Jail-House Bitch (books and Magi)

[Inwiththebooks]

Harkin. A moon that orbits a distant and barren desert planet many light-years from civilized society. It is here on this desolate rock that one can find the Harkin Penal Correctional Facility, home to the worst refuse to dwell in the galaxy. On one side of the moon was the facility that housed the female population and on the other was the male population. The initial area one might see for either one on the surface consisted of a docking area, and a somewhat large building. Hardly enough to house a hundred people, let alone the large population of Harkin.

The majority of either facility was below the surface of the moon, massive spiraling structures and cell blocks that could house thousands. Once one entered either facility they would only leave one way, in a body bag shot out into space from the docking bay. The worst of the worst made their homes here, murderers, rapists, terrorists, and pirates. Harkin was also very loosely controlled by either warden, both possessing control over their respective facilities but choosing not to overly hamper crime. As such the prison moon was a paradise for those with the blackest hearts and cruelest minds, those who delighted in their crimes rather than feeling shamed by them.

One such criminal was located in the female population, observing some of the view screens near the mess hall. She was tall to be certain, standing a head above most of the women and possessing a lean build with well-honed muscles. Her tanned flesh was marred here or there with crisscrossing scars and possessed dark spiraling tattoos that snaked down her arms. Her dark hair was cut just below her shoulders and kept in a short ponytail with her bangs kept out of her green eyes. Her orange prison shirt was wrapped around her waist as a sort of belt for her orange pants, her thin white shirt doing little to obscure the black bra underneath.

Jora was her name, a name that conveyed fear inside and outside these walls. A terrorist of some renown, Jora was sentenced to live out the rest of her natural life in this prison over two years ago. The twenty-eight year old had caused quite a bit of mayhem and carnage, to the point where new meat brought in still knew of her. Blowing up the Congressional Hall was probably why, her most satisfying job really. She didn’t see why people raised such a big fuss about that, politicians were like flea. No matter how many you squished between your fingers more would bite at your scalp.

Currently today was the day when new meat arrived and most were gathered around the monitors, looking at who would be joining them. Jora possessed little interest in the whole thing; half would be dead in a week anyway. Though she supposed some of the spectators might be gang recruiters on the lookout for more members. Jora did not have that problem as she was not a part of any of the gangs. None of them seems to want to take an unstable terrorist into their midst. So she lived the life of an independent, well-paying really.

Jora turned away from the screens as the shuttle arrived, heading towards the line of people getting their food. She offered a nod to one of the guards who returned it, Amelia, one of her more reliable contacts in the guards. Early twenties but a pretty damn good shot and a sight for sore eyes. She wore that riot armor well and could swing that shock stick of hers around pretty damn well. Jora turned her gaze back to the food, picking out her usual fare of grey sludge and water and heading to the table. If she thought about it real hard the stuff tasted like mashed potatoes.

 

[Magi_monk]

The shuttle decreased its speed, the humming of the engines becoming more pronounced as it neared its assigned docking station. Within, the new inmates sat in shackles, casting wary glances at their fellow felons or staring morosely at the metallic flooring of the three quarters full transport vehicle. A slight, fair-haired young woman craned her neck as the administration block of the female wing came into view, peering through a narrow, reinforced window at the first glimpses of what was to be her new home.

Of course there was little to see, what with the vast majority of the facility buried deep beneath the surface of the moon itself, but even this lone, visible representation of the prison made Kaci's stomach lurch wildly within her. Harkin Penal Correctional Facility, its reputation proceeded it, known as the roughest and most infamous prison in the system and beyond, a hive of absolute scum and villainy. I'm going to die here... Panic rose up to choke her, her heart hammering wildly within her chest as the shuttle slowed and coupled with the docking station with a shuddering thud.

She didn't belong amidst her fellow convicts. Most were well muscled, tattooed, scarred, or had a combination of all three, with hard stares and cold exteriors. Kaci's eyes were full of fear and startling blue, her blonde hair gathered back behind her head in a hasty pony tail, complexion fair and clear. She was short and slim, with no visible signs of sporting any old wounds or inked patterns.

