Chapter One: At Maxwell It Begins

[Corruzione]

::Nic::Maxwell::

Nic sat with his back against the cold stone wall of his dormitory, empty on the dark afternoon. His hair was plastered down against his head, head bowed but dark eyes up and focused dead ahead at the opposite wall; an glare so intense it looked as though he was trying to bring down the establishment with simply that look. His arms were wrapped around bare knees - soaked trousers and light jacket discarded to the chair beside the radiator - he sat on the threadbare blanket in his black boxer shorts, the sound of his breathing amplified by the quiet.

He wondered over what had become of Abbey and James - he himself having not been punished due to his low key planning rather than harsh reactions. Yet. Of course, they would need a fool-proof plan to escape the high seurity of the orphanage - its cruel staff's harsh eyes, it's heavy locked doors, its vicious guard dogs, its high outer walls.

He shifted position, lying on his back and staring up at the stained ceiling, badly in need of some redecoration, one arm folded behind his head and the other lolling over the side. He twitched his fingers to a tune that played in his head, quickly disturbed by a loud siren - sounding like an air-raid - which signalled that it was time for dinner - no doubt some over-cooked meat and some under-cooked vegetables in meagre portions.

Nic pulled on his spare pair of trousers - rather too big for him in almost every dimension: the waist huge, the legs too long and too wide; and holes in the knees. He belted them and turned up the cuffs, padding bare foot down the exposed floorboards of the dorm room and the corridor, headed at a dirge towards the dining hall - hoping to find some more support for an escape attempt in the hall.

[Sir Raphael]

((Sorry, that was me.))

[Sierra]

::James::Maxwell::


James, who was kept in a "high security" holding cell, was only let out to go eat, and then he was secluded at a small table in the corner.

Though he was bedraggled and weary, he dressed in his best. Which was well, his usual apparel. His white dress shirt, black jeans, and a dark red tie, none of them well pressed.

He strolled down the long hallway, his large hands in his pockets, receiving menacing glares from any mistress he passed.

His posture was horrible, James' shoulder's slumping down and his head low. But he didn't give up hope. He knew that if anyone could come up with a way to get out of here, it was that crafty old Nic. They may not be on good terms, but James knew that Nic could do it. He had faith in him.

After getting his food, a thin sandwich with "meat" in it, he plopped down into the chair at the secluded table. A noise came from the chair because it squeaked against the hard, concrete flooring.

[Insieme]

Elvira:Maxwell:Room

Lying half-hazardly across the bed, ample chest rising and falling to slow, steady breaths, Elvira gazed absently at the damp-spotted ceiling of her cell.
Pupils dilated in the semi-darkness, she yawned and tensed momentarily, shifting to a less precarious position before finally rising and walking to the small window at the opposite end of the room.

Twirling a lock of hair, she twisted the black fibrous material through her fingers whilst surveying the orphanage grounds
dispassionately,green eyes hooded slightly.
Sighing, she stole away from the gloomy view, it doing nothing to lift her mood.
Apathetic and disinterested, she paced subconciously the length of her cell - back and forth, back and forth, not counting the number of strides nor the way in which the light crept slowly after her round the bare walls of stone.

Only the faint sound of an alarm bell stirred her from these intoxicating moods. Her passion haven left her long ago, the only thing that kept her sane was the hope that one day she'd escape. Though in doing so she would have to mix with the rest of the dogged mob in the orphanage, a challenge she was not looking forward to.

Not a recluse or hermit as such, she just retained a highly aloof and unerving air. Knowing her own intelligance and therefore looking down on the rest, she subsequently found herself alone a lot. Though what did she care? Solitude was more comfortable than fake smiles and forced laughter...not that anyone laughed much here...well, perhaps the matrons, in their own sardonic way...

Shaking off her dark introverted thoughts, Elvira forced herself to regain her composure and appearance she presented the world with every day. Head held high and back straigHt, she walked assertivly out the room - none of the usual shambling nonsense the rest insisted on doing...only when she was alone would she revert back to her quieter, more natural persona.

