Open Log for June

[not_caroline]

WHO: Coraline and folks!
WHAT: Meeting her roommates and everyone else and hating all of this.
WHERE: Cell 4, the outside area and the canteen!
WHEN: June 12 - 19
NOTES: Probably more toplevels incoming as June goes on!

Jail Cell 4 - June 12-13

Given that there are three grown men - not only strangers, but ones with obvious airs of power and menace to them - you would expect the mid-teen girl locked in there with them to be at least somewhat threatened, or at least remotely cowed by their presence. Certainly she spends most of her day curled up on the top left bunk, her chubby but slight form utterly drowning in the tunic and pants (she'd forgo the sandals completely if the floor wasn't so cold).

Instead, Coraline is about five seconds away from harassing them all at any given point in time.

The two white-haired lackeys interest her the most. The scraggly muscular one reminded her too much of Hunter to even remotely register as a threat; he was even all scarred up. This was clearly a man who was used to fighting for his life, and something about him said to Coraline that he was used to people being scared of him as well. The way he held himself, always so stiff-backed and glare-y. He was tall enough that the top of his head is within easy reach of her bunk when he was standing, and she could almost reach it to harass him while he was meditating or something too. So sometimes she does, letting her arm trail over the side of her bunk and try to flick strands of his hair; or reach both arms down to try and inexpertly braid it.

The Sephiroth knock-off was handsome - well, more pretty, really, but she could see herself crushing on that, if she let herself actually engage with that childish part of herself. Instead she stares at him, watching him be all sullen and sulky and mopey on his bunk, with no sense of decorum or propriety. She's just staring at him, mostly, but when he lets out some dramatic sigh she mimics it perfectly, trying to get a reaction.

The third guy she kind of likes. The weird Japanese-looking guy with the missing eye. He seemed nice, which was weird considering the, you know. Entire missing eye thing. He looked like the mafia or something. More interesting, however, was the fact he felt completely and totally normal - not like Geralt with his blatant high fantasy bullshit (again he looks so much like Hunter that the thought he might not be magic doesn't cross Coraline's mind) and Alucard-- like, come on. But Majima's just some dude, and she can't help but be a little bit concerned when she sees him come into the cell with the shit just absolutely beaten out of him.

At least with those three she doesn't make a point to put on her (in her personal opinion, expertly manipulative) 'o woe is me, a poor childe stuck in jail with three grown men, hwhatever shall I do' act. Not least because none of them read as active threats; it's more she just doesn't want to waste the energy on trying to screw with three people at once. She stays terse and quiet instead, only bothering to put on the act when someone new comes along outside; that's when the waterworks start, her big hazel eyes swelling with tears and gentle, snivelling shivers start wracking her slight form, perched on her raised bunk with her arms wrapped tight around her knees.

Free Time - June 12-13

Well, now that she knows for a fact that her magic doesn't work here, she sees a fair bit less reason to engage with the courtyard and all the shitty gym supplies it has. But a full hour of sunlight is nothing to sneeze at, and she always makes a point of choosing a spot in the yard that she can drag one of the benches over to, so she can sit with her back to the sun and feel at least a little bit better. It was hard balancing being a Darkling with being a Dryad, when one was repulsed by the sunlight the other needed, but at least sitting in her sunlit corner watching the other prisoners do their own thing, she feels a little bit more hearty and secure in herself; at the very least, she can continue staring down other inmates and try to get a better read on the people she's only ever seen from a distance through multiple sets of bars.

Cell 4 (-3) - June 14-18 evenings only

Well, this was unpleasant.

She knew everyone in jail was getting shipped out to some mining thing - she'd heard talk between the guards before, about getting a break, and she'd made sure to get someone to get her out of it as soon as possible - but she hadn't anticipated them not being there when she got back that first evening. And when she looked around, after getting locked back in her cell... so was everyone else.

She was completely alone. And as much as she gave her roommates shit for simply existing in the same space as her, right now she really misses it. The entire place felt way too cold and empty, and she ends up stealing Geralt's bunk after the first night to cuddle up and feel a little bit less scared. She's not used to that; she's always spent her life with at least one other person always nearby - solitude was a scary thing that meant there was no-one to protect her (not that she needed it, it was just nice).

Comments

Jun 12.

[gynvael]

[ There's some irony to being tossed in the dungeons after he just got out, mm. Three days ago? Four? Hard to say; keeping track of time wasn't on his mind when he was dying on the back of a merchant's cart.

Upside: he's no longer dying. Downside: he has company.

No one's tried to kill him, though. Yet. He'll take it. He can ignore folks. It's what he proceeds to do, though he does offer his name (once) and quietly takes notes of theirs. Of what he can overhear in the neighboring cells, he takes note, too.

