Private A Night in the Clink

[Kaelen Varrin]

Kaelen groaned, shifting in his cell as his eyes peeled open from what felt like multiple layers of weights and quick-glue. Rubbing at them, he wiped away sleep crust and smacked his lips together, his mouth as dry as a sandpit. Looking about, he had a moment of panic, realizing his weapons were gone, his coat was gone, and nothing really but his actual clothes remained to him. Then memory came flooding back, and he shook his head, leaning back against the cell wall, letting the chill of it nurse an aching headache where a trandoshan had thumped him the night before.

"Never trust a rodian with a cargo too good to be true... It's the eyes..."

Sighing, he sat, for all the outside world and cameras, giving up. In reality he was thinking, planning a possible escape. Until he got a prickling up his spine that he knew to trust, that said he wasn't particularly alone in this cell, and then the inattention and closed eyes became affectations. Not like he could do much regardless of having a cell mate or not, so he waited, planning, but with one eye peeled, as it were.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Kaelen Varrin was right. He was not alone in his cell. Atop the bunk bed that he was meant to share with someone else, lay the resting body of a certain Sithling, who was just now coming to.

She blinked several times, trying to get the sleep out of her eyes, and trying to understand why the ceiling was so close to the tip of her nose. That wasn't normal. She usually slept on a bed that was so low it was barely more than a mattress against the floor, so she was supposed to have at least a few more feet between her and the top.

Next came the sensations. Someone had touched her while she was asleep. The last memory she had, she'd been wearing her armor and a plethora of blades. Now, she was in a weird makeshift gray smock. Dang. They hadn't even given her shoes.

Well then.

The first thing to do when you wake up without your clothes, and not where you thought you'd fallen asleep, was to most definitely, absolutely, under any circumstances, not panic.

So she didn't. Instead, she yawned, and pretended to stretch her limbs while she checked if anything was holding her down. Nope. Then she rolled onto her side, seeing the other man who was there with her.

Who was he? She had no idea. She took a little inhale. Mostly human by the scent of his blood, though she wasn't certain yet what type of flavor of human. Well… Okay, that wasn't the worst starts of all.

"Good morning," the Sithling greeted him, still not entire sure about… Well, no, not sure at all, "When's breakfast?"

 

[Kaelen Varrin]

"Not entirely sure they believe in a continental style deal here in... Wherever this particular prison is... Still foggy on that, hazard of being brain jarred by a trandoshan hunter..."

He opened his eyes cautiously, eyeing his cellmate. A smile quirked his lips, and he nodded.

"I mean, I could make a ruckus and get a guard here to ask. But odds are they won't exactly be in the question-answering mood. More the boot kicking style of moods. And I don't know how many of them it would take to kick either of our asses, but I know about how many they can use, and it's enough."

His eyes flitted from feature to feature of the cell, analyzing. Thinking. Not his first time within four walls. Probably not his last either. This one wasn't without flaws, and without much further snarking, he stood up, eyeing the cell door and resulting mechanics that powered it. Clearly not an engineer, he had come to realize in his many incarcerations that either the same three or four companies made prison doors for the most part, or that they were just lazy and settled on a standard design Galaxy wide, or nearly.

"You happen to have a hair pin, anything like that?"

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Kaelen Varrin


The first thing to do when you wake up without your clothes, and not where you thought you'd fallen asleep, was to most definitely, absolutely, under any circumstances, not panic.

The second thing you did, was look for food. But apparently, that was not going to be immediately available either.

Scherezade scratched the tip of her nose, trying to think of what the third thing was. She couldn't remember right now, but she was quite certain that it had nothing to do with whatever had been given her to ensured she was not awake while being transferred.

Carefully, testing her weight against the small ladder steps before giving up entirely and just jumping down.

No, the guards were not going to help. That wasn't a hard one to figure out.

Well then. Hardly the first time Scherezade found herself captured anywhere, but every time it came with walls and/or bars, she was absolutely friggin' delighted in the most unironic way. You learned to appreciate the tangible things after you'd spend a few centuries in the Darkness.

Scherezade brought a hand to the back of her neck and felt around.

"Nope, they took the knife from my hair," she said before remembering the pat down her entire body, trying to find at least one blade that they might had missed. No luck. Absolute zero for anything that had a sharp side or a pointy end.

Next came the bars. Her glowing green eyes followed them closely from top to bottom.

"I can probably ram us out," she noted, though her voice seemed distant, as though she was caught up in equations and trying to figure out just how hard she'd have to go to make it work, "but I'm not sure how much use I'll be after that, when people with weapons show up."

She turned around again, looking at her cellmate.

"Any talents that could help us right now?"