Dinner Time [Open]

[Kenelm Blake]

living with the unloved

Who you never really liked and you never trusted

Dinner at Stravend was far from a luxurious, or even comfortable, affair. The food was barely edible, looked worse than it tasted - and sometimes Kenelm suspected it did them more harm than good. The room itself often did a lot of harm. Confining the sorts of people in the prison to one room for a period of time was a recipe for disaster but they continued to force it on them. Under armed guard of course.

The atmosphere in the Galley ranged from toxic and tense to almost normal, sometimes filled with loud voices, a steady hum of speech, or the simple sound of eating and occasional comments. It was hard for Kenelm to imagine anyone ate there without some sort of tension, be it aggressive or simply anxious. He knew he certainly didn't, his shoulders a little hunched. 

Today it wasn't quite so toxic. For now.

He collected his food without any major ordeal, studiously observing everyone by their neck or below, eye contact was often a very, very bad idea for someone his size, and held it tightly as he took it to where he could sit down. It got fairly crowded sometimes and was starting to fill up this evening too. If he was quick, Kenelm could leave before enough people got here for something to break out. 

Taking a seat at one of the empty tables, he had to take a deep breath in preparation. The food they served wasn't even close to good or nice but it was all they really had access too and, as most found out after a day or two, hunger was one hell of a motivator. 

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[felix devont]

'This. Is. Shit.' That was honestly the only thing that Felix could really think as he dragged himself to the cafeteria. Even when he was in school they hadn't eaten shit like this. Well that was probably because he'd been in a private school and if there was anything less than a full course meal available then someone's parent would throw a fit and a half. He remembered one time in year one that a chef had brought in some sort of pre-packaged chicken nuggets. He'd been fired and that was the end of that.  Grabbing the non-threatening tray full of slop that didn't look like anything edible he wondered if this place had the same dynamic as the school cafeterias. "Let's see..." Spotting something that looked like a relatively empty table he sat down across from what looked to be another prisoner. After all who else would be in here? The guards probably had some posh as hell place to eat. "You know in prisons for humans they at least have to give them something edible..." Poking at it he wondered if his faeries could make this into something a little more edible.  It wasn't like the little creatures would really do him much good here. They were tiny and mostly good for just conversation. Then again he could always use them to spy on people in other cells. If they felt like listening to him. He'd been around the little creatures for so long and yet most of the time they still just did whatever they wanted without any regard to what he said. Still he could always hope for some sort of miracle.

LAIKA OF GS!

[IZAYA WILLIAMS]

Back to the usual routine it seemed, the depressing aura that surrounded those that had given up on life clogged Izaya's throat. It was almost enough to make him actually want to go back to solitary confinement. If he pushed his luck too much they might just forget about him and leave him in peace. Unfortunately he still wanted to get out of this place, and that meant not getting into too much trouble, at least not enough to get himself killed - hard as it might be to do that. The mess hall hadn't changed in his brief vacation, not that he exactly expected it to, it would have just been nice to see a change. Maybe a little blue or green paint on the walls, to cover up the dull browns, greys, and reds that stained the dull hall. The guards stood around the perimeter in an attempt to dissuade bad behaviour. Long exposure to constant repetition seemed to turn them all into sheep though, it was fair enough to say the combined force of the Enigmas could cut down the guards in this room. How far they got after that was up in the air, and whether people worked together was the main key flaw in the plan. Too many if's buts' and such to be viable, and the average IQ of a prisoner wasn't all that high.

Izaya sighed, picking up his tray and immediately depositing the contents into a nearby bin. All this depression was annoying the hell out of him, and that just put him off his food. Now without a tray or sustenance, Izaya let his feet take him to a table, where he lay down on the bench and looked to the ceiling. There were yet more red and brown stains there. In fact, Izaya could've sworn that the triangular one had been him, not actually him, but the aftermath of a fight he had been a part of. Maybe...there was definitely a chance. Propping up a leg on his knee, he took out a cigarette and lit it as he usually did. Only then, as his eyes followed the smoke trails, did Izaya notice the other two people at the table.

