((SCENE: Matt, Wellington, and Morgan))
Morgue: *It is during open-cell time that Morgan pulls her treasure trove from beneath the bed: the cake box full of jaw-droppingly large strawberry desserts her daughter brought from Kurain Village on her visit last week. But sweets must be balanced with other tastes, and she has also demanded water boiled for bitter, bitter green tea. If Diego Armando had been good for one thing in this prison, it had been to make the guards understand the meaning of the word "bitter." She opens the cake box to let the still-fresh scent of strawberries waft through the air, so deliciously reminiscent of home.*
Wellington: *Wellington exits his unlocked cell at this time, trying to decide if he should bother making the trek to the cafeteria in the unlikely hope that they'll have something worth eating, or to visit the library and pick up where he last left off on his history studying now that he doesn't have to be paranoid about running into Diego there again.*
Matt: *Stepping out of his own cell, Matt grins at Wellington. He isn't feeling particularly hungry and has no prior arrangements with Mimi, he decides to bother his other 'friend'.* Hey, Welly. Where are you headed to?
Wellington: *He's hungry, but he doesn't think going to the cafeteria will yield results this time, and mandatory dinner is only a few hours anyways.* ...Probably the library. I was interrupted in a rather nosy manner there last time, and I'd like to resume my readings.
Matt: The library? *Raises an eyebrow, not really expecting that at all. Reading any other than scripts has never been his thing and he just expected that Wellington wouldn't be too much into it either.* Oh...Well, I think I'm going to head to the cafeteria then, dude.
Wellington: Oh, well then, let me know what.... they.......... *hesitates, slowly inhales* ..........Do you smell strawberries? *looks seriously at Matt*
Matt: Strawberries? What is with you and strawberries? *Sniffs anyway, but he doesn't pick up the smell.* I think you're going crazy, dude.
Wellington: *nods vaguely, clearly not listening to Matt* Nn... oh. I'll see you later I suppose. And let me know if they're serving anything edible for a change. I'll be... *pauses* ...I'll be over here. *walks away from Matt*
Matt: Er...Sure thing. *Watches as Wellington walks away with an eyebrow raised until he just writes it off as one of the other man's weird quirks. Walking in the opposite direction, he heads to cafeteria.*
Wellington: *Walks slowly down the line of cells, peering inside each one, until he comes to Morgan's. He stands still, looking inside in wonderment.*
Morgue: *Feels eyes burning right through her to the cakey goodness, and turns.* Why, Mr Wellington, at last. I wondered when I might have the pleasure of your company. Please, have a seat.
Wellington: *looks around for a moment as if thinking she might be talking to someone else, then enters her cell and sits down* ...Miss Fey, was it? *tilts his head back a bit and puts on a confident smirk* I hope I'm not interrupting anything. *fails to look apologetic and continues smirking instead*
Morgue:Miz Fey, in fact; I am no maiden anymore, Mr Wellington. *Moves the box of strawberry cakes between them, graciously; it is difficult to share when times are so lean.* But indeed, you are interrupting nothing but a lonely tea service. We were going to have tea some day, weren't we?
Wellington: Yes, we were. *eyes the box, and glances at Morgan's hands as if afraid she's going to suddenly take the box away* ...I do rather enjoy... tea. *forces himself to lean back in the chair and smirk at Morgan* The simple ceremony of it brings a rich reminiscence of civilization so lacking in this primitive nest of barbarians.
Morgue: Indeed, Mr Wellington. *Puts a hand to her mouth, as if embarrassed at her faux pas.* The ceremony is simpler within these walls, by necessity. I am not permitted to prepare the tea for myself. The guard should be along in a moment. *Takes a cake out, just to hold it.* I do believe the tea has become better since they began making coffee for Mr Armando.
Wellington: I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your customs, nor have I tried the prison's tea yet. *watches the cake as she moves it*
Morgue: *Notices the scrutiny, and gestures to the box again.* Please, do help yourself to a strawberry dessert, good sir.
Guard: *Looks surprised to find another person in the cell. Of course, it is open cell time, and the prisoners could be anywhere!* Y-your tea, sir. I hope I made enough for two, sir.
Morgue: *Frowns* I am not a sir, good sir.
Guard: Of course not, sir! *Sets the teapot down by the cake box.* I'm watching you, sir! If either of you dashes hot tea in the other's face-- I'll be right there to turn on the cold tap!
