Rori Watts (rori_acts_out) wrote in rrinitiative, @ 2013-06-09 23:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | day eighteen, jeremy, jeremy and rori, rori |
"No figments. Promise."
Characters: Jeremy & Rori
Setting: Cafeteria
Rori walked off of the elevator, her mind foggy and confused. Her brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, eyes blinking several times as she took a few steps. Where in the world was she? And what had just happened? She looked around at the tables and chairs and figured that she was in a cafeteria of some sort. A cafeteria. Not very long ago she had been in a Federal Correction Institute in Greenville, Illinois. Now, she was somewhere that she couldn’t place. Somewhere that she didn’t know.
What had happened?
She looked at the key in her hand and frowned. “Twenty-five,” Rori mumbled out loud, looking down to her feet and then back to the key. She turned around once and saw the elevator she’d stumbled out of. Shaking her head, the brunette sighed loudly, clutching the bag in her other hand more tightly. She looked up, trying to get someone’s attention.
“Erm,” Rori started, clearing her throat. “Excuse me?” she asked gently. One would think a federal prison would rough her up, but she was still the timid girl she’d always been. She just hid out from the more worrisome people. “Excuse me?” she asked a little louder. “Where am I?”
Jeremy heard the voice, peeking out from behind the rows of costumes he’d been looking through. He stared at her for a moment then adjusted the fedora on his head. It was harder to find a costume than he would have liked, nothing quite fitting him beyond a toga that he was currently admiring, but that was a new fish. “Hey there,” he greeted with a smile, setting down the toga and strolling her way. “You must be new.” The cafeteria was somewhat abandoned, but the prospect of the masquerade had everyone bustling around minus a stop here and there to get costumes. “I’m Jeremy. Welcome.”
Rori tilted her head as she looked at the costumes and wrinkled her nose. “I’ve got to be dreaming. Not even yesterday I was in a Federal Prison and today I’m watching people pick costumes, holding a key, and talking to some guy named Jeremy,” she mumbled, shaking her head. Rori was possibly most amazed by the presence of men who weren’t security guards. “I’m...yeah,” she stumbled, “new.” Rori sighed. “What is going on exactly?” she asked, biting her lower lip uncomfortably. Rori dropped her bag to the floor. If it was a dream, she’d wake up soon enough. If it wasn’t, maybe Jeremy would be her new best friend. He was attractive, after all.
“I know how that goes. I’ve been in the same boat myself, and this place is rather like Alice taking a swan dive down the rabbit hole. Welcome to the facility.” He waved around them and then tucked his hands into his pockets. “So this place is some sort of new reformed prison, where they rehabilitate us by convincing us to join a community.” He nodded over his shoulder towards the costumes. “And tonight we’re having a masquerade ball. So it truly seems anything can happen.”
“The facility,” Rori repeated, her raspy voice filled with distrust as she furrowed her brow and looked around. “Where are the bars and uncomfortable beds and guards, then?” she asked simply, ignoring the costumes. Who would go to a masquerade ball in a prison? Besides, Rori knew better than to think that she could be reformed. “So. You’re Jeremy, huh? How long have you been here? Assuming, that is, that you’re not some figment of my imagination here to tease me and make me think that just maybe my life is still worth living,” Rori asked, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. If this was her new home there was no point in starting out soft and letting someone hurt her on the first day.
Jeremy reached for her bag and picked it up for her, looking at her key before nodding in a new direction out of the cafeteria. “Bed’s not a nice as I’ve had, but it’s better than it used to be. No guard. We’ve got a few new police-like officers who are helping keep the peace, but that’s all they do.” Jeremy started walking assuming she’d follow. “I’ve been here a few days. Seems the most anyone’s been around is just short three weeks. No figments. Promise.”
Rori watched every move Jeremy made closely. He was being nice. Maybe even too nice. “Three weeks, huh?” she asked softly. Maybe this place was legitimately that new. Maybe she wasn’t going to get hurt. “It seems unreal,” she murmured, turning in the way he looked. “How do they pick people for this? Because what I did,” she sighed. “Nevermind. Were you in prison before this, then?” Rori asked, taking two very slow, cautious steps. Might as well make small talk, she figured. And keep the focus off of herself. After all, Jeremy seemed like someone who could weasel his way into any conversation and stay there, using every fact to his advantage.
“You aren’t the only one,” Jeremy said reassuring, thinking of Pippa and god only knew the host of things she’d done since arriving, let alone before. “We’re here for a variety of reasons and honestly, none of us are that sure. “I was as well though. New York Federal, but we’re from all over.” He started towards the closest stairwell to get her to her room.
Rori stopped walking, staring blankly at Jeremy. “You know, you shouldn’t be nice to me,” she said gently. She pondered what New York was like, how Jeremy had wound up in prison, but her thoughts were overrun with memories of getting hurt and she stopped pondering about his past and started looking for current motivation, her eyes conveying the distrust she felt. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“I shouldn’t? Why is that?” Jeremy asked, looking back at her confused. “Did something happen?” That was interesting.