After the first few times the girl's refused to fuck off, Geralt's given up in keeping her out of his hair, literally. Doesn't seem worth the breath. So occasionally, he sports a partial braid in hair that's gradually turning from white-silver to a muddy grey. Or he thinks, in any case. No mirrors. Not that he cares to know his appearance; like shit seems a safe assumption.

He's chewing on his portion of bread while the girl puts on her performance for whoever's happened by their cell. She's not bad, in truth. Makes him think of the orphans in the alleys of Novigrad, looking to swipe some coin from your pockets.

Only when the show's over does he speak up, his typical dryness tinged with the faintest amusement. ]

How many have you swindled to date? [ He's not looking in her direction, but he's clearly addressing her. ] Or too many to count?

[not_caroline]

[She has to lift a hand to wipe the excess tears from her eyes as her latest project fades, so they and her nose are a little red, but her voice is back from its pathetic lilt; bored now, slightly annoyed as she gives a noncommittal hum.]

Less than you'd think. [She sits on the end of his bunk and lifts a leg so she can curl around her raised knee.] Mostly it was just one person, but now I don't really need to. I've got someone who has my back, back home.

[But the thought of Hunter not being here - hell, even her dad, or her Fetch would be pleasant enough company, because it's someone she knows. Geralt was nice in his gruff way, but he wasn't hers.]

And it's not swindling. [It's hard to tell if she's being sincere when she says that, as dry as she is.] It's just making the most of every opportunity I have.

[gynvael]

[ The sound that Geralt makes suggests he believes the two things to be one and the same, but also that he's not interested in debating semantics.

His gaze slides briefly towards her as she sits beside him. Majima won't keep his mouth shut about a damn thing, but both Coraline and Alucard have been more elusive about themselves. It's the way he prefers it. There's little reason to grow close to anyone in here.

But occasionally, a tidbit falls here or there that he decides to catch. ]

A friend?

[sunshinehan]

The waterworks definitely worked better than his casual indifference whenever visitors came by so he let her have at them most of the time. It was also vaguely amusing to watch considering he knew her behind the scenes so to speak. The whole deception thing didn't bother him from this side--he couldn't say he didn't ever deploy similar tactics of his own while running his business as the manager of the Grand Cabaret--though if he had been on the other side and discovered it later he might have been angered by it.

That didn't mean he didn't talk to his own fair share of visitors, but it did mean that often times he would say something to her whenever someone was approaching and he noted it wasn't a guard, essentially siccing her at them as he surreptitiously moved out of the way. It was a sweet deal and, hey, he was used to coaching girls how to charm the pants off the privileged dicks that came to chat with pretty young things. What was one more?

Then there was the daily beating. It was better than it had been when he'd first arrived here. Maybe the guards were losing their momentum. Or maybe he was getting used to it (again) and the pain didn't hurt so much anymore. He felt a bit better once he got back to the cell and moved directly to his bunk where, after the guards were assuredly gone, he took out his eye patch and put it back on--he didn't want the guards taking it away from him out of spite that one of the honored guests favored him so much so took it off and hid it when they approached the cell. Then he took out a pack of cigarettes and popped one into his mouth. He didn't have any way to light it yet but the sensation was comforting enough on its own for now to trick his brain into peace and calm. If he was lucky, Kiryu would return with some matches later.

He stared across the cell at the young girl who was watching him. "What?" he asked without removing the cig from his mouth. "Ain't used to a dashing rogue coming back from the wilds with bruises and abrasions aplenty? This ain't anything." He waved a hand in the air dismissively. "I've gotten worse from shoddy massage parlors before."

[not_caroline]

That gets a mild snort out of Coraline, who can't help but grin a little at the ridiculous statement. "You're not dashing. And aren't you a little old for me anyway?"

She rolls out of her curled up little position and lies on her stomach, languorous and uncharmed as she props her chin on one hand (and the act makes her sleeve fold on itself, revealing the angry burns around her wrists she's been mostly attempting to hide) and looks down her nose at him with amusement. Easier to hide it under contemptuous amusement than indicate she might actually give a shit, and now he's back the guards tended to give them some berth. "The fuck are they beating you for, anyway? You can't be that much of a stain on that fucking wizard's honour."

[sunshinehan]

Wow, crush his hopes and dreams with that resolute statement. All right, to be fair, he knew absolutely no one thought of him as dashing or even vaguely handsome thanks to his missing eye and subsequent eye patch. No big deal.