Wellington: *gives the guard an exasperated look, then looks back at the cake* ...You don't mind? I wouldn't want to be rude. *but he's already leaning forward to pluck up a piece, then sits back with it. He just holds it for a moment, smelling the strong scent of sugar and strawberries. He knows he shouldn't-- cake has so many calories... but he finally takes a tentative nibble at the top layer. ...He ponderously moves his tongue against the morsel, then takes a bigger bite, his eyes all but glazing over and a pleased "mmnn" issuing from his throat.*
Morgue: Not at all, good sir. My dau-- *Falters, and looks pensively down at her own cake for a moment.* My daughter will always bring more cake. *Sets the cake on her knee, and reaches for two teacups on her bed.* You must have some lovely bitter green tea to chase the sweetness. The tea has been so deliciously bitter since Mr Armando taught these gentlemen that there is no such thing as too strong a cup.
Wellington: *he hears Morgan talking, but it takes him a moment to pull himself far enough out of his sugar trance to pay attention to her words* ...Green tea? *wipes a crumb from his lips with a fingertip and grins* ...The respect you give me... though I deserve it, is rather refreshing and surprising. These past two years have been so sorely lacking in respect that it's enough to drive a civilized man like me mad. *crosses his legs, smirking to himself while picking a morsel apart from the cake to roll between his fingers* I will never break, though. I am of exceptionally strong mind, after all. *pops the morsel into his mouth*
Morgue: *Pours the tea, handing Wellington his cup first.* I have always found bitter green tea to best complement sweets, not only for the variance on the palette. Green tea is a marvellous digestive aid, good sir. *Finally takes a bite of her own cake, and sips her tea to chase it with a soft hum of pleasure.* I am honored to have such a great man as you for company in this place, my good sir. It is so tiresome, isn't it, that the greatest criminal minds must lay to rest in the same den as lowly-- thugs?
Wellington: I couldn't agree more. I'm glad you recognize that honor. *smiles indulgently and takes another generous bite of his cake, then takes a sip of the tea, holding back a grimace at the bitterness and not liking the way it chases the taste of strawberries and sugar from his tongue.*
Morgue: *Seems momentarily taken aback by this man's arrogance, but she swallows it back with her delicious tea.* And what brought you to this place, Mr Wellington? Certain men have proclaimed my sins all over the interblag, but Richard Wellington is a closed book.
Wellington: *finishes chewing on another bite and swallows before looking at her* I got into a little skirmish with a police officer. I ended up pushing him, and he was such a flimsy man that he actually died. I was only forced to face him in the first place because he and his girlfriend took my cellphone. And then I was arrested and given the death penalty! *squeezes his fingers against the cake so they leave imprints* ...I bet I was treated unfairly because he was a cop. If he wasn't, I think my sentence would have been much lighter. The police are so corrupt and unfair to wealthy people like me... all I ever wanted to do was find the best college and live an honest life. If only people could contain their jealousy of me better. *frowns, then bites hard into the cake*
Morgue: *As Wellington has eyes only for his cake, for a brief instant Morgan's eyes narrow to slits of white. This is quickly gone, however, and Morgan speaks as levelly as ever.* The laws of this land are rarely unfair to the wealthy, for they are privileged to write the law. *Lowers her eyes to her teacup.* It is an unfortunate truth, however, that the system is full of lowly men who manipulate it for their own gain.
Wellington: *looks at his cup with narrowed eyes, then takes a long sip of tea, letting the bitterness wash his tongue* ...But it must be why the guards have been treating me so unfairly. Just because it was a cop that died. Those guards... sometimes I catch them glaring at me or short-changing me on rations. *eats the last of the cake, visibly relaxing at the taste, then reaches for another*
Morgue: *Moves the box closer to Wellington, reluctantly, knowing they will go stale, as the autumn befalls everything.* It is most certainly likely that our lowly keepers feel a camaraderie with their fellows who put their lives on the line against common thugs... surely a man such as you has the strength to rise above it? Your rations, for example-- it is not good food, after all.
Wellington: True. I'm not going to eat that slop in the cafeteria unless I have to. But... these... *nibbles at the cake* ...These are very good. I haven't had anything this good in over two years. *savours a bite slowly*
Morgue: I am glad you like them. They are made from a recipe handed down in my family for generations. Politicians once visited Fey Manor to have our lovely bitter green tea, and jaw-droppingly large strawberry desserts.
