Private She Won’t Be Missed

[“Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha]

Objective: Keep cool, Avoid detention
Location: Mess Hall, Secret Confederation Detention Facility
Outfit: Tattered Prison Garb
Tags: The Lord of Hunger

She was being escorted to the mess from her cell. The guards called her 3732-B. Her official designation was Prisoner 3732, Bogan, Alpha detention. Her file number was 3732-B-Alpha. She didn't remember her real name. It was quite possible that she didn't even have one. The prisoners called her "Sparx". She was always getting into problems with the other prisoners. She didn't know why, she never started anything. One of the few who would talk to her said they were jealous.

Every prisoner had been able to touch the Force before they were brought here. Now no one could. Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha was technically in the same boat. Her senses were dampened. She could move nothing with a thought and a whim. She could not run faster or longer. None of the things she could do before. But from time-to-time electricity would attach itself to her body from some electronic device nearby. The others thought that it was the Force working through the restraints that had been placed on them all. She could not control the bolts of electricity. If it weren't for the reputation and trouble it caused the electricity's tickling sensation would have been a welcome comfort. Proof that she could still feel something.

The source of the ability to gather electrical charges was not known by the prisoner. She couldn't remember much at all to be honest. She was found trying to cross over from Sith Space into the Confederation by an Inquisitorius patrol. The incarceration had been violent, and little of what had happened in the prisoner's life prior to it could be recalled. She felt quite sad. Her jailors couldn't even lock down a species for her. They thought she was Nautolan, but the ears…In the end she was categorized as unknown. She didn't even belong to a species at this point. She was just a prisoner.

"Hey Sparx. Why don't you come sit over here? I could use some mood lighting," one of the other prisoners called out as 3732-B walked through the line to choose her food. She was being watched closely by the guards. She took slow steps and collected small portions of several options and with a sigh she turned to find a seat.

Aside from the ribbing that she received for electric current's attraction to her, 3732-B also received attention because she was a small young woman in a population with mostly old creepy males. There were wolf whistles every time she walked by a table. As she looked around, she found a table completely vacant. Her head was down as she walked towards it. "Calm. Not frightened. Reserved. Not angry. Can't act on fear. Big trouble. No give into anger. Big violence. Just eat. Just eat and leave. No trouble. No violence. No pain."

In the past she had given into the feelings of fear and anger. She had lashed out at other prisoners. Despite her diminutive size of under five feet tall with a lithe physique, 3732-B had done a bit of damage before guards and prisoners outnumbered her. A lot of time had been spent in the infirmary. More time had been spent in solitary. 3732-B hated every inch of her prison. She wondered if that was why the electricity found her.

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Warden's Office, Secret Confederation Detention facility
OBJECTIVE: have a little chat
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: “Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha

A broad-shouldered and equally broad-bellied man wearing the typical Imperial uniform associated with those who worked for the Imperial Confederation's Penal and Correctional division sat down behind the sleek-looking plasteel desk with an alloyplast plaque with the man's rank and name engraved on it. Warden Onifred Braskell was a man who had been one of the more conservative members within the division, claiming that prisoners within any of the heavy-max facilities should be given only two options: to work or to die. He was brutal and stubborn, driven by an imperial zeal which made him many enemies and little friends. despite all of it though, he thought of himself as the emperor in his little own island, this island being the Penal Facility he more or less had absolute control over during the Imperial Confederation's sudden reforms and restructuring.

At each side of his office's entrance, a guard was stationed, wearing the Confederation's best armor and wielding their best weaponry, funds spent well in the warden's eyes, yet as such those very funds weren't used on the ones detained in his facility, leaving them ever underfed and thus always in an agitated state, which for those who were physically weaker than others generally meant compliance in a brutal pecking order facilitated and even encouraged by the Warden's men and their actions.

From within his office, warden Onifred Braskell activated a holoprojection within the facility, his face appearing on all screens and showing itself in an enlarged, blue form within the central hall and mess area, where he displayed a broad, oafishly cruel grin as his eyes scanned the space for a second. "My dear degenerates and scumm of this glorious Imperial Confederation... it has come to my attention that yesterday's riots have managed to gain some notice outside of our little safehaven. However, for those who think this might be in your advantage, you must know that one of the Confederation's top executive members within the Penal and Correctional Division has been dispatched to grace us with a visit."

His eyes turned towards the prisoners, a nod going towards the guards present in the mess hall. "Any misbehavior in the meantime will be severely punished..."

