Another quite day for Jake, or so it seemed. Sit in the cell, wait for the meal of the day (if the guards felt that generous), trick Creeper into abusing himself (he'd feel guilty about it if the little thing weren't so odious and unlikeable), get ready to do it all over again tomorrow.
To be honest, it would probably be a bit more bearable if he hadn't been responsible for his own predicament. You don't walk into a man's domain and start causing trouble. Of course, he wouldn't have had to cause trouble if the guy wasn't such a colossal prick, but it also turned out he was also a pretty powerful magician.
In retrospect, Jake should have taken it easy with the drink; fighting the Horned King drunk was a less appealing proposal when sober, especially given where he ended up.
Oh well, live and learn, he guessed. He just needed to try and come up with a way out of this prison. The company are nice, but the hosts are condescending at best, the lodgings aren't so hot, and don't get him started on the food. Plus, he was getting a bit stir-crazy.
Still, there was the issue of the reinforced jail cell and the wards designed to keep him in. He sighed as he leaned back against the wall.
"Dammit, Gabe, I hate it when you're right," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Even when you're not here. 'Don't go around picking fights, try to think your way through things for a change...' Damn, I miss those days."
He suddenly stopped, his body rigid. He thought he heard footsteps coming his way. Not the heavy footsteps of some flunky, the dry rattling shuffles of a skeletal warrior, or the fumbling, soft treads of the diminutive Creeper. This seemed to be a more lively step. Like a young man or a boy.
Jake tried to look out of his jail cell and grab a peek of the newcomer. To his surprise, he was not met by a new guard or a new prisoner, but rather of a young, healthy, if skinny young boy. But what's he doing here? He raised his eyebrows when he saw the Keyblade in the boy's hand. Looks like this was his lucky day.
"Hey kid," he said, "mind helping me out here? I think I'd like to check out of this hotel, but I think management forgot to assign me my room key."
Renose said
He did the same thing to the boy's cell and then went over to the other 'special prisoner's' cell and unlocked it as well in the same manner, the magical barrier being no problem for both Reno and his Keyblade. After their cells were unlocked Reno's glove suddenly vanished from his hand and in front of him appeared a very large book, his glider. The book actually opened and Reno literally jumped into the pages, his body sinking into the pages as one would sink into a body of water. Not but a minute later he returned, floating up from the pages as one would emerge from water as the book closed. Around him were floating several plates of one of Reno's favorite dishes, pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes to be precise. There were enough plates for everyone floating around him. On them all were a stack of four pancakes that all had both syrup and butter on them as well as a fork, knife, and napkin on each plate. One plate floated towards each of them, including the dog. "I made you all pancakes, you should eat up. I heard prison food tastes awful in the game I was talking about". Again, he just gave a kind, innocent, childlike smile as he passed them the plates, which now floated in front of them waiting to be taken and eaten. The pancakes both looked and smelled delicious and if they were eaten they would also taste delicious as well.
Once free from his cell, Jake cut up and took his first step out of the cell, stretching almost blissfully, a wide grin on his face as he flexed his arms and legs, cringing a bit as his joints and sinews made cracking noises, fighting the cramps that had accumulated in his captivity.
"Thanks for the assist, kid," Jake said, sighing in relief. "Hoo, man feels good to be out of there... Though I think we need to get moving. I don't think management likes the idea of visiting hours."
Then he noticed the sumptuous meal of chocolate chip pancakes.
"On second thought, we really can't do much on an empty stomach, can we?" he said, giving a wide grin as he sat down to eat with the group.
If Renose had a healthy appetite, Jake's appetite could only be compared to a dragon's. He was putting away food like there was no tomorrow, only too glad to have such delicious fare after a few weeks of weak or stomach-turning gruel. His grin became more confident, and he was soon chatting casually with the rest, including the Keyblade wielder, whose name he found out Renose.
"Oh, no," Jake replied with a chuckle. "Prison food isn't
as bad as you think - it's
worse. Seriously, I think that Creeper spits in the food or something. I would say the others do too, but the mercenaries and orcs don't waste food, and skeletons don't have salivary glands.
"I'm Jake, by the way. John Grendell, but my friends call me Jake. You know, it's a shame you summoned these. I'd love to get the recipe for these later - well, when we get out of here.
"Speaking of which, what's the plan? You got into this prison to free us and all, and that's great, but I'm thinking we need to get cracking soon or the guards might suspect something."