That didn't prevent him from acting huffy about it anyway. "I'm not that old!" Seriously, he was only twenty-four. Why did teenagers always call him old? "I can be charming if I want, ya know. But why waste my effort on what's in here?"

All that was mild and half hearted at best. There wasn't much offense there but if they were going to play that game then Majima was going to give back what he got. Oh the other hand, his next words darkened a bit as his voice deepened. It wasn't her but the topic.

"Oh, you never know. Maybe they thought they'd continue the tradition." He said with a scowl, though it wasn't aimed at her but rather the thought of the prick that had brought them all here. "Maybe they don't like one-eyed monsters. People tend to look at them in disgust."

13 June

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard has absolutely noticed that every time he lets out a noise, there's a second one, usually with an undercurrent of mockery. He doesn't presume that it is anything more than a child wanting for attention though - the waterworks that happen every so often shows a shrewd enough mind that makes it clear.

So he doesn't engage. He isn't in the mood, and it's a strangely effective deterrent for himself. Fewer noises of self pity ensue over the next few days, until he's mostly quiet for the bulk of the morning of the 13th.

The staring doesn't stop though, and it becomes uncomfortable enough that that is what finally gets a reaction. Terse, but not combative. The best he can manage right now.]

I realize there are precious few sights in these four cramped walls, but the intensity is unwelcome.

[not_caroline]

[Coraline doesn't flinch when she finally gets a proper response out of the reticent drama queen, but she's very noticeably on alert for a hot few seconds until he actually speaks; and then she moves easily back into her previous sedate pose. No visible movement on her end at all, but a definite passing-through of complex emotions.

And then she opens her mouth.]

I realize there are precious few sights in these four cramped walls, but the intensity is unwelcome.

[Yes she sure is parroting his own words back at him in a blatant (and rather poor) imitation of his voice. Hers can't quite get that deep, and the accent is obviously over-done, but she's really not trying to do more than get a reaction.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Right.  He probably should have anticipated a response like that.  Alucard takes a moment to consider what options are truly available to him as far a response goes, and after the moment passes, he realizes a simple thing: there's nothing viable.  He's stuck in a cell with two other people, he is not the kind of person to throw hands with a teenager, and any words out of his mouth are going to get the same mocking tone in return.

The only option available is silence, and so he does just that.  He goes quiet again, closing his eyes to make it clear that he's not engaging any further at this point.]

Free Time

[mytearsaremine]

Jolie isn't one for working out, exactly. She likes a good run, and she loves to swim, but the shit in here? Ugh.

There is, however, a hard leather ball which she has taken to kicking around. She kicks it in Coraline's direction, carefully calculated to bump into her ankle gently. Come play? Or be grumpy, whatever. It's an overture.

[not_caroline]

Coraline isn't paying attention to Jolie - she just didn't register highly enough on her personal threat scale to give such focused attention - so she startles a bit when the ball bumps into her ankle, and she looks quickly down at it before she focuses on Jolie.

...you know what, fair.

She shifts in her seat and pushes herself up so she can give the ball a good proper soccer kick back - not powerful, just half-decent form, back to Jolie with a faint little half-smile.

[mytearsaremine]

Jolie is all spirit, no form. She has no idea how to play soccer except you kick the ball from one side of the field to the other. But she jogs to intercept and kick it back.

"This is literally the only cool thing they gave us out here," she calls over.

free time, june 13

[opioid]

It's inhumane, really. An hour, that's all, that's barely anything. An hour in the cells passes so slowly it's like pulling teeth, but their precious hour outside is too quick to count. It's like he blinks, and then they're being shoved unceremoniously back indoors. Eddie never knows what to do in the yard, whether he should actually be getting in some exercise or if that's going to look to the guards like he's trying to bulk up for an escape. Or worse, like he's accepted his fate.

Five minutes since he's set foot outside, and Eddie's done nothing at all except stand in the shade by the door looking indecisive as all hell. He does a single cursory sweep of the yard and spots a lone young girl sitting in a patch of sunlight; looks like she's moved a bench, too, which is smart as hell. Eddie decides that his activity for the day is to make friends, and promptly heads over.

"Space for one more?" he asks cheerily in a thick New York accent, and before she can answer he drops down onto the bench beside her. "Damn, you found the best spot in here, feel like I'm on a beach in Miami about to get redder than a spanked ass."

[not_caroline]

Coraline doesn't miss how the man who's been standing there like a stunned mullet for five minutes suddenly makes a beeline directly for her, but she only deigns to look up when he gets within a few metres of her in case she needs to react.

The accent and abrupt sitting down don't bother her, though the latter gets something of a dry look - it's the second comment that gets an abrupt laugh out of her before she can stop it, and covering her mouth doesn't stop the grin from spreading across her face.

