kickinitoldschool

Prison Life

Hey Rock Killjoy, I was reading your post and just wanted to make a suggestion about the exercises Jasmine was doing. Not trying to tell you how or what to write, but doing 80 one-handed push ups is tough to do at once, and 130 sit ups isn't that hard to do. I'm about 160 pounds, skinny and tall, and I would be exhausted after fifty regular push ups, but could easily top 130 sit ups. Anyways, thought I might point that out for future reference.

Prison Life

Benjamin was sincerely grateful that he had managed to get some grub down his gullet after who knows how long by his lonesome in the unadorned solitary cell. It became clear that no food was coming after what Boyo, who actually had spent the first few hours counting down the seconds, then minutes, than hours, did not receive a visit in the form of the small slat on the door sliding open. So be it. If they weren't going to feed him, then they had no intentions of keeping him couped up for too long. It would be sooner rather than later that he was allowed to leave, and return to general population. When he realized this, he smiled softly, and decided to go through some exercises to get his blood pumping and keep his mind free and clear of so much as the potential for the boredom that had led to his stay in the small and surprisingly lit room. He started by facing away from the wall that would allow for the maximum clearance, and placed his hands palm down on the floor before raising his feet and planting them on the wall. He started doing push ups after his feet were a good yard above the concrete floor, quick as he could with his back straight. He could have easily continued beyond fifty but when he reached the fiftieth push up, he started in on doing sit ups. He continued alternating exercises in this fashion for a good long while, sweat beading and eventually dripping from his taunt, muscular frame. He had gone past that key point in the exercises where a weak individual would find the strain unbearable, had gone right passed it to that point where the ache had long since ascended past burning and transformed into a strangely comforting warmth, a blissful sense of utter strength that washed the weariness he should have felt out to sea and miles from his being. He could not see it, but his eyes were bright as stars and full as a harvest moon hanging low in the night sky. If he had seen someone looking the way he looked, he would have been wondering what they had done to make their eyes light up, why their pupils were so large, why they were sweating and on the verge of hyper-ventilating. Of course, he could not see himself. Nor did he care to. He was too busy enjoying one of the last freedoms afforded to a man left in his position, and that was the act of perfecting one's body, of eradicating the human weaknesses one could enjoy outside of prison, where being as wary as he was of everyone else would be considered paranoia, not common sense. He kept on this way until his limbs ceased to respond, and the rush of endorphins that had earlier flooded his body was spent. Then, he sat, and Boyo fought his breathing under control. When his pulse and breathing had regulated, he took off his slippers and slept with them for a pillow. There was no better way to kill time, and he was finally tired enough to do so.

Prison Life

One more thing: how obvious is the serveilance that is in place throughout the prison, and how extensive is it? Do the guards have the means to detect audio or just visual? The players don't need to know that, but might be able to find out through RPing.

Prison Life

To put my two cents in on the issue of an inmate being a part of the medical staff or even helping out, it seems highly unlikely. Too much small contraband--drugs, things that could be used as weapons or easy made into weapons--would be available in the hospital to allow anyone uninjured access to it, and prison hospitals generally aren't reknowned for taken good physical care of inmates, to say nothing of their mental health. In prisons people are more likely to receive psychiatric meds, but I know a person with schizophrenia who was locked up in jail for several months without any medicine for his illness. Other jobs, such as working in the cafeteria, or doing menial labor, inmates are afforded a chance to do, but always supervised, and always with a careful accounting of anything they make use of. If anything goes missing, even the smallest bit of metal, they would immediately lock down the prison and run a thorough sweep of every inmates' cell, even if they were not present when the item went missing, in the event they passed the contraband on to someone else for safekeeping. Inmates may also be searched, who knows whether they would do body cavity searches in such an instance.
I am curious about what form solitary takes in the prison. Sensory deprivation--as in no light, no sound, no human contact--are pretty common, and sometimes the places where someone is kept are very small, forcing them into an uncomfortable position for long periods.
I was also wondering if you had put any thought into whether or not the prison includes a common area, and a recreation area, or whether or not inmates are allowed outdoors. If so, how long might they be allowed to be there in a 24 hour period? Such an institution would be highly regimented, everything going on a set schedule every day, no stops no breaks. Food for thought I guess.
It goes without saying that there are some facilities that maintain a twenty-three hour a day lockdown, with one hour allotted for recreation outdoors, the rest of the inmates' time being spent in a cell. That is an extreme example, of course, ad one which severely limits chances for interactions between characters.

