[Central Prison is a large maximum security prison deep within the heart of the country, far away from any big city. While pretty much anyone from common thief to mass murderer can be sent here, it is primarily reserved for those serving prison sentences of longer than ten years. In fact, over half of the population has a life sentence and knows that there is no way out of those cold stone walls, not even in death.
The guards think they control the population here. They carry batons and guns and get physical with anyone who steps out of line. And the prison warden is similar-minded, exerting his power over every prisoner in an effort to extract some amount of control over what he sees as 'unruly beasts'. Truly this is not a place for the faint of heart, and many crumble and fall in line after a few chance encounters with authority.
But the true person controlling the population is hidden deep within the prison walls, serving out what would be a life sentence for most people.
Bradley Bain. He's currently on year 100 of a 250 year sentence for a crime so heinous that it doesn't need to be spoken. Rumors have spread about him since his first day in the prison; rumors of how he is the son of a devil and that is how his heart is so wicked, rumors of how he kills anyone who crosses him, rumors of the illegal torturing magic he practices at night, rumors of how an evil man like him could never possibly be let out and that he will have more time added to his sentence when he reaches the end.
Rumors of how the government plans to execute him, once anyone who would come to his defense has passed away.
Seeing the man himself though, it's hard to give any weight to those rumors. His lopsided smile is almost always present on his face as he jokes around with the other prisoners and plays dice games. He's the first to teach newbies what to do to avoid the harsh punishments from the guards and warden. And he's the one that the other prisoners turn to when they have a problem that needs taking care of. By all appearances, those rumors are baseless.
Zahid can only find out the truth by talking to the man though, and as it turns out there is an opening in the game of dice one night. It's Brad who invites Zahid to play even, calling the man over to the circle of players during the evening free time.]
Oi, newbie! Come join us. You any good at dice?
[Regardless of how long Zahid has been in prison, he is still a newbie in Brad's eyes.]
[ A maximum security prison like this was not for the faint of heart. That's exactly what Zahid was - faint of heart. For a man gifted with the magic of good fortune, the series of events that led him to where he is now cannot be more unfortunate. It all started with a night at the dice table, just like this. Born to human parents, Zahid has always been regarded as blessed, having been spontaneously chosen by nature or some higher power to possess magic. As if that wasn't lucky enough, the magic he had the greatest disposition for turned out to be the magic of good fortune itself. Many would grasp their extremely blessed circumstances, using the privileges they were granted to soar to amazing heights. In someone else's hands, this power would make them great. Nature was fair. Zahid had little inspiration and even lesser ambition, a simple man who did not have the disposition to be anything more than that. Irresponsible, lascivious, timid and lazy, he used the small magic he had to keep a steady flow of income by gambling at the casino. And then he would spend it, of course, on food, lovers and all sorts of pleasures.
But that's not the sort of life that would land him in a maximum security prison.
He's been sentenced to 50 years for manslaughter, basically a lifetime for a person with a regular lifespan. How did a cowardly man even accomplish this? When you keep collecting the chips at the poker table, you're going to piss the wrong person off. When you piss the wrong person off, they might try to corner you in a dark alleyway with a blade, frenzied and aiming for your life. Zahid was supposed to die that day. Instead, they found him covered in blood, with a corpse on the ground beside him, bleeding from a stabbing. Just why would anyone believe his story that this man tripped on a conveniently placed banana peel on the ground and landed on his own sword? It's so comical that it's exactly the sort of joke that would ruin his life.
At least he's still alive. Or something. He should ... feel lucky about it? He doesn't. A timid man who isn't great at fighting, prison has been absolutely brutal on Zahid, and while he's normally quite a relaxed and fun-loving person, he's lost a lot of energy and weight since his incarceration. The food was bad, the people were scary, and he doesn't have a single friend yet, which is hard on a normally sociable person. He's been roughed up a few times by the other inmates too, but his magic usually kicks in before anyone successfully seriously wounds him.
Not wanting any trouble, he avoids anyone who looks like they could harm him, and this definitely includes the kingpin within the walls, whom he's heard such nasty rumours about. Though they didn't seem half as bad from afar, Zahid still didn't want to draw attention to himself if it meant getting a target painted on his back.
Picking at the slop they've put on his tray, he raises his head to meet Bradley's gaze when called. ]
Huh? Uh, yeah, I guess I'm pretty good.
[ With his lucky curse that worked involuntarily, he was very, very good, but that meant nothing here. Not wanting to offend the other man, he doesn't decline the offer, slowly getting up and moving over. ]
Are you playing for something? Or just for fun? [ Not like they have money to exchange in prison. ]
Cigarettes mostly. Can't get enough of those around here.
