{018} I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves

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{018} I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves

[Backdated to about a day after the exciting conclusion of Ladd's grand plan and a day into his most recent stint in Zero.]

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Alright, I'll admit it. I deserved that one.

But what's a guy supposed to do when he keeps gettin' killed?

[PRIVATE to Lua]

So...exactly how mad are you?

[Hey, he broke at least one promise with this. He knows he did bad here. And she's a warden, so he also knows she probably knows most if not all of what happened through the grapevine. But at least he sounds and looks reasonably contrite?]

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[Zero. Again. He would have started to get bored by it but Ladd isn't like other people. Solitary doesn't get to him like it does everyone else. And it's not like the hole; he can see into the hallway, he's not chained to the bed. Granted, he spends most of his time sitting on the bed and just waiting, calm and quiet like he usually isn't, but he has a week in here. No less, but no more either.

Seven days. That's nothing.

Half the time he hums, from time to time he tests the bars, leans against them with all his weight, pulls with the same, but they don't budge and he doesn't expect them to.

Sometimes, when he feels like being a nuisance, he'll trail his prosthetic arm along the bars, metal fingers clinking and ringing out against them. Over and over and over.

But mostly he sits. And waits.]

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You're in zero again, Comrade?

Who this time?

Who d'you think?

[He grins toothily. Three guesses, Prefect, and the first two don't count.]

Omar. Was this the gift you were talking about giving him the other day?

More or less.

[He chuckles. Not QUITE, but close anyway.]

So why do you think you deserved it this time, but not the others?

Tried somethin' a little different this time.

In retrospect, might not've been the best choice.

What did you try, Comrade?

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[Ben is a quiet block-mate; he doesn't talk, hum, or even move around much, all told. He's difficult to annoy, mostly because currently he's not even paying any attention outside of his own head.

But when he does animate, when his warden finally gets through to him and brings him back out where he's aware of the world, it doesn't take him long to notice Ladd. He's known he's here, of course, but now he really notices him, and this morning he's sitting cross legged on his own bed, staring intently at the larger, louder man.

Just staring.]

[Ladd doesn't notice at first, and continues to let it go on for a while even after he does. Trying to figure the kid out, figure out WHY. But there's no reason he can see. He looks like Dean but he isn't, and the weirdness of the occasional multiples has already worn off. It's the other one. The quiet one. The smaller one. The younger one.

Finally he wanders over to the bars, wraps fingers around them to peer out past the hallway, and tilts his head in curiosity.]

You gonna say anything or are you just gonna sit there the whole time?

[Ben is aware of Ladd, has been aware of him for quite some time; he follows the Network, he pays attention in the hallways. It's a fairly oblivious Barge denizen that isn't aware of Ladd, and Ben has never been oblivious to potential threats. If anything, he's hypersensiive, which is part of the problem: everyone, in some situation, is a threat to someone else.

So for now he just tilts his head back, gives very little away in his voice or expression.]

You seem to be saying enough for the both of us at most times.

Well sure! You barely say anything at all, somebody's gotta make up for it.

So what'd you end up in here for?

[It's not so much that Ladd doesn't pay attention as he only actively chooses to remember things that are immediately relevant to him. Ben currently rates because he's there, he doesn't recall how the kid got there in the first place but NOW it's interesting information.

Better than sitting here and thinking about what he's done like some kid who wrote on the wall anyway.]

[Ben makes a soft< dismissive noise at the accusation: he says plenty, he's just not in the habit of extraneous chatter like the other inmate.

He glances back up, though, and his voice is even when he replies.]

I killed Shane Walsh. You?

Killed Omar Little, roughed Malcolm Reynolds up a bit, an' knocked my warden around a little.

[Not quite as cheerful about it as he might usually be, but you can't keep a good gangster down for long.]

Why?

[The murder, not the questioning; it's only polite to ask who, as far as he's concerned.]

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[She can't believe he actually did that. Ladd likes to kill, yes, she's known that from the day she met him, but to drag it out like that and make a guy who had nothing to do with it watch... that's not him, he can't have been himself. But he seems like he's got his head screwed on, and he's owning up to it, so he must have been. She doesn't get it.

