Jessica just got immediatly excited about someone outside giving her some kind of attention. She was there since days and her natural superficial careless approach was put on probation. She waved to the woman trying to convince her to came closer.
Hei there! do you have a cigarette? said with heavy italian accent.
She didn't replied to the "takin advantage" subject the moman mentioned but she addressed a meaningful glance to the group of prisoner at her shoulder
This message was last edited by the player at 12:13, Thu 20 Feb 2014.

Janice scrunched up her face when the prisoner addressed her so carelessly and on such a sinful subject. Sure she herself puffed a cigarette now and again, but she was a grown woman. This young thing in the prison was a tobacco fiend on top of being a prisoner and on top of being a shady Italian or err Spaniard.

The portly woman's sympathetic demeanor had dissolved almost instantly and she rapped her knuckles against the bars, creating a loud clattering sound of bone on steel, hoping to disturb the young lady. "How dare you ask me such a thing!" Her eyes were aflame with malice and judgement, her predatory instinct enthralling her subconsciously with the prospect of someone helpless and caged.

"Now speak up you Spanish fly and tell me what you're doing here or I'll tell the Fort people you were trying to escape." Janice threatened, her voice low and almost hissing, her heavy cheeks tightening as she supplied a churlish grin. "Now play ball or I'll see to it that they hang your sorry immigrant ass! Start with your name!"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 04:42, Fri 21 Feb 2014.

Jessica winced back. She was observing the woman even before they were talking and she had the impression she was a bit weird but she wasn't expecting such an aggressive reaction. Immediatly changing approach she decided for a submissive attitude. I am sorry Ma'am. My name is Jessica. They locked me here with... no reason Ma'am. I was just trying to survive, desperatly, as every one some shinig tears appeared in her big dark latin eyes I beg you Ma'am. Help me! Men try to fondle me here. I dont know how to defend me by their sinful ambushes.
Jessica spoke this last words almost whispering. She was aware someone in the cell would have listen about the bullshits she was telling.

The intense, chubby woman regard Jessica carefully, her dark brown eyes darting as she read the imprisoned younger woman's body language with the scrutiny of border security. She was caught between letting her racism get the best of her, or twisted beliefs against the male gender. Janice didn't want to believe that Jessica was telling her the truth, but then again the poor girl began crying and reminded her of Suzy.

"Calm down, Suzy, calm down, we'll get you out of here soon enough." It was notable how Janice made no attempt to apologize for her violent outburst against the Italian born woman.

"I just got here, but I can try and find a way to get you out. I'm afraid I can't trust most of my people, they are mostly whores and foreig-..erm, fools. Allies had been scant among the Caravaners. Janice had endeared herself to zero fighter types and the only friends she had were non-violent types who had died in The Tower back in the city.

"How did they catch you, who were you with before this place?"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:45, Sun 23 Feb 2014.

Jessica used the time the woman was talking to istinctively study her facial mimicry. She wasn't a psychologist but just someone used to make use of other’s feelings and desires for her own purposes. Hard to decipher which were the real thoughts beyond that mask of stress and frustration.

"Not a surprise you haven’t any power." She told to herself "Whoever would take in consideration the opinion of this unscrewed bigot?"

Whoever was this Suzie she didnt try to correct the woman about her error. She, at least, said something about takin her out of there. She had to make an attempt.

“Ma’am. Thank God, you are not from this place. Everyone here consider me an object and nothing else.
But you are free and you look like an influential person. I’m sure they will pay attention to what you say.”

Jessica had not many cards to play. She was also concerned that exaggerate in adulation and moralism referrments could make the woman feeling mocked.
“There’s no reason me to be here. They can’t justify this unjust punishment” She finally said wiping a tear from her tanned wellshaped cheeckbones.
Janice was the last type of person she would have asked for help in everyday life. But she had no choice.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:03, Sun 23 Feb 2014.

Janice clearly liked getting her ego stroked, even when she wasn't quite sure the compliments were legitimate. "Well I was runner up at my Middle School prom for Queen." She flattered herself, practically fawning over her own delusional past before reasserting her wandering, erratic attention to Jessica.

"I'll figure something out, I'll talk to some of the whores from my group, I'm sure they'll be more likely to agree with me than those rapist men that all men are." Janice almost teetered into another half rage half confused rant before she caught sight of an Asian man escorting that disgusting Doctor Vega across the compound towards the stockade.

"Dear Lord, someones coming. He has the man that kidnapped our group before we came here. I hope they string him up like a draft dodger!" She shifted her ample weight, considering her options and then quickly reaching up her dirty, loose fitting sleeve.
The harshly pious woman slipped the object, her switchblade, inbetween the bars to Jessica before turning to get away before she was noticed speaking with the prisoner. "Use it if anyone gets too close."