Grimacing as the whiff from the canteen assailed her senses, she blinked fast to stop her eyes watering, fists clenched slightly as she approached the nearest beast to give her a tray.
Ignoring the subtle growl, she returned it with a muted stare, whilst simultaneously handing the tray over to the next one and submitting herself to this afternoons pitiful attempt at 'nutrition.'

Spotting a vacant table near the quarantined kid...James....she headed slowly over. Not making eyecontact but instead staring resoloutly ahead, she sat at the seat furthest away form anyone and eyed her meal nonchalently, settling down to people watch....

[Corruzione]

::Nic::Maxwell.Dining.Hall::

Nic peeled back the hard, dry bread and regarded the sandwich's innards with a somewhat nauseated look, the bread tinged a light, fuzzy blue and the meat looking distinctly green - or maybe it was just the light in the hall... that would be the excuse at least, the blame always lay somewhere other than the home's staff.

He sent a glance across the other inmates, each having their own opinion on the night's offering: some grateful for the food they were afforded whilst others harbouring the same opinion as Nic was.

'It's probably made of old newspaper...' he sneered at the thing on the plate, jabbing at it with a finger - 'Did it just move?' He poked his tongue out wrinkling his nose as he continued his observations of the "meal", shoulder's hunched as he rested his chin on the table and attempted to will his food to morph into something edible.

A bang snapped him back to reality, a meaty hand having slammed into the table inches from his nose. Nic diverted his gaze upwards to find himself looking up at what was undoubtably the most stereotypical Russian woman he had ever set eyes upon: affectionately named Bulldog by the inhabitants.

She cast her black eyes down on him from under her heavy brow, a snarl on her lips revealed crooked yellowing teeth between cruel lips (partly hidden by a moustache and beard that grew in sparse tufts on her face). 'Are you goink to eat it or vould you rather be findink you'self vithout any for a veek, hmmmmm?' She rolled the final syllable around her mouth, Nic attempting to keep a straight face - there was a running joke about this that ran through the ranks of the adolescents.

Nic's reply was silence, his look waivering between a want to disobey and an acceptance of the terms she had offered. Of course, the chatter in the surrounding area had died down the moment Bulldog had stopped patrolling, all eyes around Nic planted squarely on him. He lifted a hand towards the sandwich, looking as if to take it, before pushing the plate away; the old crockery spinning across the table and teetering on the opposite edge for a split-second before falling to the floor.

The crash of chipped China was simultaneously accompanied by the sound of flesh on flesh, the back of the matron's hand thrown across Nic's face, whipping his head to the side and almost toppling him from his seat, but saved by the other hand of the heafty woman who planted him squarely on his feet. The pair glared at each other, Bulldog having an inch or so over Nic (however tall the inmates seemed to be she towered over them, not only in height but in presence). She lifted her arm again, as if to strike the now obviously red cheek of the teenager again, but simply pointed from the hall.

This was all the dismissal Nic needed, turning and marching from the hall, storming through the doors that led out to the corridor leading to the dormitories and the common room (which Nic headed for - it was, after all, to be the meeting place after dinner).

OoC: continue in the hall till you get bored/have no story then you can join him, I'll jump back in then.

[Insieme]

Elvira: Maxwell:Dining Hall

Giving up on the maggoty monstrosity, she swept it away in distaste, though not forcefully enough for it to clatter onto the floor, unlike some people....

Rolling her eyes, she turned slightly to allow for a better view of this latest spectacle, having already eyed the Russian hefer whilst it made its patrols of the tables, terrorising every third or fourth kid into ''eatink up zer meeet".

A low hiss escaped her as the force of the smack rebounded off the walls in the now silent hall.
She knew what that felt like, empathy rising in her previously cold breast.
Steeling herself for what was to be a non-existant second round, the bitterness rose in her throat as he was merely banished from the hall for that evening.
Albeit, she wished him no harm...nor any of the other kids in the place. Just that when ever she'd tried any hair-brained schemes or acts of defiance, the Russian cow had marched her out the hall itself and flogged her to within an inch of her life... the scars were still healing.

Perhaps it was because Nick was almost as tall as her, she was wary that one day he might top her immenseness, and hopefully (oh happy day! ) would fight back, and perhaps kill the bitch.
Until then, she lorded it over all the other migets and took especial delight in picking on the weaker ones, though ironically she equally loved tormenting and punishing Elvira for the most inane things...

