gimmethemap | 124

Entry tags:

124 - Port

I'm organizing a group to go out into port, observe, and try to locate some of our missing persons, maybe even the three that disappeared some days ago. I'd encourage similar groups to form, but please, people, don't be stupid and go off on your own. Groups of four or more, please.

Wardens, DO NOT arm Inmates that are not yours without permission from their Wardens first, if they are present.

Anyone wishing to go with my group may respond here.

(OOC: Okay, the first group is getting big. She said to break up into multiple groups, people :| Show some initiative. Also remember that there ARE people that are going to be needed for doing repairs and protecting the ship. Particularly if any outsiders try to board it.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Morgan blinks at her. She's not being threatened and points for being up front about it but --] What the Hell, Parker?

I didn't fucking steal it. [Parker's voice was more than a little defensive.] It was fucking given to me. I just held onto it fucking afterwards. I haven't used it or fucking done anything with it and no one even fucking came looking for it, but I'm going into town to deal with some fucking sociopath's playground and I need more than eleven fucking bullets.

[Morgan sighed.] You know I would have given you a gun if you'd come without it. You could have gone on hiding that and saved it for a rainy day. Why didn't you?

Because I fucking prefer a gun that I know, and that knows my hand. Knowing a fucking gun can be the difference of life and death. [A beat.] And because I'm a fucking idiot.

[Morgan looked at the gun, realizing it was of a more modern make than she liked to use, but she did have shells for it.] You got that right. [She strode over to her cabinet, unlocked it ,and pulled out a box. She tossed it down on the table.] Help yourself. And if you don't lose that thing in port, you're telling your Warden about it. Do we understand each other?

[Parker picked up the entire box of shells and tucked it into the inner pocket of her suit before she slipped the gun into the holster at her back. There was a quick nod.] Given that she called me a cunt and threatened to kill me already, I fucking suspect that if we run into each other, she'll know that I have it.

[Another pause before she added.] But you have my word. [Parker always tried to live up to her word, despite everything else.] So how bad is this, Morgan. You've been here a fucking lot longer than I have.

Morgan was still taking time to add weapons to her own arsenal. Some easily tucked away out of sight -- smaller knives on the boots, a lock pick or two. She had a small single shot pistol that strapped to her thigh. For her pistols she checked for her cleaner weapons, turned them over, checked to see if they needed loading.

"If you want the truth of it, I'm not sure. The last time the Master got into a place off the ship that he could take over, I don't really remember it because I fell overboard. But I'll tell you this much," she belted a second pistol and grabbed a pair of gloves off her desk, "we've never not brought him back in the end."

There was always a fucking first time for everything, Parker thought, but she didn't say anything. She knew she probably didn't even fucking have to say anything. Her fingers opened and curled for a moment, but really, there was a familiar sensation in her veins that had been nearly forgotten. Parker had missed this, she'd missed the hunt since she'd come on the barge.

For a moment she considered shooting the gun again, now that she had more than eleven bullets, but it didn't seem the time and place for that. No, instead the she'd hold onto them for when she needed them: to put a bullet between Denise's eyes and in the Master's chest. "Here's fucking hoping he does something stupid like he's fucking want to do."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

124 - Port

Spam.

Spam.

Spam.

Spam.

Spam.

Spam.

Spam.

Spam.