Prison Life

The wonderful thing about smoking meth was that no matter the state of things in the real world, when you were lit, you weren't in the real world. The people around you could be thieves, whores, murderers, lacking respect worthy qualities, incapable of being trusted, and it didn't amount to a tinker's damn. It was all only as real as a sitcom observed from where Boyo went in his mind when he was high, and where he went, there was nothing he couldn't handle one way or the other. In the end, things changed, things got confused. He wasn't himself, was not quite human in the way he looked at the world he drifted through like a ghost, a phantasm of the man who had let nothing stand between him and who he wanted to be or how he wanted to live. It hadn't been real, but it had been really fun.
The thoughts of crystals cooking in a bowl hit him right between the eyes, and without even realizing it, he began to tap his standard issue slipper on the floor, his perpetual scowl growing deeper, his blue eyes tinged with the blackness of his discontent. He had ceased detoxing, but still the thoughts came, as he was sure they would for a good long while, whether he liked it or not. He looked at the other convicts, his fingers tapping against his side without any distinguishable rhythm. It occurred to him, as he fantasized about the feel of the burn in his lungs after taking a hit, about the smell, the instant shift from zero to a hundred miles an hour, that he was losing his edge in a way that he could not afford to do. He was giving to much away. He was slipping, and if you found yourself slipping often enough, for long enough, you would fall and never get back up.
Benjamin stilled himself, with difficulty. His expression eased up a bit. He berated himself internally for his lapse in vigilance. Anyone could have made a move against him then, and he would have reacted to slow to stay alive. He continued watching the others. He--somehow--contented himself with waiting.
They were an interesting bunch, that much was certain. A few looked like they were N.T.B.F.W. for sure, like the lady marine. She had nearly twenty pounds and a few inches of height on Benjamin Raskille, and a real sour look about her. The others were mostly equally dour, but some were just so damned young! It was very trying not to view them as, well, prey. Some were just asking for it, like the scrawny school girl with the delicate features and the stink of unfamiliarity with being locked up coming off of her in waves. She was seated next to a guy who was rather pudgy, with darting eyes that spoke of either fear, madness, or excitement at the sight of the pretty young thing, seemingly unaware of the slobs eyes playing over her hungrily. Boyo had no time for degenerates. They would either grovel before him, or he would break them. Besides, something was called for to kill the creeping boredom that threatened to make him do something really stupid.
Benjamin made a slow sweep around the cafeteria, moving like he had no purpose, as if he were not trying to get next to the big guy, who was too busy undressing the school girl with his eyes to pick up on the circling of the shark. By the time he was close to enough to reach out and touch the other inmate, the bigger man finally spotted him, but he reacted predictably. As he attempted to stand, Boyo threw a one-two combo of punches into his kidneys, an elbow to the temple, and as the man slumped, Boyo dragged him out of his seat and onto the floor, stomping on the other's head and ribs as quickly and with as much force as he could muster. Guards shouted for him to lay flat on the ground, charging at him from here and there, but he waited for them to start swinging their batons before he stopped, allowing them to see that the blows they landed barely phased him. He'd been beaten enough times to take a beating like a man, and the batons weren't any bigger around then the switches his dad had laid into him with, sometimes until Boyo had passed out from the pain. As they handcuffed him and dragged him out of the cafeteria in a stress position so he couldn't stand upright without hurting himself, he swung his head around and smiled at the girl, winking with an eye that was fast swelling from a good shot the guards had got in.
"See y'all later. I gotta' go have some time to myself." He said, still grinning as they took him away.

Prison Life

Snoogins. Let the brutality commence! Muwahahahaha...

Dark Paradise (Supernatural Dystopian Future)

I don't think Vilos would be privy to such info concerning the Legion, as they are a relatively recent development and he hasn't been involved with the bandits for a few years. I will pretend I didn't read that bit at all. As you said, I will leave the decision up to NewSun. I remember something in his character sheet about A1 doing his best to avoid being revealed as an android, and won't force his hand when it comes to the physical design of his character, especially since it would potentially create plot threads he might not appreciate.

Dark Paradise (Supernatural Dystopian Future)

I had a question concerning the android characters. Vilos Anderien has infrared vision, meaning that he is able to see heat signatures. What sort of heat signatures would an android potentially put off. I think it is fair to assume that certain mechanical parts, such as a power supply, would generate heat, but would the rest of their bodies as well, or would he spot them for what they are right off? Something to consider. After all, the androids appear human. Is it possible that they do so because they are partially biological in their anatomy so far as the external parts go, like in Terminator? If so, he might not be able to notice their true nature after all.

Dark Paradise (Supernatural Dystopian Future)

EnsoNoctis said
I wonder if Vilos and Ella would get along. Their abilities are somewhat similar, but Ella but her forte is with the sword. Their personalities are not going to mesh, that's for sure.

I think that for Vilos, the personality of another person he finds himself working with would not necessarily be an issue even if it conflicted with his on, just so long as they were an asset rather than a liability to the group's ability to achieve its goals. In terms of social interactions, on the other hand, he would probably be a pain in the butt for someone he had a difficult time respecting or relating to due to his sheer arrogance. She has one distinct advantage over some of the other characters in terms of earning Vilos' respect, however: she is female.

Dark Paradise (Supernatural Dystopian Future)

Hello people. Been absent myself for a bit ad would love to post IC for this. I have a question concerning the bandits. Are they a well established group that has been around a while, thus having some notoriety, or are they relatively unknown? I ask because Vilos spent time associating with different bandit crews and I didn't know if he would be clued in to any information concerning this specific group of outlaws or not. If not, I totally understand, and if so, I don't want to impose upon your creative control over the NPC's by writing stuff about them. I will hold off on doing so until I hear from you, Tigre, but thought it prudent to ask. Let me know if what I post conflicts with what you are looking for in terms of the setting of M'alo.