"Maybe its because I'm good looking...." mused she, a stranger to modesty. "Christ, I don' know what would be worse...a flogging, or a feeling...eep"

Shuddering, she willed that thought away and resumed her seat in the spectacle arena, having known full well the extent to which their 'carers' took liberties, and the rampant rumours about 'Bulldog' were rife with tales of the extraordinary..
As Nick stormed out, she pondered wether or not to follow. Much as she'd like to, the immediate vacation of her person (or others) from the vicinity would only encourage suspicion, if not more chores for leaving before it was ''acceptable''.

Deciding for the moment to stay, she eventually drew her gaze away from the incident area and surveyed the other kids in the place. Everyone was there, everyone who could possibly participate in the break-out...save perhaps the wee kids. A dislike for little sprogs was inherent within her. How it got there, she wasn't sure...but she'd sure as hell rather leave them and save herself than drag their moaning, dribbling forms with her to freedom...

Counting up the definate participants in a hushed whisper: "James...Abbey...Katie...Rebecca...Tiff....myself and Nic obvy, then ....maybe, perhaps maybe...''
Unsure of how it would work, though counting on their loyalty, she stood up finally and headed slowly back 'to her room' - reality being she'd maybe crash there for an hour then head to the common room to see if Nick was ok. If any of the chosen few looked at her whilst she departed, she made a subtle sign with her hand, mouthed common room (though away from the carers lest they pick up on it) and gave them a pointed stare, more or less indicating if they valued their position, they'd troop along too...

[Sir Raphael]

Abbey: 'Dining' Hall

Abbey had been disconsolately poking at her meal and picking at some of the more 'edible' portions, before eventually giving it up as a bad job. She tossed it into the wastebin as she stalked off, running into Elvira by chance.

"Ooof!" she exclaimed. "Sorry, sorry!" Picking herself up, she offered a hand to Elvira, who was still on the ground.

"Wasn't looking, sorry..." she babbled, almost more to herself than to the other girl.

[Insieme]

(Ooc: just so you know, you cant really Auto play unless u get the other persons permission. I'll go with it this time, though think about it: a short 12 yr old knocking over a taller 18 yr old? )

Elvira: Corridor linking to Dining room

Having been in a dwam and not really paying attention to her immediate surroundings, Abbey's forceful appearance came as something of a surprise to Elvira.
Glaring at the shortish 12 year old, she dismissed the proffered hand and bumbling apologies with a " Fine - just watch where you're going next time yeah?"

Picking herself up rather more majestically than the insinuater and dusting herelf off, she looked sideways at the girl, pondering on wether she was just going back to her room ...or willing to join her later. Given their most recent aquaintance, the latter caused her eyes to narrow slightly, eyebrow raised skeptically.

Turning to walk off again, she called over her shoulder " So what's your deal Abbey? You gonna' be a sheep, or come ride with the wild cats hmmm? "
Smirking inwardly, she tried to maintain a straight face. Speaking in metaphors was another thing she liked to do - mainly to wind up Bulldog as half the time, she didn't realise she was getting insulted...

Stopping for the last time, just outside her cell door, she glanced back at the kid, concluding in a quieter tone - " If you're interested in an alternative, go the the Common room asap. Nick's there, alongside myself soon. Tell others if you wan', just don' let the carers know si? "

With that, she passed by her door (unwilling to go back and sink into a stupor) and instead, headed straight for the common room...

[Sierra]

James:Dining hall to holding cell

James had seen the words common room mouthed to him a few minutes ago by the disdainful, but pretty, Elvira. She obviously was planning something, but how would he get away from his beautiful little room with no view?

The room he was walking to was guarded by two burly females, Italians. They were tough women. Also, every hour those women took a break and Bulldog stood firmly outside. No one ever came in to waste their time threatening him, so that might work to his advantage.

"Evening ladies, you both are looking radiant tonight." James said grinning as he opened the large, wooden door. A loud click and thud followed the closing of the now locked door.

Sighing he looked over toward the violin sitting on his bed. Smiling at one of his only joys, he picked it up, resting the base under his soft chin.

