Prison RP discussion

No so much of a courtyard. It's more of a dusty strip of land fenced in with barbed wire. Pleasant!

Sophia sat out in the courtyard, glaring at the sky. She wanted to be with her brother, but all the guards have denied her access to him.

Go lucky Jason had gotten short access to the courtyard. Under heavy guard so he didn't kill any inmates, like the 82 he did the last jail he was at.

Sophia looked around, seeing another inmate, a male one. She huffed angrily to herself, why couldn't that be her brother. When her eyes met a random guard, Sophia flipped him the finger, as if she was trying to piss him off. She paid no mind to the other inmate.

Jason spotted another inmate. a female one. maybe with a bit of smooth talking he could have a good night tonight

Sophia felt eyes upon her "Take a picture, it'll last longer" She said, giving Jason an annoyed glance.

"not as long as memories, sweet heart" Jason said

Sophia rolled her eyes, of all people it had to be a smooth talker. "Don't call me sweet heart" She snapped, if she weren't in prison, she wiuld have lured him to her brother and killed him. "If you have a brain, you wouldn't get involed with me" Sophia warned.

"I have a brain. I used it to kill 82 people in jail once and make another 100+ sick" Jason said

"I've killed and helped kill over a hundred men, women and children. I made my first kill at 5...her blood tasted good in Mothers cookies..." Sophia stopped, thinking about her mother, who was in another prison all together.

"huh, cannibalism. not bad. not useful. I may have to kill you when I get out of here of course, but still" Jason said

"Good luck with that, I'm serving 60 years, so I'll probably die in here" Sophia responded.

"multiple life sentences" Jason said proudly

"Congrats want a parade" Sophia said snarkily. She was mostly in a bad mood because she hadn't seen her brother since they were sentenced.

"Naw, don't bother with a parade." Jason said, watching her

*Rivor wandered into the courtyard. Her eyes were glazed over and she was holding a gum wrapper. Her auburn hair curled around her oddly colored eyes.* "Ain't no reason to sic the dogs on me." *She muttered over and over.*

The Joker. Worst of the worst was being led through the courtyard, heavy guard, and in a straight jacket. some rumors said he could and has ripped people apart with his bare hands

*Rivor didn't notice the man in the straight jacket, she was too wrapped up in her own little world. She sat down and started ripping the gum wrapper into small pieces.*

The Joker saw everyone in the courtyard. And it made him smile, not like he wasn't smiling before.

Jason had been walking over to Rivor when he saw the Joker and he flipped

*River didn't look up. She was now tracing scars on her arm with her index finger.* "Ain't no reason to drop the bomb on me." *She kept muttering*

Jason tried to lunge at the Joker but was held back by guard, like five guards

The Joker just laughed

*Rivor turned her head and blinked heavily, still chanting. She had cut herself with her fingernail and watched the blood trickle down onto the dirt. She put her mouth up to the wound and started to drink her own blood.* (I gtg)

Sophia leaned against a wall, back to glaring at anything she looked at.

It was always nice to get a bit of sun but everyday spent in this sh*thole seemed to be cursed with perpetual cloudy weather. Even as Dante leaned against the chainlink fence that lined the barren courtyard, on his own for the moment and quite clear of any distractions, he couldn't help but bristle with some irritation that must have been part and parcel of the weather... and of having nothing better to do. It was hard to approach anyone here without wanting to start sh*t with them. The guards were always watching, stationed especially about the courtyard so it was hard for him to have a smoke until he was back in the confines of his room. And really there just really seemed very few things of substance to commit to.

"They could've at least given us a bloody gym," Dante muttered to himself, flexing his fingers against the fence to his back, idly observing the courtyard, and thinking. There wasn't much else to do, after all.

Claude was on his usual stroll pacing about the courtyard, letting his thoughts trail off and letting himself day dream . . . Until he saw a certain cellmate, "Well I'll be D*nmed, it's sure nice to see the likes of you again. What are ya up to? Trying to relive your miserable life?" Claude made his way to the cellmate, standing squared off to him with a blank expression. Now starting his internal timer on how long it would take till Dante told him to f*ck off or something.

"F*ck off."

Didn't take ten seconds. Dante levelled the other bloke a glare and lifted a hand to flip him off.

"I see enough of you as it is. And I don't want to hear your sh*t. Not in the bloody mood."

Being rather on edge, Dante had no problem letting his words carry his anger, especially in warning to the other... he wasn't looking to f*ck around, nor put up with Claude's usual condescending bullsh*t. Even if the other hadn't done much to piss him off yet... Dante's idle unease was almost begging him to put a fist through someone's face and Claude might be just asking for it simply by being in close proximity to the gangster.