"On your feet!" The command issued by a red, square faced brute was followed swiftly by the heavy clang of his night stick against the nearest solid object, urging the orange-clad occupants to lurch to their feet and shuffle their way off the shuttle. Kaci was one of the last to exit the transport, allowed only a brief moment's hesitation before a heavy hand fell upon her shoulder and drove her onward and into the docking area. Oh god... A muffled conversation was taking place nearby, their chaperone handing over the necessary documentation to the guards that had been awaiting them.

The cold metal that encircled her wrists suddenly felt heavy, the activity around her growing distant and fuzzy as the heavy doors that lead into the prison-proper drew open slowly. She wanted to scream, to run back to the shuttle and beg them to take her away from here, but her legs continued to carry her onward, through the foot thick metal doorway and into the prison's receiving area.

Access to the prison below was granted by a multitude of large industrial elevators, the entrances to which now lined the left-hand wall of the room in which they stood. The group was split in two, divided equally between two waiting elevators that would transport them down into the bowls of the moon. Another hallway, another set of heavy doors, armed guards and cold looks. Shepherded into the centre of the room, their cuffs were removed in swift succession before prison officials withdrew back through the door which they had just come, sealing it shut behind them.

Several minutes passed, before the doors on the opposite side of the room drew back to reveal the interior of the prison - their new home.

 

[Inwiththebooks]

New arrivals always went through the same process, watching an introduction vid in the entry hall that the warden had set up. The harsh middle aged woman was somewhat attractive, possessing short red hair and a pronounced figure. Her right eye was mechanical however, having been replaced when she lost her real one during a prison riot years ago. In the vid she stood before the banner of the Confederation, a circle of sixteen blue stars surrounding a yellow sun on a white background. In her hands was one of the infamous shock batons the all-female guard staff was notorious for using for the slightest reason.

“Prisoners, you are about to enter the Harkin Penal Correctional Facility. Each one of you have been sentenced to life imprisonment for your crimes, there are no exceptions to this. I hope you had a good view of the stars on the way here, it was the last time you will ever lay eyes upon them.” The woman said, her tone cold.

The warden continued after a pause. “Who you might have been outside doesn’t matter here. All that matters here are two rules. Don’t disobey me. Don’t disobey my guards. If you break either rule it is grounds for severe and judicious punishment. I don’t care if you kill each other in the cell blocks. The average turnover rate for new inmates is almost seventy percent in the first standard month. You might notice your cuffs have been removed. This is because in the entirety of this facilities existence not a single prisoner has ever escaped. There are two types of ship that come by here, prisoner delivery and supply delivery. Both ships are run by heavily armed military forces that will shoot escaping prisoners on sight. There is no leaving this place other than in a body bag.”

“You will receive cell numbers after you are taken to the mess hall. Cell numbers are static and unchanging, requests to be reassigned will be denied. Welcome to Harkin, prisoners.”

With that the vid would end. It was a fairly recent creation, made when the rehabilitation bit of the facility had been dropped and the place just became a dumping ground for lifers. After its conclusion the guards would always take the prisoners by the mess hall several floors down in the main facility, abandoning them there to figure out the rest on their own. In was here that a chorus of whistles and hollering could be heard as the other inmates welcomed their new additions. Jora smirked and looked over each one from her lone spot at one of the tables.

Getting a table like hers had been rather difficult, most people had to share but after she had stabbed the fifth person with her fork most people tended to steer clear of Jora’s table when she was sitting there. Unless they had business or were invited of course. Jora liked her table; indeed she kept the metal surface to a mirror shine out of habit. Prison time was slow time after all and one developed curious habits on the inside. Her eyes flickered up from her meal when Amelia stopped next to her, green eyes flicking upwards to the young guard.

“Any bets on who dies first?” She asked, looking over the mass of fresh inmates.

Jora frowned slightly and looked at the fresh meat more intently. “Yeah, put me down for twenty on the tall broad over there, the skinny one with the horse face.”

Amelia chuckled darkly as she entered something on her little arm computer. “Right, twenty on Horse Face. She’s a popular one by the looks of things. Most are betting on the shrimpy blonde chick though.”

Jora looked around and spotted Kaci, shrugging. “Nah, the small ones are the scrappiest. They never go on the first day. Not since I’ve been here anyway. I could see the Queens plucking her right up. Horse Face though doesn't have a good body or a good face, and her tats are Crimson Sun. They got wiped out in here a couple months back remember? Change your bet if you picked the shrimp.” The prisoner advised, earning a nod from Amelia before she scampered away to take more bets. Jora meanwhile returned to her meal, slurping down her food without really tasting it.

