Needless to say, the testimonial didn't go well.
As Roxas' court-provided lawyer did nothing to protect him from the vicious claims of that man's family; he was now sat in the back of a truck, iron bars splintering the sunlight filtering through the glass in the back doors, staring into his hands for an answer. His fingers looked so long and weird, and as the passing shadows danced across his profile in the gloom, Roxas thought they looked like spiders. And then he remembered straining them, turning white from pink, choking that man's neck.
A gentle tug pulled in his chest, but he quickly coughed, making a physical effort to crush the memories. He would not start crying again. Eighteen now; he's better than this. For god's sake, if he's going to start crying again-
The car parked, causing him to jostle on the bench, and the cuffs to jingle on his wrists. There was an audible thud, and then a few seconds later a young man with no notable features gruffly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out through the large doors. Roxas thought about shoving him with his shoulder- he didn't need to be manhandled, he could walk himself.
But then he reasoned if he was going to survive in this prison, he had to do one of two things. Get big. Get muscled, change his attitude, get tattoos, maybe kill someone or beat someone up on the first day. Or, get dragged around like a puppy, and let everyone do as they wish, hoping they'll get bored and leave him be. Much more sensible. Roxas decided he wouldn't look good as a skinhead with five-foot wide shoulders and tattoo sleeves, and chose not to act against anyone. At least while he was capable of controlling his actions anyway; who knew if he could handle himself any more?
Committing murder had that kind of effect on you, Roxas thought. It liberates you, allows you to think and admit to your thoughts without censorship or morality restraining them.
The normal, sarcastic, inherently Roxas part of him laughed at the melodrama and the darkness taking over him, considering how incredibly self concerned and special he thought he was. It was just murder. He killed a man, that's all it was. Not an admission to the dark side, not some kind of snap that's been bound to happen.
Roxas grumbled at his own inability to comfort himself.
0(oOo)0
Relieved to see potted plants and pristine white halls, relatively happy faces, (albeit of the prison staff) and a nice-looking young woman who identified herself as Kairi, Roxas was able to squash those thoughts and focus on the not-insane part of his conscious. Or something. Kairi was confidently donning a red hair colour and a dress in a colour Roxas identified as fuchsia, sadly throwing her blotchy skin up in your face.
Seemed like a nice girl though.
Oddly, Roxas' fashion observations seemed to carry through to the woman, who suddenly approached the guard next to him, and remarked on her "look" or so she called it. Thank god that woman was in a prison, she deserved it for such crimes.
If only I had a twin, Roxas thought, I'd love myself for this sense of humour.
Suppressing a smile, Roxas stopped shuffling to stand adjacent to his guard/escort thing, and he considered backing away slowly, running away while they were distracted, making a break for it- before Kairi addressed him, asking him to come with her. Roxas stepped forward and Kairi met him with an extended hand, followed by a brief silence in which she became aware of his offending cuffs.
"Rod, you can take those off now, he's inside." She said with disdain, turning to the guard.
"Kairi prison regulations state-"
"Enough! What's he gonna do? Pin me up against the wall and rape me in front of everyone?" Roxas blushed. "I'm safe, take his cuffs off so I can shake his hand like a normal human being." Kairi cooled off and finished her semi-rant to send a weak smile Roxas' way, and he wondered if it was just his gorgeous blond hair or prison policy that made her smile at him like that.
Sighing, Rod slipped a key into the cuffs, and they sprang open. Roxas flexed his wrists, and he smiled back at the red offender.
"You're welcome...?"
"Roxas." He took her hand, shaking it a little awkwardly.
"Ah, right, come with me Roxas, I'll show you to the office where we can pick up your forms," They started in the same direction he was originally walking in. "and your clothes, ..."
Clothes from this woman. Dear lord. This is a prison after all.
Roxas absently pulled his soft cashmere sleeves over his hands as he looked down at his expensive jumper and bit back the urge to feign a heart attack and collapse on the floor, just to buy himself some more time with his-
"...and then we'll be onto the medical exam, nothing drastic, just a quick questionnaire, blood samples, that sorta thing."
They arrived in the office, a large room split into the part he and the red offender were in, and then a much larger area like a corporate office separated by a wall of thick glass and door. The guy behind the midsection of the wall passed a bright orange bundle under the glass over his desk to Kairi.
