"Mack and Charlie": A chapter from "Behind Bars"

[CutiePie1997]

"Mack and Charlie"

This is a "chapter" from the parent role play,
"Behind Bars"

It is being composed here for the ease
of 1x1 writing and reading within a Group Role Play.
When we are done with this interaction,
we will return to the parent thread.​

OOC: This thread began here in the parent thread, "Behind Bars". If you are reading "Mack and Charlie" without reading the parent thread first, you will want to also read Powell “Mack” Mackenzie's introduction, found here.

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Character profiles page


After she'd given her threat over the intercom about sending Hairy Harvey Lewis out into the blocks to kill anyone who hadn't returned to their cells as ordered, Charlie took a walk out into the again secured prison all by her lonesome. She had some inmates she wished to talk to on a 1x1 basis.

Her first stop was outside the cell of Powell Mackenzie. His nickname was “Mack”, but Harvey had expanded on the name: Mack the Mouth, not that Charlie herself would repeat that to the man out of a wish to show respect to one and all, whether they deserved it or not.

Of course, for all she knew, Mack was already well aware of the longer nickname. Charlie couldn't know, because although she'd heard about him from Maria during her years of incarceration at Clark County, she'd never met the man. Still, she had a reason for stopping outside his A-Wing, maximum security cell this night.

She inserted and turn the key, then operated the remote control she carried with her at almost all times. His cell's door -- which was a solid sheet of steel except for a small viewing window and a food slot -- slid open. Charlie studied the man a moment, leaning against the door frame with her right hand on the butt of her weapon.

"They tell me you can be quite entertaining when you want," she said with a knowing smirk. "They also tell me that you're a pretty sharp cookie and know how to get things done ... when there's something to be gained from it for yourself."

She gave him a moment to respond if he wished. Harvey had told Charlie that the man was black and white when it came to conversation: he either couldn't stop talking or was silent and contemplating, the latter of which worried Harvey the most.

"We had a bit of a scuffle tonight, despite my warnings about violence," Charlie continued. "I know I can't stop this kind of shit. It's first nature for some of these fucking animals. Changing them into fluffy bunnies would be like holding back the tide. So, I have a thought: cage fights. If they want to fight, if they want to work off some of their energy and frustration and inherent violence, I'll let them, but in an organized manner."

Charlie gave Mack a moment to contemplate what she was saying, then finished, "I'm gonna need someone to run them, the fights, I mean. I can't do it. It wouldn't look right. Know anyone who might be interested?"

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

Even Mack had to admit, it was impressive. Watching this hot, redheaded piece of prison ass “Open Sesame” on the loathsome, rolling door that had made him a hostage for a little over six years. She was leaning against the doorframe like a Maxim Magazine shoot, hip cocked to the side, accentuating her already impressive curves—her hand resting on the Chekovian firearm that she carried with her before he could even imagine rushing her, not that he was in any hurry to depart her company.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the whore-don—” Mack cleared his throat, before fully answering her greeting, “excuse me, Warden. It’s a little tough to get accustomed to the honorifics—given that your only qualification is getting to the gun and control room before me or my crew. I blame the head start you got over in C wing. I’m not salty though, I’m eager to follow you for the view alone… but I have concerns.”

Mack sat up in his bunk as she pitched him on the idea of running her little Fight Club rip-off. Truthfully, he loved the idea—but didn’t let it show. Instead, Mack made himself stonefaced and opened the collar of his khaki jumpsuit. He shrugged out of the sleeves and tied them around his waist, keeping the pants up while leaving him naked from the waist up.

Now shirtless, Mack climbed out of his bunk, occupying the center of his cell, standing closer to Charlie than he ever had before. She smelled like name-brand shampoo. Probably had a private shower now that she’d promoted herself.

“May I speak frankly… Warden?” Mack leaned against the unoccupied top bunk, left vacant because of reliable bribes paid to the guards—that was all wasted money now, “I don’t hate your Fight Club idea—but at this point, you’re just organizing the deck furniture on the Titanic. If you’re going to be any kind of leader around here you need to pick a lane. You can’t be Good Cop and Bad Cop at once—it makes you sound loopy. You need to restyle yourself—the mother Madonna—the Death Row Mother Theresa! But you can’t make people trust you and fear you at the same time. No cap, but better than you have tried and failed. You don’t want to be Caesar. Trust.

“The way you’re going now, you’re headed for a fall—and I don’t mean that as a threat whatsoever. Now, ordinarily I wouldn’t spare two cunt-hairs worth of a fuck what happens to you—but the fact that your untimely demise would doom me to a slow and agonizing death vexes me greatly! I ought to be just telling you what you want to hear while conspiring against you—but I’m showing you my whole hand here because like I said, I like the view. But you gotta go along to get along—ya feel me? Now, I get why you want the only gun—but the doors… Ma, if you’re going to claim to be offering us freedom, you can’t be the only one in charge of the doors.