-to Fort Exterior

Jessica observed the movements of the woman half listening to her weird words. She wasn’t expecting the kind of help she received but her reflexes were as trained as everyone after months of daily life risks. She quickly move her leg hiding the kinfe under the sole of her pointy cowboy boots helped by the wide flare bottom of her jeans.
Focused on this she didnt care that much about the men the woman was pointing at. As soon as Janice moved away she turned and emitted a sigh of faked frustration letting herself falling seated down on the ground. Doing this she was able to finally recover the switchblade and hide it inside her left boot.

Vega spoke not a word as Saito lead him to the stockade. He walked as though his actions weighed heavily on his shoulders. Vega did not resist being brought into the cell, simply walking in and seating himself in the corner. As the metal bars closed before him, Vega sat silently, appearing to be deep in thought. He stared at the floor, paying no attention to the woman in the cell next to his.

Doctor Vega's face caught some light, shining through the windows. His face was bruised and spotted with blood. His dark, creepy eyes were pointed at his feet, unmoving.

Fascinated by the unusual aspect of the new cell guest she got closer to the grate dividing the two cell to have a better look.
This action causes her breasts, wrapped in the tight denim shirt, to get seudctively pressed on the cell bars.
Smiling, with her eyes invisible due to the wide shadow of her hat she observed the man.
He look weird, weird and dangerous she thought The kind of man who has not fear to do what necessary to survive.

she tried to attract his attention

Hey...   she said almost whispering be noticed by him but not many others

Hey you.... she repeated observing the wicked eye of the man

Definitly she thought He could be my exit from this nightmare
This message was last edited by the player at 10:48, Tue 04 Mar 2014.

Vega kept his pose until Saito left the jail. As he became suddenly alone (other than the presence of his fellow prisoner) for the first time since the attack in St. Louis, Vega let out a very soft laugh through his nose. Just this morning Vega was participating in world-class research to save humanity from the brink of extinction. He had electricity, running water, the use of a computer, and a staff of dedicated people under his command. Now he sat in this dark jail cell, running the sole of his Oxford shoe across the dirt floor. Vega smiled a strange, self-satisfied smile.

"Hello there." Vega spoke softly to the woman speaking to him from the adjacent cell. He did not whisper, but kept his voice low. Vega stood and came face to face with the woman. "My name is Vega." He offered his hand through the bars to greet the woman.

Cookie sauntered over to the stockade, looking for anyone that might be a guard, and thus able to direct her further.  "Yo !" she said, waiting for a response.

As Cookie approached the Stockade there appeared to be no guard on the outside making a show of force. However there was some movement beyond the gate barring further entry into the cell door area.
When the Caravaner called out for attention the gate shifted and a tall, rugged and generally insalubrious man stepped into view, pushing open the door but standing in the way. He wore a mangy old hat, the words covered by blood and mud.

"Why hey there Muffin." Sam grinned a yellow smile before spitting tobacco juice across Cookie's foot. He wore dirty old clothes, probably the last that Cookie had seen him in sometime back. A bowie knife was sheathed to his belt, the buckle undone for easy retrieval. Sam appeared otherwise unarmed, but one never knew with him.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:13, Wed 19 Mar 2014.

In reply to Sam (msg # 15):

Cookie batted her eyelashes at him, putting on her 'give me lots of tip money' smile.  This was not the time to show attitude back as she wanted something from the jerk.  It was all about means to an end and she figured honey caught more flies than vinegar.  "Hiya, just wanted to see somebody in the lockup, 'zat okay wit you ?"

In reply to Cookie (msg # 16):

The large southerner's eyes dared Cookie to do or say anything, and he was disappointed when she didn't take the bait. His grin widening a little, the nefarious individual slowly closed some distance between himself and his former fellow Caravaner. Sam came to a stop right in front of her, perhaps a little too close. "You left me for dead, bitch." He sneered suddenly, his breath terrible, keeping his voice low. His eyes shifted quickly to see if Toby was watching before matching Cookie's once more. Perhaps he'd seen Toby. He stood down, somewhat.
"..Sure, you can see a prisoner. I have to be there too, though. Safety and shit."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:44, Sun 23 Mar 2014.

In reply to Sam (msg # 17):

"Oh, I knew you'd be JUST fine," Cookie said, fearlessly smiling back at him, though she was itching to see what she had left by way of muscle to power the slugger...and this was a human.  Well, sort of...she was starting to make exceptions now for killing - or at least a beatdown.  And being called a bitch was sort of completely normal for the New Jersian, so that was easily shrugged off.  "Lead the way, Sam, thank you."  she said, keeping the tone light.

Sam kept his crazed gaze locked with Cookie's for a few uncomfortable seconds before he relented further. The ragged Southerner stepped away from her and gave her her space back, though she hadn't acted as if he'd taken it in the first place.