As he closed off the holographic projections, the warden looked at the clock hanging above the door and felt a tinge of nervousness rise through his spine. He had been fine with the current arrangement where his heavy-max facility was left conspicuously alone by most of the higher ups because of the fact that what he got were generally the scum that simply needed to vanish from society. Yet still, he had read the name of the man the higher ups were sending...The Dealmaker, a figure whose presence he had only seen once before. While the Confederation wasn't old or long established, it had taken much of its infrastructure from the Empire of the Lost and its subsequent successor state; the ISA. yet this figure had only rather recently appeared in the records and had already become somewhat of a problem to any and all high ranking members of the division. An agent of the Warden Primus, but without limit, without official rank of their own...nonetheless, someone whose visits have resulted in several... 'changes'.

"Damn...damn that queen Warden Primus," The warden reached for a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle of liquor and a glass, ripping the cork off of the bottle and pouring its contents into the glass, before putting said glass against his lips and taking a large swig of it. "Of all the people, it's that damn clown...that freaky butcher."​

 

[“Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha]

Objective: Keep cool, Avoid detention
Location: Mess Hall, Secret Confederation Detention Facility
Outfit: Tattered Prison Garb
Tags: The Lord of Hunger

The meal, as meager as it was, had been interrupted by a message from the Warden. The prisoner hung her head and dropped her eating utensil. The prison didn't feed their "guests" well at all. But when the face of the person in charge was broadcast to the mess, a unilateral loss of appetite was quick to follow.

As the man's blue hologram continued to speak, prisoner 3732-B-Alpha gave a sigh. He spoke about yesterday's riot. As if there wouldn't be one today no matter what was in the message of this broadcast. 3732-B was happy that yesterday's riot was mentioned as she had nothing to do with it. It had actually been a while since she had physically started one. She was still quite often in the middle of the action. Mostly other inmates taking turns flinging insults and teases at 3732-B until the hostility grew to a physical altercation. Since the population of Alpha detention was a large majority male and physically "superior" to 3732-B, a lot of the time fights developed from one inmate making claims on 3732-B's time only to have that questioned by another inmate.

"Fear, no. No anger. Nerves in check," 3732-B muttered to herself as the broadcast continued. Even though she was not intending to eat the food that was on the table in front, she had picked up the utensil and was playing with the food absently. The Warden announced someone above him from a Confederation, that 3732-B had no knowledge of. Everyone was going to have to be on their best behavior. If the prisoners made the Warden look bad…

"Sparx. You're…sparkin' again," came a growling voice from the background. 3732-B didn't want to pay any mind to what was said. But she heard the static of electricity and could feel the tingle of tiny shocks in places where it got close to her skin. That remark was the most kind thing that was said. "Wonder what it is that makes her spark?" another voice followed. A hand touched her head before the grotesque response came…"I'll try to make her spark after she stops."

3732-B put her head down and tried to ignore it. "No anger. Fear not. All be ok. Biggie wiggie come. Guards need keep order. Sparks stop. Calm….calm….calm…"

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Warden's Office, Secret Confederation Detention facility
OBJECTIVE: have a little chat
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: “Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha

As some time passed, the sound of boots stomping on the crossing catwalks above the prisoner's mess halls and resting area could be heard, with several of the facilities' armed guards awaiting as the heavy doors at the top floor slid open with a loud metallic creak. A single man; thin and tall, wearing a strangely harlequin'esque outfit complete with top hat and smiling mask emerged from the inky darkness beyond those doors, followed suit by two tall, perhaps even more impressive and way more terrifying droids, bearing long red cloaks and black swords in their scabbards which seemed to hum with unnatural power.

"Stand down you lot, I'm here for the inspection," A sneer escaped the man's lips, a twisted, uneven chuckle reached the guards' ears as they nodded and moved across the catwalk, moving quite uniformly towards the office of the warden which had been located at the top floor, safe from most prying eyes and more importantly: removed from the lower floors where the prisoners were located.

"Hmm..." Walking to the side of the catwalk, gripping the durasteel railing with his gloved hands, the strangely dressed man looked down upon the masses below, a pair of vibrant golden and crimson eyes with inhumanly slit pupils looking down upon those who either by law or by force had been put into this detention facility.

"Sparx. You're…sparkin' again,"

"Wonder what it is that makes her spark?"

"I'll try to make her spark after she stops."

