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Star
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
[Check out the OOC for us please, Our Prison Our Rules. ]
The male stood on the third floor of the prison. Overlooking the yard with cool green eyes hidden under dark black sunglasses, he smiled to himself and took a long drag off his Marlboro Red cigarette. This man was no normal guard, though he wore the same tactical outfit that they did. This man was the key, or rather one of the keys, to the success of this facility. His name was Rayne. The guards called him sir, or warden. The prisoners referred to him as boss. However it was not what Rayne asked to be called. He enjoyed his name, and hearing it from certain people. Inmates and guards alike knew Rayne very well. He was the man who started Endmark prison. A small haze of smoke surrounded the five foot eleven male in the dark blue jump suit. The black bullet proof vest, and other accouterments the only other coloring to the uniform except the patch on the left and right shoulders. The patches bore the insignia of the prison and the rank of the individual in the uniform. With one final drag he put the cigarette out on the bar in front of him and slowly exhaled the light gray smoke. Turning to the door behind him he headed inside. His combat boots causing an echo through the prison as he walked, this was mental tactic used by the guards to keep order let them know you are always there. Something Rayne had came up with a long time ago in this prison of his.
Once back inside he began his rounds, just like every other guard there, he made on a regular basis. His however was a little different. He first went through the Max Sec wing, or Maximum Security Housing Wing, followed by the mess, the dining room, and then finishing in the firm, the infirmary or Medical Wing. He took his time through the Max Sec, watching all of the cells, the different colored jumpsuits the prisoners wore and the way they were behaving. After marking down some notes on a clip board at the end of the hall he continued on. He now moved through the mess, eying the condition of the floor, the walls, the tables and even the serving station itself. Satisfied that it was of acceptable working condition he noted his remarks on the clip board at the gate to the firm. Swiping his key card the gate buzzed and opened. Down the hall he went. Slowly methodically it seemed calculating every step. The firm was the only wing that spanned all three floors of the prison. The first floor for those who had minor wounds, the second for the borderline patience he would need to be taken to a real hospital and the third the floor for guards and psychopaths. Separating the two sections was the large chain link fence that was so common in the local prisons. He made his way to the fence and looked at the chart to see who was on duty that day in which wing of the firm.
The male stood on the third floor of the prison. Overlooking the yard with cool green eyes hidden under dark black sunglasses, he smiled to himself and took a long drag off his Marlboro Red cigarette. This man was no normal guard, though he wore the same tactical outfit that they did. This man was the key, or rather one of the keys, to the success of this facility. His name was Rayne. The guards called him sir, or warden. The prisoners referred to him as boss. However it was not what Rayne asked to be called. He enjoyed his name, and hearing it from certain people. Inmates and guards alike knew Rayne very well. He was the man who started Endmark prison. A small haze of smoke surrounded the five foot eleven male in the dark blue jump suit. The black bullet proof vest, and other accouterments the only other coloring to the uniform except the patch on the left and right shoulders. The patches bore the insignia of the prison and the rank of the individual in the uniform. With one final drag he put the cigarette out on the bar in front of him and slowly exhaled the light gray smoke. Turning to the door behind him he headed inside. His combat boots causing an echo through the prison as he walked, this was mental tactic used by the guards to keep order let them know you are always there. Something Rayne had came up with a long time ago in this prison of his.
Once back inside he began his rounds, just like every other guard there, he made on a regular basis. His however was a little different. He first went through the Max Sec wing, or Maximum Security Housing Wing, followed by the mess, the dining room, and then finishing in the firm, the infirmary or Medical Wing. He took his time through the Max Sec, watching all of the cells, the different colored jumpsuits the prisoners wore and the way they were behaving. After marking down some notes on a clip board at the end of the hall he continued on. He now moved through the mess, eying the condition of the floor, the walls, the tables and even the serving station itself. Satisfied that it was of acceptable working condition he noted his remarks on the clip board at the gate to the firm. Swiping his key card the gate buzzed and opened. Down the hall he went. Slowly methodically it seemed calculating every step. The firm was the only wing that spanned all three floors of the prison. The first floor for those who had minor wounds, the second for the borderline patience he would need to be taken to a real hospital and the third the floor for guards and psychopaths. Separating the two sections was the large chain link fence that was so common in the local prisons. He made his way to the fence and looked at the chart to see who was on duty that day in which wing of the firm.
