Settling down

[MACKO SILPHEED]

Macko strode into his room for the first time, then -much to the dismay of the guard- turned around, walked out, and looked down over the railing into the lobby. He frowned then walked back inside, crouched down and placed his finger on the middle of the floor. At first nothing happened but then it became evident he was making his finger heavier and heavier, eventually the floor cracked.

"Hey stop that! you're not supposed to damage your cell!" The guard hastily tried to lift his hand away from the floor but found it impossible to do so.
Macko ignored her until he had fully stood up, he then faced her "You want me on the ground floor." He said in the sort of voice that doesn't require arguing with.
"It's not policy to change a prisoner's assigned room without a valid reason." Came the textbook response.
"I have no control over my ability when i sleep, I can weigh less than a feather, or several dozen tonnes, all depending on where my dreams take me. That floor cracked at about 600kg, I'll sleep on the ground floor or I'll get there anyway in a far more destructive manner." Again he spoke with resolute certainty.

With a reluctant look the guard lead him down to the lowest level "here you go then," she said in a slight huff, the job had already taken 3 times longer than it usually would.

Macko looked around at his surroundings, they were better than the shelter he had in the woods, but concrete is harder to settle into than dirt. He decided to try anyway, throwing the bed and mattress against the wall (they certainly wouldn't survive a night) and lay down on the bare floor. With slight concentration he increased his density until the ground below him cracked and buckled, he shuffled around so eventually an imprint of where he lay was dug into the ground, about 3 inches deep at it's lowest point. This was how he preferred to sleep, half consumed by the earth, and so for the first time in his new life he fell into a deep slumber.

[ELYSIA KARAHALIOS]

Two years of this damned prison. Two years of forgotten memories. And two damn years of living in a cold, pent up hell hole. 

Open hours in the prison were always nice to enjoy. Sure, the warden was not exactly her cup of tea, that German who...woman. But, at least in the time she had arrived, Elysia had given her credit in given the prisoners some privileges instead of none at all. 

Through the barren walls, cells open on the left side of her, the young woman casually walked through the main 'housing' area of Stravend. Many of the enigmas had gone out to the recreational center or were taking a shower right now. So, the sound level was bearable; only the whispers of the guard disturbing any silence. 

Hands behind her back, Elysia watched the doors. If she had her way and could even have an sense of control, she'd take her sweet ass time and figure out how the doors worked with her powers – granted it would be harder than hell to do. But that was for another day – and with the Watch Tower there....god's she was not going to fucking have herself killed over something trivial. 

Down the stairs she went, her feet clanging against the metal, and arrived on the second floor. Maybe she would go outside, maybe train, who knew. Elysia had plenty of time before the next Dead End to figure out. However, upon reaching the floor, a man with lighter hair was being harassed by the guards. It seemed there was a new prisoner. Then again, most of the guards were assholes anyway. From the stairs, Elysia leaned on the poll, observing how they streated the man and how he reacted. If there were one thing about living in Stravend for two years, watching new people always killed time. 

The conversation seemed to take a slight turn for the worse, but the guards expression turned angered yet understood consequences of whatever the man had said. Silent, she paced behind them. A creep she may be, but Elysia was interested on what was to come. 

The conversation between the other two did not last long until the guard moved from the new room. Eyebrows furrowed, she slinked towards the room the male was put into before hearing a clunk against the wall. Did this man have anger issues? Rubbing her chin, she wouldn't blame anyone for being angered they ended up in the hell hole. 

“Oi are you...” she asked, a minute or two later, figuring the thrashing about was finished. 

….What the hell was she looking at? The man from before was in the ground, sleeping in no more than a mere...how? How could she fathom how some could sleep so soundly? As the doors were still open, Elysia kicked on the door, leaning against the metal bars. 

“Hey, asshole. You know if you sleep right now someone might come up here and strangle you in your sleep, right?”

[MACKO SILPHEED]

Macko didn't even open his eyes as he responded. "I'm not that easy to kill, I managed to dig a hole 3 inches deep in reinforced concrete, you'd think i knew what i was getting myself into falling asleep with the door open."