 

[Magi_monk]

Kaci's eyes had lifted along with the rest as the screens upon the wall burst into life, a fanfare blaring harshly into the uneasy silence, heralding the warden's welcome. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue clinging to the roof of her mouth as she forced herself to swallow. Life imprisonment... The rang in her ears, echoing over and over within her mind. That small, panicked voice within her once again strained to be heard, to make it known that there had been a mistake, that she didn't belong here, she wasn't like these other people.

She clenched her jaw, pressing her lips into a thin line in order to conceal the lower's trembling, blinking hurriedly as she fought down the emotions that had threatened to break to the surface. Breaking down in tears wouldn't help her, it would just reveal how weak she was, fragile...easy pickings. Instead Kaci fixed her attention upon the screen in front of her, focusing upon the words that were being spoken to her, but there was little comfort to be found in them. Never see the stars again, likely possibility of death, apathy of the guards, no escape....no escape.

The vid came to an end, the warden's face looming above them for a moment before the screens snapped off and a pregnant silence fell over the group of inmates. A small party of guards had arrived in the meantime to escort them to the mess hall, each armed with shock batons and stern faces. "Let's go, ladies..." They shuffled from the entry hall, none too eager to meet this new life that awaited them, briskly led through the facility and down several flights of a broad metal stairway.

It was the noise that hit Kaci first; the whoops, the hollers, the sounds of fists banging against tables, the cat-calls and jeers. One of the guards said something, something related to cells, but the din of the mess hall quickly swallowed it up and then they walked away, leaving the new inmates to fend for themselves.

A number broke away fro the group, calling out to people in the crowd and embracing others as if they were old friends reuniting. Others moved awkwardly through the tables and toward a wall of screens on which a few had writing - the cell allocations, she assumed. Still others seemed to back-pedal, choosing to escape the mess hall all together, or slink off to find some forgotten corner of the vast room.

Kaci hesitated, just as eager to take herself away from this sea of people and escape the many pairs of eyes that watched on with interest but equally as uncertain as to where she would go. First, find out your cell number... Swallowing uncomfortably, the teen forced herself to move, stepping quickly after the other inmates who crowded around a couple of the monitors, scanning the lists for their names. Blue eyes swept the text, searching for the familiar arrangement of letters that constructed her name and the cell number next to it.

127-C

That was it. No further details, no hint as to who her cell-mate might be. Turning away from the monitors Kaci scanned the mess hall apprehensively; most appeared to have gone back to their discussions or their food, the moment of excitement having passed and daily routine resumed. Only now did she realise how hungry she was, which wasn't all that surprising considering she had eaten barely anything in the last couple of days. Wrenching her gaze over to the serving station, the young blonde began to weave her way between the tables, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone that might glance her way.

Better to be ignored, invisible; perhaps if she could just remain unnoticed she might survive. Lifting a tray from the stack, Kaci inched along the line, picking out the least unappetising thing on offer which, even still, was an unrecognisable sludge and a cup of water. Clutching her tray tightly in the hopes to keep her shaking hands steady, she surveyed the the hall again, this time searching for a table to sit at. All of them appeared to be occupied, most by a number of people sat huddled together.

She had been about to simply select the least intimidating group of people to sit with when her eyes fell upon an empty table, well almost empty - a lone figure was the sole occupant, leant over their meal. It was the most promising option and so she worked her way toward it, steeling herself for the conversation that was invariably going to take place, even if briefly. Pausing next to one of the unoccupied chairs, she cleared her throat faintly, "Can I sit here?" Was it wrong to ask? Did it sound weak? Perhaps she should have just sat down and dealt with the other woman's preferences after ward.

 

[Inwiththebooks]

The food was always awful tasting, it was a nutritional supplement designed to grant all of the things the body would need to survive. It also came in solid and liquid forms. The former was a chunk of black cubes that were so tough it felt like eating leather and the liquid felt like fire down one’s throat. The sludge was unappetizing to look at but merely bland in its taste, by far it was Jora’s favorite out of the three options. The water was simply water, which the supplements lacked. It was the only beverage commonly available, aside from illegal alcohol imports. Jora had a few that Amelia held for her… for a modest fee of course.