She can work with this.

"You think Miami's bad, try Queensland," she shoots back easily, her own accent distinctly Australian. "Forty Celsius and a hundred and twenty percent humidity, you'd turn into a lobster just stepping off the plane."

[opioid]

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Eddie says agreeably, leaning back and hooking an arm over the back of the bench. "My brother Henry, he did a tour in 'Nam and he told me once he and a couple guys from his unit were catching some rays, trying to get a real full-body tan, you know?" He wiggles his eyebrows. "So he falls asleep in the sun and wakes up an hour later and I kid you not, he'd sunburned his dick and balls."

Is she a little young for this conversation? Maybe so. But she's older than Jake, and Jake would've doubled over laughing at that.

evening after their battle!

[nightwash]

Ronan doesn't like the dungeon. He can feel it making him sick every time he descends — the darkness smothering him, the air unraveling him, the sense of him very gradually becoming nonsense. Maybe the mages knew a cage down here would kill him. Maybe they knew the threat of it would be enough to keep him in line.

He'd rather not be here, but since the guards refuse to bring the kid to him, Ronan brings himself to the kid. He walks slowly down the empty row until he spots her in the fourth cell. Or does he? He knows it has to be her, because the others are gone, but he almost doesn't recognize her. Something about the light, maybe, or her posture now that there's no audience. Or maybe the nighthwash is already eating away at his eyes.

"Hey, you little shit," he greets her, with more affection than she deserves. "You hungry?"

[not_caroline]

It's not hard for her to miss the sound of footsteps echoing through the silent dungeons; even the guards didn't bother talking to her at this point, so Ronan's presence is like lightning in the dark.

She watches the man's silhouette approach from her position lying on her top bunk like an army sniper or an ornery stray cat ready to swipe - Ronan will see pure yellow eyes, almost glowing, peering at him from the dark, until she moves with sudden swiftness, vaulting off her bunk and landing silently on the stone floor, barefoot and something odd about the silhouette her form takes as she stands up straight and approaches the cell bars - but as she enters the light, she looks perfectly normal again.

"Hey loser," she says with matching warmth and a surprisingly genuine smile, pulling her tunic down to cover her arms so she can rest her elbows against the bars. "I already had my gourmet lunch today, can't imagine why you'd think that."

[nightwash]

Definitely not human, Ronan has decided. He doesn't know what she is, but he knows it's not human. Which isn't a mark against her. If anything, it warms him up to her a little more. Humans have betrayed him at every turn and he's about ready to swear them off entirely.

"Should I just sit here and eat these in front of you, then?" he asks drolly as he holds up a pair of spiced buns he smuggled in. In his oversized hands, they look tiny, but they're really about equal to Cinnabon rolls. They smell a bit like them, too, minus the frosting.

June 21 Onwards - RELEASED FROM JAIL /o/

[not_caroline]

Room 7 (Closed)

Technically, Jon was supposed to be her caretaker her now. He had not bothered mincing words about that, on the way to his room - and hers, now, since there was a spare bed in there and he's supposed to keep an eye on her. "Supposed" to, largely because while she's more or less his problem, he's also been consistently, actively encouraging her to cause a little chaos, so. It's not like she's actually on a leash here, or that he's going to try very hard to stop her. She appreciates that.

At the very least, it's nice to have a proper bed again, and the tunics for the honoured prisoners are legitimately more comfortable - not that Coraline's stopped wearing her traded-up tunic and pants underneath it; those are thankfully sigil-free, even if the Tower symbol on her new set of fancy silk robes is much more tastefully small on her chest. She'd refused to give up her actual prisoner's clothes on principle, but immediately stuffs them into the chest at the end of her new fucking four-post bed when hers gets pointed out.

She's in and out of the room fairly randomly, even late at night and into the early morning; her sleep schedule's shot after staying in jail. So while it's not hard to catch her during the day, it's surprisingly difficult to catch her leaving the room at night. It's like she just... disappears.

The Castle (Open!)

Coraline's pretty sure she's not the only person who's been released, even if she knows none of the guys in her cell are among them. So it's fun picking positions where she can see everyone walking past so she can start memorising faces. She's much better at faces than names.

Her favourite spot so far is one of the windows in a hallway of the Northern Wing overlooking a massive tree that almost reaches the tall ledge - she could probably reach it if she jumps from the window, but it'd be a lethal drop if she missed. Watch her sit as close to the edge of the window as possible, one leg dangling out in the air as she sits curled around the other; her hair's draped across the shoulder leaning towards the window, so she has full use of her peripheral vision on the hallway side, but she's quick to look up when she hears people coming, staring openly with her unusually bright hazel eyes.

