fuckitybye | 015

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Youth fucking wasted on the young my fucking arse.

[Private to Claire]
Did I fucking hear right? About the warden thing?

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Fucking seconded.

[Private]

Didn't mean to be a fucking arse about... all that shit, honestly.

And I don't mean to drag shit all back up, but your sisters better fucking appreciate your arse, mate.

If it's any fucking help my kid self liked your kid self's fucking accent.

Edited 2010-05-02 21:16 (UTC)

I'm fucking shocked she could understand it. I'm shocked anyone could fucking understand it.

Honest truth? I fucking hate football. Got no fucking time for it whatsoever and never fucking had. I expect you already fucking sussed that I figured out way fucking early to give the answer that wasn't going to get the shit kicked out of me by the cunts I went to school with.

Well, you know. Mum was a widow early and I was the fucking oldest, yeah? Someone had to look after the wee ones when she was working.

...they're good girls, they are. Got good kids too.

You've gotta learn pretty fucking quick that that question? Has fuck all to do with football.

Yeah, I fucking know it, mate. Not from your fucking point, but... yeah, I fucking know it.

How much younger than you were they?

Too fucking right.

Liz is four years younger and and Janet's six. Dad died not long after Janet came along, the tosser.* Well. Not his fucking fault. Fucking cancer.

*[Total personal fanon, for anyone who's watching. :\]

Least it wasn't his fucking fault.

Sorry, mate. You're a good fucking brother, but I expect you fucking knew that.

Fucking tried to be. Guess the girls turned out all right, so I must've not fucked up too badly. Not that this seems to have counted too fucking much for this place, but anyway.

Say, on another fucking subject—you've been here a while now, aye? So you know about some of the drama and ups and downs with the wardens and the inmates?

Yeah, well, my kids counted for fuck all in the grand scale of supervillain prison in fucking space.

...Aye, I guess so. Why?

I got some vampire twat in my ear wanting to vive le fucking revolution all over this place or something, and I mentioned I'd do some asking around to see what's gone before, you know? Have the inmates tried that sort of shit, how'd it go wrong, et fucking cetera.

Truth be told, given what I've seen of most of these cunts, I'm about as fucking keen on an uprising as I would be on a clowns' union strike at the circus, but I reckon it can't hurt to get some history.

I wouldn't trust a vampire twat as far as he could throw you, to be honest. I'd ask West, though, I heard he tried something similar, but I wasn't around for it.

...can't really say much on the subject from other experience either, we never pulled a riot in the seven years I was inside. But I will say, if there's one going down - you want in on it enough not to be tossed out as a fucking rat or wimp, and want out of it enough to deny you were responsible.

Yeah...is that a bad thing?

You tell me, love.

I'm really glad, if I can be honest with you. But also sad. I guess I just ignored that fact that you died before.

I don't trust the fucker either, which is why I'm hedging my bets. I'll talk to West, next chance I get.

And trust me, you don't survive over a fucking decade in Whitehall without learning the finer fucking points of plausible deniability.

Well. I appreciate it, I reckon.

Now, my question is, what's being a warden mean to you, then? And particularly with regard to this fucking case?

And you don't survive seven years in Broadmoor without learning the finer points of not getting your head kicked in and not getting thrown in fucking solitary.

Which is why you only get involved in sommat that's going to get somewhere.

Broadmoor. Fucking hell.

And yeah, fucking exactly. Which is why I'm trying to play this fucking bloodsucker in a way that he's useful but not too fucking dangerous.

Yeah. Not all of us are supervillains that got away with shit. Me and Wizardy McAncient are probably the only people who've been in a fucking prison.

Keep at it, but I'm not sticking my fists anywhere near vampire fucking business.

[ teasing. ] You better.

It means staying here until I've helped you. I want you to know I'm not going anywhere. I know I'm younger than you, I'm younger than almost everyone, but that doesn't mean I can't, or won't, do my job awesomely. I've had one Inmate graduate under me before. I know I can do it again. I already care about you, so if someone tries to mess with you, I hope you'll come to me first. The whole threatening thing...just please try to work on that, and in the very least, keep it as words and not taking them out into action.

About your file, can we please go over it together?

Go over it? What, now?

I just thought you would want to know what was in it. Maybe explain some things. I want this to be more about a team effort versus me telling you what to do and you resenting me.

Well, I suppose I can't fucking argue with that. Cleveland never did tell me what was in the fucking thing himself.

Does dinner work for you?

As good as anything else, I reckon.

I'll come by your cabin then. Thanks, Malcolm.

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