[sub]In collaboration with [@MacabreFox][/sub]
[center][h3][color=B2A5D5]Isai [/color][color=8f9a7d]& [/color][color=6B8E23]Verena[/color][/h3][/center][hr]
Among the hustle and bustle, and the squirming and tussle, of women and man packed together arse-to-muscle, extended a single, slender hand from amidst the mass and at the mercy of jostle. In its palm, a sachet of tea, extended beneath the drip, drip of water fed by the cit-y from the stonework above. The water doth run, and the steeping just begun, though its temperature, a pity.

[color=B2A5D5]“Good sirs, if I may beg your pardon…”[/color] Isai said, his voice barely audible as his face was smushed betwixt one man’s shoulder and another’s pectoral. A moment passed and the shoulder rotated, granting the bard some reprieve. He took a sigh of relief, and his head craned through the cell for his compatriot, Verena Luscinia, as he felt his heart swell with pride over what seemed to be a moment of ingenuity. His voice tried to climb over the others and their griping of the inhumane conditions.

[color=B2A5D5]“See for yourself, my dear, and testify as witness to this newest utterance: hacking shortcuts and conveniences through life, merited by creativity and resourcefulness — a [i]life hack[/i] one may say — so behold, if one has acquired tea in a dungeon’s depths and be lacking in water, taking control of one’s fate, one may cup water found in thine hand and surely improve its quality! See?”[/color]

Indeed, the water dripping from the ceiling pooled in his hand and soak and leeched some flavor from the tea leaves in the sachet. He noisily slurped from his hand as if to demonstrate before a man’s cry shot through the prison, “Hey-ho! Look! That guy is drinking [i]shit water![/i]”

Isai immediately spat and sputtered and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before stammering, following the shout, [color=B2A5D5]“I-indeed, verily, where’s this hapless cur? I should have a laugh at the fool!”[/color]

The deflection worked to some extent and most of the crowd was looking around to see who was the culprit, apparently eager to sink their teeth into him, while Isai sank low beneath the crowd and ducking beneath arms and the like to reappear next to Verena’s side, looking a little pale-faced.

[color=B2A5D5]“I do sympathize for the poor, [i]unknown[/i] chap to have fallen for such fecal folly,”[/color] he muttered to her, not making eye contact or paying acknowledgement for what had transpired. The chaos of the current situation in this prison was such that he paid little heed even to the large khajiit lifting a dungeon door from its hinges, there being so much to have eyes on. Still, he wanted to mentally record everything he saw so as to perhaps convey the events that transpire in prison in a future book… that would conveniently exempt the little, insignificant detail that he shared a cell with the miscreants.

[color=6B8E23]“I did not witness there to be any excrement in the water, whatever do they mean?”[/color] Verena pondered to herself, loud enough for Isai to hear, though her attention drifted elsewhere, the finesse of the situation flying entirely over her head. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, her feet aching in her leather slippers from having to stand due to the more bodies the guards crammed into the cell. She noted a few Argonians, the massive Khajiit, Bretons and Redguards, was that a Bosmer? Yes, it was. And even the surprise handful of Nords. 

The heat of the bodies crammed into the cell filled her nostrils, an odour that made her wrinkle nose. Her attempt to identify the sources of the odours kept her occupied for the time being. Some smelled strongly of sweat, others of ale, there was the scent of perfume… She gagged, had someone passed flatulence? The audacity. Though… if duty calls, who was she to pass judgement? Growing hot under the collar of her cloak, Verena proceeded to unhook its simple clasp, folding the grey woolen fabric into a neat square, and held the bundle to her chest.

[color=6B8E23]“So much for the greatest sporting event of the era,”[/color] Verena sighed half-heartedly, harking to Isai’s desire to record the event. Oh, how he had urged her that it would be an exciting affair, and truly it was, until the riot broke out like grease spilled over an open flame. 

[color=6B8E23]“Any idea on how you will portray the riot? You likened it to a bar fight, after all.”[/color] She mused, though she wasn’t certain if her companion would recall his own words given the events of his losing consciousness shortly after.

[color=B2A5D5]“Mmm, yes,”[/color] the thespian mused in turn, massaging away the bump on the back of his head, wincing when he pressed too hard, [color=B2A5D5]“I’m sure I could make some… inferences, supplement the material with auxiliary interviews of the, ah, more active participants… oh, excuse me!”[/color]

As a guard paced in front of him, his attention was quickly fetched away from his commiseratory compatriot, and his hand nearly lunged out from between the bars to wave them down. 

[color=B2A5D5]“I beg your pardon, ser,”[/color] he pleaded, [color=B2A5D5]“but I am afraid there has been some confusion. See, I don’t truly belong here, as I’m sure you recall that I was in a sordid state which eluded the lucidity and wherewithal befitting of any acquiescence to the participation of a– ser?”[/color]

The guard, while initially uninterested in any pleas for mercy, at least began to hear him out until the syllables started getting too long and continued on their patrol down the swollen prison. Isai sighed and hung his head down, tuning out the droning of a dunmer man spitting his vile rhetoric towards the cellmates across the prison from him.There were only so many voices he could try to focus on, one suggesting some game of cards or dice, as if the guards would’ve allowed anything to enter the cells besides the clothes on their backs… and in the case of the massive khajiit, apparently not even that.

He pondered for a moment about the logistics of their ability to lock up mages. He could always attempt to magically open the lock, though it may be a higher grade more complex than what he was able to deal with, and the consequences that would come after were as clear as a flash of steel. What about conjurers? Technically, they’re always armed. He did think for a moment about conjuring a die – it wasn’t any more complex than a dagger, but he recalled the last time he tried performing such a parlor trick and the die ended up having a mouth and an opinion: [i]“You arrogant worm! Mark my words mortal, once I’m recorporealized I will flay you alive and wear your cock as a [b]hat![/b]”[/i]

Needless to say, being retraumatized by a daedric household trinket will not be on today’s agenda. Isai took a moment to recompose himself, standing at his full height, and spinning on his heel to greet Verena with pearly-white smile. [color=B2A5D5]“Make yourself comfortable, darling! I’ve exercised my leverage and spoke with the guards, so I am sure I will have gotten us out of this predicament in no time at all.”[/color]

Verena’s gaze snapped to Isai, and at his words of assurance she breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging in response. A vibrant and warm smile spread over her lips as she beamed at him, [color=6B8E23]“Oh what a relief, Isai! Truly a hero, indeed.”[/color]