The Dungeons (Semi-open?)

You know what's a fun discovery? That her prison robes, if she opens a giant slash down the front, fits far more nicely as a jacket than it ever did as a tunic. And for bonus points, it's still so baggy that it makes it incredibly easy for her to hide a not-insignificant amount of food in her pockets when she goes back down to the cells to keep an eye on her ex-cellmates. They'd been nice to her (more than they had any reason to be, given how annoying she was trying to be) and she'd very quickly come to like them, so it was only fair that she came back to visit. Every few days, in fact, to make sure they get some decent food and conversation.

She eyes off the guards as she comes down, but as usual they really don't pay her any mind, and she makes it to cell four unhindered, and drapes her arms through the bars of the cell with a faux-cheery, "Hey guys." (That's the other nice thing; she doesn't have to pretend with these guys.)

Wildcard?

[[And if there's anything else you'd like to do, hit me up on maniette and we can talk it out!]]

Room 7

[the_archive]

He had slight reservations about putting her in her with the three of them, but practicality won out. Most of the rooms were co-ed anyway. He thinks it helped sway his argument to release her, too.

All the same, when he comes back late one night from the baths, wearing just his spare trousers, it's still the whiff of impropriety that he's conscious of, and not his own appearance. The little borrowed mage-light he carries along with his laundry is blue, and it reflects oddly on his scars, making them show clearly.

[not_caroline]

If it helps, it's not like it was exactly gendered in Coraline's favour in her cell, either. And they didn't even have baths there, or toilets, so this is a step-up on pretty much every level.

The sound of the door can't wake her up when she wasn't sleeping; she's been trying to practice the hand gestures for that healing spell people have used on her, trying to get those slight, specific movements memorized in motion. Still, Coraline doesn't move to get up until after the glowing blue light passes her curtains and catches her attention, and by the time she sticks her head out to look, Jon's already back at his bed, and she has a full view of his back.

"...huh." Her voice is quiet, but so's the room, and she leans forward so she can scoot to sit on the chest at the end of her bed. For Jon, her eyes glow dimly in the dark, yellow despite his blue light. "That's a weird one."

Room 7

[lone_horse]

If there is one thing that Kiryu is incredibly aware of (and not in a creepy way, thanks) it's teenage girls in his living space. Which is why when he sees her there, a girl he knew had been down in the dungeons before now, there's honestly a bit of relief before anything. And then, well... curiosity. And yet, the first thing he'll ask is-

"Let me know if there's anything you might need. I have some supplies stocked up."

[not_caroline]

She can't help but measure up Kiryu carefully when he speaks to her; it's habit, more than the thought he could actually threaten her, and she sincerely doubts he would just from the way he so sincerely treats Majima every time he swings past.

"Thanks." Her smile is sincere enough, as is the gratitude in her voice. "I'm, um. Still sort of working out the rules up here, for everything." She sits on the chest at the end of her bed and pulls a leg up to hug against her chest. "It's pretty different to downstairs, it's a little bit overwhelming."

Castle!

[stealsthetruth]

Kay has only been free for a few days, but the novelty of it still hasn't worn off. It is SUCH a relief to not be stuck in a cramped little cell/tent with three other people 23 hours a day, seven days a week?

Granted, any joy she feels over her emancipation has been rather a bit overshadowed by the news of the disappearance of two of her former cell mates, but... Well, Kay is tragically used to putting on a brave face through grief, and she copes best by keeping herself constantly busy. That's why she's been putting a lot of her newfound freedom and time into pestering the mages in the study hall. What could be more distracting than seizing the opportunity to learn actual magic?

She happens to be walking back towards the study hall when she crosses paths with Coraline. Moments prior she'd been practicing as she walked, idly summoning small twisters of wind in the palm of her hand, but she stops what she's doing when she notices the other girl there. Recognition and curiosity both register briefly on her features before she breaks into a wide grin.

"Hey! I know you, don't I? From the prison yard?"

No embarrassment about her past incarceration to be found here!

[not_caroline]

Most of the reason Coraline doesn't overbalance out the window from being suddenly yelled at is because she saw Kay coming a mile away, but the other girl's sheer loudness is still a lot, and Coraline cringes inwardly.

Externally, on the complete opposite, her face lights up like she's just seen an old friend, and she beams back at Kay. "Oh my god, hi! I didn't know anyone else had gotten out, Jon talked them into letting me go after the festival!" She hops down from the window, immediately sizing up Kay and privately lamenting the girl being taller than her. "I'm Coraline!"