Jora shoveled the goop into her mouth, swallowing without really tasting it. It was lukewarm as always, never too hot and never too cold. Once her plate was empty she quickly chased it down with a glass of water, downing the whole thing in a few long greedy gulps. The trick was opening the throat, something she had learned after a good while drinking with some of the girls on poker night. The mercenary had almost forgotten that the next card night was next week; Rosie would have skinned her if she missed. The bitch loved her gambling.

The merc looked up from her food at the sound of a voice and found herself face to face with the short girl she had been eying up earlier. She almost had not caught the question though she did catch the looks from a few tables over. Gauging the situation, waiting to see what was going to happen to the hapless chick. Everyone knew walking up to Jora’s spot without having an invitation, being a guard, or having a job offer was likely a death sentence. Her cold eyes flickered as she stared up at the woman, it would be so simple. She could vault over the table and slide the fork at the artery at her neck or under her armpit. She’d bleed out before making it to the infirmary.

Instead of that however Jora shrugged, reclining back in her seat and gesturing to the seat right next to her. “Sure thing, old friend. Nice to see you on the inside finally. What finally got you caught? Arms dealing up the Corellian Asteroid Belts or your business with the Galitro Confederacy?” She said, loud enough to carry over to a couple of tables.

She could practically feel the annoyance of those who had bet on the young woman’s death being first. Any associate of the merc was not a popular target. Jora had contacts that would prefer she still live, mostly gangs but there were a few guards like Amelia out there. Pissing her off would piss them off, that and she was known to be both ruthless and without conscious. So the young woman had just unknowingly gained possible protection… from others… not from Jora though. She gave the young woman a meaningful look, one that said for her to play along.

Jora was doing this for two reasons. One, she would eliminate her in the betting running for first to get killed which would tip the odds towards her favor. Second, the merc was interested in scoping out new meat and this young woman was as new as they came. She could probably get a good finder’s fee for pointing the Queens towards her. Maybe even break a piece of her off for herself, she certainly looked pretty enough. Of course none of this was shown; she was a concerned fellow inmate. A possible friend. An ally.

 

[Magi_monk]

The warring of doubts within the young woman's mind fell silent as the woman's green eyes swept up from her food to fix her with a calculating look, a cold hard stare that almost had her turning on her heel and walking away. Perhaps this had been a mistake. Kaci was equally as aware of the eyes that now watched them, the occupants of the nearby tables having halted their conversations to observe what was about to happen. What was about to happen?

Now that she considered it, there were only really two reasons for this woman having a table to herself. Either she was some kind of pariah, unwanted by the various gangs that Kaci was sure existed within this place, or she was a lone wolf capable of defending herself or still further posing a threat to the other inmates. She concluded that the second of the two options was the most likely with a swift look at the woman in question; tall, strong, the scars visible on her exposed skin suggesting that she was more than capable of defending herself and the coldness within her stare enough to indicate she wasn't one to back down from a confrontation either.

All this flashed through the young blonde's mind in a matter of moments, standing frozen in place and gripping her tray tightly, fighting to keep her fear hidden behind an indifferent façade. Only when the stern-faced woman leaned back did Kaci permit herself to exhale, hesitating only briefly when she was directed toward a chair far closer to the stranger than she had been planning on taking. Still it was the words of greeting that brought her up short, causing her to pause as she straightened from setting her tray down upon the table and seeking out that hard stare once more.

Had she mistaken her for someone else? That would explain the willingness to let her sit, but it would not be a mistake that persisted for long - certainly not if she was unable to conjure up the correct information to include in the conversation that was sure to follow. In fact, Kaci had been about to correct her when something shifted slightly in the other woman's direct look. A tilt of the head, a twitch of an eyebrow, she couldn't be sure quite what had changed but the young woman took it as her cue to take a chance, to play along.

Drawing the offered chair out from its place under the table, she sunk down into it with a deep sigh and shook her head in irritation, "Should have know those damn rocks would be the end of me, my luck had to run out eventually." Kaci ensured that she spoke loudly enough to be heard, sparing a glance toward the dark haired woman before she reached for her tray and dragged it toward her. "Still a people person I see..." She added for good measure, gesturing to the empty table with spoon in hand and a faint smirk upon her lips.

