caim, or that Adam was slowly losing it with each person he healed. But Anders didn’t care...so it didn’t matter. Not to him. Anders hated that stupid look on the other guys face as he eventually came to. Or maybe he was still lost in some sort of lalaland. Trying to figure Adam out took more patience than Anders had. At least Cedric was no longer leaking blood everywhere. Maybe now the ghouls at the table would calm down a bit now that the all you could eat buffet was over.
Eyes darting back to Hale as his noted slipped closer to himself. A moment of relief as he got to stop thinking about it. Telling him, that essentially his plan was to subconsciously train Odin like a literal dog. So that in time he’d have the werewolf on a leash. “...Right.” Anders grumbled as Hale asked about having a new pet. Didn’t he have enough? Anders immediately realized that that was a stupid question, Hale couldn’t possibly have enough people under his control to satisfy him. Never. Not that it mattered. If things went well for him, Odin wouldn’t join Hale’s collection. The Metamorphoses grabbed the paper and studied it for a moment. As Hale told him in the sort of condescending way he often did, to go find them a delivery advesper to help them out. Sometimes he wanted to tell Hale to go ******** himself and leave him alone. Being told what to do was fine, but goddamn the other’s way of speaking irritated him. Not that’d he really say anything about it. His plan was just to grin and bear it until he was out of here after all...But in this case, he was more than happy to leave the table. He’d rather be anywhere than with Hale and his living party dip. And he had to remind himself, he did want this. To try and get closer to the strawberry blond werewolf. Standing up slowly, keeping the paper folded in his grip. “Sure thing...Boss”He replied with a relieved sort of sigh.
"Don't comment on his busted face."
Anders glanced over at tweedle-dum. Raising an eyebrow a bit. Actually, that was probably not the worse advice he had ever received. He had heard that the werewolf had really done a number on Hotts, after he tried to ******** with him. But he never actually interacted with this Hotts guy before. So who knew how bad it actually was. Yet, Here Anders had just watched as the group soaked their meals in the blood of some pathetic lackey. So in comparison, how bad could it actually be? With an abrupt chuckle, Anders responded. “I’ll try not to.” he then gave the other a snarky looking grin and nodded slightly before he spun on his heels, and headed on over to his new destination.
It wasn’t a long walk at all, just down the same table. But still the guard's eyes followed him every step of the way. Every stray prisoner was something to be weary of. Which was ironic considering there was a lot more to worry about when they were huddled quietly at their tables. Seemingly eating with no arguments or fights. But perhaps this was on purpose. The guards most likely didn’t want to create more work for them than they had to. Once he reached the other side of the table, Anders sharply tapped the shoulder of a guy who happened to be sat down next to his target. “Move” He hissed quietly, showing off a bit of his fangs for the sake of giving him an edge of intimidation. And it was that intimidation that either got Anders what he wanted, or a good ol’ fight. Depending on the balls of his victim. Luckily, the prisoner wasn’t up for no fight. Because he reluctantly got up and moved to go stand between his other friends. Good. Anders sat down, making himself comfortable before turning to the guy he believed to be hots. Unless there were two guys at this table with battered faces here. It had to be.
“Hey, Hotts is it?” He shifted in his seat a bit, offering his cold-blooded hand for a shake. If the other would have it. “....It’s Anders, surprised he haven't chatted before.” He grinned widely, feeling a bit corny for having to act so nice. He figured tough, that he should play it nice for now. Rather than get on Hotts’ bad side for no reason.
Hotts had become a person of interest since inmate Cypress had tried to re-create his face into some type of abstract piece of art. While Odin got a lot of eyes on himself, it's not often you get to say you got into an altercation with a bloodthirsty werewolf and made it out alive. Getting in fights just gave you more street credit prison credit regardless so it had it's positive effects on Hotts as well. A vampire had even given him a fist-bump the other day when he was walking by. Originally, he'd shifted his broken nose back in place to try and make it look normal but using his shapeshifting abilities as aesthetic reasons wasn't all too smart. The broken bones caused the man a lot of pain. He got constant headaches and it made him extremely irritated. Trapped inside of a prison, it's not like he had anyone he needed to impress to begin with (not that he was all that attractive to begin with). So he allowed his bones to lay naturally how they wanted resulting in a nose that was crooked and had a fresh new bump from a location where the bone wasn't lined up properly. Once it healed up he would try to shift it back in place to satisfy that troubled piece of himself that was bothered by his broken face.
