Robert Callaghan // ʏ๏кคเ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pushtheboundaries) wrote2014-11-21 09:12 am
pushtheboundaries) wrote2014-11-21 09:12 am
Entry tags:
shortfic; breakout WIP
The first few days are the hardest; there's some jostling and elbowing and at one point Robert ends up backed in to a corner with a few others cracking their knuckles. It's at that point that old training kicks in, and while his age has certainly gotten to him he's never let himself slip out of shape. He manages to hold his own long enough for the guards to intervene, and while he ends up with his own share of bruises, he's pretty sure he broke a few fingers of the others. It's not something that was particularly enjoyable, but Robert sincerely hopes it's the first and only time he'll be put in that kind of position.
It's not, but the others go better, and he ends up with stitches in his side but the respect of his new 'peers'. One has to wonder if this is the way everything goes when there's a new person in the midst, but Robert tries not to think about it too much.
They alternate between calling him 'Professor' and 'Yokai', after the newspaper's little nickname; neither is particularly palatable, but he ends up responding to both.
He notices he's being watched; he tries to ignore it at first, but once in a while he'll look over his shoulder to see someone quickly looking away. It's annoying, but what can he do? Confront them? He's not even sure who it is; maybe it's not one, but many, and with frustrated disgust Robert makes a conscious decision not to care.
This is not the best decision he has ever made, but it seems to be a pattern with him, lately.
It's only when he's transferred to another facility that things really go to hell. To be fair; he cooperates in full, and has up to this point been (mostly) a model prisoner. He has had no troubles with the guards, and one might go so far as to say he trusts them to...well, do what they can when trying to run a house of Problems.
So when there's a stop and they look around with mild confusion, he's confused right there with them, even if he doesn't show it; he's kept his head down for most of the ride, eyes closed as he hunts for a bit of sleep because what the hell else is he going to do? He's an old man, whose best weapon is his own mind but he's been effectively disarmed by the fact that his own daughter is ashamed of him. But it slowly creeps to work, trying to figure out why they've stopped as guard one raps on the partition between him and the driver and asks what's going on, they can't be there yet-
-then the doors fly open and a group of visored men are pointing guns at them all and handcuffed with his hands behind his back, even were Robert able to get over his shock it isn't as though he could do anything.
They grab him, there's a scuffle with the guards, and he's thrown into another vehicle; gunfire, he doesn't know who's hit if anyone, but there's one pointed at his face and even with the shouting and stress he can only find it in him to grimace and force calm as he asks what do you think you're doing and he's informed that someone wants to talk with him
what, they couldn't send a visitation request?
and the ride is extremely tense, even when he's helped to sit up and there's the comment of will someone give him a jacket and he wants to know can i get these cuffs off to put the thing on but they don't seem quite willing to go that far. Even when he gives them a disgusted look and asks them what they think he's going to do; he's neither stupid nor suicidal, but he is concerned as to who this 'person' is. Powerful, maybe, to have thugs like this working for them.
Still, what can he do? He's not in too different a situation from where he was before, so Robert closes his eyes, breathes, and tries to act as though he's disinterested when in reality his insides are churning with unease.
When he opens his eyes again, it's because they've stopped. He's not sure where; there's neon and lights and the place reeks with smoke and is that urine? He tries not to think about it, ushered out and then in to what looks like some sort of club and then in to its back where a large man greets him with a sweeping gesture.
I've heard so much about you! he says, before glancing at Robert's arms. Someone get those off him, no need for those.
His name is Yama. He's a fan of Yokai.
When Robert nonchalantly informs him that his 'help' was unnecessary and that 'Yokai' was a mask, Yama grins as though sharing a secret, reaches in to his coat
and throws down a familiar mask. Complete with a band at its back, lights there glowing softly.
When Robert is able to recompose himself and coolly asks why Yama doesn't just put it on himself, Yama makes some gesture about how unresponsive and damage and how he's certain Callaghan could fix it and he can provide the parts for it- Robert sneers how he's not just going to make it and then be disposed of, even well aware as he is that he's playing a dangerous game.
The armed men are still here.
They go back and forth, him and Yama, Robert saying as few words as possible to get his points across; he's worried that his fear and nervousness will come through, and moreover, his realization that he could still do so much.
There's a period of silence in which he simply looks down at the mask, looking over the angry red lines- righteous anger, they scream. i have a wrong to right, i have been slighted; see me, see my role in this story, understand that i am power and that i will not be denied.
Robert licks his lips once, and admits a need for materials. Done, Yama says. Tools, supplies, a place to work- all handled. Then Robert insists on knowing what Yama expects from him, and Yama is vague at first, but Robert hammers him home to specifics and the understanding that this may be a set of promises but he will not be anyone's tool.