"Cheer up Blake, It's my turn for lunch duty tomorrow! You don't see me moping!" God was this woman annoying.
Blake seemed to agree.
Kairi gripped his sleeve as she turned to stride out of the office, and Roxas thought about making a smarty comment on something to do with leading him around on a leash, but he thought better of it and passed into wide open space. There were several beds and seats, where the white paint and smell of disinfectant and bleach seemed that bit stronger, and a busty nurse with shoulder length, dead straight hair and a large needle sat waiting, smiling at him, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"Hey, Roxas, I'll head off now, change into your jumpsuit over there-" Kairi indicated cubicles half hidden around a corner in the room, and passed him a horrendous orange lump of fabric that reminded him of folded sick. Did she want him to get beaten up?
"And I'll be back to take you round to the guards on duty, kay?" Roxas just nodded, already walking over to the cubicles. Kairi dumped his files and report on the desk that doubled up as a bed-side unit by the bed and left.
When roxas emerged shyly from the cubicle, he was expecting pointing and hysterical laughter, maybe even the nurses whipping out their phones to take cheeky snaps of him flaunting the orange menace. What he found was an eager nurse, a good few several inches taller than him, who grabbed him by the arm to escort him over to the bed. Roxas noted, by the large chest, that this was the needle-lady. Just his luck to get the psychotic needle happy freak. If only he was a sexual deviant who liked nurse uniforms, needles and... well, boobs.
This would have been a lot more fun.
Forgetting to remind himself that the nurses should be scared of him given the fact he'd killed a man only two months previous, he eyed the needle nervously, and whimpered pathetically when his arm was impaled by it. Maybe he was exaggerating? It felt like his arm was being impaled by it.
"So hunny, I'm just taking your blood now," Yeah, I can see that you fucking harlot, along with my flesh and skin. "I'll test you for HIV to save you the embarassment..." Oh shit, she didn't.
Roxas never did take kindly to being reminded of his 18 years of virginity, in retrospect.
It's not like it's his fault that he's cursed with such perfectly mesmerising eyes, hair that defies logic and a wardrobe sense that Gok Wan only pretends to have.
o)(o
A few more stabs and a couple of questions as to his mental health later, (This is a prison. Surely most people here aren't in perfect mental health.)
The red offender returned, took his beautiful clothes of freedom and files from the desk, and waited behind the nurse for him to finish up signing his forms. They even asked his blood-type, just for 'emergency blood transfusions'.
Because, you know, people just like casually die here all the time and have blood bags hanging off their arms or something. They can't seriously be serious. Roxas went queasy from the thought of a tube going into his hand. His lips quickly quirked however, thinking of other vaguely cylindrical objects and similar penetration...
Finally free of the white bitch and the nasty needle, Roxas walked off alongside Kairi, who returned the reports, files and clothes to Blake in the office, before trailing out down through the corridor, towards a guard with brown hair, and bored, grey eyes. She assured Roxas his clothes would be kept in a safe place and would be returned to him when he finished his sentence, but Roxas wasn't paying much attention.
His nametag read Leon, and even that seemed nonchalant in his mind. Leon completely ignored Roxas, only muttering a few hums here and there to part ways with Kairi, who continued on her way down the hallway,- leaving Roxas by the moody lump of spite with eyes. It happened fast, and Roxas felt a little lost as he watched the red offender getting further away. His eyes moved back to the brunette named Leon as he poked Roxas in the shoulder for his attention, and gestured towards a door.
Taking the initiative, Roxas wandered toward the door, glancing back to see Leon falling into step behind him, and then moved aside when he heard the jangling of keys. Leon shoved the door open, and they passed through a series of doors with locks and bolts and metal walls that vaguely resembled a safe, leaving the white and sounds of people behind before one of them opened up into a very large, well, hole.
Roxas took a few steps forward, and Leon thankfully followed, and he gazed out and down at the circular complex of cells that seemed to spiral down beneath him. The tall rails circling the edge of the walls leading to the cells ceased by the point opposite them, a flight of stairs on either side allowing people to move up and down the levels. Down below, a good half mile, Roxas saw what looked like tables and a massive green electronic door leading somewhere else.
