just try and keep up (wannarace) wrote in marvel_prep, @ 2013-09-09 23:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | speed |
Narrative/Open: Hatch Marks
Characters: Tommy Shepherd and Open
NPCs: Guards
Location: MDC, Indoor Rec Area
Timeline: Monday, September 9th
Description: Even more boredom!
Rating: R, for language
The news was playing again. It never seemed to stop. Just a steady drone of all the crap that the network thought people cared about. The MRA this, the MRA that. Hell, he never thought he'd say it but celebrity scandals would be more interesting. Hell, even Lifetime would have been a nice change of place.
The MDC was never filled with puppies and roses but everyone seemed more bummed out than usual. Some of the kids had been sprung and almost everyone in the place was wishing it had been them. Tommy's own roommate had flown the coop, which hadn't made much of a difference except to make the inside of his cell a lot less exciting to look at.
A lawyer had even stopped by blowing smoke and talking about how he was representing The School Who Could Do No Wrong and had taken an interest in his case, apparently all the legal fees were being taken care of. Tommy had snorted at that and hung up the phone. Yeah, that would be the day. (But hell, if Tabs was getting representation, one more name on the docket couldn't cost that much, right?)
They'd been stuck here since August... 16th? 15th? Next week would be a month. The justice system could be slow but this was fucking ridiculous. Hell, given the way things were going outside, he could be tried, sentenced and still end up back in the same fucking place.
Tommy had grabbed an empty seat in the rec room, sitting in a corner so he could watch everyone else mulling about. He'd nabbed a Sharpie from the office and had started marking out the days he'd been here on his arm only to give up and say screw it. Four sets of marks looked fucking ridiculous so he'd just kept going.
Now, there were a clutter of hatch marks on his skin and some song lyrics up and down his left arm. When he'd gotten bored with that, he'd taken to filling in the chipping nail polish. It was a bad idea because that shit was never going to dry, but at least it would stain like a mofo.
He let his head loll back against the chair and groaned. He rubbed at his neck, unable to leave the damned collar alone. This was so fucking boring. Tommy sat back up looking at the shelves of books and board games. He considered it for a moment. Nope. Not that bored. Yet.
These two hours were taking fucking forever. Time was crawling. It was almost like having his powers back. Except with all the drawbacks, none of the perks. This was the day that never fucking ended.