[Day 13] Machine Shop (Duty Shift)

[aiursfavoredson]

Tassadar had kept to himself throughout breakfast, and had only moved to stand up from his corner after the warden had spoken. What a license plate was, was something the Protoss warrior didn't know, but he was certain that he'd find out soon enough. He made his way through the central tower area, and after pushing the door open, the templar began

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[petite_frere]

There. Orange coveralls, check. Lost expression, check. Slightly greenish skin, probably also check with the commotion about the crow cages still going on outside the door. Sadly, all of it added up to a new arrival. Despite the good chance that this was the person he'd communicated with on the board, the killer orange made Armand approach with caution.

He smiled apologetically at the experienced prisoner who'd been demonstrating the stamping and moved clear of the bench. "Hello," he offered, trying to sound confident but not aggressive. In his mind, the balance was hard to achieve, which was why he sometimes had trouble with prisoners from the killer's wing. "You may be the man I'm looking for. I was talking about having some wine up on the bulletin board."

There were a lot of reasons why this introduction was risky, but it was getting to the point where Armand's assessment of risks was getting very skewed. Making a scene was more of a problem than actual danger when the guards were watching. He wondered if the other prisoner knew the color coding system yet. He didn't want to have to explain just exactly what the guards had hinted he'd been imprisoned for. His claim to be innocent may not be believed.

[number1112]

Startled, 11-12 turned his eyes to Armand. He looked nothing like a killer, but of course appearances could be deceptive.

He had no idea what the coloured uniforms meant.

"What? Oh... Yes, I'm 11-12," he attempted a smile but it just looked worried.

[petite_frere]

Now Armand felt more confident about smiling himself. He liked rising to fill the role of a friendly face. "I'm Armand." After a quick glance around, he bobbed a very slight bow, then offered his hand as he'd seen people do. "Let's go put on at least the appearance of trying to figure out these dangerous machines."

Armand had lost his place at the bench with the stamping cutter, which was just as well. There was room for two at the main stamper, though the work there looked more tedious. It did seem a little less dangerous though. "You don't look very well. A chair might do you some good."

[number1112]

"Yes. I... I'm still a little confused about this place and I met an unpleasant man earlier," 11-12 looked unsettled but he shook Armand's hand. "I haven't felt well since I got here this morning."

He glanced around nervously at everybody working then back at Armand.

[petite_frere]

Armand pointed toward the opening he'd spotted. He wasn't inclined to take 11-12 by the arm and steer him, though. That orange was warning enough to him to keep his hands to himself. "You can sit right over there. I realize you probably have questions too." He wondered which unpleasant person 11-12 ran into, but didn't ask right away. Time for that later, he hoped.

[number1112]

11-12 nodded and took Armand's advice about sitting, looking expectantly at him as if hoping he would follow. He continued to look both lost and innocently wide-eyed, fidgeting nervously.

[petite_frere]

Armand did sit beside him. "I'm one of the safest people to talk to here, I promise you. What happened earlier?" He kept an eye on the machine, punched a few buttons every once in a while and fed things into it as he saw someone else doing. This was really just to keep from getting into trouble than any real effort at diligence.

[number1112]

11-12 tried to follow Armand's example, not used to such machinery himself either.

"This strange man started talking to me at breakfast. He had two different coloured eyes and was kind of... leering at me," he wrinkled his nose then looked at Armand more closely, but still a bit shyly. "Safe? This is a prison. Is anyone really that safe in here?"

[petite_frere]

Armand couldn't help a twinge of sympathy. He finally reached to pat 11-12's arms. "There are people like that here. True scum. I'm sorry you met one so early." He shook his head and pushed his long hair out of the way.

"Well, if you keep your head down, we can be relatively safe. The warden doesn't try to kill people during the day. What was that prisoner wearing? Did he have anyone with him?"

[number1112]

"Green, I think... and he said some fatter man was his brother - or somthing. He just seemed kind of... sleazy," 11-12 replied. "He looked like he wanted to do something bad to me and I almost took him up on the offer," he grimaced. "This really isn't a dream, is it?"

[petite_frere]

Stopping work for a moment, Armand leaned very close to 11-12 to whisper to him. "Keep away from them in future if you can. Fat Man and his people are dangerous. They prey on us when they can." He wished the guards really acted as some kind of protection from the other prisoners.

[number1112]

"I... All right. If I really am here I suppose I should care what happens to me," 11-12 sighed. "Were you convicted for some crime or you just woke up here one morning too?"

[petite_frere]

Now it was Armand's turn to fall quiet for a moment. "I woke up here with no warning. The guards have made it clear what they think I was sent here for, but tis nothing I would ever have done."

[number1112]

"No? I'd say I knew why I was sent here but nobody has directly accused me and there wasn't any trial or arrest," 11-12 frowned in thought. "I just woke up and the guard was yelling at me to go to the shower."

[petite_frere]

"It isn't that I haven't done anything that might earn a prison sentence, but where I am from, my only crime was rewarded with execution." He held up his arm to pluck at the bright pink of his cover-all sleeve. "This represents a crime that I would sooner die than commit."

[OOC: Armand is just planning to talk to him, so if you want to start the next shift, go ahead.]

[number1112]

11-12 frowned. "Execution...?" He looked down at his own orange clothing. "Mine is different to yours... They represent crimes?"