Long notes eerily strained out, filling the room with their beautiful noises. The walls in the building were paper thin, so no doubt almost everyone could hear. That is why all the women slightly fought for the position of guarding him, to hear his music.

Picking up the tune of Violin Sonata No. 1 in G minor, James played his heart out, even standing up and walking about the room, blonde hair falling down over his creased, concentrated brow. After finishing that, James started his tabbed version of Moonlight Sonata.

While sliding the bow across the taut strings, he looked up and saw something that made his heart jump.

A vent. It was above the nightstand.

An air vent, hallelujah!

Climbing on his bed, he hopped over to the small nightstand. Reaching upward, his six foot three inch body easily reached the vent. James quietly removed the cover and grabbed a hold of the edges, pulling himself up.

[Corruzione]

::Nic::Common.Room::

No doubt I'll pay for that later... he thought to himself, arms folded behind his toussled head as he lounged along the tttered couch in the common room, head buzzing with conflicting emotion. He had made a point in the dining hall: things had been pushed too far by the staff and the anger at them that had been building up for so long was finally (yet so far subtely) beginning to be released, but at the same time he wondered if it had indeed been the right time to start the ball rolling on his part.

They'll be up in arms about this... first James and now Nic - it's shocking the impudence of youth nowadays... a crooked smile curled on his lips. The complete silence was broken however by a complaining stomach, Nic's hand reaching down and resting upon it - in hope of placating it before the appearance of anyone else, it would be a sign of weakness shown in what his actions had been earlier that evening.

He turned his head to look at the ancient television that sat on the grubby sideboard - it didn't work, nothing that was available to the inmates did, but his eyes flitted back and forth across it as if pictures danced across the blank screen. Thoughts turned to the others who had to share this place.

Although none of the captives were happy - this could be told in expressions and the mere fact that they always referred to themselves as having been caught and now stuck here - he wondered how many would support an escape attempt (well more he wondered how many would be able to keep up and make it out with himself, for he was determined). He hummed softly to himself as he thought over who he'd like to make it out, though his thoughts were purposely malicious - knowing that if anyone was to be left behind then there would be severe punishment inflicted upon them.

Nic began to hum a quiet tune to himself, a little out of tune in places but the jist of the minor song was portrayed.

[Insieme]

Elvira: Common Room

Entering the dimly lit, shabbily attired space, Elvira repressed her initial urge to curse. This place...disgustingly bare, poorly ventilated, with a subtle sprinkling of mould, was supposed to be their relaxing area..the place they could go to escape the bleakness of their reality and less-than-perfect housing arrangement..

Instead, it only worsened their situation, depressing the inmates to the extent that she, for one, had stopped coming in here during the fleeting hours they were allocated as "free time".

Sighing audibly, she strode purposefully toward one of the large, grimy windows that overlooked the bleak surroundings. Resting against the grubby radiator, she added in a monotone .. "Whatta dump..." before addressing the only other living thing in the room (the plants having died long ago from dehydration ), though as yet she did not turn round to face him:

"What's the plan then? Please say it's a good one.. don't think I could stomoch another failed attempt..."

Subconciously, she rubbed her left arm, where there rose, thin and pearly, a deep scar, representing what happened the last time they attempted a break-away...

[Corruzione]

::Nic::Common.Room::

Nic lifted his head, craning his neck to see over the back of the ancient sofa, looking to find out if futher punishment had come more swiftly than he would have liked. In the dimly lit recesses of the room he spied a form to shapely to belong to any of the matrons that patrolled the institute.

He lay down again in relief, not prepared - mentally or physically - to put up much of a fight against anyone; before hoisting his begrudging body to a sitting position. A sting shocked though his head from his cheek as his shoulder brushed against the rather blue-black bruise that was appearing there. Nic drew a sharp breath in through his teeth, closing one eye against the momentary pain.

He curled his legs under him and leant his chin upon folded arms which in turn rested upon the back of the battered couch - regarding the back of Elvira, still uncertain of the identity until she spoke.

'Ah that would be telling.' he stated simply, a cheeky glint in his eyes - Shit they want a plan already jeez, it's just a bunch of ideas at the moment... nothing substantial enough to even think about putting anything into action... But he maintained a confident air about him, focused on her silhouette.