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[reargunner]

ᴛᴇxᴛ | ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ | ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ



Leave a message if you want. I'll get back to you when I pick my comm up.

Or I won't.

Comments

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Efficient.

[An audible eyeroll at that.]

I'd hate inmates, too, if I got stuck in max for delinquency.

[reargunner]

[He snorts again.]

Place like that, you do what you have to do to get by.

[And perhaps now Jacob understands better why Cain doesn't easily trust his intentions.]

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[Trust is subjective. At least to Jacob.]

Yeah, I get it.

Anyway. You ever want a drink, hit me up. I got nothing else going on.

[reargunner]

Can't say my diary's that full either.

[And wow, he hates it.]

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

You gotta get a better social calendar.

[reargunner]

Never been in the habit of making friends while incarcerated. Best way to end up with a shiv in your back or worse.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Yeah, you're going to end up with one of those sooner or later anyway. Might as well have someone who will bring you the good shit while you're recovering.

[reargunner]

I have someone for that.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Good for you.

I'm going down to the speakeasy to mix ibuprofen and vodka to see if I can't make something stronger. If I see you there, I'll pour you a glass.

[reargunner]

[Cain doesn't reply to that last message, but a while later he does saunter into the speakeasy. The young man doesn't have the look of someone who is uncomfortable in his situation and he clocks Jacob immediately despite not yet knowing what the man looks like.

Something about him. Or maybe it's the ibuprofen on the bar.

He takes a seat, but not after grabbing a bottle of whiskey and a glass.]

There's some Everclear back there if you wanna get really fucked up. Unless Blitz already drank it all.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He wrinkles his nose at the suggestion, looking up to take him in properly.]

Everclear is what I drank to get fucked up in the middle of the goddamn woods when I was a kid.

I have standards now.

[reargunner]

Still tastes better than some shit I've drank.

[You didn't get to be picky in prison, and inmates did have ways of putting things like that. He's going to leave out the part where he down four shots of 151 proof recently and thought he might be dying for a few hours.]

So, here I am.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Warden took all my good shit away that I got in the last port. So.

[He pours a drink into a glass for him.]

And the only doctor in there that's non-magical fucking hates me.

[reargunner]

Your warden sounds like a dick.

[And while he's reserving judgement and trying not to generalise - a couple of the ones he knows are good people - his own first temp is giving him something of a dim view of them overall.]

Don't much like the one I'm stuck with right now, either.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He's alright. I drugged someone, so - he's probably right in what he did.

[He takes a long drink.]

Who do you have this month?

[reargunner]

Hmm.

[Fair point. If Jacob's fine with it, then, he supposes it's not his business. Instead, the topic turns to his own pain in the ass, and he pours himself a drink before he answers.]

Calls himself Jesus. Just gotta deal with him for a few weeks. Keeps insisting on checking in on me.

[He knocks the drink back and swallows it without so much as a grimace.]

He can go to hell.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Oh that guy. Calls himself Jesus.

[He shakes his head.]

Some people don't go for subtlety, do they? At least when my parents named me and my brothers, they stuck to normal names.

[reargunner]

Might not be his real name. Don't really give a shit either way.

[He snorts softly, pouring another generous shot into the glass.]

Don't want anything to do with him, and no one's gonna throw me in solitary for ignoring him in here.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

My first warden was Norton. The next was Saga, she's not so bad. The third and final was Norton again.

[He sniffs in annoyance.]

I got lucky.

[reargunner]

[Cain just shakes his head.]

Not interested in makin' nice with any of them. A permanent one even less. Got done being used with the Alliance, I'm not gonna do it again.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

The ones who claim that they're here to help and all that shit? They're not worth talking to. At least Norton's open about wanting his deal.

Some wardens give their inmates their deals.

[Which Jacob trusts even less than that.]

[reargunner]

[He does pause a moment at that, knowing that Abel's deal would affect him even if it doesn't involve him directly, but he quickly shakes it off.]

And the temps? That's not for anything, right? So why won't mine get off my ass.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Some are just built like that. Helpful as fuck, and when you don't give them shit back, they feel useless. They have to have something to do, something to work on, or they have to sit and reexamine why they're even here.

[He refills his glass and picks it up in a mock toast.]

[reargunner]

Tch.

[He answers that toast with a tilt of his own glass before he swallows the contents down.]

If that's what it is, then he's gonna have to get used to feeling real fucking useless the next few weeks.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Good. Maybe it'll be a good learning opportunity.

[He brings his other hand, bandaged tightly against his palm, onto the table and scrubs at his face.]

Have you gotten the 'would you rather just be dead' question? They love that one.