catch-all; cross my heart then I hope to die with a peace of mind

[prisonking]

who: Michael Scofield + Various
what: Catch-all
when: March, pre and post underground mission
where: City planning, communal Housing, et al.
warnings: Possible mentions of self-harm, drug use, child abuse, and mental illness. Potential acts of violence.

Starters in comments. PM if you'd like to start something.

Comments

james flint; you're beyond guessing that i'm beyond desperate

[prisonking]

[ Michael isn’t ready to call it quits. He’s been running back and forth between the wall and the office all day, tracking progress and keeping records of the damage as it’s discovered. The reports are endless, and the repairs will take days. If they’re lucky, and extermination proceeds as planned, the power-grid will be patched to 75% functionality over the next forty-eight hours, and fully restored by the end of the week.

He’ll sleep when the last teams have cleared out from underground. Until then he needs to be awake, and aware, in case of an emergency. Right now he’s barely one or the other. Sweaty, dirty, and exhausted, he needs a shower, a strong cup of coffee, and a change of clothes. Afterwards he’ll head back to test the structural integrity of the last generator coffin before tech support are allowed in with heavy equipment.

Michael barely lifts his head upon entering the elevator and jamming the button to his floor. His face is streaked with dirt, and everything he’s wearing is going into the garbage as soon as he gets in the door to his unit. What isn’t ragged is stained with grease, sweat or blood. He’s mostly avoided the fighting, but being a mechanic under extreme circumstances is hazardous in its own right. Michael doesn’t need to see his skin to know he’s black and blue beneath the dirt.

When the doors shut and Michael finally glances up, more out of habit than any actual interest in his surroundings, he’s only half-surprised to see a familiar face. It’s been a while since his first week in the city, back when he’d had all the time in the world to meet people. For all that he’s sore, tired and stressed out, Michael’s more comfortable in Riverview now than he was then.

He manages a smile. Genuine, somehow, albeit frayed at the edges. ]

James.

[ Almost as soon as he speaks the elevator grinds to a halt. His smile fades. ]

[diagenesis]

[Elevators are a convenience. Not one he chances to indulge in often, or carelessly. He is neither superstitious nor mistrustful, but he is a hard man by nature and necessity. Hard men stay so by eschewing shortcuts.

But he is sporting an injury today - one hidden by dressings and clothing but that has nevertheless put a stutter in his confident gait - and he is neither too prideful nor too stubborn to acknowledge that rest will allow it quicker healing. He is not a young man, and old pirates do not become so by force of will alone.

He nods to the other man in acknowledgement. When the elevator stops, it merits no more than a 'hm'. He stoops slightly to investigate the paneling, though he is hardly so savvy to the modernity of the machine to be able to divine an immediate fix for the issue.]

Michael.

[A faint upward twitch of his eyebrow. His appearance is too remarkable to go unremarked, though James is rather lacking in sympathy for its disheveled nature. In an aside, as he presses a button,]

You look as if you've been busy.