this is the part where prison is more or less dave and busters

[saklas]

Passengers: Everyone who wants to come see what the weird vending machine is about for the first time it is open to them! This is an open mingle/party style log.
Location: "a corner," the location of the Commissary
Date: February 1 - 7 on year one of our cool and sexy journey
Summary: 14 space idiots squint at the ATM that can supposedly make elk meat and clown shoes for them
Warnings: Will add as needed! I'm 90% sure someone's going to ask for drugs or blades, just as a weather forecast

Comments

[lessandmorethanhuman]

Fear is...something he hasn't felt in a while. So he blinks, maybe stands up a little straighter. Trying to figure out the source, before blue eyes land back on her. Huh--was she really the cause of that? Why?

"Again, you'll have to find people who actually want the help."

[expectaspectre]

"You'd think more people would be doing whatever they could to get home," she mumbles, hugging her arms. "I get the instinct to question everything, but why's it so hard to just try?"

Nothing about her has changed at all, but that feeling keeps building. Like someone is watching.

[lessandmorethanhuman]

Now that Alex has identified that yes, that was a growing sense of fear, he's more analyzing and less feeling it. There is definitely something odd about her, unsettling. She's not a predator, even if it feels like something is watching him--he'd know that feeling. And the more he analyzes, the less it's true 'fear' and more just being uncomfortable.

Hmmm.

"Because generally the people who are inmates here have a whole fuckton of issues, trust included."

[expectaspectre]

"Sure..." She peers at the big vending machine one more time.

"How's this thing giving out weapons supposed to help with that? I wonder."

[lessandmorethanhuman]

"I mean, for starters--that seems to be on a very specific menu. One that Inmates probably don't have access to." There's a bit of sarcasm there, please ignore it. "For another, who knows? Shits and giggles?" With a shrug.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"That's a much nicer way of putting it," she says with a little laugh. "I'm hoping no one's been too much for you thus far."

James worried.

[expectaspectre]

"Most people have been super nice! More than I'm used to, really. I keep waiting for the shoe to drop..."

Because of, you know, that slightly nauseous instinct that Grace causes that whispers directly into your ancient lizard brain that someone is hunting you, run, run.

"Some of the inmates are, um. Acquired tastes." To put it mildly, which she does.

[nineteenfortyfive]

"You're so sweet. I can't imagine anyone being unkind to you unless they were wrong in the head." She says it easily. "The inmates can be rough, but none I've met are... abhorrent, I suppose."

She's had a worse time with fellow wardens, really.

[expectaspectre]

Grace leans into the screen-- she had spent so much time scrutinizing the offerings, she hadn't even noticed the clear label delineating the difference between what's available for inmates and what's available for Wardens. Of course they weren't about to give weaponry to inmates. Great job, Grace.

"...I promise I'm usually better at paying attention to what I read," she groans, briefly burying her face in her hands from embarrassment. "It's literally my job, I'm a proofreader, how did I miss that, I'm so dumb!"

[expectaspectre]

Aw jeez. Grace can feel herself starting to blush, which never looks great on her-- an obvious wash of color on her unusually pale face. People here really are too nice. This can't be something Grace lets herself get used to.

"That's a good sign. The ones I've met in person, you can at least have a conversation with. No homicidal maniacs." Yet. Probably.

[nineteenfortyfive]

Claire would beg to differ. Some color does her good.

She's kind enough not to comment on that, however.

"Right. I'd still be cautious, at least for now. But I'm sure you'll be a good match for someone."

[expectaspectre]

Warning Grace to be cautious is like reminding the ocean to be wet, so she does what she does best, and agrees.

"Hope so. If there wasn't good I could do, I wouldn't be here at all, right?" At least that's what she tells herself.

[lessandmorethanhuman]

"Also melodramatic." Alex pointed out helpfully, thoroughly amused by the situation. "Not exactly inspiring faith here in your capability for helping us reform." Nor was he bothering to hide his amusement.

[omniavincit]

[ He doesn't know what it is. Maybe it's being paired with Rhys—who seems, at his worst, like a grotesque exaggeration of everything William hates, a slavering cartoon with dollar signs for eyes. Who keeps proposing harebrained schemes to turn a dimension-hopping spaceship into a rigged carnival game. Maybe it's the way Theo looks, dull-eyed and alone. The way he almost reaches for William—who steps back automatically but can still imagine Theo's touch, boney-fingered and desperate.

He looks from the machine to Theo—worse now than ever, less a person than a twitching, exposed nerve. Remembers promising he didn't want to see him broken, abject. He'd probably lick the floor if he thought there were tobacco flakes on it.