He could hardly hear the words, yet he heard them nonetheless, his eyes wondering about, trying to figure out who it was that had been mentioned in these observational words. for a brief moment, the man's eyes rested upon @"Sparx" Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha , peering at her with some sort of glee and intrigue, before suddenly the man disappeared from the railing again, when one of the guards mentioned the warden awaiting him in his office as agreed upon. A tour of the facility may have to wait until the detainees were properly secured...

"I'd love to see the records of this place as well...something has managed to catch my eye this soon..."​

 

[“Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha]

Objective: Keep cool, Avoid detention
Location: Mess Hall, Secret Confederation Detention Facility
Outfit: Tattered Prison Garb
Tags: The Lord of Hunger

Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha knew very little about herself. Even though the questions about her sparking was rhetorical and meant to be a source of ridicule, she could not answer the question if she wanted to. For the most part she found that ignoring such things was the better tactic. In dark corners of the prison that led to some bad things, but out in the open of the mess hall her participation in the ridicule would result in the worst outcome.

As if to accentuate these thoughts, as 3732-B continued to mutter her mantra of remaining calm, heavy footsteps could be heard on the catwalk above. The visitor? 3732-B thought to herself. The surprise inspection would be even more security for the prisoner when she was in the spotlight. Even more reason for her to put her head down and ignore the other prisoners.

As the prisoners continued to gossip about 3732, the girl they were all focused on looked up to the catwalk as the party paused momentarily. The electricity that had sparked between 3732's fingers started to extend further up her arm as she became nervous of the onlookers. The crackle of the sparks grew more erratic. "Bad eyes not on you. Biggie Wiggie keep safe. Fear not. Be calm. Be calm…"

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Warden's Office, Secret Confederation Detention facility
OBJECTIVE: have a little chat
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: “Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha

The guards nodded when they heard the masked man's request, with one of them already moving away in order to retrieve the keycodes of the day for the facility's records' room. In the meantime though, the two remaining guards brought the man to the warden's office, each exchanging glances with the guards whoc were stationed outside of the entrance to said office. While he was following them closely, the Dealmaker as he was commonly known within a very select circuit of people was wondering why he had been so drawn to those prisoners in the mess hall. He couldn't shake the feeling that he must've felt something because there had to be something...but what this something was, or who...remained inconclusive for now.

"Sir Dealmaker, how pleasant to see you," The rotund frame of the Warden, the weight of his voice nearly the same as his own body's proportionate mass practically slathered the masked man as he entered the warden's office. from the first look it was quite obvious that this very official was enriching himself one way or another, with his seat, his desk and even his uniform all having been treated to some luxurious upgrades that have never been sanctioned. "Please, do take a seat. I am honored and excited to be having such an esteemed and distinguished guest in my humble facility."

"Oh...you don't say," The Dealmaker's head tilted so fast and rapid, that his head turned into an unnatural ninety degree angle, the sound of tendons and muscle snapping and ripping could be heard, though perhaps it was just an illusion, a play on the minds of those in the mysterious man's presence. "I've heard a few...unnerving things my little Braskell... You Onnifred, have been skimming some off of the top, haven't you?"

The warden slunk back into his chair, reaching for the collar of his uniform and laughing nervously. "Oh my, what would bring you to say such things?"

"This...isn't sanctioned," The masked man's glove slammed onto the warden's desk, before he waved around his other hand in the air. "You've clearly embellished your office, your chair and desk have been clearly beautified to be more of your personal taste. While this could be forgiven, I have also noticed that most of the security force present have upgraded weapons and armor, both standard issue and non-standard issue material generally reserved for the military and the ISS."

"What...er...what about you than, sir?" The warden jolted straight up, huffing rather angrily. "Your attire isn't exactly up to standard either, is it not?"

"Oh you noticed..." The masked man suddenly clapped his hands together, letting out a chuckle. Within an instant, he had tapped his finger on the desk between himself and the warden. A mere slight tap seemed to be enough to shatter the metal and wooden desk, snapping it in half like some dried out twig. "Would you want to repeat that question? Or shall we just continue with the order of the day..."

"My...investigation into your actions..."

Those words rung in the office like holy bells, silencing the warden and his guards, beads of sweat rolling down the rotund man's face, gently passing his color-drained cheeks, running over his quivering lips.

"Two riots in less than a week, two escapees of A-class classification," The masked man gently reached for one of the chairs, spun it around and sat down with the back support in front of him, allowing him to gently lean forward. "Serious offenders that can only be placed in maximum security facilities like this one, whose capture and detainment are of the utmost priority at all times and which would cost the division, if not the very confederation itself some huge sums of credits in material and manpower."

