whitetwoguns

[Blip! Network feed starts now! The whole picture is gray at first and color filters in. There's something about the quality though, it is like a retro film in need of restoration. A young man is walking through a hallway. The camera is perched at the back of the young man's full head of dark brown hair. It's shaggy and needing to be combed. He's got other things to worry about like walking through the hallway. There are windows but they're up high. Footsteps echo and now and then there are shoulders on either side of him, bigger and taller.

A song is playing, distorted and echoing and in down right shitty radio quality. A rumble starts, at first it's like an earthquake. The young man's shoulders hunch a little. That's no earthquake. It's a slew of voices. A guard is at the door and he nods to the shoulders on either side of the young man before opening the door with not one, but three keys.

Another hallway. On each side are cells. The music is over. There are jeers and shouts.

"White meat, incoming!"

"My, my, my."

"Don't look at me small fry, don't fucking look at me. I will cut you."

"If your mama could see you now, fucker."

And it keeps going. Clearly this is not a high activity facility, it all looks dated.]

[ooc; backdated to the 26th!!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I know it. I usually would not be sharing that.

What were you in for?

[Please don't sat murder.]

[Woah. Shit. Is it warm in here.]

I got all that behind me, don't you worry none.

People who usually say things like that usually have something to worry about. And I'm a professional worrier.

You've got me caught in how to answer now because I don't want to insult your profession and put you outta work.

Insult away. I don't get paid in cash for worrying.

Was it bad?

Tarnish the reputation then.

The slammer's not good. I didn't kill if that's what you're meaning to ask.

[And an audible sigh of relief. You're still a good guy in her eyes, Larry. Or Mr. White. Or Frank. Whatever.]

That's what I was asking.

[Back then of course he didn't kill anybody. He was still just a kid. Sorry for the fib, Angie. Mr. White would like to think that in your own way, you'd understand....even if it's likely that you wouldn't.]

It was a tough time all the same.

[Her morals aren't exactly black and white, more like a shade of gray that falls randomly somewhere on the color spectrum. She doesn't agree with people who kill just to kill. But when it comes to people who kill in self-defense or to protect others, it's a totally different story then. It's even more different when it's her friends doing it. Then she understands completely and lets it lie.]

But you made it through and stayed out. That has to stand for something.

[You never can tell these days. Besides, going a year without revealing his real name and not too much else who knows what kind of information will have a big deal reaction with...anyone. This sets a tired man at some ease.]

Yeah.

[Even though thinking about being there at all is a nightmare.]

Sorry you saw that.

Don't be. I've seen worse when I closed my eyes.

[Wait. What? Who would ever?]

You don't deserve that at all.

No one does, but it comes with the job.

[Even on non-curse days, she still has those nightmares.]

Come again?

Forensic facial reconstruction. It's what I did at home and thus, lots of dead people, dead bodies, and horrific stories that came along with them.

That would be grizzly.

A lot more than that, to be honest.

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