poly_chromatic

Entry tags:

reservoir dogs - mr. white

53

[It's not the network device that is projecting the image. It is a high mounted camera in the yard of the prison. The water around the island is blue and inviting just beyond the fences. That is if you can see it. The camera can't. Mr. White can't. Right now he is leaning up on the fence, staring out. He doesn't have any sunglasses to hide his expression. Concentration, worry, subtle despair.

After a moment he pushes off.

The other inmates are working out, smoking, socializing. He walks and keeps to himself, walking stiffly and with purpose. Don't mess with me. Lips purse and he starts to whistle.]

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Well, yeah, nobody around here's normal, are they? Everyone's got some kinda magic powers, or shit like that.

[Except for him, apparently. And apparently not White, either.]

Yeah, same goes to you, man. 'n when we get outta here, maybe...

[A shrug.]

Well, like I said before. I'm always open to, y'know, partnership opportunities. Business.

Everybody that's not me or you.

[He says to really put all the facts down. Or maybe to check personally with Jimmy. If he were superhuman like the types in Orange's comic books, White wouldn't be here.]

Dunno what sort of business we can undertake in these parts but I got your back.

[The tone of voice drops low in case there's anyone around to snitch on them.]

Well, yeah, I ain't got shit like that, just a gun. And I ain't even got a gun in here, obviously.

[And he really doesn't like the feeling of being without his gun.]

There's always opportunities, right? We'll figure somethin' out.

Sure.

[Though he's not sure what or were or how this will intersect with connections at the casino. Right now an alliance here in the joint would be ideal.]

Keep your chin up.

You too. 'n let me know if you need me to stab anyone for you around here.

[He's only kind of kidding.]

Same, pal. They better not get on you because of that.

[There's a head lean to his leg.]

[He shakes his head.]

Don't worry about it. People give me a lotta shit for it, but that's a mistake they don't tend to repeat.

I worry.

[An honest, soft admission.]

I wouldn't want to have anything happen to you.

[Jimmy's had enough happen. The war. Life here. That shit is a bunch to swallow. Larry says nothing more, already that's too fond. They've just barely become friends.]

[That means a hell of a lot to Jimmy, the fact that someone gives a shit. Most people don't. Most people find him hard to deal with.]

Thanks. You too, y'know? I like havin' you around.

Same.

[Meaning that they are indeed friends.]

...does anyone on the outside know you're in here?

[A roommate he thinks. Maybe a dear friend. Someone they could contact for anything if needed be. White is sure that Orange is still out there. He hasn't had the guts to approach on his own. The jail bird is back in the cage again. Humiliating.]

Well, maybe Penny. I kinda doubt she's stuck in here, 'n she mighta noticed I was gone. Does anyone know you're here?

[He licks his lips. Sounds like Jimmy may have a girl. Or just a friend.]

...No. Not now at least. I dunno.

[Owning up to being locked up is a touchy subject.]

Do you think they'd let us write in here? I'm not fixed in place, no fucking way but if we gotta be...

[As much as Jimmy might wish it to be otherwise, Penny's just a friend.]

Yeah, think they probably would, assumin' we didn't write anythin', y'know... suspicious. Why, you wanna write to someone?

[Pity. Seems like Jimmy can't get a break either. White looks down at his feet and then sorta sniffs like he's clearing his nose. That's what he's doing. When he lifts his head he's still not quite making direct eye contact. Better to keep your eyes on the yard and all.]

Yeah. I think that might be the only way to get in contact. The Network is probably watched like a hawk.

Okay, well, I think it's probably the best chance we've got of talkin' to anyone on the outside. Small note, nothin' noticeable, y'know? Maybe we can get someone to break us outta here.

[He's only half kidding.]

Fuck, man.

[He smiles. Laughs even a little.]

You're a funny guy, Jimmy.

[When he settles down he thinks and thinks real hard.]

I dunno if it would happen. Maybe. Maybe not.

[Good chance at not. He's a cop. What good would that do? Larry doesn't breathe a word. Don't want to tarnish anyone's badge.]

A little help wouldn't be so bad. Some creature comforts, you know? Candy. Cigarettes. Shaving cream.

Well, I'd've suggested we write to Al if we wanted to get broken out, but I got the feelin' he's around here somewhere, too.

[C'mon, a murder boat? Al would have been all over that.]

I sure could use some damn cigarettes, though. 'n there's no way in hell I'm gonna go without shavin'. I'd look like an idiot.

Al? Here?

[More likely than he'd think!]

Well. Can't say we don't got friends on the inside. Push comes to shove, I think we can work ourselves around.

[The gangs of the prison don't appear to be too overbearing.]

Same here.

[It makes White look older obviously.]

I got smokes. Heh. Here.

[He fishes out the box that's in his back pocket. It has seen better days but it is there.]

Consider it free of charge.

[One lousy, blessed cigarette.]

Thanks. I owe you one. Thought I was about to start losin' my mind.

[And Jimmy losing his mind almost always turns into a fistfight, and that never turns out well for anyone.]

Okay, I think we can work this thing out. We try to communicate with some people on the outside, maybe, try'n see what they're thinkin', 'n then, if nothin' else works, we find a way to break ourselves out. We just gotta stick together.

[One smoke will prevent one time. White is a gentleman, he'll go as far as to offer up to light is cig but with no fancy lighter. Just a match if Jimmy would let him.]

I can get behind that.

[Come to think of it, he'll take a smoke for himself.]

Play it cool. I sorta think that they want us here to keep us stewing. Then we'll fuck up. Then we're here longer.

[Jimmy has no need for a fancy lighter -- he pretty much always uses matches himself anyway. He takes a relieved inhale of smoke, nodding.]

Yeah, they're trynna get us pissed off 'cause they just threw us in here 'n we haven't been charged with anythin', y'know? No trial, no nothin'. I bet they expect us to riot, or somethin'.

[More power to him. They'll smoke together like free men.]

Maybe that's what the letter business was all about. Get us comfortable then fuck us over again. But man, you wanna get the chance. And you don't know if you don't try.

[He nods again.]

Yeah, maybe. But y'know, maybe this is just a particularly bad curse, 'n it'll be over soon. Like when the whole zombie thing happened, y'know?

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