Lunch time couldn't come fast enough for the male who worked within the janitorial department. Scrubbing s**t and blood from the prison floors was one of those jobs that was repetitive and painfully mind numbing.
"Hey Faulkner." Hotts sat down next to the young elf as usual. That had quite a group of young kids with them lately. There has been an increase since police have been going through a small war on drug phase outside of the walls when Ghost had been infiltrated. A lot of those young men were getting out soon. "Hey." The elf replied, shifting his food from side to side with his spork. Hotts glanced at his own food knowing that he wasn't excited either when it came to the meal of the day. "Cheer up. Don't let it get ya down." Hotts said pushing a fist against the elf's shoulder. Faulkner sighed and nodded. "I'm fine, really. Sorry. Girlfriend broke up with me yesterday. Ugh." Hotts shook his head. "That's too bad, but don't worry. You'll find better once you're out." Since Faulkner clearly wasn't gonna be locked in for life. His sentence was on the shorter side compared to most people. Hotts envied the people who would still be able to have lives once they left their cages.
"Move." The voice hovered just over Faulkner's shoulder. His eyes went wide as the elf turned his gaze to meet with Anders. Slicked back hair, tattoo visible on the hand ready to reach out as he sat at the table. Faulkner was quick to move over, immediately chatting up with another small group to the side as Hotts and Anders had their privacy... Or, however much privacy one could have inside prison. "Hey, Hotts is it?" The male asked.
"The one and only." The male allowed a deep tone to thunder from his stomach. This was one of the ghouls. They were the worst in this place. Hotts wasn't going to allow them to prey on his men. A quiet crack rippled across the table as Hotts gently placed his hand down, displaying one of his fingers that had elongated into a threatening looking spike. Shapeshifters didn't need anything to make a shank with when they had bones at their disposal. A lot of people feared Hotts since he was one of those men who didn't have anything left to lose. He was old and wasting away the more time passed. A man like him would never escape those prison walls and have a life worth living, so getting violent and assaulting people in front of the guards wasn't that big a punishment for the man. They'd give him a few days in solitary before upping his life sentence. Apparently they expected him to continue wasting away in prison even after his death. The older men who had nothing left to lose could be some of the most ballsy and violent. “....It’s Anders, surprised he haven't chatted before.” The male scoffed.
"I make it a point not to interact with your little majesty or any of his loyal ******** subjects." Hotts has never held any respect for Ryder. The ghoul got off on pretending he ran the joint. He couldn't wait for the day that little ghoul kingdom he made up disintegrated to the ground and Hale was left without a wall of prisoners to hide behind. That man had plenty of people who wanted to watch him squirm and pay for all the s**t he'd done. It's like when one of the guards leak that an inmate is a rapist or murdered a child. There were plenty of people inside the hellhole who held a moral code that told them it was alright to torture the ******** out of the scumbags. Street justice was beautiful in prison. People had been watching Hale destroy plenty of lives, so one day he'd get a beautiful taste of karma and Hotts wanted to be there to witness it. "If he thinks I'm willing to do any business with him, tell him he'd better be ready to choke on my d**k." Which is nothing more than a simple sign of disrespect he absolutely expects to be delivered back to the ghoul. Hotts had made it clear in the past he wanted nothing to do with the man, just because the past few years the ghouls had gained more influence didn't mean that changed the decision Hotts' made a long time ago. Hotts, and anyone who worked for the man, would always remain on Hotts' blacklist.
