Jailbirds

[Goblin]

The third time you find yourself tossed into a bare, forbidding bunkroom full of boys, half of whom look like serial killers and the other half like frightened rabbits, the novelty's kind of worn off. Especially when practically every one of them knows you by name. Well, nickname, anyway.

"Hey, Goblin! Back again?" was the general question voiced by the other guys as soon as the guard left the room. There were a couple of hostile glances, too, but Goblin ignored those for now and picked a few important faces out of the crowd--Bandit, Angel, Scamp, Ten-Pin. Within minutes, they were gathered in their usual corner, and it wasn't until Goblin had explained the latest plan to them that he glanced cautiously at the door and slipped over to the vent in the wall. "Hey!" he hissed, peering through the grate. "Someone get the new girl for me?"

[Script]

Script had spent the better part of an hour sobbing hysterically in a corner. She was dirty, her hair was a mess, everyone just stared at her, and she desperately, desperately needed a kitchen to bake in.

When a little mouse of a girl told her she was needed at the vent, she nearly broke through the wall in her rush to get to it. "Sebastian?!"

[Goblin]

"Hey, Maggie," he said, folding his fingers through the vent to cover hers reassuringly. "How are you doing?"

[Script]

Hearing his voice and touching his hand basically made Script completely lose her shit all over again. "I'm scared and I'm cold and my father hates me and I want you with me and it's so dirty and these girls keep staring and I want to go home!" She said the last bit on a sob.

[Goblin]

((Hahaha! Oh gosh, I just want to cuddle her. Poor Script!!))

He winced and squeezed her hand. "I knew I shouldn't've got you into this. Look, if you can find a tall girl with long brown and a short redhead with a Boston accent...that's Footsteps and Yankee. They're real friendly, and they won't stare if you ask 'em not to. Promise." He was already slipping into an acquired street accent that all but disappeared when he was between prison stints.

Of course, Riddle was somewhere on the other side of this wall, too. The thought sent a chill down his spine, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "If it's too much, Mag, I can ask Wraith to get you out early. She'll come by the window in a couple days to check on us."

[Script]

((Oh, it's about time she sufferred a little haha ))

Script sniffled, wiping her nose. "No, no, Sebastian. I promised you I'd do this, and I'm gonna do it." She squeezed his hand meeting his eyes through the vent. "Sebastian, there was something I wanted to tell you before, that night in Central Park." She kissed his fingers. "Sebastian, I--"

"Well isn't this cute. Look, girls. Fresh meat." Gypsy stood over Script where she sat on the floor by the vent. "Who you talking to, Princess?"

[Goblin]

That voice sent off alarm bells in Goblin's head. He didn't recognize it and couldn't make out all the words over the din of the bunkroom, but the tone was clear enough. "Maggie? Everything all right over there?" It was risky as hell, but he would unscrew the vent and lead a goddamn charge into the girls' room if anyone tried to lay a hand on her.

[Script]

Gypsy arched a brow at Script, who just clutched Goblin's hand as tightly as she could and stared up at her. "I asked you a question. Do I need to call in back-up, because I will."

"It's nothing. My boyfriend." She blurted it out. "Maybe you know him? Um, Goblin?"

That made Gypsy arch her brow higher, and several girls in the room started to murmur to each other. "Goblin? Goblin Pearson?" Well, wasn't that an interesting little development.

[Goblin]

"Maggie? What's going on over there?" Goblin demanded. But at that moment, he heard a key in the bunkroom door. Cursing under his breath, he kissed Script's hand, dropped it, and leapt to his feet, sweeping off his hat and bowing his head, his posture identical to all the other boys by the time the new warden stepped in to inspect them.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, a pretty, short-haired brunette dropped her book and jerked upright at the name "Goblin Pearson." Every pair of eyes in the room that wasn't focused on Script and Gypsy was now focused on her. She glared defiantly around the room, finally focusing on the new girl, but saying nothing...for now.



^Riddle

[Script]

((Aw, for a psychotic bitch, she's kind of adorable!))

Script's lip quivered, and she nearly started crying again when Goblin left her to fend for herself. She scrambled up, dusting off her pants. "Yeah, Goblin Pearson."

Gypsy smirked. "Hey, Riddle. You hear that, honey. This is Goblin Pearson's girlfriend."

[Goblin]

((She really is! And actually not a total bitch. She had her reasons for what she did. *mysterious face*))

"Yeah. I fucking heard." Riddle gave Gypsy a look, brushing away the hair that was always in her eye, and leaned against her bedpost. "So what does he want you for?" she asked Script without approaching. "What's your little assignment?" The other girls were all silent, though Footsteps and Yankee abandoned a game of cards and moved casually over to stand near Script. They had an assignment of their own.

[Script]

((Oooo!))

Script backed against the wall, blinking at her, confused. "My-- my assignment..?" The girl was smaller than she was but terrifying.

Gypsy snorted. "Oh, honey."

[Goblin]

You got thrown in here with him for a reason," Riddle said with a hard smirk. "Some kind of master plan. I know all the rules to this game, kid. We used to play it together, me and Goblin. Maybe he's mentioned me? Riddle Eisenberg?" She still didn't go near the girl. She and Gypsy had a certain respect for each other, or at least a wary truce, but they had different methods of dealing with people. And different motives.

[Script]

Script bit her lip. "Riddle..." She tried very hard not to gulp. "We...we're getting information...to shut down the Refuge. He--he didn't want me to come, but I offered..."

Gypsy snorted again, digging in her pocket for a contraband cigarette. "Honey, no one just offers to help Goblin. He manipulates it out of you."

[Goblin]

"It's true," Riddle informed her. "He's got no respect for no one unless they know how to play his game, and you? You're just a pawn in it."

Footsteps and Yankee exchanged a glance; the taller girl stepped forward and spoke gently. "Hey. Script, right? Footsteps Callaway. Goblin asked me and Yankee here to look out for you. So what would you say to going...elsewhere?" She glanced pointedly at a bunk on the other side of the room.