It was a risk, she didn't know if she could trust anyone in here; it could be a trap, a trick or a genuine offer of help and perhaps friendship. Kaci couldn't be certain, but it would be foolish to turn down an opportunity to make an ally in this place. It was her only hope of surviving.

 

[Inwiththebooks]

Jora chuckled; internally pleased the woman had taken the hint offered to her and had picked up the conversation naturally. The people around watched for a moment longer before returning to their own conversations, some of them sounding less than pleased. She wondered if the girl knew just how many targets she had just lost on her back, probably not. In any event the mercenary pushed aside her tray and shifted so she was facing her new ‘friend’. She rolled her eyes at the observation posed; the table being empty had not been an easy thing to achieve of that there was no doubt. Even someone like her had needed to work for it.

“Still too sarcastic for your own good, I see. Anyway, don’t sweat it. The food is dreadful but the place is nice enough once you learn the ropes. Not too worry though Ol’ Jora will put in a few good words for ya.” The merc said, smirking.

Subtext was always a tricky thing so Jora made sure her word choice sounded natural for her but also making it deliberate. What she was trying to get across was that she was willing to show her around a bit, get her acclimated. Hopefully she’d pick up on that and possibly find a way to slip in her name just like Jora had managed. It was a strange introduction but it killed the monotony and anything that killed that was more than welcome. Prison time was slow time after all so a lot of people took up odd hobbies on the inside. Jora had found she enjoyed knitting, for instance. The needles also made for lovely weapons.

Sitting closer to the woman she noted that she was indeed very much underwhelming. No gang tats, no real muscle on her, and she did not have the same hardness about her as most did. She just appeared to be so very soft. Not that Jora minded that, she liked soft things and especially liked soft things under her. Preferably squirming and alive. The merc undressed her with her mind, a task she kept hidden behind her slight grin. On the inside she was pondering just how much she might bring in if she rented her out to the guards instead of the Queens.

“Anyway. Did you get your cell number?” Jora inquired.

 

[Magi_monk]

Kaci pushed a quick smile to her lips, dipping her spoon into the sludge that occupied her bowl and stirred it around slightly. Too sarcastic for her own good; was that a warning, caution not to stray too wildly in this fiction they were creating together? It was possible that she was reading far too much into the turn of phrase, it could just as easily been a playful retort for all she knew - still it didn't hurt to be wary. The young woman didn't have too long to consider this particular phrase, turning her attention to the rest of what this woman had to say.

Jora, that was a name that she wasn't going to forget any time soon, mentally rehearsing it in her mind a couple of times in the hopes that it would stick. Knowing the name of someone who appeared to have a significant amount of clout could only help in her current situation.

Her gaze fell back to the gloop that now surrounded her spoon, trying to summon the courage to lift it to her lips and actually consume whatever it was suppose to be as she dipped her head in faint appreciation. Putting off eating for another moment longer, a faint laugh broke the silence, "Who'd have thought it, Jora and Kaci together again! And here I was thinking I'd keep myself out of here another year yet." She almost found herself caught up in the story, partly wishing herself into this persona and friendship that really wasn't there. Perhaps they could be friends, a team; perhaps she would survive this yet, heck with Jora beside her it was even possible that she might flourish.

The follow up question dragged the young woman's attention back to the present, staring back blankly at Jora for a moment before what she had said registered and she could summon up an answer. "Oh, cell 127, block C. Don't suppose you know who I've landed up with as a cell-mate, hmm?"

 

[Inwiththebooks]

Jora enjoyed the fiction she had weaved, simple and easily remembered if anyone inquired over her relationship with Kaci. Nice of her to drop her name, sounded somewhat natural and the woman was noting the young woman caught onto things quickly. Jora actually did have contacts in both places she’d mentioned, both of which she’d killed when she had been on the outside for their betrayal. Kaci did not need to know that of course so she kept up the personae of them being friends. She recognized opportunity when she saw one walk up and it had been some time since she had gotten some entertainment.

The older woman chuckled at Kaci’s disgust at the prison food, a perfectly normal reaction. Occasionally prisoners like Jora could afford to have actual food smuggled in though it was rare and one needed exceptional contacts in the guards. The guards controlled the flow of goods and anyone that wanted to make it big attached themselves to them fast. For a merc like Jora that meant taking a few jobs to eliminate either rival guards or troublesome inmates. It had served her pretty well in her lifetime and she intended to keep at it for a long while yet.