'Huh, new record . . ." Claude nudged Dante's flipping off hand to the side before sighing and grinning a tad, "I just wanted to see how you were holding up, no freedoms, no life, not that you ever had one of course, or did you. What? You also have a whiny melodramatic past? Um, I think I know what this is, you're compensating. Now for what I don't know, your lack of shame maybe?" Sure Claude would normally prod at another for doing just as he is, but they are able to surfer in certain ways that Claude can only dream of.

Dante was silent save for breathing, tilting his head back to stare at the grey sky as Claude rather carelessly continued to talk him down. Bit by bit, any sliver of self-restraint Dante would've liked to retain left him, any regard for consequence or the nearby guards vanished, and by the end of Claude's little spiel, the red-head had had enough. Slamming his hands against the chainlink fence in a sudden angry rattle and shoving himself towards the other with his fists balled, Dante's hand shot out to grip the other by the chin, simultaneously bringing his knee up so as to drive his limb forcefully into Claude's gut just as he yanked him forward.

"Do you have a problem, motherf*cker?" He growled breathlessly, hair strewn messily about his agitated and irate gaze. Tightening his grip on the other's jaw, he practically snarled in his face, ignorant of approaching guards. "Because I can help you solve it ."

Claudes eyes only widened a tad, but he calmed after realizing Dante only grabbed and punched him, nothing fatal so nothing worth reacting to. "Hm, well my problem was that I was bored . . . But I believe you can solve it" Unfazed by the hit, Claude simply returned the favor and gripped the younger mans throat and with his other hand slammed his fist right into Dante's abdomen, "There, we're even. Now doesn't that feel better?"

Dante gritted his teeth, bristling at the other's unflinchingly apathetic response before he felt him snag his throat and he received a blow to the gut. Although he tensed for it, the punch was powerful; Dante coughed, but it did not help that there was pressure on his windpipe in the meantime, uncomfortable tears pricking his eyes as he grabbed the hand at his throat and dug his nails in in his attempt to tear Claude's grip away.

"C*cksucker," Dante glowered, breathing heavily as he finally shoved the other man back. "It'll feel even better when I finally slit your goddamn throat."

Spitting on the ground, Dante stopped only to catch his breath, his abdominal muscles and throat sore although he refused to show the other weakness. A part of him wanted to lunge back at Claude in a flurry of punches, the other part reminded him he'd gotten into a punch-up only this morning and he wasn't in the best condition. Even so... to walk away was...

Shaking his head, Dante finally glanced aside for the guards, refusing to look at his cellmate. Did they leave to call back-up? Whatever the f*ck... having no one to stop him was... strangely liberating.

"You're not done yet, are you?" Dante finally spoke again, his tone even, although bitter, as he faced Claude with fierce green eyes.

"Now now if course I ain't done," Claude took a small glance at Dante's attempts to ease the grip . . . This of course only made his want to tighten his grasp, but he'd rather have the prick alive than dead. Claude kept a grip on Dante's throat, not enough to strangle but it was something, and kept the other loosely at his side. "What, ya ain't gonna fight back? Come on I'd like to see ya try, try and hurt me? Can't be that hard . . . Right?"

Dante said nothing initially, his grasp on the other's jaw unrelenting although his other hand was busied with the grip at his throat. Claude's taunts, uttered at any other time or by anyone else, would've milked from him enough rage to send his knee into the other bloke's crotch and the fight to a whole other tier. However, while Dante wasn't a thinker per say, he had keen fighting instincts. And something felt completely off.

For one, Claude was a smug b*tch but that didn't make him unassailable. It was easy to hide pain behind apathy but Dante noticed how the other had hardly flinched at his prior blow, and even now he stood unaffected. If Dante were a weak little b*tch it would be a considerable response, however he was a streetfighter and he trusted his hits. He was not weak, and he did not hold back for that. He kneed into flesh, not armour. So why wasn't Claude showing even physiological signs of hurt?

Dante hesitated before responding in any such way, turning Claude's words over in his head and coming to a conclusion although it was batshit if true. Neither was it smart to continue fighting without reassessing his approach, not if he was at that sort of a disadvantage... Swallowing gingerly, he narrowed his eyes at the Southerner and asked.

"Try and hurt you...? What's the deal?" His eyes flickered to the other man's torso, dubious. His voice dropped from its prior rage-induced volume to a genuine confusion, pushing his question despite their current position.

"You didn't feel that...?"

"Oh, oh I see now. Ha, someone help this dumb boy. Ya gotta actually hit me," Claude pushed off from the boy, standing back. Arms open, and looking as if there wasn't a care in the world. "What, afraid if I ain't lying on the floor begging for mercy you might be seen as . . . Oh wait, you're already weak . . . Hm, I'm almost getting bored of you . . .'

The auburn boy let out a disappointed groan, muttering something about how, "I'm surprised he didn't figure it out yet . . ."

"Uh...?"

Dante didn't even bother to properly respond to Claude's snide comments as such, tilting his head in some disbelief and sort of scanning the other up and down. I mean no sh*t he hadn't figured it out 'til now... he hadn't pushed himself to have a proper go at Claude before but sh*t, this guy... was he immune to pain?

