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Stranger in a Strange Land
WHO: Issy Wicked and ANYONE in Sing Sing
WHAT: Issy is wandering after being let inside.
WHEN: Present
WHERE: A random Cell block
After being brought inside of the gates of Sing Sing, Issy's two escorts had seemed to have vanished, tearing off to tend to other things, leaving him to wander around on his own, for now. He re-shouldered the large duffel bag onto his shoulders and slowly walked around, looking into rooms and cells. Every now and then someone would walk by, and usually give him an odd, passing glance. Issy would offer a weary smile in return as he continued on. He sort of wondered why no one really lingered to talk, or question him. Perhaps it was the fog of perpetual body funk that hung on him. He'd been on the road and the run for months, and long soaks in the sauna or marathon showers with a friend were distant memories. He'd been more concerned with survival that glamor endeavors.
Some of the cells looked like people were living in them. He'd spent more than a few blurry nights in ones in his past, and wasn't sure if he would want one as a home, no matter if the door remained open, or was under his control. Besides, they were really small, and as industrially cool as a steel bar door would be, it wasn't going to be his first choice for a new place to crash. His gut rumbled, reminding him just how long his last meal had been, and he paused to sniff the air and try to pick up the smell of food nearby. The only prominent smells that he found were that of dust, mold and some sort of chemical smell that could be either gas or napalm for all he knew. As he walked along, he softly sang one of his old songs to himself, not even really conscious that he was doing that.
Brain was off, he was just on autopilot at this point until something jogged him out of this fugue. He paused when he heard clanking, metal on metal, some sort of construction he guessed. It was some ways away, and the way the sounds echoed around him, it was impossible for him to guess which direction they were coming from since he didn't know the layout of the building. He idly wished a roadie or body guard would appear out of the dust and lead him to where he wanted, or was needed to go. Sometimes just being led around like the performing ape he had been was really the way to go.
WHAT: Issy is wandering after being let inside.
WHEN: Present
WHERE: A random Cell block
After being brought inside of the gates of Sing Sing, Issy's two escorts had seemed to have vanished, tearing off to tend to other things, leaving him to wander around on his own, for now. He re-shouldered the large duffel bag onto his shoulders and slowly walked around, looking into rooms and cells. Every now and then someone would walk by, and usually give him an odd, passing glance. Issy would offer a weary smile in return as he continued on. He sort of wondered why no one really lingered to talk, or question him. Perhaps it was the fog of perpetual body funk that hung on him. He'd been on the road and the run for months, and long soaks in the sauna or marathon showers with a friend were distant memories. He'd been more concerned with survival that glamor endeavors.
Some of the cells looked like people were living in them. He'd spent more than a few blurry nights in ones in his past, and wasn't sure if he would want one as a home, no matter if the door remained open, or was under his control. Besides, they were really small, and as industrially cool as a steel bar door would be, it wasn't going to be his first choice for a new place to crash. His gut rumbled, reminding him just how long his last meal had been, and he paused to sniff the air and try to pick up the smell of food nearby. The only prominent smells that he found were that of dust, mold and some sort of chemical smell that could be either gas or napalm for all he knew. As he walked along, he softly sang one of his old songs to himself, not even really conscious that he was doing that.
Brain was off, he was just on autopilot at this point until something jogged him out of this fugue. He paused when he heard clanking, metal on metal, some sort of construction he guessed. It was some ways away, and the way the sounds echoed around him, it was impossible for him to guess which direction they were coming from since he didn't know the layout of the building. He idly wished a roadie or body guard would appear out of the dust and lead him to where he wanted, or was needed to go. Sometimes just being led around like the performing ape he had been was really the way to go.