[ ACTION / CAMERA FEED FROM PRISON YARD ]

[signatures]

[ Well.

Prison isn't exactly a place Eames thought he'd wind up in, in this fair city of theirs. There was that one close call with the overenthusiastic self defense, but that'd ended up in an ankle bracelet and time out spent at home - definitely not locked up in a prison with a bunch of the undead serving as guards. Not exactly Eames' cup of tea, what with a general aversion to the ghoulish - and if all the ghouls are working their ways up the ranks, here, might be that a certain Cobb-faced zombie happens to be one of the populace.

So.

Eames is less than enthused.

It seems the City does still know how to deal with the occasional consequence or six - it would figure; no boat ride has ever been good news here, thus far for him.

For the day, during the recreational period between lunch and dinner, Eames sits himself out in the courtyard - not working out, not really socializing, but definitely eyeing some of the ghouls up. ]

So the deities' solution to the wandering undead within the City is to let them run a prison instead?

[ The question is, though -

can these ghouls run fast enough to catch up, if he made a break for it?

Can he run and/or swim fast enough? ]

Comments

[synanthrope]

Ah, sarcasm.

That's a yes, then.

[signatures]

Are you disappointed in me?

[synanthrope]

At getting caught, or the sarcasm?

[signatures]

Whichever resonates more strongly with you.

[synanthrope]

No.

But I may disorganize my shoes.

[She would never.]

[signatures]

Whatever for?

[synanthrope]

You worked so hard o their arrangement.

[signatures]

So you'd do it to spite me?

[synanthrope]

Just a little.

[Pause]

Actually, I wouldn't. Do it at all.

[signatures]

So now you're a liar.

[synanthrope]

Are you trying to upset me?

[signatures]

No, never.

Only teasing, Miss Saya.