[Some lucky prisoners do get care packages from family members. Others manage to bum cigarettes off of guards. Still others have a smuggling ring. Given how frequently cigarettes pop up in the prison- always the same paper and same quality of tobacco too, mysteriously enough- the guards have given up on confiscating all of them. And with a lack of money in the prison, any kind of vice becomes a valuable trading tool. It looks like Brad and the three others present are throwing a few cigarettes around for this game.]
If ya don't got anything to offer I can loan you a couple to get started.
[This, however, is absolutely a trap. Those lucky enough to win back what Brad offers get off easily, but those that are unlucky? They end up owing Brad favors, and that's never a good position to be in. 'Friendly' is an accurate term for Brad, but 'benevolent' isn't.
The three other men sitting around the open spot look much bigger and more imposing than Brad, who is only 182 centimeters tall and doesn't look nearly as strong as most prisoners here, but even they stop and listen when Brad speaks. If Brad is inviting someone to play, then they'll let the newbie play. Whether the offer can be refused or not remains to be seen.]
[ Realistically speaking, did he really have the option to refuse? Even if he knew that a 'loan' in a place such as this was always some sort of trap, offending the man running the prison behind the walls would be an even bigger misstep. Those huge, burly men were listening to him like obedient lapdogs. He had to be so dangerous on his own, or remarkably charismatic, to earn this level of respect. Zahid didn't want to find out if it was the former or latter.
He wonders how much Brad knew about his luck magic. Zahid cannot exactly control it, so it might kick in during the game and turn the dice in his favour. Is that going to piss the other man off, leading to bad consequences? Or maybe his luck magic might actually cause him to lose the game, if only because that might be the more favourable outcome compared to being cornered in the shower later on and beat up. Honestly, even he can't predict what his own magic will do. Luck was a fickle thing like that.
There's nothing he can do but join Brad at the table, sieving past the much larger and scarier-looking men and taking his seat. ]
I don't really have anything on me, so I'm gonna need the help. [ He knows it puts him in this man's debt and he's accepted that now. Actually, he's starting to think this might be fun, being a gambler at his core. ]
What are we playing? [ There were several dice games and he knows most of them. ]
[Brad passes the newbie three cigarettes to get him started. The poor guy look scared at being in prison and Brad can't help but wonder what he could have possibly done to end up in a place like this. Brad silently resolves to go easy on him when he inevitably loses the dice game and end up in Brad's debt. He doesn't normally cut people slack, but this guy doesn't seem like the type to take advantage of a tiny bit of kindness.
Brad leans in to pick up two dice, both six-sided. He then holds them up for Zahid to see.]
You put your bet on any number 2 through 12, excluding 7. Then everyone takes turns rolling the dice. If anyone rolls your number, you get everyone's bet. But if anyone rolls a 7, then their bet gets added to the pot. If ya roll a number nobody has and it's not a 7, then the next person rolls. The only way to claim the pot is to bet on 2 or 12 and get that in a roll.
[Currently the pot has 12 cigarettes in it, while everyone else has their own small pile to bet with. Brad has the most out of everyone there, but not by much.]
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The guards think they control the population here. They carry batons and guns and get physical with anyone who steps out of line. And the prison warden is similar-minded, exerting his power over every prisoner in an effort to extract some amount of control over what he sees as 'unruly beasts'. Truly this is not a place for the faint of heart, and many crumble and fall in line after a few chance encounters with authority.
But the true person controlling the population is hidden deep within the prison walls, serving out what would be a life sentence for most people.
Bradley Bain. He's currently on year 100 of a 250 year sentence for a crime so heinous that it doesn't need to be spoken. Rumors have spread about him since his first day in the prison; rumors of how he is the son of a devil and that is how his heart is so wicked, rumors of how he kills anyone who crosses him, rumors of the illegal torturing magic he practices at night, rumors of how an evil man like him could never possibly be let out and that he will have more time added to his sentence when he reaches the end.
Rumors of how the government plans to execute him, once anyone who would come to his defense has passed away.
Seeing the man himself though, it's hard to give any weight to those rumors. His lopsided smile is almost always present on his face as he jokes around with the other prisoners and plays dice games. He's the first to teach newbies what to do to avoid the harsh punishments from the guards and warden. And he's the one that the other prisoners turn to when they have a problem that needs taking care of. By all appearances, those rumors are baseless.