Wellington: It's the strawberries that really make them good. I'm not surprised. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on some fresh strawberries either, but you know how this place is with fresh produce.
Morgue: It is a shame that the state seems to be under the delusion that milk and meat are cheaper than fresh produce. Oh, the fresh strawberries we had at home, good sir. It makes my mouth water to think. *Replenishes her tea, and makes a polite gesture to Wellington's cup*
Wellington: *gets a blank look in his eyes at her comment, then belatedly moves his cup forward for a refill* Oh... how I long for simple things like that which can only be found on the outside. *frowns*
Morgue: *Looks pityingly on the young man.* Do you not have visitors, Mr Wellington? Surely you have someone who could bring you fresh strawberries-- well, I suppose, as fresh as the grocery store can get.
Wellington: ............ *sets his face into a neutral expression* Visitors... *smirks suddenly and leans back in the chair* O-Of course I get visitors. It's just too much trouble trying to get them to bring me anything. I don't want to owe people any favors. Do you know how troublesome that could get?
Morgue: *Sips her tea steadily, though her eyes are again narrowed to slits* Indeed I do, good sir. Why, am I not here because I relied on one person? *Purses her lips* Though it is true I wanted more from that good madam than strawberries.
Wellington: You can't rely on anyone. *chuckles lightly* There's a lot of people out there who would take advantage of those who trust blindly. *smiles to himself, then takes another bite of cake*
Morgue: It is such a fine line, good sir, between respecting what a man says he is, and trusting what he says. *Smiles tranquilly*
Wellington: Heh. It's nice to know the world isn't entirely filled with fools. But the fools pay well, so I can't say a few aren't necessary. *chuckles again and finishes the cake*
Morgue: "A fool and his money are soon parted"-- isn't that the expression? *Finds herself reaching the dregs of her cup again.* It has been refreshing to enjoy an intellectual discussion again, like a spring breeze through these stuffy halls.
Wellington: *laughs a bit louder* It's one of my favorite phrases. And I do agree. Most of the prisoners are men of action, not words. Civil conversation is all too lacking. *picks one more strawberry cake from the box and takes a large bite*
Morgue: *Closes box, discreetly* We must do this again sometime. Your company is most satisfactory to me.
Wellington: *realizes he's being excused, then smirks and stands, leaving the mug on a table* The cakes were delicious, and your lack of animosity is refreshing. I'll try to find the time to visit you again sometime, Ms. Fey. *smiles and nods, walking out of the cell while licking the sticky crumbs off his fingers*
Wellington: *Wellington exits his unlocked cell at this time, trying to decide if he should bother making the trek to the cafeteria in the unlikely hope that they'll have something worth eating, or to visit the library and pick up where he last left off on his history studying now that he doesn't have to be paranoid about running into Diego there again.*
Matt: *Stepping out of his own cell, Matt grins at Wellington. He isn't feeling particularly hungry and has no prior arrangements with Mimi, he decides to bother his other 'friend'.* Hey, Welly. Where are you headed to?
Wellington: *He's hungry, but he doesn't think going to the cafeteria will yield results this time, and mandatory dinner is only a few hours anyways.* ...Probably the library. I was interrupted in a rather nosy manner there last time, and I'd like to resume my readings.
Matt: The library? *Raises an eyebrow, not really expecting that at all. Reading any other than scripts has never been his thing and he just expected that Wellington wouldn't be too much into it either.* Oh...Well, I think I'm going to head to the cafeteria then, dude.
Wellington: Oh, well then, let me know what.... they.......... *hesitates, slowly inhales* ..........Do you smell strawberries? *looks seriously at Matt*
Matt: Strawberries? What is with you and strawberries? *Sniffs anyway, but he doesn't pick up the smell.* I think you're going crazy, dude.
Wellington: *nods vaguely, clearly not listening to Matt* Nn... oh. I'll see you later I suppose. And let me know if they're serving anything edible for a change. I'll be... *pauses* ...I'll be over here. *walks away from Matt*
Matt: Er...Sure thing. *Watches as Wellington walks away with an eyebrow raised until he just writes it off as one of the other man's weird quirks. Walking in the opposite direction, he heads to cafeteria.*
Wellington: *Walks slowly down the line of cells, peering inside each one, until he comes to Morgan's. He stands still, looking inside in wonderment.*
Morgue: *Feels eyes burning right through her to the cakey goodness, and turns.* Why, Mr Wellington, at last. I wondered when I might have the pleasure of your company. Please, have a seat.