He doesn't approach the machine to read what's on offer, doesn't look at it again. He wants no part of this.

Posture tightening, he thrusts his tickets—there are only two, still in the envelope—at Theo. If Theo doesn't take them quickly enough, they'll flutter to the ground as William turns to walk away. ]

[expectaspectre]

"Sorry..." She mumbles into her hands before letting them drop from her face with a sigh. "I really am trying, this is just... it's a lot. I don't have to tell you, I know, just... for everybody. Wardens too."

[sanctus_dei]

Hey--! [William definitely drops the envelope, because Theo wasn't expecting that reaction. Not that he was sure how anyone would have reacted, since he wasn't thinking very clearly. He can't help himself from dropping to his knees and grabbing the envelope, either, and is disappointed by what's inside. Four tickets wasn't enough for much of anything either.

What was he going to get if he even asked for what he wanted anyway? Candy cigarettes? A carton that was just empty and made of foam? A bottle of wine filled with fruit juice? Theo presumed Wardens could just get whatever they wanted, but he only deserved foam garbage dressed up to look like the real things.

Still kneeling on the tile floor, he shouts after William.] This isn't enough--!

[But he stops himself, because this whole idea was stupid and ridiculous. Theo's bullet wound was fixed up when he arrived, but he still felt like he was dying, still felt like the untamed magic was eating away his insides, still felt like his brain was caving in from the lack of his chemical dependencies.

Honestly, this whole Commissary farce really just made him feel like they were mocking him. His voice is quiet and distant again.]

Fuck it. Forget it. I'm not letting them win.

B

[smugreport]

[ Guess who can't participate in this fun little function because he was denied his right to more tickets? This guy!

That's why this poor, disheveled and depressed looking mess of a man (woof, he looks real bad) is gonna get Rhys approaching him, all buddy-buddy and jovial. ]

Heeeey, there he is! My oldest buddy on the S.S. Hostage Holder!

[ Rhys is grinning, but there's clear strain in his voice behind that million dollar smile. His eyes flick down to the sparkling shoes now adorning Volk's feet. ]

Those aren't seriously what you spent your tickets on, are they?

[nineteenfortyfive]

"That's the way to look at it," Claire agrees. "A lot of the inmates might argue with you on that, but I'm hoping a lot of them will relax in the coming weeks."

And maybe get something from the vending machine? Who knows.

[expectaspectre]

Grace's gaze swivels back to the screen of the machine. For the record, she has not blinked once during this entire conversation.

"Thinking of getting anything? There's not much that's really... practical."

[saklas]

Volk glances over. Nah, this fashion choice tracks with the name he gave. Actors be like that.

"Well, if you're completely out, I'd say it's a start."

[nineteenfortyfive]

Not creepy at all. Claire might take note, in the back of her mind, but maybe she hasn't been paying enough attention.

"I don't know... I might just hold off for a while. Some of these have me curious, but... how about you, Grace?"

[saklas]

Volk, behind him, sighs through his nose.

"None of it's real anyway. Come on, it's a list, not 'War and Peace.'"

[saklas]

Look at the bear. 'I WILL resist the urge to blow people up.' Like any of us have done anything worse here than punch someone.

[Volk sounds bitter.]

Like if we did, it's because we're fucking infants who just don't know any better. Like we're mad because someone took our mommy and our toys, not because we're adults with rights and boundaries.

1/2 cw: unreality

[saklas]

[Volk is corporate. Not like Rhys is. A little different. A little 'if you sound desperate, you're going to get taken advantage of.' The movie industry runs through pretty, young people like a sausage factory runs through pigs, because it's convinced them that sausage is immortality.

Volk thought he was different, because he cheated. Because he invested in his writing and directing, not his face, or voice, or tits.

The tone of voice has him turning immediately, eyes flashing.]

WE AREN'T FRIENDS. No one here is your friend, Rhys! Back the FUCK off.

[Volk recognizes him enough - enough - but the truth is that Volk is stressed enough that Rhys looks like a swarm of flies with fire inside of it. The wall behind him has psychedelic, nightmarish patterns on it that he's positive don't exist in real life.

He wants, very much, to just get his hands on someone and hit them until it's not funny any more. Until the amount of control he's been exerting on a daily basis, up to this point, becomes apparent and people stop PUSHING. It's prison, so why the fuck not. Why should he still keep managing his reputation? Hasn't the worst already happened?]

[expectaspectre]

Grace gives a little, helpless shrug. "No tickets. Next time, maybe, if they have a sleeping bag? I need one."

She leaves that one mysterious.