"Oh, I do beg my pardon, I didn't see you two there. I'm Izaya, and as far as I'm concerned this goes one of two ways. One, you leave this table right now. Or two...you leave this table right now. I don't care if you've got food left, take it with you, I'm not in a good enough mood t----

Are you a girl or a boy..."

Izaya stopped mid rant, rolling over to look at the blonde haired person. They didn't have much boobs, but the face was very feminine. And just because they had small breasts didn't mean they weren't a woman, just like having large breasts doesn't necessarily make a woman. This was a most peculiar experience. Izaya stood up and bent over to look them in the eye.

[Kenelm Blake]

living with the unloved

Who you never really liked and you never trusted

One of the few things that was a bad sign during dinner times was company. More often than not the amount of people present in one space correlated neatly with the amount of people involved in an almost inevitable, invariably violent, disagreement. In general Kenelm had nothing against the other prisoners - most of them - but their presence made him somewhat uneasy. 

So of course he settled his eyes carefully on the newcomer to his table, avoiding looking at their face at first. Unlike some they didn't seem overly muscular, not quite delicate in their physique but unthreatening. Here that might not mean much, but it at least meant a punch in the face was less likely to do as much harm. Their posture wasn't hostile or the sort of relaxed one that often meant more danger than open hostility. After a moment of silent observation, Kenelm blew air out of his nose, a snort one of the easiest ways to show disdain. 

It wasn't worth him pointing out they were less than humans to the people here if he could have. Instead he moved to reach over towards the middle of the table, hoping to attract visual attention to his face. He intended to pose the word 'new' as a question, mouthing it with the careful precision that came from learning it purely by watching the way people's lips twisted and pouted around sounds. 

He didn't get to do anything. He had just started to move his hand when another prisoner joined them and he pulled back into himself, almost knocking his plate off of the table, steadying it subtly just in time. 

A quick glance at the newcomer made Kenelm frown. He was physically larger and denser than the other two there and had that sort of unapproachable, threatening air hanging off his skin. Uncomfortable, and blatantly aware of the threat, he shifted but did not move. Someone with that attitude was trouble, but to scurry about at the whim of every person who acted tough was a death sentence or a miserable life. 

This time Ken laughed breathily, a soft sound, the tips of his lips turning upwards slightly. He turned his head downwards to hide it before it could be seen. Antagonising someone with that sort of attitude was a bad idea - but he seemed to have started antagonising someone else fairly easily so this was headed in one of one directions. 

It was also slightly amusing to see someone get so easily sidetracked. Kenelm lifted his head and, unfazed, lifted some prison food to his lips, swallowed before he could taste it. For now, hopefully, he was a spectator. 

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[felix devont]

Felix wasn't even aware of the fact that the man in front of him wasn't exactly audible. After all he spoke enough for everyone at the table and that was saying something considering the fact that they'd just gotten yet another member to their group. Needless to say the blonde wasn't all that impressed. Well, he was impressed but it was more by the mans physique than the fact that he was spouting out nonsense about them having to move out of the table when he was the clear invader. With a snort he shook his head and poked at the bit of mush once more.  "Or, believe it or not there's a third option. Sit down and eat your mush and try to get along with the two people already here." It figured that they'd get distracted by his gender though... After all the pretty ones never did have much in the ways of brains. Except for himself that is. Sticking his chest in the other man's face though it was apparent that it was flat he gave a shrug. "Depends on the day of the week to be honest, you can still give them a squeeze if you want." He was joking of course and gave the man a look to indicate that if he actually did grab his chest there would probably be some sort of hell to pay. Not that he could really do anything... At best he could summon a fairy that would probably eat the mans food or whatever. If it felt like it. "There's no need to act like an animal during dinner time." He turned himself back to his food and gave a small smile to the man across the table. He sure was quiet. "Name's Felix, they threw me in here a couple days ago for attacking a classmate." If anything he could hopefully avoid mentioning exactly what his power was. He wasn't ashamed of it by any means, he just knew that his company, especially the one with the attitude, probably had a legitimate reason for being able to carry themselves as such.