Rori didn’t take a step, her eyes bouncing between her bag and Jeremy’s face. “I’m just not a good person. People aren’t supposed to be nice to people who do bad things,” she explained. “People aren’t nice to me. Not unless they want something out of it.”
Jeremy nodded. “Noted. You’re room’s upstairs.” He pointed in the right direction and started walking again. “Shall we?”
Rori bit her lower lip, running her hand over her hair to smooth it out and taking a few steps forward. “So what’d you do, anyway?” she asked softly. He was certain to ask her, and she already knew exactly what she’d say. The same thing she’d said for the last four years. Lying was as easy as reciting her ABCs anymore.
“Nothing. But I was arrested and convicted of insurance fraud. I was set up by someone I trusted.” Jeremy shrugged one shoulder and turned into the stairwell. “The elevator goes up as well, but I always like the stairs.”
Rori followed him carefully, taking each step one at a time and soaking in her new surrounding. Everyone was set up, it seemed. Although, with this man, she could maybe believe it. “Stairs are good. Keeping you in shape,” she said gently, mentally adding that they were more open and offered an escape route should something bad happen.
“That’s my logic. Plus my place is on the first floor in the other block, so I don’t get the opportunity much and the only way to the bar is through the elevators.” Jeremy smiled back at her, then continued up the steps to the second floor.
Rori stopped again, shaking her head. “Back up, can you repeat that, please? Or at least clarify,” she insisted. “Bar? As in ‘Order the adult beverage of your choice and relax’ bar? Or is that code for something related to prison-life?” Rori asked, a hint of hope in her voice. This absolutely, positively had to be a dream.
That got a laugh out of Jeremy as he kept walking even though she stopped. “Adult beverage variety. The bracelet they gave you? Serves as your credit card of sorts. They’ll give you a job and as you do your job you get paid and then you can spend the money at the bar if you so choose. I work there.”
“Room can wait. Let’s go to the bar,” Rori stated, half serious about the idea. Still, she knew better. She probably didn’t even have money yet. “I haven’t had an actual drink since I was too young to legally consume alcohol,” she chuckled. “This has got to be better than a dream. I probably died and went to heaven.”
Jeremy laughed again and pointed to the bag in his hand. “In here? Is real clothes and not that jumpsuit. And in your room? A private bathroom. Shower and tub, all yours. Trust me. That you want first then I say, pick out something for tonight and come to the party.”
Rori’s eyes grew wide. He was being far too nice and she knew that one day she’d be burned for it, but Jeremy was going to be her guide through the first couple of days, and she was going to let it happen. “Real clothes? Private bathroom? Maybe I don’t ever want to leave this place,” she chuckled. “But I don’t know about the party,” Rori stated, far less enthusiastic than before. “I don’t think that’s really my place. Especially on my first night here,” she reasoned, her voice dropping to a low level as she finished the sentence. Rori knew better than to get involved in something like that. It wasn’t safe. At least, not in her opinion.
“It’s rather nice isn’t it? Definitely a step up.” Though Jeremy had no plan to stick around. “You should come. It’ll be a good time and probably your best chance to not awkwardly meet the rest of us.”
Rori took in a deep breath. Yes, the facility was nicer than prison. And sure, she would have to meet everyone eventually. But was a masquerade party really something she wanted to take part in. “I’ll go,” she decided hesitantly. “On one condition.”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow, curious at the bargain. “I’ll bite. What condition?”
Rori smirked, blinking twice before looking up at him with innocent eyes. “You accompany me.”
There was a long moment where Jeremy considered that. He had other distractions to pay attention to, but nothing vital for the night. “I could be your escort.”
This couldn’t be a good idea and Rori was half tempted to kick herself. She glanced down at her orange jumpsuit and thought about it, though. She was a criminal. She could defend herself if he decided to do something inappropriate and if he decided to follow her lead, it could be very satisfying. “Find me a costume. I’m a size two. Bring it to my room and pick me up at eight,” Rori rattled off, her smirk staying tightly glued to lips and body relaxing slightly. “You won’t regret it, Jeremy. I promise,” Rori winked.
That made him laugh with a slight nod. “I’ll find something fitting. And I know I won’t. I wouldn’t do it if I thought I would.” Though Jeremy was already making a mental note to keep his guard up. He just didn’t trust people in general, and this one seemed to have her mind set on something. “Just down that way,” he said pointing towards where her door was. “And I’ll see you at eight?”
“I expect something sexy,” Rori informed, biting her lower lip as she turned to walk to her room. She paused, turning around and holding her hand out for her bag. “I think I may need those clothes,” she nodded, smiling. “And thanks for being nice to me, even though you probably shouldn’t be,” she said, her smile fading slightly. Rori would always be a vulnerable person no matter how much she tried to hide it.
Definitely keeping his guard up. “It’s my decision who to be nice to now isn’t it?” he told her after handing back the bag. “I’ll see you later.” He waved once over his shoulder then headed back the way he’d come, whistling to himself.
Rori watched him walk away, thinking for a moment about what being in the new place meant. Shrugging, she wandered to her room, unlocked the door, and started to get ready for her first night in a new place -- and her first date in over four years.