"I...but I," The warden stammered, sinking pathetically into his comfortable seat, feeling a bit lost in facing this masked individual. "I swear...I did not, I did not facilitate...I mean...I"

"Calm down...while these things do give you a stain on your record...it's not the end of your career," The masked man leaned backwards a bit, looking at the guards posted at the entrance of the office, chuckling slightly. "After all, you're used to dealing with the prisoners, no? You wouldn't have any problem with them...now would you?"

"I...wait, what do you mean?" The warden stammered, as the two guards received a nod from the masked man, walking over to Onifred Braskell without uttering a single word, hoisting him up from his chair by his arms. "Wait, what's the meaning of this? I only did what they all do...I swear, I didn't do anything wrong, I swear...please, what are you doing?"

....

​

The holographic display shuddered in the mess hall, while guards began to run through the facilities, setting themselves up at the exits and entries of the large space. The image of the masked man came into sight, large and looming over the entire prison populace, with all screens within the facility also displaying the masked man reaching for his hat, taking it off and greeting the prisoners.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN"

The man's vibrant golden and crimson eyes became visible on all the screens, filled with glee and amusement.

"YOU HAVE ALL BEEN GOOD BOYS AND GIRLS, DANCING TO THE WHIMS AND WISHES OF YOUR FORMER WARDEN..."

A few of the prisoners in the mess hall would look up, pointing at the catwalk, where the masked man was standing, alongside two guards who where holding someone in between them. Though it was hard to see, the masked man ripped off the Warden's ranking plaques, his pips and studs, his dignity along with it. The rotund man squealed, squawking like a pog roasting in fire.

"NOW SADLY...HE'S ONE OF YOU NOW...SO WELCOME HIM, GRANT HIM A PLACE AT YOUR TABLE AND EMBRACE HIM AS A FRIEND..."

The Masked man's eyes shimmered, perhaps hardly visible for most, but those who were force sensitive, those who even had but the slightest, faintest trace of connection to the living force could feel the sudden sharp and quick ripple within the force, a some sort of static shock upon the emotional impulses, an amplification of fear, hatred...rage...

His hand reached for the Warden's throat. "Onifred Braskell...you are hereby relieved from duty and placed under detention, you have been classified as an A-Class offender...."

"wait wait...I" The warden stammered, hardly capable of swallowing his own spit under the pressure of the masked man's grip.

"WELL WHAT DO I CARE, YOU EITHER EMBRACE HIM...OR YOU KILL HIM..."

With those words, the masked man swung his arm wide, releasing the grip on the warden's throat, allowing the man's rotund body to keel over the catwalk's railing and drop down to the ground of the messhall with a deafening thud and a crack, followed by a loud, somewhat primal squeal coming out of the wounded former warden's throat.

"NOW...WHAT WILL YOU DO?"

 

[Prystill Oasay]

Wrong account

 

[“Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha]

Objective: Keep cool, Avoid detention
Location: Mess Hall, Secret Confederation Detention Facility
Outfit: Tattered Prison Garb
Tags: The Lord of Hunger

The masked visitor and his guards disappeared. One of the facility guards took another direction. Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha continued to mutter comforting words under her breath as her eyes tracked the movements. Once the masked man disappeared into the Warden's office 3732 began to look around nervously. She once again became the focus of the group in the mess hall.

"Don't want none trouble," she whispered meekly as the electricity retreated from her arms to merely dancing between her fingers. "Done eat now. Go back to bed," she continued. The other inmates didn't seem so agreeable to that plan of action. The nerves of the visiting bigwig had caused more electricity than had been seen by the general population in some time. It was apparent 3732's mood had some affect on the "ability".

The attention of everyone shifted however when a loud sound was heard from the Warden's office. Heads jerked in that direction and 3732-B changed her position. She knew leaving the mess was probably pushing her luck, but she hoped that she would at least get a small reprieve. Slipping under a table 3732-B hugged her knees and hoped that nothing really bad was going on in the Warden's office.

As she hugged her knees and waited for things to calm down so she could return to her cell, the holoprojector came to life again. Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha crawled on her hands and knees to peer out from under the table. The visage of the masked visitor appeared and 3732 shuttered with a bolt of electricity trailing up her arm. "Is alright. Fear not. All fine. Biggywiggy not to hurt you."

The voice was…happy? It made 3732 relax just a little bit understanding mania. The voice praised the prisoners, 3732 also didn't understand irony. Then came the shock. The stranger was sentencing the Warden to join the prisoners he had been tormenting.