LAIKA OF GS!

[IZAYA WILLIAMS]

Izaya moved to straddle his seat and looked at the apparent mute. The corner of his mouth curled upwards in a vicious snarl, though his eyes clearly showed there wasn't any major anger there. The strange laugh that came from the small guy was annoying, but he was much more interested in this other person at the moment. Izaya still wasn't sure what he was meant to do in this situation, on one hand this was a very effeminate man, and fairly attractive if he didn't say so himself. On the other hand, he wasn't sure if he was joking or not. Not that it exactly made any difference if it was a joke or not, Izaya did what he wanted, and nobody could stop him.

Moving his body along the bench so he was closer to Felix, a lot closer, Izaya wrapped a hand around his back and pressed a hand on the other mans breast, smirking only a couple of inches from his face. It was a fluid motion, though there was only a little bit of pressure and Felix could have undoubtedly broken free if he really wanted. Izaya squeezed.

"Not bad, a little flat, but breasts aren't everything are they? There are plenty of times when I can be an animal outside of dinner time too y'know." He whispered to Felix, ending with a wink.

Izaya pushed himself away with a chuckle, he stopped straddling the bench and went back to a fairly normal position, looking between the two others with an odd content look on his face, though still with the smirk. He'd have been lying if Izaya had said he wasn't undressed Felix with his eyes, but he wasn't one to lie anyway, and it wasn't exactly subtle.

"I got thrown in here a looooong time ago. Something about being this sexy while driving caused accidents. They told me to stop driving 'cus it was a hazard to other people being so damn hot. I didn't listen, ended up being put in here. Sad story I know."

The kid was still a bit of an irritation though. Just sitting there, all mute and still. With that awkward expression his face, and that damn soundless laugh. Izaya already decided he didn't like this kid, yet another one to add to the books. The long long books of people Izaya was going to get rid of at one point or another. They ranged from the milkman to the prime minister of Belgium, or whoever was in charge of that blasted country.

[Kenelm Blake]

Like watching an uncomfortable porno

Kenelm could barely believe what he was seeing. He, amongst others, came to dinner guarded and ready to do what had to be done to avoid or distance themselves from conflict. They lived and breathed violence and tension; flirting and playing around was almost alien. 

But lo and behold these two seemed fairly apt at it. In a sense it was hilarious and he did notice that as he watched them his expression lifted a little, albeit more to that of a raised eyebrow than much else. 

To an extent the blonde man dealt with the antagonisation well, Izaya taking it possibly a little too far in his eyes. Whether or not anyone here was attractive, that was just... at dinner?

Felix, he attached the name to the face even if it would prove ultimately useless to him, seemed fairly friendly though, and Kenelm returned the smile, his own slightly lopsided, the right side of his face lifting a little less. He would have introduced himself in return but getting a word across would have been hard anyway. He lifted his hand to his chin subtly, as if to lean on it, and then closed his fingers in a squashed 'oh' shape, an understated 'shut up' and his version of muttering under his breath. 

Another sign, performed with no subtlety, emerged at Izaya's claim he was some sort of super attractive man. Attractive though he might well appear physically, he sounded like an old man attempting to pick up someone half his age. He curved his hand so his fingers lay straight at a ninety degree angle to his palm and moved it slightly in front of his mouth, lips moving to match the meaning of the word. Liar.

But the movement might well be significant enough to ensure Felix's eyes were on him and, taking the chance, he introduced himself wordlessly. Mouthing his name was somewhere between impossible and very difficult so he took a different approach. By annunciating the hard consonant sounds in the word he pushed out air in a sharp, clicky 'C' sound, the rest of the mouthed name breathy. To clarify he touched his throat and then made a sharp swipe in front of him. 

Whether or not he managed to get his name across he wasn't sure, and he wasn't sure whether or not they would even bother to include him since he couldn't offer anything vocal. but he decided that if Izaya continued he was going to wind up returning some of that attitude with his cutlery and gruel. 

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