Junk Baby
ll squabs -- M C G E E
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2017 4:22 pm
xxxEASY ; EASY ; PULL OUT YOUR HEART TO MAKE ; BEING ALONE ; EASY ; EASY xxxxxEASY ; EASY; YOU BREAK MY BRIDEL TO MAKE ; LOSING CONTROL ; EASY ; EASY 《 ◞MMMMMM ; EASY⇣♛● ● ● ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
The low rumble of the cafeteria, it was like music to his ears. To most it was just a time to eat, to talk s**t, and pray to god some dumbass didn't start another fight. However to Adrian, this was the time of day he got to feed; not like ghouls who'd chew on their playthings, or like the normal folk who just needed calories to make it through the day. No, this was the time of day Adrian got to openly feed on the other inmates worries, anger, joy, their rumors, their secret. Everything that came out of your mouth in the Cafeteria, there was a chance Adrian was listening. To him, it was like listening to a radio, trying to find a station, a conversation that entertained him. He'd sit with just any normal group of people, not invited, but not exactly intruding. Sometimes it'd be difficult to find a good spot, but he'd manage, and he'd just sit quietly, and tilt his head when there was an intriguing sound to listen to. One would say, as an advesper, it would be easier for him to just summon his familiar so it could just walk around and he listen in like that, so there was less of a chance of him muddling information or missing out. However, that's a mistake Adrian wouldn't like to make again; his mind was his precious gem, the computer that kept him in business, the less the pigs ******** with it the Better. There were too many inmates for their small space, too many guards breathing down their throats, too many chances of ******** up. So for now, Adrian settled with messing with the dial on his talk show ******** this s**t... if I don't get real food sometime soon I'm..." "Just two more days, first thing I'm gonna do is bust that ******** you know what's good for you, you'd better walk away."
All the while he'd just mindlessly chew on the s**t on his tray; it kept his mind occupied so he'd didn't have to think about how much he hated his meal. There were small things about the recent events that have been happing in the Cell Block, tidbits Adrian made a note to keep a track of. People still talking about Hotts getting a makeover, the disappearance of a certain inmate, things like that. There were also the occasional deals being passed around, cigarettes, pills, dust, and surprisingly basic toiletries, and foodstuffs, for services or other prison goods. Occasionally Adrian tuned into the shopping channel himself if he heard offers for something he wanted. Speaking of which Adrian wouldn't mind something to take away some of the tenseness in his shoulders. Deciding he'd like to do a little bit of business today, all he had to do was listen for a good opportunity. Behind him, a tall black haired man moved from the Ghoul's table to Hott's gang. He had been hearing some grumbling among the noise, but he didn't think much of it, they were so hushed with business so often, he usually only heard hoops and hollers when the parasites got something tasty to eat. However, a man doesn't just switch to Hott's table because they felt like chatting, especially if you even knew Hale. Even if Adrian didn't know Hott's standpoint on the ghouls by word of mouth, the conversation he turned into didn't paint a pretty picture. "Hey Hotts, is it?" he chuckled "The one and only." "....It’s Anders, surprised he haven't chatted before." "I make it a point not to interact with your little majesty or any of his loyal ******** subjects."
Adrian almost lost his s**t, boy, Hotts was a funny guy, and that's the type of quality entertainment Adrian liked to listen to. That Anders guy got shut down harder than a gorilla getting out of its cage in a city zoo. Poor thing, still, if someone didn't ask Anders about his offer, Adrian's curiosity would eat away at him till he was either a husk or the guy spilled the beans. Blue eyes glanced to his meal mostly finished, still, he knew better than to leave it, there were those picky folk that would throttle him for that. So back to the kitchen, it went, and to Hott's table Adrian strode.
"If he thinks I'm willing to do any business with him, tell him he'd better be ready to choke on my d**k."
He quietly took note of the sharp claw that sat where one of Hott's fingers had been, yet he still greeted the situation with a smile.
"You know, it rude to threaten your guests."