"Yea yea.." Turning his back to Cookie he led the short distance into the stockade, through the metal gate, with the guard-apparent locking it behind them.

Giving a snort in the direction of the appropriate cell door, he approached it, taking his sweet ass time.
"Hey dead-man, you got a visitor." Sam called out to the prisoner before unlocking and opening the door, ushering Cookie in ahead of him, "After you." His yellow smile revealed itself again. He really did intend to sit in on the conversation.

Cookie rolled her eyes, but made sure it wasn't in front of the crazy guy...to be more clear, the crazy STUPID guy, not the crazy smart guy, aka Vega.

"Hey," she said chirpily, "I hear you know a lot about science.  Maybe you can tell me about your theory about the, well, uh, undead walking around thing ?"  A scientist always has a theory.

Vega sat in a dark corner of the cell, his back against the wall and his feet up on the "bed" (if you could even call it that.) "Why don't you tell me, Maxine, your theory on human rights after the end of civilization?" Vega leaned forward, revealing the layers of bruises and cuts on his face, all of different ages, starting with those received from his fight with Hector, to fresh cuts and a bleeding nose obviously incurred early this morning. His wrists were raw and red, clearly from being restrained. But Vega was not restrained now... The man's skin was pale, a feature that now more than ever set apart the darkness of his eyes. His face was covered in dark stubble and his hair was a mess, crusted with dried blood. "I haven't eaten in three days. I'm not much in the mood for science right now." And with that Vega laid his head back against the wall.

The imposing southerner sneered at the prisoner, not amused by Vega's attitude. Surely he'd taught him to mind his manners these last few days. Apparently not. "What'd I tell you about manners, dead man?" Sam made a fist, cracking a few knuckles for effect. "When we ask you questions, you answer them, boy." Sam took a step towards Vega, implying imminent abuse if he didn't answer Cookie's questions.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:48, Sun 30 Mar 2014.

In reply to Sam (msg # 22):

"Gee, that's too bad, Doctor," Cookie said, a glitter in her eyes that belied her sweet smile and sugary tone.   She wouldn't ask where he got her name; she never used it, which meant he had access to information not readily available to the general public. "I have DEFINITE theories on human rights, including redemption.  I might also let him kill you, so I could demonstrate my thoughts to you - and then I'd smash in your undead skull.  Or you could spend the last bit of time you have telling me who you are, why you did what you did, and who gave you the authority, the supplies, and the manpower to do it all ?" 

Vega stood from his dark corner and rushed the cage. He was face to face with Cookie, completely ignoring Sam's threats. "Why don't you go and get me some of that breakfast out there. While you're there, talk to Lyle and Hector. I'm sure they can fill you in on the little details. But for now, I'd rather sit here and await my death than talk to you. Go take your ten dollar smile and your cock-sucker attitude and go see someone who gives a fuck." Vega returned to his bed and laid his head down. "Bring me something to eat and maybe we'll talk."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:05, Mon 31 Mar 2014.

The slovenly southerner was unamused by the prisoner's rush to the bars of the cell within a cell. Sam did the scaring in the Stockade, not the prisoners.
Sam showed no hesitation in his actions as he unlocked the second cell door leading into Vega's cage. Advancing on the prisoner he leveled a steel toed boot into Vega's laying form, aiming for the stomach.

"What'd I tell you, boy!? What'd I tells ya!?"

Vega absorbed the kick with his belly, forcing a painful "ugh" from his mouth. If three days of beatings hadn't prepared him for this moment, then they were for nothing. Vega sprung forth landing a left hook to the side of Sam's head. The punch was certainly not the best Vega had ever thrown. Three days of abuse and without food left Vega's strength leaving a lot to be desired, depending on which side of it you were on... But Vega didn't let up. He'd keep swinging until Sam or someone else stopped him.

Cookie had only moved back when the fighting started; an icy cold hatred was running through her, such as she'd felt when the initial theft of her people had begun.  She watched Vega as if he was some kind of interesting insect she was debating crushing.  Then she thoughtfully raised the bat, waited until Sam was out of the way, and smashed Vega with it as hard as she could, which was considerable, given her anger at the present moment.  She'd thought about what Toby might say about this, and decided that payback was a bitch, and so was she.

Sam was surprised by the initial smack that the prisoner dealt him. It knocked his dirty old cap right off his head, revealing that Sam's hair was as greasy as his beard. "Son of a bitch." The southerner growled, quickly adapting, pusing Vega back slightly and stepping back as well so he could cock a fist. Before he could swing it, however, Cookie slammed her bat into the prisoner.

It surprised Sam, who smiled, delighted with the surprise. Licking his lips he urged Cookie to continue, "Get em again, beat him like a mangy dog! Kill em! Learn em a lesson for what he done."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:18, Wed 02 Apr 2014.