Zahid can only find out the truth by talking to the man though, and as it turns out there is an opening in the game of dice one night. It's Brad who invites Zahid to play even, calling the man over to the circle of players during the evening free time.]
Oi, newbie! Come join us. You any good at dice?
[Regardless of how long Zahid has been in prison, he is still a newbie in Brad's eyes.]
no subject
But that's not the sort of life that would land him in a maximum security prison.
He's been sentenced to 50 years for manslaughter, basically a lifetime for a person with a regular lifespan. How did a cowardly man even accomplish this? When you keep collecting the chips at the poker table, you're going to piss the wrong person off. When you piss the wrong person off, they might try to corner you in a dark alleyway with a blade, frenzied and aiming for your life. Zahid was supposed to die that day. Instead, they found him covered in blood, with a corpse on the ground beside him, bleeding from a stabbing. Just why would anyone believe his story that this man tripped on a conveniently placed banana peel on the ground and landed on his own sword? It's so comical that it's exactly the sort of joke that would ruin his life.
At least he's still alive. Or something. He should ... feel lucky about it? He doesn't. A timid man who isn't great at fighting, prison has been absolutely brutal on Zahid, and while he's normally quite a relaxed and fun-loving person, he's lost a lot of energy and weight since his incarceration. The food was bad, the people were scary, and he doesn't have a single friend yet, which is hard on a normally sociable person. He's been roughed up a few times by the other inmates too, but his magic usually kicks in before anyone successfully seriously wounds him.
Not wanting any trouble, he avoids anyone who looks like they could harm him, and this definitely includes the kingpin within the walls, whom he's heard such nasty rumours about. Though they didn't seem half as bad from afar, Zahid still didn't want to draw attention to himself if it meant getting a target painted on his back.
Picking at the slop they've put on his tray, he raises his head to meet Bradley's gaze when called. ]
Huh? Uh, yeah, I guess I'm pretty good.
[ With his lucky curse that worked involuntarily, he was very, very good, but that meant nothing here. Not wanting to offend the other man, he doesn't decline the offer, slowly getting up and moving over. ]
Are you playing for something? Or just for fun? [ Not like they have money to exchange in prison. ]
no subject
[Some lucky prisoners do get care packages from family members. Others manage to bum cigarettes off of guards. Still others have a smuggling ring. Given how frequently cigarettes pop up in the prison- always the same paper and same quality of tobacco too, mysteriously enough- the guards have given up on confiscating all of them. And with a lack of money in the prison, any kind of vice becomes a valuable trading tool. It looks like Brad and the three others present are throwing a few cigarettes around for this game.]
If ya don't got anything to offer I can loan you a couple to get started.
[This, however, is absolutely a trap. Those lucky enough to win back what Brad offers get off easily, but those that are unlucky? They end up owing Brad favors, and that's never a good position to be in. 'Friendly' is an accurate term for Brad, but 'benevolent' isn't.
The three other men sitting around the open spot look much bigger and more imposing than Brad, who is only 182 centimeters tall and doesn't look nearly as strong as most prisoners here, but even they stop and listen when Brad speaks. If Brad is inviting someone to play, then they'll let the newbie play. Whether the offer can be refused or not remains to be seen.]
no subject
He wonders how much Brad knew about his luck magic. Zahid cannot exactly control it, so it might kick in during the game and turn the dice in his favour. Is that going to piss the other man off, leading to bad consequences? Or maybe his luck magic might actually cause him to lose the game, if only because that might be the more favourable outcome compared to being cornered in the shower later on and beat up. Honestly, even he can't predict what his own magic will do. Luck was a fickle thing like that.
There's nothing he can do but join Brad at the table, sieving past the much larger and scarier-looking men and taking his seat. ]
I don't really have anything on me, so I'm gonna need the help. [ He knows it puts him in this man's debt and he's accepted that now. Actually, he's starting to think this might be fun, being a gambler at his core. ]
What are we playing? [ There were several dice games and he knows most of them. ]
no subject
Brad leans in to pick up two dice, both six-sided. He then holds them up for Zahid to see.]
You put your bet on any number 2 through 12, excluding 7. Then everyone takes turns rolling the dice. If anyone rolls your number, you get everyone's bet. But if anyone rolls a 7, then their bet gets added to the pot. If ya roll a number nobody has and it's not a 7, then the next person rolls. The only way to claim the pot is to bet on 2 or 12 and get that in a roll.
[Currently the pot has 12 cigarettes in it, while everyone else has their own small pile to bet with. Brad has the most out of everyone there, but not by much.]
Does that make sense to ya?