brokenweapon | 005.

I think you'll find one of them was a warden, actually.

It appears I'm behind on the news.

It would appear, shockingly, I am too. Make that two, not one.

Today just keeps getting better.

It does, doesn't it? Again, I do wonder on the conditions some people are ever made wardens.

It could have something to do with circumstances.

Or the Admiral's a sick bastard.

I vote the latter.

Hmmm, nope. I believe the last two murders were committed by wardens. You really ought to pay more attention.

Wardens who murder are no better than inmates.

I agree! Let's demote all of them.

I think that would lead to anarchy.

Only for a little while. A new leader would eventually arise.

Two?

~~I'm not usually the one behind.~~

Two. The girl and the latest death. Doctor on Doctor crime is a big problem in my universe.

Edited 2010-02-09 02:27 (UTC)

Someone killed the Doctor? Which Doctor?

A Doctor killed the Doctor. Why don't you do some sleuthing?

~~How did I miss this? just like I missed that plot to~~

What is wrong with people? I'm starting to think I'm the only sane one here. And I'm an inmate, by the Gods.

~~at least it wasn't that Doctor~~

Not much more than Swing and that other guy are telling you. A couple brothers killed some girl; I think one was a warden. Some new guy killed a warden woman too. That's all I know about.

Also? Some guy's trying to start a game of inmates killing each other. Did you hear anything about that on your end?

~~God damn it~~

No, I haven't. Are you involved with it? Do you have details either way?

Can't say yet. What kinda details you looking for?

Who's playing, how many, what's the motivation. And you mentioned it's a game - are there rules, or is it a free-for-all among those participating?

I know some of it, yeah. And yeah, there are some basic rules.

My name still isn't Colin Sullivan and I'm still not from Boston, if that's why you're not saying anything. The more I know, the quicker the other wardens and I can end this so-called game.

I'm not telling you because I don't know if I should tell you yet. I mean, who the fuck are you? You're not my warden. You're not my boss. You can't do shit for me and you won't even give me a fucking weapon.

I'm already sharing my files with you. You get me a weapon and I'll fucking tell you everything you want to know about the inmates.

I'll get you a knife. You need something to defend yourself with, whether or not you're going into this game. People get a little crazy here, in case you haven't noticed.

But if you misuse it - and I will find out if you do - you're going to wish I was just Sullivan.

Hey asshole. Don't fucking threaten me when you're asking for a fucking favor.

Ethan Rayne started the game, alright? I'm not giving you anything else 'til I get the fucking knife.

And watch out for Swing. He was a professional assassin before he came here.

Force of habit.

Swing. Got it.

4,18. Don't fucking tell anyone where I am, you got it?

[Costigan moved to the door, hearing a knock, and waited until the person identified themselves. He had a pretty good feeling it was Bourne, and that fact was confirmed when the man spoke. He opened his door just a crack to ensure, then just wide enough to give him room to enter.]

"Get in here." [He acted as if he didn't want anyone to know he was friends with any wardens. Hell, he still had a reputation to establish here.]

[Bourne went down immediately, a pocket knife for Costigan hidden. Usually he wasn't one to work with other people like this, but it was good sense here. He had an in with the Statie, especially when it came to dangerous inmate goings-on like this.]

"Like I take orders from you," [Bourne said gruffly, recognizing the act for what it was. Nonetheless, he stepped inside.]

[Costigan was stressed and his patience suffered as a result. With someone like Costello, he had no choice but to be patient, which was why he took it out on Madolyn the first time they'd met. But here? There was pretty much only one person he wouldn't flip out on. Maybe two, if his warden turned out to be a worthwhile person.]

"Fuck you, alright?" [The inmate closed the door behind him, locking it and then listening in silence for a few seconds to ensure he wasn't obviously followed. Yeah, he was paranoid.] "I'm trying to help you out here, to do you a fucking favor, and you're going to-- what? Threaten me? Refuse to listen to my orders when I might fucking know a thing or two more than you about this floor and who's around?"

[It was obvious he was serious about what he said. It was just as obvious that he was more stressed than their last good talk and increasingly anxious too.] "If you want this to work? We need to work out a fucking arrangement. Because I'm fucking sick of this shit."