A smile broke across her face at the named cell number and block. “Well, that happens to be my little slice of the prison. I was wondering when they were going to replace my old cell mate. Bitch tried to stab me in the neck so I broke hers. You can see the scar on my shoulder where she missed.” The woman said, pulling her shirt collar just enough to show a mostly healed scar.

“The medical facilities here are pretty good if you’ve got connections with the staff. Guess how long that took me.” Jora said.

“Once you finish with the slop I’ll show you to the cell. Block C is pretty tame, mostly minor murders or manslaughter. Took me forever to get in there.” She continued, putting her feet up on the table and reclining back.

 

[Magi_monk]

What were the chances that of all the inmates she could have sat down next to, she had managed to find the very one that was to be her cell-mate? Perhaps her luck was changing. This woman seemed to be nice, or at least as nice as one could expect in a place such as this, and from what she had been saying it would appear that she had some sway, even amongst the guards.

As her companion explained what had happened to her last cell-mate Kaci mustered the courage to push a spoonful of the grey goo into her mouth, struggling to maintain a straight face as she quickly swallowed much of it before she could really taste it. It wasn't that bad, as long as you made sure not to taste it. Reaching for her cup of water, the young woman fixed her attention more fully on the conversation as Jora explained who were housed in Block C.

Only now did a rather important realisation dawn upon her - she had no idea what Jora had done to be put in here in the first place. If she hadn't been placed in Block C, then it was more than likely she had originally been housed in a block with a more dangerous population. Already Kaci knew that this woman was capable of killing someone, but what else was she capable of?

Forcing a faint smile to her lips, she nodded lightly and refocused her attention upon her bowl of gruel, hoping that her sudden panic had not reached her face. Her mind whirred as she spooned the slop into her mouth, swallowing each mouthful before it barely had a chance to settle upon her stomach, washed away with mouthfuls of water shortly afterward.

It sat heavy in her stomach as they both rose to their feet and Jora led the way out of the canteen and to their cell block. To Kaci's relief it looked just as she had envisioned it; rows upon rows of cells, stacked three high with walkways and metal stairs servicing them, the same set up mirrored opposite. The cell numbers were stencilled in yellow above the doors which currently sat open, other inmates milling about within or out in the main thoroughfare, the odd few pausing to turn and look them over.

Their cell was fitted out like all the others; a 6 foot by 8 space with a bunk bed up against one side of a wall, a sink and a toilet at the far end. It was nothing special, but no more or no less than Kaci had honestly been expecting. She cast a cursory glance around the small space before examining the beds; thin mattresses, a single pillow and a blanket each. "Which is yours?" The blonde finally turned to look back at her cell-mate who as of yet still stood within the entrance to the cell, and coincidentally also blocked the exit.

 

[Inwiththebooks]

Jora stood at the entrance of her cell with an easy posture, clearly not threatened by the young woman standing in front of her. The convicted killer suspected she could tear Kaci apart quite easily if she so desired. She looked extremely frail compared to most of the more hardened inmates of the area. Like she was out of place in this facility. Jora had seen it plenty of times before, some stupid person was in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up killing someone. Kaci did not belong here most likely but the system placed her here so Jora figured someone might as well get use out of her.

She smirked at the question. “The bottom. Its unwise to sleep over someone you just met.” The woman said.

Her expression shifted from the amiable one from the mess to blank in the blink of an eye, a calculating gaze picking apart the new inmate easily. The taller woman pondered just breaking her in now. The guards would hardly care as long as she did not make too much of a ruckus. Shoving a pillowcase in her mouth would keep the voice muffled and likely she could begin and finish in a matter of minutes. However… that would be no fun at all, it would be over too quickly and Jora would have to figure out a new way to alleviate her boredom. Better to just establish some dominance.

“Right, Kaci, so in my honest opinion alone you’d last about a minute before getting stabbed in the showers. Fortunately for you I think you might have potential, so I’m willing to give you a hand and keep you from getting murdered. Protection essentially.” Jora said.

“Everything has a price though, girl, so in exchange for the protection I’ll expect you to do everything I say. You do that and you might just live a long and relatively comfortable life in this place.” The woman said, leaning against the entrance with a slight smirk on her face.