I wouldn't dream of it, Yama declares with a false laugh, and it's a laugh that by now Robert can read the cruelty to. Yama may pose a front, but his sneers, his smirks, every bit of him gives him away.
He has no mask.
But even with a 'debt' to pay, as Robert picks up his own, he'll be damned if it becomes Yama's as well.
It's not, but the others go better, and he ends up with stitches in his side but the respect of his new 'peers'. One has to wonder if this is the way everything goes when there's a new person in the midst, but Robert tries not to think about it too much.
They alternate between calling him 'Professor' and 'Yokai', after the newspaper's little nickname; neither is particularly palatable, but he ends up responding to both.
He notices he's being watched; he tries to ignore it at first, but once in a while he'll look over his shoulder to see someone quickly looking away. It's annoying, but what can he do? Confront them? He's not even sure who it is; maybe it's not one, but many, and with frustrated disgust Robert makes a conscious decision not to care.
This is not the best decision he has ever made, but it seems to be a pattern with him, lately.
It's only when he's transferred to another facility that things really go to hell. To be fair; he cooperates in full, and has up to this point been (mostly) a model prisoner. He has had no troubles with the guards, and one might go so far as to say he trusts them to...well, do what they can when trying to run a house of Problems.
So when there's a stop and they look around with mild confusion, he's confused right there with them, even if he doesn't show it; he's kept his head down for most of the ride, eyes closed as he hunts for a bit of sleep because what the hell else is he going to do? He's an old man, whose best weapon is his own mind but he's been effectively disarmed by the fact that his own daughter is ashamed of him. But it slowly creeps to work, trying to figure out why they've stopped as guard one raps on the partition between him and the driver and asks what's going on, they can't be there yet-
-then the doors fly open and a group of visored men are pointing guns at them all and handcuffed with his hands behind his back, even were Robert able to get over his shock it isn't as though he could do anything.
They grab him, there's a scuffle with the guards, and he's thrown into another vehicle; gunfire, he doesn't know who's hit if anyone, but there's one pointed at his face and even with the shouting and stress he can only find it in him to grimace and force calm as he asks what do you think you're doing and he's informed that someone wants to talk with him
what, they couldn't send a visitation request?
and the ride is extremely tense, even when he's helped to sit up and there's the comment of will someone give him a jacket and he wants to know can i get these cuffs off to put the thing on but they don't seem quite willing to go that far. Even when he gives them a disgusted look and asks them what they think he's going to do; he's neither stupid nor suicidal, but he is concerned as to who this 'person' is. Powerful, maybe, to have thugs like this working for them.
Still, what can he do? He's not in too different a situation from where he was before, so Robert closes his eyes, breathes, and tries to act as though he's disinterested when in reality his insides are churning with unease.
When he opens his eyes again, it's because they've stopped. He's not sure where; there's neon and lights and the place reeks with smoke and is that urine? He tries not to think about it, ushered out and then in to what looks like some sort of club and then in to its back where a large man greets him with a sweeping gesture.
I've heard so much about you! he says, before glancing at Robert's arms. Someone get those off him, no need for those.
His name is Yama. He's a fan of Yokai.
When Robert nonchalantly informs him that his 'help' was unnecessary and that 'Yokai' was a mask, Yama grins as though sharing a secret, reaches in to his coat
and throws down a familiar mask. Complete with a band at its back, lights there glowing softly.
When Robert is able to recompose himself and coolly asks why Yama doesn't just put it on himself, Yama makes some gesture about how unresponsive and damage and how he's certain Callaghan could fix it and he can provide the parts for it- Robert sneers how he's not just going to make it and then be disposed of, even well aware as he is that he's playing a dangerous game.
The armed men are still here.
They go back and forth, him and Yama, Robert saying as few words as possible to get his points across; he's worried that his fear and nervousness will come through, and moreover, his realization that he could still do so much.
There's a period of silence in which he simply looks down at the mask, looking over the angry red lines- righteous anger, they scream. i have a wrong to right, i have been slighted; see me, see my role in this story, understand that i am power and that i will not be denied.
Robert licks his lips once, and admits a need for materials. Done, Yama says. Tools, supplies, a place to work- all handled. Then Robert insists on knowing what Yama expects from him, and Yama is vague at first, but Robert hammers him home to specifics and the understanding that this may be a set of promises but he will not be anyone's tool.
I wouldn't dream of it, Yama declares with a false laugh, and it's a laugh that by now Robert can read the cruelty to. Yama may pose a front, but his sneers, his smirks, every bit of him gives him away.
He has no mask.
But even with a 'debt' to pay, as Robert picks up his own, he'll be damned if it becomes Yama's as well.