Post by Connor Sleight on Feb 23, 2016 11:57:00 GMT -5
It was dawn again. The red sun rose and crept through the small window to highlight the lack of character within his cell. Stone walls, of solid cast and rough surface, surrounded him. There were no flaws on the walls, no scrawling marks of boredom or desire. It was all a blank canvas. There was no point to it. It would only to add to the fervor of madness that would take lesser men.
Seated at the back wall with knees raised, the rogue relaxed there with forearms propped upon the pinnacle of knees. Mismatched hues cast at the door, thinking of the passel of prisoners and guards beyond. It was another day within the confines of Shatter Island. His home for some years now. The focus of the day, the steps he would have to take to ensure his survival, just a minor a chess game to the wild one.
As sunlight crept further into the room, the pressure of the oceans around would send in the cold air of the night, escaping the warming rays of the large star above. The chill brought on arousal of gooseflesh but only for a moment as his body accommodated the change in temperature. The green and blue orbs set within his skull continued it's deadpan stare at the metal barrier, waiting for the schedule of rounds to commence. Ears, scarred from youth, no longer holding their pointed tips, drew back and flexed to allow him a better retrieval of sounds from the corridor beyond.
The click of heel was faint as the guard descended the staircase into his wing. The lids upon the rogue's eyes closed so that he might focus upon the gait of authority. With each rhythmic step, the slow shift of hips favoring the right leg, he could conclude it was Raelin who approached. Identification had his memory coming forward clear as day as to why he knew who it was.
----
"Alright, Mister Sleight. Time for your weekly room inspection." Raelin barked with some gravel to his chords. The door swung open and inside the guard traversed. Directions had Connor stepping outside and standing at attention while the man inside wasted his time. There was no bunk, no bucket, no personal effects within the room. It was simple practice, simple harassment that had the guard 'doing his duty'. There was a shake of the rogue's head and an eye roll as he knew what was to come next. While Raelin went on his tirade, Connor was outside, mouthing the words verbatim to the guard that was keeping watch over him.
"This place is a wreck! Filthy! I thought you knife ears were supposed to be better than this. The floor's dirty and the walls are wretched." It was at this time Raelin had undone his own trousers and withdrew his cock to relieve himself of the morning's coffee. Connor even went so far as to make the motions with his own hands revealing and relieving himself. The guard before him found it humorous yet did his best to not make a peep.
The pitter splatter of urine continued as Raelin emptied the contents of his bladder, leaving the walls dripping and puddles upon the floor. With a flip and lace, Raelin covered himself before barking the next command. "Gustav, bring that felon in here with the mop and bucket!" And so, upon command Connor entered the cell with Gus bringing effects in behind him. It was then that Raelin pointed out to all the piss every where. "See that? The disgusting elf defiled the place where he lays his head. Good thing we're generous enough to bring a mop and bucket with us to clean his own mess."
The scent in the room slowly worsened past the unfit man's piss. The bucket of water was far from clean. It contained the refuse of prior harassments. It would arguably be more sanitary to sleep in the piss. The set of eyes, unmatched, would look towards the mop and then towards the bucket. One hand reached for the haft and then the other came around to wield it. A dip in the bucket was made and then the slop of wet wool hit the stone floor. Connor knew the contents of the bucket were going to make it upon the floor. He simply chose to do it himself.
As Connor continued to mop up, or rather, move around the mess, Raelin was chuckling to himself to see his misery spread. That was the type of man he was, which made him ideal for his position and responsibilities. "See that, Gus? That's what you call a 'bitch'. No protest, no whining. A 'bitch' knows their place, complies without a second thought."
That got Connor grinning that roguish grin. He continued his duty for awhile longer before he spoke up. "Raelin... I hate to be the one to tell you this... but I think you need to go to the infirmary." The guard in charge stopped his laughing and spoke up in inquiry. "Oh... And why is that?"
The rogue replied in time, "It looks like you've got blood in your urine from another goat-fuckin disease." Raelin's reaction was a little slow. He had just drawn in a deep breath as blood drew into his face in reflection of his rage. But before the words could escape the guard's open mouth, Connor acted.
"Have a closer look!" And with that, he turned and swung the piss-drenched mop right into Raelin's face. The impact had the man floored into the cold, soaked stone, bouncing his head once or twice to leave a good gash from the coarse surface. A step was taken to stomp down upon the guard's ankle to break or sprain. More directly, to keep him from getting back up. Once the pin occurred, Connor kept rubbing the mop head in Raelin's face, establishing who exactly was a bitch in this moment.
Not long after, Gus made his charge. The rogue was bull-rushed against a dry wall as it was the one that Connor left opened to do so. The young guard made a grab for the mop and raised the haft to press in against Connor's throat. When it came to Gus, Connor gave no fight and simply allowed himself to be subdued into sub consciousness by asphyxiation. Gus would have to drag Raelin out of the cell and see to it that he made it to the infirmary after closing and locking the cell.
----
"Break fast, cut purse." Raelin muttered as he arrived at the door.
The smirk that crossed Connor's features was spot on as the tone of the guard was less alpha and more weary. At that, the rogue spoke up in reply. "Think I'll pass if it's coming from you, piss ant."
The access hatch at the bottom of the door opened up and a pan was dropped down in front of it. Placement would force Connor to reach out to retrieve it but he wasn't inclined to fall into that trap. He wasn't hungry enough. Still, Raelin made his point by pissing in the dish of leftovers from the night before. As soon as he finished, he nudged the plate inside, sloshing the refuse about after the plate stopped within the cell.
Before anymore conversation or confrontation, Raelin closed the hatch and left Connor to his break fast.
Still the rogue remained where he was, sharing his cell with the rat food before him. His demeanor didn't change, remaining nonchalant with the day still on the rise. It'd be a few hours before he was forced into activity. Repairs the prison needed, chores to be done. For now, he just enjoyed the silence and solitude with the early morning's light and the ocean's drifting breeze. His time here would be up soon... His business within the SIP was to conclude by tomorrow's night.