Behind one of Hott's crew, Adrian pushed himself to the table, crowding slightly with his addition. However, it was clear that everyone besides the old coot himself was trying to avoid inciting violence. "Pardon me, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, Mr. Anders,"he showed off his grin, sweet as aspartame."I'm just horribly curious you could say, what could Hale of all people need to ask Hotts for?"Adrian glanced to Hotts, his gaze hidden under his mess of pink hair, with these old folks it was hard to tell how much time you had before the snapped."I understand if now's not the best time, but... the name's White, some like to call me the broker, if you need anything, it's not hard to find me."
Hotts’ face was wasn’t as bad as Anders had expected. Although it was still decently ********. Hotts’ had a reputation in this prison. And it wasn’t one you got by being a little b***h. So it was safe for the dark haired male to assume that the werewolf had to have been pretty damn tough to deal this much damage to the older gentleman's face. Nice. Ander’s appreciation for Odin’s masterpiece on Hotts was cut short however, when a sharp spike suddenly cracked down hard on the table. Making Anders jump slightly. His hand however, was left extended for a moment. Before curling his fingers slowly, and returning his hand to his side. "I make it a point not to interact with your little majesty or any of his loyal ******** subjects."
Well, this was not how Anders was hoping things would go. Yet, it wasn’t totally unexpected either. The Metamorphoses smile faded fast at Hotts' words. No one liked being put down like that, and Anders was no exception. Honestly, he could care less about how anyone spoke about Hale. But implying that Anders was a ******** by association? That’s what irked him. A fire sparked inside Anders. He stared at the older male, a brow arched slightly. But otherwise blankly as Hotts added another insult for Hale. "If he thinks I'm willing to do any business with him, tell him he'd better be ready to choke on my d**k."
Anders curled his upper lip, and a quiet snort could be heard. That was probably the best thing he had heard all week. It wouldn’t bother him one bit to see Hale becoming someone's prison b***h. Not one bit. In fact it would be amusing in a way… But Anders had his own pride to think off. So he made sure his expression stayed serious and unflinching. Nodding a bit, he had to take a moment to process the rejection. If it was anyone but Hotts... a guy with a table full of lackeys, willing to back him up in a fight. Anders might have just let a fist fly right about now. But as it stood, there would be no winning this battle.
“Heh...Well then.” He started, looking off to the side, planning on what to do next, planning an exit strategy of sorts. Before someone else decided to intrude on this awkward encounter. "You know, its rude to threaten your guests."
His left eye twitched at the sound of the newcomers voice. And then his gaze darted up to the pink haired male before him. Who the ******** does this guy think he is? The last thing Anders wanted was for someone outside of Hotts’ or Hale’s circles to hear the rather harsh rejection he received. The hand that lay low at his side curled tightly into a fist, his nails digging into his the palm of his hand just a bit. Maybe a fight with Hotts would end badly for him. But Anders was sure he could take this guy. However Anders knew better than to just let his anger get the best of him. Unlike a lot of people stuck in this place, Anders didn't think of himself as a wild animal. He should at least see what this guy had to say.
"Pardon me, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, Mr. Anders,"
Anders only responded with an irritated scowl. The fake smile on the other rubbed him the wrong way for sure. What a p***k.
"I'm just horribly curious you could say, what could Hale of all people need to ask Hotts for?"
“Ah..Huh…” He grumbled, letting a long exasperated sigh follow. Pretty Ballsy for this random punk to start prying into other businesses. Looking to Hotts for a quick moment, Anders wondered briefly how the old man was taking this. Before he glared back up at the newcomer. ”Look dude. Mind you-” He paused, suddenly it dawned on Anders that this man wasn’t really some kind of rando. And that this guy. He’d swear he’d seen him speak to Hale once or twice before. Or maybe it was just the aura this guy had that peaked Anders curiosity. One way or another he knew who Hale was and didn’t seem afraid to meddle in his business. He studied Mr. White’s face for a bit, he definitely seemed like he knew something. Or at least, knew he had something to offer. If he hadn’t and was indeed just being an idiot... Anders would be back to being pissed off again. Of course, Anders could just be reading this guy all wrong. He wasn’t psychic.