"Alright, just a sec," Dante requested, and without any real malice approached Claude before he very suddenly sent his fist into the other's jaw, not an angry punch that would send the other stumbling but just a typical solid hit. He then looked to him, curious. "You didn't feel that?"

Because at this point Dante wasn't even angry... just amazed. And needing to clarify what he thought.

Claude's head was simply tossed aside a tad at the mans blow. But Claude simply turned back to the boy, again still faking disappointment. "You know, you're really . . . Starting to bore me . . ." Claude flung a blow to Dante's jaw, only raising a brow at the redhead, "Of course I didn't feel that, you're just as weak as you are inane . . ." His dusty blue eyes, lined with dark circles, shifted from Dante as he took a look out for guards. "He asked for it . . ."

"F*ck you, I'm not weak," Dante retorted then, rubbing his sore jaw and gazing at the other in some new light. Sure he had that coming but you couldn't really blame the bloke for being curious and wanting to put theory into action. And this... it explained a lot. Even if Claude was trying to downplay it all with his sour attitude.

"Jesus f*ck... if you don't feel punches... if you don't feel pain... sh*t. You're a lucky b*stard, aren't you?" Dante raised an eyebrow, expression partially amused, partially in awe... and partially ticked off, with thanks to some very real jealousy on Dante's part.

"No wonder you like starting sh*t, huh? You'd just walk it off. F*ck, that's nuts."

"Pfft, me? Lucky? I suppose . . . But I've always dreamed of being able to feel more, what's the weather like? I can't say, am I dying, who knows? But what I do know, is that you can feel pain . . . Y'all don't know how lucky ya are . . ." He shook his head at the man before giving him a light flick on the shoulder and a bored stare, 'No wonder he's so dust dumb . . . He doesn't know what he has . . . Doesn't appreciate it . . . But I guess, that's just what makes him fun. "Now enough real talk, how can you be so ignorant as to think something like this is a blessing, sure I can walk it off . . . But how can I know when to pull back . . ."

"So... you don't feel it when it's scorching. And you don't feel when it's freezing either. " Dante shook his head with a light scoff. "You're not just a lucky b*stard, you're an ungrateful one too. You call me dumb but you have no bloody idea what you have... guess I can't really blame you since you've never felt pain before, but let me tell you it's a whopping b*tch. Whatever the Hell you've got... you have no idea."

"And that's honestly one of the sh*ttiest excuses for wanting to feel pain that I've ever heard." He continued, narrowing his gaze at the other. "Who the f*ck even says that? You think reckon this feels like a walk in the park?" Dante pointed to his bruising jaw, and practically crowed at the other. "Man, I'd take what you got in a heartbeat. Believe me, if you knew how it'd feel to take a bullet, or to get kicked in the balls, you'd be thanking whatever the f*ck is holy everyday of your life for being free of pain. Bloody hell, you have not a damn idea of what you have."

Dante folded his arms, still a tad disbelieving of the other before he made to answer his final enquiry.

"Does it really matter? You still bleed right? You get tired, yeah? I mean stay sharp enough and you'd be able to tell what's going on with your body. But to not feel pain... that's awesome. That's a gift being put to waste. F*ck you, I'm actually jealous," Dante admitted seriously.

". . ." Claude simply stared with a stoic and almost, annoyed expression. "Yes I still bleed . . . . Yeah tiredness comes . . . A lot especially when I have to deal with your whining . . . Yeah I suppose it's nice, because that means I got one up on ya. I suppose this, oh what'cha call it, gift? Is something that makes our chats much more pleasant . . ."

Dante rolled his eyes at the other man. "Sh*t, do you always gotta be a depressing and snarky pr*ck? I mean I know I'm no f*cking bundle of fun but you're always such a condescending f*ckface... then again I guess I kinda understand why now. It must be great fun irritating people knowing they can't do sh*t to you for it, huh?" Dante mused somewhat bitterly. "Oh, unless they were to kill you. Which you've somehow avoided as of yet. Considering how much sh*t you like to spout I'm surprised you aren't dead. But whatever the f*ck... Yeah, guess you got something over me in that sense, but you'd die just the same if I were to take a knife to your throat while you slept. You just wouldn't feel it. And I suppose I'm glad I know now, I'd hate to waste my fists on you if that's how it is..." Dante shook his head and shrugged.

"Oh, you're just gonna stop so easily. Just as I thought, if you're fists hasn't say anything surely there is nothing here for you. Fine by me, fine . . . By . . . Me." Claude snickered and looked at his fellow inmate with an expression resembling how one might look at a poor and naive child who said something outrageous yet down right hilarious. "So what now? What else can you do besides make whatever you touch suffer? Ya got anything else?" Claude paused, his grin slowly growing before he backed up, shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Yep, a one act show. Typical."