“Let’s see if you understand. Strip. Now. I want to see everything.” Jora commanded, narrowing her eyes imperceptibly at the younger woman.

Jora had no intention of doing anything untoward against Kaci yet, she just needed to ensure that the younger woman was willing to behave. If she wasn’t then the older woman might have to change that a bit. Her last bunkmate had been an uppity cunt that took every opportunity to rebel against her. Ended pretty badly for her though when she failed to kill Jora. The merc hated wasting perfectly good entertainment. The scar didn’t really piss her off overmuch, just another addition to the map of survival on her form.

 

[Magi_monk]

Kaci glanced back to the beds as Jora replied, the answer made sense she supposed - the lower bunk provided some shelter and clear warning if anyone decided to creep up on you in the middle of the night. So she would take the top, that suited her fine - she wasn't sure she wanted to be any more confined than she already was. Besides Jora wasn't going to attack her, right?

Her gaze swivelled back up from the bed, over to where Jora still stood and face far different than it had been moments before. The young woman took a reflexive step backward, a cold feeling of dread settled over her as her cell-mate began to talk, laying out the situation as she saw it and informing Kaci of exactly how well she would fare alone without protection. The teen stood there in stunned, horrified silence, wide blue eyes fixed upon Jora as if she expected the woman to leap at her at any moment.

Why was she surprised? Surely she had not expected the little fiction they had dreamed up to continue indefinitely. This was a prison full of criminals, with its own balances of power and notions of respect. Jora's order hung in the air between them, the goings on out with their cell distant and barely acknowledged. She spoke true of course, Kaci knew this. On her own it was highly unlikely that she would survive very long being utterly naive to the ways of criminals nor having the brute strength to defend herself in a fight. Sure, she was slight and agile but that would only carry her so far in a place like this.

Obedience seemed like the simplest option; show willing to do as she was told and earn the older, more experienced woman's protection in return. Yet did she really want to be somebody's bitch, to show herself so easily commanded? Perhaps it would be better if she refused, show some back-bone, some spirit - perhaps Jora would respect that sort of thing. Above all this there was the simple unwillingness to expose herself so fully to a person that was practically a stranger, and make herself even more vulnerable than she currently was.

Kaci hesitated, her hands curled loosely at her sides, staring back at Jora as an uneasy silence settled between them. Her gaze slipped, taking in the other woman's muscled physique as her mind began to whir with the possible outcomes of disobedience. Jora was clearly no stranger to violence, she had barely flinched earlier when informing her of the latest life she had taken; so what would she do to Kaci in retaliation for this act of disrespect?

With her heart hammering wildly within her chest, the blonde girl stood stiffly in the centre of the cell, silently refusing to do as she was commanded.

 

[Inwiththebooks]

Jora half expected the girl to immediately give into her demands though she was not exactly surprised when she got a bit of defiance from Kaci. Somehow she did not seem like the type to just drop her pants on command. It appeared she’d need a bit of discipline beaten into her before she could even be broken in. The taller woman stood up straight and rolled her shoulders, sighing as little pops sounded as she worked out some minors kinks. Her movements were still relaxed but in the end the criminal suddenly opted to spring forward into action.

Her fist was slammed hard into Kaci’s stomach, only for her knee to rise up enough so that it could meet the other woman’s face. The mercenary felt a sting for the knee but it was minor for her compared to how much pain she must have left her new cell mate in. Once this was done Jora moved back to the entrance of the cell and gave Kaci another look, smirking down at her. No need to get too violent as she did not want to risk breaking her completely. Killing her would leave her out one new cellmate and the next might be even more hardheaded.

“I don’t have a problem with beating you, Kaci. The doctors here are pretty damn good so I could probably go at it for a bit before needing to stop. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. So just do like I told you and we’ll be golden. You’ve got guts but guts tend to get spilled in this place when they have nothing to back them up. Smart women are the ones that make it a long while here. So be smart.” Jora said, examining her nails before turning her gaze back to her cellmate.

“If it makes you feel better I’m not planning on raping you or anything. Not yet anyway. Just want to make it clear how things are. Now strip.” She reiterated.

Jora could have likely ripped Kaci’s clothes off herself but that would be perfectly meaningless in terms of power plays. There was a fine line between force and power. Force was doing things to someone while power was making them do those same things. Beating Kaci was inconsequential so long as in the end it was Kaci that removed her clothes. It sent a message that she was following Jora’s orders, dancing to her tune. Sure force could be fun at times but power was something that lasted far longer than force.