Wellington: *looks around for a moment as if thinking she might be talking to someone else, then enters her cell and sits down* ...Miss Fey, was it? *tilts his head back a bit and puts on a confident smirk* I hope I'm not interrupting anything. *fails to look apologetic and continues smirking instead*
Morgue:Miz Fey, in fact; I am no maiden anymore, Mr Wellington. *Moves the box of strawberry cakes between them, graciously; it is difficult to share when times are so lean.* But indeed, you are interrupting nothing but a lonely tea service. We were going to have tea some day, weren't we?
Wellington: Yes, we were. *eyes the box, and glances at Morgan's hands as if afraid she's going to suddenly take the box away* ...I do rather enjoy... tea. *forces himself to lean back in the chair and smirk at Morgan* The simple ceremony of it brings a rich reminiscence of civilization so lacking in this primitive nest of barbarians.
Morgue: Indeed, Mr Wellington. *Puts a hand to her mouth, as if embarrassed at her faux pas.* The ceremony is simpler within these walls, by necessity. I am not permitted to prepare the tea for myself. The guard should be along in a moment. *Takes a cake out, just to hold it.* I do believe the tea has become better since they began making coffee for Mr Armando.
Wellington: I'm afraid I'm not familiar with your customs, nor have I tried the prison's tea yet. *watches the cake as she moves it*
Morgue: *Notices the scrutiny, and gestures to the box again.* Please, do help yourself to a strawberry dessert, good sir.
Guard: *Looks surprised to find another person in the cell. Of course, it is open cell time, and the prisoners could be anywhere!* Y-your tea, sir. I hope I made enough for two, sir.
Morgue: *Frowns* I am not a sir, good sir.
Guard: Of course not, sir! *Sets the teapot down by the cake box.* I'm watching you, sir! If either of you dashes hot tea in the other's face-- I'll be right there to turn on the cold tap!
Wellington: *gives the guard an exasperated look, then looks back at the cake* ...You don't mind? I wouldn't want to be rude. *but he's already leaning forward to pluck up a piece, then sits back with it. He just holds it for a moment, smelling the strong scent of sugar and strawberries. He knows he shouldn't-- cake has so many calories... but he finally takes a tentative nibble at the top layer. ...He ponderously moves his tongue against the morsel, then takes a bigger bite, his eyes all but glazing over and a pleased "mmnn" issuing from his throat.*
Morgue: Not at all, good sir. My dau-- *Falters, and looks pensively down at her own cake for a moment.* My daughter will always bring more cake. *Sets the cake on her knee, and reaches for two teacups on her bed.* You must have some lovely bitter green tea to chase the sweetness. The tea has been so deliciously bitter since Mr Armando taught these gentlemen that there is no such thing as too strong a cup.
Wellington: *he hears Morgan talking, but it takes him a moment to pull himself far enough out of his sugar trance to pay attention to her words* ...Green tea? *wipes a crumb from his lips with a fingertip and grins* ...The respect you give me... though I deserve it, is rather refreshing and surprising. These past two years have been so sorely lacking in respect that it's enough to drive a civilized man like me mad. *crosses his legs, smirking to himself while picking a morsel apart from the cake to roll between his fingers* I will never break, though. I am of exceptionally strong mind, after all. *pops the morsel into his mouth*
Morgue: *Pours the tea, handing Wellington his cup first.* I have always found bitter green tea to best complement sweets, not only for the variance on the palette. Green tea is a marvellous digestive aid, good sir. *Finally takes a bite of her own cake, and sips her tea to chase it with a soft hum of pleasure.* I am honored to have such a great man as you for company in this place, my good sir. It is so tiresome, isn't it, that the greatest criminal minds must lay to rest in the same den as lowly-- thugs?
Wellington: I couldn't agree more. I'm glad you recognize that honor. *smiles indulgently and takes another generous bite of his cake, then takes a sip of the tea, holding back a grimace at the bitterness and not liking the way it chases the taste of strawberries and sugar from his tongue.*
Morgue: *Seems momentarily taken aback by this man's arrogance, but she swallows it back with her delicious tea.* And what brought you to this place, Mr Wellington? Certain men have proclaimed my sins all over the interblag, but Richard Wellington is a closed book.