Macko opened his eyes then shifted his weight slightly, almost imperceptibly, he proceeded to spring forward faster than Elysia could follow. He never made contact but the sharp intake of breath in shock was enough to know he'd gotten his point across. Macko's fist hovered a hair's breadth from her forehead.

Macko took advantage of the silence "Oh and to strangle me they would have to hold me down for a few seconds. Trust me the police learned very quickly not to do that when capturing me, 7 cops later they started to rely on lucky shots from a dart gun."

Macko turned around and fell backwards into his makeshift bed. He didn't make any attempt to slow his descent and landed with a resounding crunch in the stone. More cracks radiated outward.

[IZAYA WILLIAMS]

It was a return trip from another stay in solitary confinement. Chains around his legs, arms and neck. Blindfolded, with gloves over his hands, and padded shoes to prevent any vibration. The precautions these people took to deal with Izaya was ridiculous. He hadn't even really done anything this time, it was just a little fight between prisoners, they had had a disagreement and Izaya had sorted it out. Admittedly the other party had been rushed into hospital with a ruptured stomach, but that really wasn't Izaya's problem.

There was a click of a key in a keyhole, the grating of the key turning, and the crash of iron on the ground. The blindfold was removed and light blinded Izaya for a few moments. More clashes as the rest of the bindings dropped to the ground, the padded shoes were removed, as were the gloves. Izaya picked a cigarette out of practically nowhere, lighting it with his finger friction. The guard seemed about to argue with Izaya, but one look at the unbound hands, the potential that they held, and he thought again.

Inhaling deeply, Izaya looked around at the current prisoners in the immediate vicinity. Most avoided eye contact, others stared back with malice. Izaya smirked at them, they were all pitiful. Sure they had power, but they were still too terrified to do anything with it. Bloody cowards. They didn't deserve to live.

There were a pair that drew his attention further than the rest though. One he recognised, though not by name, she hadn't made herself known enough for her name to be obvious to Izaya. Though he wasn't sure whether the opposite would be true. The other was a man, a new prisoner it seemed. It would be interesting to see how he faired in the coming days. Ally, enemy, or neutral, that was the way it went in his head, and really that was all that mattered. The man approached the pair, staring purely at the new guy, the fresh blood, the pathetic meatsack that didn't know what kind of seven hells this place could be.

First he addressed Elysia. "He new? Name? Ability?"

Then Macko. "So shitstick, what are you in for? I'm intrigued, and I like knowing what's what."

The more he found out now, the less he would have to find out later, and that made his life a lot easier. If this man ever required killing, better to come up with a decent plan before that time came around. Sticky situations were not Izaya's forte, as we can see from Red Saturday. Heh, good times.

[ELYSIA KARAHALIOS]

Well, wasn't this man the cheery one? His explanations were as blunt as a sword used one too many times. The sides of her bangs moved as the force of his body came closer towards her. Golden eyes staring at the fist, she snuggled her finger in there slightly before taking a step back. And of course, he let her after moving. 

“That s--” Elysia's gaze darted towards the male that had started talking. He appeared awfully familiar. What wasn't he one of the ones that had gotten into the fights? Eh, like she cared. Prisoners knew to stay out of other's businesses if it did not involve them – most of the time. And spilled milk was not her style. 

Running her hand through her hair, she huffed at the other. Rude, much. But in prison, who the hell time for manners at this day and age. Smirking, the woman knew the direction and tone of his voice – it was towards her. No way would he say 'he new' to the new guy. Clicking her tongue, Elysia talked to him like she would anyway. 

“Jackass, he just got here. You think I know a damn thing about him.” Pointing to the figure on the ground, she giggled. “Just laid back done without giving a damn about I wanted to say and...” 

And there he went off talking again, interrupting everything she was about to say. Eye twitch and a swat on the head later, she continued. The taste in her throat. A shiver up the spine would be a good way to explain her feeling towards what he just said. Never, ever again would she let him use that. Sure as hell, Elysia did not know him well – but that mouth was worse than hers. 