There isn't any response until later that day, though, when she brings both men down there food, sticking a couple covered plates in and waiting in silence. It's a long while before she says anything, waiting to just let him do what he wants with it, but when she does, it isn't too kind, not like usual.]

You gonna make a break for it if I open up?

[He notices the change, and that about answers his question. He doesn't move from the cot yet, just sits quietly.]

Nah. What would I do that for?

["Why would you do what you just did?", she wants to say, but keeps quiet, knowing that's going to start something a little too early. She unlocks the cell, shoots a look at whoever's the guard that day and looks toward the little soundproof interrogation room. Once the door's open, she takes a hold on Ladd's good hand and leads him out, about to burst with everything she has to hold in another minute.]

[Okay, well this is different. No indicators of where this is going, no tells at all that he can see, so he lets himself be led; she'll have to say sooner or later, right?

Although he can pretty much guess. This wasn't his usual, wasn't his style, and she has to want to know why. It's why he asked how mad she was to begin with, because he KNOWS this one was more wrong than usual.]

[The door's closed, but she doesn't wait for him to start talking, just nudges a chair out for him to sit and locks the door behind her. As much as she wants to just let him explain this away, she's got to get something across. It'll be better for everyone.]

You want to tell me what you were thinking?

[It still sounds sweet out of her, but impatient, like she'd better have the whole truth. Even if she's lied plenty to him, it's always been so he won't get hurt or someone else won't. He doesn't have that excuse.]

[He never lies to her anyway. Not quite anyway; he might leave things out, but that's different. But now, here, like this, he knows it's better to have full disclosure. To outline the entirety, or at least close. His hands rest on the table, slightly slouched in the chair as he watches her.]

I got frustrated. We keep playin' this cat and mouse, it ain't ever gonna go anywhere. He gets in a cheap shot, I get dead, I come back...

What am I s'posed to do, just let him off? Even if it doesn't mean anything it should at least have consequences. More than a few days in a hole.

[But how can you have eye for an eye if it's not permanent?]

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[Duo sneaks in almost silently despite the fact he still had a heavy coat on. That death toll sucked. He hated the cold like that. He leans against the wall accross from his inmate and shakes his head.]

So... Another fine mess you made.

You here to lecture?

[He sighs. Because he hasn't gotten one of those before.]

Why bother? You won't listen. Just go do your own thing, get your ass in trouble over and over.

You'd think dying once, in prison, the first time, woulda been enough to get the message to sink in.

I don't think you're inherently a bad guy, otherwise youda killed me on purpose a thousand different ways.

You just do terrible things. And all I want you to do is tell me what the fucking point of it all is?

You don't get it. None of you do.

[And he can't TEACH anybody. Not here.]

And yet I'm one of the people who tries to get it, I've asked you a couple times to explain your past so I can understand, but you're kinda stubborn that way.

[He reaches down and takes a sandwich from his bag and hands it to Ladd.]

How do you feel about tellin' me now? You got plenty of time.

Edited 2012-12-29 17:32 (UTC)

Ain't about my past. It's about life and certainty. About how everybody can die at any time and nobody's better than it, no matter how much money you've got or how many guys you've got backin' you up. Half the guys here are terrified of it and the other half just doesn't care, or thinks it's like havin' a cold. That they're untouchable because they'll just come back later.

And you want to know how I'm feeling. Well I'll tell ya.

[He sneers, not angry with Duo so much as everyone else. The whole place. Himself, for letting himself get dragged into it, but if Duo wants honesty he'll give it to him. He supposes he owes it to him. Owes some kind of explanation for...this.]

I wanna kill most of 'em. So bad. Just wrap my fingers around their skinny arrogant necks and squeeze until their eyes pop out of their little heads and their noses run. Because they deserve it, for thinkin' like that.

But it doesn't matter, does it? Because they're right. It doesn't mean Jack here.

[He takes the sandwich, but he doesn't do anything but hold onto it. He's not hungry, not much of anything. Just disappointed and frustrated.]

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