The Warden was then plunged into the crowd from the catwalk. A table broke the fat man's fall, gratefully not the table 3732 hid under. The other prisoners no longer cared about her. They rushed over to the fallen Warden. They were arguing about what to do. Some said they should kill him. Others said keeping him alive might gain favor with the guards he had commanded. 3732 didn't care what they did. She crawled out from under the table and walked towards the exit, watching to be sure she wasn't being followed.

When she knew the exit was close she turned to find a guard in her way. Quickly stopping a bolt of electricity shot down and then up her entire left side. "I go to cell? Not doing nothing…"

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

LOCATION: Warden's Office, Secret Confederation Detention facility
OBJECTIVE: have a little chat
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword #1 | Sword #2 | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | KRONOS
TAG: “Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha

The commotion was to be expected, the prisoners seemed agitated and elated all at once, brought to bear their own desires and emotions, confronted with a harsh and yet also delightful reality, for in front of their eyes, the man responsible for the hardships they had endured within the facility had been brought low, quite literally and quite dreadfully. yet there were those who looked on, who stayed by the sidelines, looking and observing.

Yet from above, the masked man looked on, his eyes scanning the populace below, watching their actions, their reactions. It was perhaps hardly noticeable, but within those vibrant crimson and golden eyes, there was a hint of amusement, a hint of glee, which in turn betrayed the ruthless, twisted nature that lie beyond the mask. From atop the catwalk, his motions directed the guards below, who at first were tempted to intervene, not knowing what to think of the situation, but in their own retrospection, they knew...they knew if they were to disobey now, they only further proved the rot that had settled within the system. While perhaps not on the same level as the prisoners themselves, the guards were overcome by a similar mixture of emotions; tethering on a chord, balancing between a hopeful future or a long lost opportunity.

"Those three, bring them up," The masked man's gloved hand seemed to wave through the air, pointing at an old man sitting in a corner, calmly eating his meal...if one could even call it such, at a tall, muscular woman simply watching everything going on with a faint smile on her scarred face, and at the blue-skinned young one huddling underneath one of the tables. "I don't care about cuffing them, just bring them up and put the rest back into their cells. Have the guard captain be present as well..."

One of the guards leaned in and seemed to whisper something to the man, after which the masked man let out a chuckle, his eyes turning directly towards prisoner 3732-B. "I see, yes...that may be helpful, send all the data to my pad."

As the masked man turned around and seemed to disappear from the catwalk above, the guards down below started to disperse the groups, the guards who had been on the catwalk started to decsend through the staircases, entering the restricted area that was the messhall, following their orders and taking those who had been pointed at with them. Sparx would find out there were at least two pairs of boots standing next to the table she was cowering under. "Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha, you are to come with us. Behave and no cuffs nor force will be used for detainment."​

 

[“Sparx” Prisoner 3732-B-Alpha]

Objective: Keep cool, Avoid detention
Location: Mess Hall, Secret Confederation Detention Facility
Outfit: Tattered Prison Garb
Tags: The Lord of Hunger

The guards stood their ground in front of prisoner 3732-B-Alpha. She wasn't terribly surprised. The chaos that was happening around her was obviously not of her causing nor had she participated in the "discussion" of the fate of the former Warden, which was still taking place in the center of the mess hall. Even with that being the case allowing her to just leave the area unfettered was not in the norm for the prison, but it was worth a shot.

"Guess I go back sit down. Wait?" the blue-skinned prisoner asked the guards receiving nothing but a blank stare. 3732 sighed. As her anxiety rose the electric bolts danced around her hands and forearms. Since it was obvious she was not leaving she turned to return to a table to hide and wait for things to settle down.

She was under the table for very little time before guards boots stomped into her vision. The guards gave her number and told her to come with them. If she was good they wouldn't cuff her. 3732 sighed. She was never bad. She didn't control the bolts. They just happened. She didn't know why, but she knew the bolts made the other prisoners and guards fear her. And that fear made her a target. It made her appear to be hostile. "I give no probs. I follow easy."

The guards had already gathered up the other two subjects that interested the masked visitor. 3732 did not know either of the two other prisoners. She didn't know what they would have in common. But the guards led all three of them away together. Although the fact that she had no idea what to expect caused her anxiety to rise slightly she started muttering to herself keeping the electricity to a minimum. Afterall, anywhere else had to be better than the mess hall at the moment. Right? "Be ok. Biggie Wiggie took care of Warden. Doing good. No danger. Not to fear. Be ok…"