“Maybe you could help.” Staying seated he leaned back against the table and crossed his legs, Clearly not intending to get up and leave Hotts alone just yet. “I was just asking Hotts here if he had any Advesper friends who could do a favor for Hale.” That much information was safe enough to let both the old man and the pink guy hear. “You obviously heard how that turned out.” He grumbled. Running a hand through his hair in a casual fashion. “So…Mr. White.” The thought of calling this a*****e ‘The Broker’ made him roll his eyes a bit. “Unless you are one or you know of someone willing to help a guy out…” His lips spread into his own crooked smile, flashing his fangs as he did so. “Then you can turn right around and ******** off.”
Anders went quiet seeing how against Hale the man was. Or perhaps it was the total anger and hatred radiating off his body. Hotts had a way without words. His body language and facial expressions could move mountains. So good. It wasn’t often that you got a chance to leave someone speechless. Now he just needed to wait for the boy to run off with his tail between his legs. Although before Anders got the chance, a harrowing voice flattened itself over the table.
”You know, it’s rude to threaten your guests.”
When the elderly man turned his head, he was met with some sneaky little b*****d pushing his way in next to Faulkner. Pale pink tinted hair draped round his shoulders as he had this mischievous expression crossed through his lips. It was insulting he’d break into Hotts’ territory with a smile. All Hotts could do was wait to see what this male wanted. Almost immediately, Adrian turned to Anders and began to explain he had been spying on them. Listening to business that didn’t concern him. When Adrian questioned what Ander’s motive was to go to Hotts’ for help, the man angrily bit down, a tight jaw emulating even more hatred for the disrespect that was being shown for him. If there was one thing that Hotts hated more than Hale, Adrian found it. The boy hardly acknowledged him.
But on the other hand, Hotts did need the same answer. Anders never did mention what in the ******** Hale was trying to drag him into.
“I was just asking Hotts here if he had any advesper friends who could do a favor for Hale.” An advesper? What was Hale trying to do with one of those? Hotts had two in his small group of misfits. One was even older than him who was simply waiting for death to come knocking on his cell door, and the other was a young man who would be out in four more years. The man’s familiar wasn’t that big either. Everyone in Hotts’ group had touched the thing so far. It was a small creature with twisted limbs that moved very jaggedly, almost mechanically. It could unwrap those limbs, but they were very stiff like tree branches. The small hooks on the creature’s limbs made it easy for the thing to crawl along walls and swing from the ceilings. It was nasty watching the creature be active. Regardless of why, Hotts was almost positive Hale would be looking to cause damage. What else would the ghoul want? He’d probably send the familiar to people’s cells to disfigure the individual and tear their limbs off in their sleep. “Then you can turn right around and ******** off.” Anders at least had a brain of sorts. With Hotts, he seemed hesitant and quiet, letting the two chat among themselves. This other little punk who waltzed over like he owned the joint cutting in on their conversation needed to pay.
Hotts stood up, scratching his nose before slowly moving behind Anders. ”I don’t believe we’ve met before, boy.” He leaned over Anders’ shoulder reaching for a roll on the other side of the table. He plucked a piece off, popping it into Adrian’s mouth before quietly stabbing his sharpened fingers into the male’s thigh. The roll would give him something to bite down on if he was in a screaming mood. And of course, if the male had half a brain, he’d know to keep his mouth shut. ”If you think it’s acceptable to cut in on my business, I’ll turn you inside out.” His words are winded and raspy, but still as aggressive and meaningful as any other of the younger inmates when they were shouting threats back and forth to one another. Nobody would notice the sharp fingers pressed into Anders skin as long as none of the immediate people next to them made a scene. Faulkner eyed the two of them once Hotts made his move, but he quickly turned away to draw less attention to the scene. The elf knew not to get involved in a public area like this.
”I’ll give you five seconds to get the ******** off my table or I’ll stab out your eyes out.” Hotts threatened the male, still leaning well over the male’s shoulder. It was only then that he slowly pulled the sharpened bones sticking out his fingers from Adrian’s skin, giving him a chance to leave if he wanted to avoid any bad confrontations.
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