On the top floor, a gigantic light well a bit above his head, Roxas realised how trapped he was going to be. How trapped he was. He didn't deserve this. He could accept and sympathise with the thoughts and feelings of the man's family whom he'd killed. But this was just scary, as the reality set in. He felt all emotions surging to the surface, and damned his weak will for choosing this moment to break down under the recent events of his life. He could feel critical eyes peaking out a him from the murky depths of the cells, although he never saw any, there didn't seem to be anyone on this level.
"This is the men's block, we keep the men and women separatelyly for obvious reasons, but you will be eating together and one of the courtyards is available to both sexes simultaneously from ten a.m to twelve-thirty, and then again from two p.m until four on all days. Sexual intercourse and fraternising of any kind is strictly prohibited however, and rape is punished with isolation and an adjustment to your sentence. There are two men to a cell,"
Leon started leading Roxas across the rim of the chasm, a metal rail holding them in and making it impossible to jump off. "...and you each share a bunk, a table and two chairs, and all cells come with at least a urinal. Some of the cells are equipped with toilets, while the majority still have to use a lavatory at mealtimes or otherwise. To do so, you just approach and ask the guard stationed at the toilet for use, although some prisoners will find they will need accompaniment by a guard, though you will be notified of this. I'll show you the toilets tomorrow morning."
Roxas failed to abosrb this information, in his vague state of panic, and due to Leon's tired voice. They reached the end of the rail, having entered directly opposite where they currently were, and Leon used his keys to open the door to a stair case leading to the next level, a little below. "These doors are designed to control the position of prisoners at times and are electronic, automatically opened at certain times of day allowing travel down into the cafeteria."
"There are forms of entertainment available to those who request it, though this is up to the guard's judgment, and some small possessions are allowed into the cells with the prisoners if they have been fully checked by security and deemed safe."
"How can we get them?"
"Get what?"
"Our things..." Roxas mumbled, as they passed a burly man with a goatee staring at them from his chair in the cell.
"You can make a formal request through the warden, although there is a lot of paper work involved and most requests are denied, especially large items. Generally we recommend requesting photographs or letters and, in addition, visitors are allowed to bring gifts in, although there is also extensive measures to be taken before they can be received by the prisoner or taken into the cell complex. Also, they will be refused if considered to valuable so as to put the prisoner in danger when in possession of the gift... Hey, are you alright?"
Roxas was startled by the change in tone of the man's voice, and sniffed, and then tried to stifle it with a manly cough, which sounded pathetic, and his antics made the guard smirk.
"I'm... fine."
"Right well, we're nearly at your cell... 34 on floor 19. Not bad, about mid-way huh? Not too far too walk in the mornings."
They approached the cell in question, Roxas couldn't differentiate though, relying on Leon to stop outside the bars and stare in.
"Oh, you're with Cloud."
"Erm ...Okay?"
Leon muttered some nonsensical syllables as he pulled his keys from his belt and put it in the wall beside the bars. They clicked, and he opened the cell to Roxas, who sent a look at Leon before just stepping in, cautiously glancing the room, before falling on a figure lying on the top bunk in the corner. Roxas turned, his eyes lingering on the figure to be safe, while turning back to Leon to ask, "What's his name again?"
"Cloud." Leon's voice came from behind him, and Roxas felt goose bumps on his neck as Leon almost smiled at him- wait, was that pity?!- and he closed the cell, the bars clicking back into place, and a resounding beep of the reinsertion of Leon's keys announcing the official detainment of Mr. Roxas Gainsborough, convicted muderer.
Leon muttered something again before saying, "I'll be back to see you around eight tomorrow morning to show you around to the toilets and showers and the cafeteria, okay?"
Roxas nodded a little from behind the bars, and turned again to look at the mysterious guy named after a product of the precipitation cycle.
"So..."
Curse his people skills. Rule number one; virgin-murderers typically lack the ability to make conversation in prison environments.
...No, it was just him. Cloud must have been feigning sleep, his bent leg the only indication of his form in the dim light and concealing frame of the bunk.