Edited 2010-02-09 08:05 (UTC)

"That wasn't a threat, it was a promise. I don't know you that well; I have to be sure that if I give you a knife it won't end up in my back." [He shook his head. What a pisser that he couldn't remember much of how Conklin had handled him back in Paris. It could have helped.] "Usually in these kinds of situations, I'm you. It's hard to get used to being on the other side of it. I'm sure you can appreciate that."

[Bourne took a deep breath.] "All right, all right." [Costigan was clearly troubled by what was going on, he could tell that much, and briefly wondered if giving the inmate a knife was a good idea. Too late now.] "Hell of a welcome."

[Time to put himself in Costigan's shoes. He'd want a set arrangement if he was going to be the guy in danger. Sighing, the former asset rubbed his temples. That headache was starting to come back.] "Okay. An arrangement. Go ahead. What do you want out of it?"

"And, what? You think giving me a knife and telling me not to stab isn't common fucking sense? Fuck you." [It was obvious Costigan was more looking for a rant in general at this point than actually angry at Bourne in any way. The man just needed to release some anxiety. His medicine wasn't doing as much as it used to and he was having difficulty getting more.

The inmate paused, looking away with a begrudging sort of expression as he resigned himself to getting along.] "Thanks for the knife."

[Costigan lifted one hand to remove his cap, running the other hand through his hair and scratching nervously at his head. Then his cap was returned as he was thinking.] "I want to know what the fuck's going on on the warden side of things.. And I need someone that can help me get permission to shit, especially since my warden's not exactly what I'm used to. What do you want?"

[Bourne shook his head and waited for Costigan to mellow out - even though that might take several lifetimes. High-strung was the simplest way to put it; he was all wound up about everything that was going on.]

"You're welcome." [He considered Costigan's demands. They were pretty reasonable, all things considered. Information for information and permissions.] "I can do that. What I want - obviously, there's access to your records, and anything else about what the inmates are doing day-to-day if shit like this keeps happening." [He hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets.] "That's it."

"Great. Abra fucking cadabra, we have a deal." [It seemed to satiate him for now, and the inmate started examining the knife to ensure that it was something he could use well.

Satisfied after only a minute or two of playing, he slid it into his back pocket and gave Costigan a light flick of the head in acknowledgment that was not quite a nod.] "You better get going. Won't do wonders for my reputation if people notice you around here too often."

[Bourne shrugged.] "Wasn't so hard, was it?" [He really did want Costigan to trust him; it was good to have an ally on the inmate side of things, since Armand was, at this point, not liking him very much.]

"Good thinking." [The asset had been thinking the same thing.] "Let me know if it works out for you," [he said, and exited the room.]

It's getting out of hand this week. There's been attacks left and right, some ending in death.

Are you okay?

I think there was a flood and the Admiral forgot to mention it.

No complaints. Are you?

It's starting to look that way...but it seems a more likely cop-out then reality.

I'm....no. I'm not alright.

Do you want to talk about it?

Maybe. Probably. Sorry, it's just confusing. I'll get back to you. Thanks, Jason.

Can you get me some Mexican food? It's important.

...I'll see if I can find some burritos in the kitchens.

~~I don't even want to know.~~

Something good. I don't want the microwave shit.

I'm making friends.

I have your burritos. And, for some reason, a taco salad.

Thanks.

005. - Voice

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Hittin' close to home there, Swing!

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Jason is technically a hypocrite but he swears the non-assasinations were in self-defense

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he was paying too much attention bitching at dean.

lolll

swing is NEVER behind. damn that dean grudge of his.

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and swing pisses off to do just that.

Private

Private - strikes illegible

Private

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Private - Watch how helpful he is.

Private - Voice [You're very helpful, Billy.]

Private - Written [:D]

Private - Written [You can practically hear Jason sighing.]

Private

Private - the pocket knife is in the mail, aka he is delivering it as we speak

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Short spam - Bourne was just playing along, now he has a headache. :x

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Private

Private

Private - present-dated (Sorry, BFF. You're going to get sick of me.)

Private - Sick of you? Never. Jason's all like "WTF, mate."

Private - <3

Private - magically-appearing tex-mex via admiralty, ahoy! There are also tacos in the bag. :3

Private - Assume Costigan picking it up later?

Private - Sure. He better get there quick 'cause Bourne is hungry. :o