“Maybe five, six—hell, the more the merrier. You’re trying to form a completely new nation here. You can be in charge or you can be in complete control—you can’t be both. And this whole building was built because of the lengths people will go to if it means escaping complete control.

“But where are my manners? Could I offer you a smoke? Some Pruno maybe?” Seeming to interrupt himself, Mack offered her the plush looking desk chair from his study area.

Not waiting to see if she sat, Mack laid his elbow into the side of the toilet, popping the stainless-steel cover from the top of the tank. From the toilet tank he retrieved a turkey bag filled with what looked like orange peels, crusts of bread and some oddly brown looking orange juice.

Mack brought the dripping bag over to his desk and used a pencil to poke a hole where the bag was sinched closed. The air that escaped smelled like stale bread. He set up two Styrofoam cups and filled each half-way before spinning the bag closed and setting it in the sink.

“Cheers,” Mack smiled, using the toilet as a second seat to sit facing the desk and Charlotte, raising his Styrofoam cup and tapping a cigarette onto the desk, “to a more perfect union.”

 

[CutiePie1997]

"May I speak frankly… Warden?"

Charlie had always hated that phrase, just as she'd always hated With all due respect: either one of them meant that the speaker was about to offend you and felt that prefacing their words with either phrase should somehow forgive them of their trespass.

"Sure, why not," Charlie said as she conspicuously looked over his body's tattoos, many of which were fine work.

He admitted to liking the Fight Club concept, but criticized her form of governing thus far, equating it to commanding the Titanic. "If you’re going to be any kind of leader around here you need to pick a lane. You can’t be Good Cop and Bad Cop at once—it makes you sound loopy.:

He admitted that his motivations behind helping Charlie were that he was better off with her than without her. With a knowing smirk, she responded, "I get that."

When he offered her some prison wine, Charlie lifted the cup to her nose and sniffed, grimacing, then chuckling. She set the cup down again, using his own words, "May I speak frankly...? You need some better facilities and ingredients if you're gonna be offering that to me."

Charlie's lips spread in a smile, though, and she offered, "Would you like that? Facilities for brewing? An actual Still?"

She hesitated for Mack to contemplate the offer, then clarified, "I'll make the space, equipment, and ingredients available to you for making your swill. In return, you continue to ... speak frankly with me about how I'm screwing up governing Clark County."

Again she hesitated to see if Mack had questions or comments or simply wanted to hear more. Specifically, she wanted to hear him give her advice on how to keep the inmates in line. Oh, she might not like his ideas, and she might entirely ignore them. But Charlie wasn't ignorant about the fact that she didn't know everything about prison life: she wasn't a career criminal, and she'd spent her entire incarceration in solitary, so there was a lot left for her to learn.

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

Mack smirked as Charlie turned her nose up at his toilet wine.

“More for me,” he smirked, pouring the contents of her cup into his and taking another long sip, “that all sounds great and everything, but I think you’re still getting ahead of yourself. You got motherfuckin’… foundations for a civilization to lay down. Keeping the doors open, we talked about that—but what about currency? Property? Will there be a bank? Enough water for drinking and showers. Besides all that—crime and punishment is a hot button issue around here. I dunno if you noticed.”

Mack finished his drink and stood up from the toilet. He extended a hand to Charlie, seemingly pledging his alliance.

“I like what you’re sellin’ here boss. I like that you came to me. I’ll see what tomorrow brings. In the meantime, Blue nation is backing you, Red. But please feel free to leave the door open after you go.”

Mack tucked himself back into his bunk and lit a smoke, staring at the bottom of the empty bed above him until Charlie left. Once she was gone, Mack signaled the others.

C-A-E-S-A-R

E-T-T-U-B-R-U-T-U-S came the reply.

It was decided. In the morning they would make a run at taking over the prison.

 

[CutiePie1997]

"...what about currency? Property? Will there be a bank? Enough water for drinking and showers. Besides all that—crime and punishment is a hot button issue around here. I dunno if you noticed.”

Charlie listened closely to all Mack had to say. She was impressed by him. "There will be, currency, I mean. I have some ideas on that. Property? People gotta have their stuff."

She spoke about how the inmates could spread out, maybe take two cells if they wished.

“I like what you’re sellin’ here boss. I like that you came to me."

Charlie left Mack's cell feeling good about her recruitment of him to her team.

She had no idea just how dangerous her assumption would turn out.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

OOC: Taking this back to the main thread. You can go to the first post in this thread to see how you got here.