Roxas stood by the door for a few moments wondering what to do before deciding to just risk his death and sit on the lower bunk. He crept over, though in his head it was more of a saunter, and sat on the spiteful nail bed of a mattress. All about impressions, you see. Gotta look hard, like.
"So... what's your name?" Cloud asked into the darkness, a little bored.
It took a while, surprised by how deep this man's voice was, Roxas suddenly started panicking. He must be so buff.
"Roxas... you?" He looked up to the top bunk an inch or two above his hunched figure, and then laughed "Oh yeah, you've already said..."
Cloud remained silent, and Roxas waited a while before the boredom gave him confidence.
"So what kinda stuff do you do around here anyways?"
"...I'm sorry?"
"Erm, I mean, like what is there to do and such." Shit! Could you talk more like a pretentious wanker? You're so dead! You speak like Will from the Inbetweeners!
"It's prison, kid. You'll be out of here by the end of the week if you keep thinking about that."
Well, Roxas thought, At least I'm still breathing. Maybe he's one of those 'loner-can't-be-fucked-with-anyone types.'
"...I'm not a kid..." Roxas mumbled eventually.
"In a coffin. Or a one of those post-mortem-bag things, I mean. Get into a gang or try to get someone to buy you if you can't. You won't last two days."
"...Buy me?" Even as he asked, he knew what Cloud meant.
"I mean be a punk. Some musclehead's fag. Chances are he'd kill you anyway, but if you don't mind rape, it'd be worth it for the protection."
"Oh...right." ...Shit. Now you've given away that you like the D. Well done Roxas. It's too late to say something now too, it'd sound really add-on, like. And then he'd know you're gay. And then Leon would find you with your throat pulled out tomorrow morning on your bed.
Roxas eventually relinquished his life to the bed of nails, he quickly became tired, and before he knew it, he'd fallen into a restless sleep.
o)(o
Roxas' eyes opened, and he looked up at the bunk above him. Where did that come from?
...Oh yeah. Prison.
He turned, and thanks to a soft yellow little light filtering in through the bars of the cell from the outside, his eyes fell on the vague silhouette of someone sat at the table. Cloud sighed, and hung his head, and then he suddenly realised Roxas was staring at him.
"Can I help you?" Cloud asked, quirking an eyebrow. He just discreetly pocketed something...
"Yah... what was that you were looking at?" Roxas gestured with his face, too lazy to point, squinting against the the darkness, watching with carefully concealed interest the reflected yellow light dancing in Cloud's eyes.
"Nothing to do with you."
"Oh... Kay."
Roxas lie there for a while, unaware that he was staring at Cloud's profile, closing his eyes, drifting through thoughts. So. He was to carry out a sentence of 5 years for strangling a man. He was to stay in a near maximum security prison with nothing to do, for... way too long to think about. A boring, maximum security prison. With offensive Red-haired bimbos and moody office workers, depressed guards and needle-happy nurses who had a tendency to remind one of their orgasm history.
And he had to stay with this nonchalant, expressionless enigma/convict with startling eyes that shamed even his own and hair so gravity-defiant it made his own want to squirt ketchup on it's wrists...
Right.
"Hey." The word sliced through the silence like a sword drawn from thin air and Roxas almost splutters as he is shocked from his daydreaming to see Cloud, this time staring at him, his gaze both expectant and hesitant.
"Aloha." Whadd'ya want, ass?
"You play chess?" He sounded hopeful. Bless, he's almost cute! ...Woah, that was gay... Dude, I'm you, what the fuck are you scolding me for? You should be ashamed of yourself, you're the one that thought it!
Oh yeah.
"...No. I mean, no I don't, I've never bothered... learnt how-"
"You want too?" Ahh, he sounds hopeful again, don't blush Roxas, he could see it; you know when you blush it practically glows-
"Yes." ooh, assertive, nice, maybe you'll turn him on with your bedroom voice-
Roxas coughed to shut up his thoughts. Cloud looked at him expectantly again, and it took him a few moments to realize the board was already set up.
"Oh, right, ...cool." He wandered over to the the cheap table, wearing only boxer shorts and a vest, the hairs on his legs standing up as the chilly concrete floor buffed to a sheen sucked the heat out of him, and looked at the pieces. He was playing back, eh?