“Really, did you just....” Running her face down her hand, she just wanted to quit at life right now. But there were still things to do with the living. So, the gods that be were keeping her down here a little bit longer. But the man did make a point about knowing who was who in the prison. Even as an 'oldie', that took prescendent over all others. Better chances in the Dead End meant a somewhat better life – even if meant killing almost everyone you had known.

“Instead of asking about that shit.... how about we act normal, you ass?” She retorted. “Like before, name and ability? And the hell did you get locked in here for?”

[MACKO SILPHEED]

Macko laughed. "Well that's certainly to the point, my name is Macko," he said . "As for my ability I'm pretty good at throwing my weight around, guess I don't have to say much more than that, lets keep some surprise eh?"

"As for how I got here," he continued "you saw that, I had an argument with the guard and she decided I didn't deserve such a high up room, said it would make me think 'too highly of myself'. Then she threw me in this dump." Macko gestured proudly to his new cell, Elysia gave him an annoyed stare. "Oh i know you meant how did i get in the prison, well that's altogether far more unsavoury. I was a hitman known as 'Macko of the Leaden Fist', I know it's catchy right? Anyway I was at large for 8 years, I got through 223 marks, and killed 29 cops that were sent to catch me.

"Do you know what they had to resort to? They shot at me with a sniper loaded with tranquilizer darts, they were afraid to be in the same building with me. One lucky bastard landed one after they got a tip-off who my mark was. Before it took full effect i managed to bring the whole block of flats down. Good times and 112 more corpses to my name." Macko took in a deep breath and strode past them into the hallway.

"They threw me in here in the hope they'd never see me again. They probably won't, I like it here, someone people here might even pose me a threat" Macko glanced over at Izaya, completely disregarding Elysia as if she wasn't worth his time. It was a far more subtle rebuke but he knew she'd love the spotlight, and this would piss her off far more than any insult.

"How about you then Izaya, how has your life gone in comparison?" Macko laughed, leaned against the wall and started lifting his arms as if he had a set of dumbbells. His muscles tensing under some invisible weight. "Oh and by the way, what's the food like here? I'm hungry..."

[IZAYA WILLIAMS]

This guy was already getting on his tits. This guy couldn't stick his nose up his own arse any further if he tried. 'Macko the Leaden Fist', it sounded more like the name of some kind of perverted porn star than a hitman. Then again, if he got the job done all was fair and good. Though for sure Izaya wasn't ever going to hire anyone with 'fist' in their name, way too lewd for his tastes. On the bright site he obviously wasn't a total moron as he managed to not full disclose every piece of information about his ability, though from the sounds of it he had some power over weight, and from the signs in his room it might not be related to gravity. Which to be totally honest was probably a good thing, gravity was a difficult thing to combat, weight on the other hand, was not.

Izaya smirked at Elysia. "Ass? You like my ass? Funnily enough that statement is completely related to how I wound up in here. Turns out having such a tight, firm, beautiful ass causes women to swoon here, there, everywhere. I couldn't walk five metres without someone's panties dropping. Sadly apparently that was illegal, which quite frankly I find ridiculous, and so they threw me in the slammer."

Turning his attention back to Macko, Izaya's expression turned from light hearted to a look of complete disdain and uncaring. This guy already knew his name? Then did he know the truth about why he was here? From what he had heard, the police department had covered up Red Saturday fairly well, but if someone knew his name...and knew about that...this guy would have to be eliminated as soon as possible. Threats deserved no mercy, best be certain first though.

"How the fuck do you know my name? Answer fast before I blow your brain out the back of that meat -pop you call head." Izaya snarled, his hands clenching into fists. It might have been a front, but it was one that did it's job, no need to let people see how easily he could keep his calm. Lies like this would make Dead End so much easier to win.

"Regardless of how you know, that's not how you address me in here. Mr Izaya, Sir, anything like that. I've been here a hell of a lot longer than you, and damn right I deserve the respect for it.

...foods abso-fucking-lutely terrible by the way."