001 ♠ Voice

[urnotafraid]

So... Let me get this straight. [ Someone sounds grumpy and tired and there's a definite hint of an accent. ] We've been rescued by a group of kind-hearted assholes from Gamma-Beta-Three-A that felt we've just gotta wear collars to match our winning personalities, right? Or am I missing something from the care package left behind in the room?

[ There's a pause filled in with the familiar sound of someone lighting up a cigarette. ]

And I thought this sort of thing only happened in bad movies...

Hey! Anyone around?

Comments

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

All I can say is hoard it. I shouldn't be chain smoking if I want to have some by next month.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Don't even have cigarettes here... fuck.

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

That's gotta suck.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Everything sucks.

No booze. No cigarettes. No real fighting tournament.

It like fucking rehab with monsters.

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

Never got forced into that sort of thing; my lawyers were pretty good about that.

Next thing you know, we'll be told that there's no such thing as turf wars or smuggling in the good stuff.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Lucky.

True enough. I'll believe the turf wars, but where's there to smuggle anything in?

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

Pays to get the best.

You can't tell me that this place magically grows it's own food and supplies.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Should we wonder what it is that they're feeding us?

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

I think we better be wondering about that.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Hope ya got a strong stomach, then.

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

Course I do!

I just don't like oatmeal.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Who the fuck does?

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

Whoever's running this place?

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Bitches.

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

Set 'em on fire.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Too easy.

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

With a blow torch?

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Ya seem to think they deserve to die.

I don't mean that they ain't deservin' of punishment, but they should live with the scars.

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

You can leave a person alive after working on them with a blow torch.

Just saying.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Guess so.

What's with yer boner for fire, anyway?

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

Everything burns, even stone and bone if given enough heat.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Ain't that poetic?

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

I suppose so.

Voice.

[bewareofdog]

Sorry. Burnin' flesh stinks like shit, okay?

Voice.

[urnotafraid]

You get use to it. [ Burning things was pretty normal where he came from; the ground was too wet during the winter and letting things sit during the summer made diseases spread. Burning was the only way to get rid of everything. ]