Wellington: *finishes chewing on another bite and swallows before looking at her* I got into a little skirmish with a police officer. I ended up pushing him, and he was such a flimsy man that he actually died. I was only forced to face him in the first place because he and his girlfriend took my cellphone. And then I was arrested and given the death penalty! *squeezes his fingers against the cake so they leave imprints* ...I bet I was treated unfairly because he was a cop. If he wasn't, I think my sentence would have been much lighter. The police are so corrupt and unfair to wealthy people like me... all I ever wanted to do was find the best college and live an honest life. If only people could contain their jealousy of me better. *frowns, then bites hard into the cake*
Morgue: *As Wellington has eyes only for his cake, for a brief instant Morgan's eyes narrow to slits of white. This is quickly gone, however, and Morgan speaks as levelly as ever.* The laws of this land are rarely unfair to the wealthy, for they are privileged to write the law. *Lowers her eyes to her teacup.* It is an unfortunate truth, however, that the system is full of lowly men who manipulate it for their own gain.
Wellington: *looks at his cup with narrowed eyes, then takes a long sip of tea, letting the bitterness wash his tongue* ...But it must be why the guards have been treating me so unfairly. Just because it was a cop that died. Those guards... sometimes I catch them glaring at me or short-changing me on rations. *eats the last of the cake, visibly relaxing at the taste, then reaches for another*
Morgue: *Moves the box closer to Wellington, reluctantly, knowing they will go stale, as the autumn befalls everything.* It is most certainly likely that our lowly keepers feel a camaraderie with their fellows who put their lives on the line against common thugs... surely a man such as you has the strength to rise above it? Your rations, for example-- it is not good food, after all.
Wellington: True. I'm not going to eat that slop in the cafeteria unless I have to. But... these... *nibbles at the cake* ...These are very good. I haven't had anything this good in over two years. *savours a bite slowly*
Morgue: I am glad you like them. They are made from a recipe handed down in my family for generations. Politicians once visited Fey Manor to have our lovely bitter green tea, and jaw-droppingly large strawberry desserts.
Wellington: It's the strawberries that really make them good. I'm not surprised. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on some fresh strawberries either, but you know how this place is with fresh produce.
Morgue: It is a shame that the state seems to be under the delusion that milk and meat are cheaper than fresh produce. Oh, the fresh strawberries we had at home, good sir. It makes my mouth water to think. *Replenishes her tea, and makes a polite gesture to Wellington's cup*
Wellington: *gets a blank look in his eyes at her comment, then belatedly moves his cup forward for a refill* Oh... how I long for simple things like that which can only be found on the outside. *frowns*
Morgue: *Looks pityingly on the young man.* Do you not have visitors, Mr Wellington? Surely you have someone who could bring you fresh strawberries-- well, I suppose, as fresh as the grocery store can get.
Wellington: ............ *sets his face into a neutral expression* Visitors... *smirks suddenly and leans back in the chair* O-Of course I get visitors. It's just too much trouble trying to get them to bring me anything. I don't want to owe people any favors. Do you know how troublesome that could get?
Morgue: *Sips her tea steadily, though her eyes are again narrowed to slits* Indeed I do, good sir. Why, am I not here because I relied on one person? *Purses her lips* Though it is true I wanted more from that good madam than strawberries.
Wellington: You can't rely on anyone. *chuckles lightly* There's a lot of people out there who would take advantage of those who trust blindly. *smiles to himself, then takes another bite of cake*
Morgue: It is such a fine line, good sir, between respecting what a man says he is, and trusting what he says. *Smiles tranquilly*
Wellington: Heh. It's nice to know the world isn't entirely filled with fools. But the fools pay well, so I can't say a few aren't necessary. *chuckles again and finishes the cake*
Morgue: "A fool and his money are soon parted"-- isn't that the expression? *Finds herself reaching the dregs of her cup again.* It has been refreshing to enjoy an intellectual discussion again, like a spring breeze through these stuffy halls.
Wellington: *laughs a bit louder* It's one of my favorite phrases. And I do agree. Most of the prisoners are men of action, not words. Civil conversation is all too lacking. *picks one more strawberry cake from the box and takes a large bite*
Morgue: *Closes box, discreetly* We must do this again sometime. Your company is most satisfactory to me.
Wellington: *realizes he's being excused, then smirks and stands, leaving the mug on a table* The cakes were delicious, and your lack of animosity is refreshing. I'll try to find the time to visit you again sometime, Ms. Fey. *smiles and nods, walking out of the cell while licking the sticky crumbs off his fingers*