 

[Magi_monk]

She knew what was coming, there was little chance that Jora would simply accept her defiance with a shrug of her shoulders and they'd go back to talking like they did before. Despite her determination, Kaci inched backward as the older woman straightened, watching her movements warily, fearful of what was to come. Her hands tightened into fists, prepared to at least attempt to defend herself if it came to it.

As it happened there was no time to even raise her fists as the gap between them was closed in a matter of seconds, Jora's face looming in front of her own before everything went dark. A fist crashed into her stomach, driving the air from her lungs and doubling her over in time to meet the raised knee on the way down. She hit the ground hard, clutching at her body as she gasped desperately for air.

Kaci's cheek pressed into the cold concrete, her vision swimming in front of her as the metallic taste of blood coated her tongue. A blurred pair of boots moved away from her, Jora retaking her position at the entrance to the cell. The teen squeezed her eyes shut, sucking down air as she squirmed up the ground, trying to regain control of her faculties. A voice floated down to her, trying to reason or threaten her into compliance - Kaci couldn't be sure which.

The pain began to ebb a little, the burning in her lungs fading enough that she was allowed to breath a little easier. Bracing her hands against the concrete, she pushed herself onto her knees, cradling her stomach with an arm. The order came again - strip.

Her options seemed pretty clear - do as she was told or face a further beating, one that she was unlikely to be able to defend herself from despite her best efforts. Lifting her head, Kaci cast a desperate glance beyond her cell-mate, searching hopefully for a patrolling guard, all the while knowing that there would be no help or assistance forthcoming.

The teen's gaze fell to rest upon the ground as the gravity of her situation fell upon her, her trembling hands moving to push the orange material from her shoulders and down her arms. She couldn't bring herself to look up at Jora as the shirt was set to the side and she began to peel the white t-shirt up and over her head. A simple white sports bra cradles her perky, youthful breasts revealing only a small semi-circle of soft skin.

Here she stopped to set her t-shirt upon the bottom bunk along with her shirt, bracing her hand against the thin mattress in order to push herself to her feet. Kaci's skin was pale and smooth, with barely a noticeable blemish, her stomach flat and her arms toned but certainly not muscular. She felt heat fill her cheeks, radiating with her humiliation as she halted the process of removing her clothing, the orange trousers still very much on.

 

[Inwiththebooks]

The woman watched with a keen eye as her cellmate disrobed, raising a brow as she stopped at simply removing her shirt which amused her quite a bit. Jora pondered beating her again to drive her point home but instead closed the distance between them. Her fingers encircled her throat, hovering with the clear threat hanging in the air between them. Jora smiled down at her cellmate in a predatory fashion, her eyes alight with amusement. Her free hand gripped one of the Kaci’s wrists and jerked it up, tightening her hold on the appendage to an almost painful degree.

“Since you’re new I’ll give you one last chance to do this the easy way. When I said strip I meant you strip down naked. Don’t go looking for help or someone to save you. No one will help you even if you scream as loud as you can. Where do you think you are, Kaci?” Jora said.

“Now, save yourself some humiliation and strip before I decide I do want to hear your squeals a bit earlier.” The taller woman said before stepping back and blocking the entrance once more, just standing there and looking as menacing as she could.

Beating Kaci would certainly be amusing and technically Jora could bet it would make stripping her easy but there would be little point in her doing it herself. The point of this whole affair was to establish who was the dominant person in their relationship. Who was the bitch and who was the owner. Kaci would no doubt feel all the more under her control if she was the one that had to do the stripping. Jora had done it with her last cellmate as well, the bitch had been stupid and tried to stab her but Kaci looked far less courageous.

The tall woman briefly glanced at a passing guard outside who peered in and smirked at what she saw happening within. She didn’t intervene and she didn’t say a word, just gave Jora a nod and continued on her patrol. The truth was the guards were even more of thugs than the actual criminals. They were apathetic to the plight of those within the prison; indeed some went out of their way to abuse the criminals. Jora had passed more than one cell where a couple of guards had tied down some unfortunately woman and took turns humiliating her. In a prison of the worst criminals even the guards were dragged into crime. After all… with this isolation who was going to reprimand them?