Fox River playing thread

Theodore · The Company Joined: 04 May 2008 Posts: 29

T-Bag
Pipes
Michael

Theodore Bagwell was confident and assured he had muscle. Well, he supposed it depended on what kind of muscle was needed this situation. Bone-breaking muscle he had. Kid-killing muscle he had. Whether he had Spiderman muscle though, was yet to be seen. He looked down at Michael, half tempted to let all the saliva collected in his mouth drop down at hit his new friend square in the face. He grinned at the thought, though Scofield remained oblivious of what imagery had caused the smile.

Remembering there was a job in hand, T-Bag began to concentrate, looking at the flooring, the pipe that travelled up and along the wall, and to where he was positioned. When he was sure the coast was clear, he began to hammer at the flooring, which was technically their ceiling at that moment. It didn’t gave way, but he couldn’t tell Michael that – he had to prove he had muscle. Teddy’s need to prove he could do this was nothing short of rhino’s fighting each other to see who had the bigger, stronger horn on their faces. With more force, he began to pummel at it again – imagining it as if it were a victim. Didn’t matter what age, didn’t matter what size. All he knew was that he had to hone in and release the ‘beast within’.

With one final punch, the floor began to tremble and come apart from the rest of the flooring. Shifting it aside, he grabbed the pipe, looked for a place his foot could go, and tore one leg away from Michael. “Don’t let go” he said, in case his masculinity was compromised and he fell to the floor. He took away his other leg, now fully attached to the pipe. Climbing up it was easy work; he had begun to access muscles that had been forgotten for the past few years, and admittedly he was getting a kick out of the adrenaline pumping through his body.

Now on the next floor, he admired his handiwork, took a minute to get his breath, then peered down at Michael, now enshrouded in shadows. “Alright then, Pretty, if you want, you can hold my hand.” he bent forward, and grabbed Scofield with both hands, doing his best to support all the weight forcing his body down. With a grunt, he pulled Michael toward him, and helped him clamber up.

A moment passed in which both men regained composure, and then T-Bag grinned at Michael again.
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Michael · The Company Joined: 05 May 2008 Posts: 19

Michael
Tunnels
T-Bag

He was impressed in a sort of subdued way when Theodore combated the metal grate floor and won, enabling them access to the floor above. Wincing slightly, he felt the shift of weight as T-Bag conquered space and tried to assemble himself on the next level. Various clanging sounds ricocheted throughout their territory, but it turned out to be nothing loud enough to cause attention.

With a tight mouth, he tried not to sneer as T-Bag offered his hand. He just had to grin and bear this for the greater good, only without the grin. He clutched tightly to his hand and felt himself being hoisted, and eventually he found a footing that was suitable enough to support his weight. Success! They were on the floor they needed to be on. But that was the easiest part of this difficult thinking process. Michael replaced the grate, but only loosely, so they could remove it again with ease. He glanced up and down the walkway and tried to evaluate where they were, ignoring all signs of T-Bag’s triumph.

“Down there,” he directed with his head. “There should be an office or guard’s room outside Linc’s cell. We need to get inside.” His intent was to tamper with some papers and hope that that would be enough to keep Linc where he was. Otherwise all his planning would be in ruins and his brother would soon be electrocuted. Michael swallowed and started down the path, feeling every bit of the pressure he tried so hard to conceal from the others.

They were half way to where they needed to be when Michael saw the biggest hurdle of the night thus far. There was the room they needed to be in, and outside was the CO they needed gone. He pressed himself against the wall in a vain attempt to hide, hung his head, and briefly closed his eyes.
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Theodore · The Company Joined: 04 May 2008 Posts: 29

T-Bag
Um, the hallway!
Michael

He couldn’t have missed the obstacle a mile away; mainly because of the CO’s broad structure. He stood next to Michael, pressing his body as far into the wall as it would go. T-Bag expected the guard to spot them and destroy them there and then, or if not, at least meander through the hallway. But he did neither of those things. Trying to be brave, but reckless, he came out of hiding to look at the officer again. He wasn’t moving, in fact, he was sitting in the office.

This would have been a good time to tell Michael that he had a brain too, one that worked exceedingly well in fact, but he saw no cause to speak to the boy, so he instead plotted what he would do. Theodore expected Scofield to be talking already, to be plundering on with his next plan, but the man was silent. His head was hung, but he was not ready for either of them to give up just yet. He stood next to Michael, slapping his arm to get his attention. “Hey, we can still do this, Pretty. We’re not done yet.”

He pointed to Michael’s shirt. “Come on, lets see your pipe work.” when he received a scowl, he dipped his head to show he meant business, “I’m serious – we need to see if there’s a way around. If we went the other way for instance, would that take us to the office, and if so, is there a route we could escape through if they wanted to play cat and mouse?”

Bagwell took another look at the officer – sitting there with his coffee. But he wasn’t drinking the caffeine, he was sitting down on a comfortable chair. Which meant he wasn’t percolated. It also meant he was relaxed, at ease, out of shape. All of this would play to their advantage, as the cogs in T-Bag’s head began churning faster than the apprehension in his gut.
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Michael · The Company Joined: 05 May 2008 Posts: 19

Michael
Hallway thing
Theodore

His head wasn’t hung from resignation; he’d never give up so easily, not on his plan, and most assuredly not on his brother. Instead he was thinking of what to do next. The guard presented an obstacle he hadn’t foreseen; a big, lazy-looking obstacle. With a little team effort the threat could be eradicated.

When T-Bag insisted that Michael lift his shirt, he was adamantly against it, and enforced this with a shift of his features. He listened to what Bagwell had to say, but that still didn’t convince him to show his tattoos. He knew where the problem lay, and lifting his shirt wasn’t going to help anything. “I know where we are,” he said, partly lying. Lifting his hands, he gave T-Bag a half-rough shove in the shoulder. “Distract him. Knock him out if you have to, but don’t kill him. I’m going through the office. There’s a door on the other side.”

Michael didn’t leave T-Bag any room for argument. He was already sneaking along the wall. He wished he had a better plan of attack, but at this late stage, desperation was what inspired all of his decisions. There seemed to be a moment of doubt on T-Bag’s face, and Michael sent an encouraging scowl at him, vainly thinking it might help. It had to help.
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Theodore · The Company Joined: 04 May 2008 Posts: 29

T-Bag
Office
Michael//CO

Oh it was perfect, for Scofield at least. Use T-Bag as a distraction; get him thrown into solitary for a month while he and the others escaped. He shook his head, but only when Michael had begun to slink away into the shadows, moving in the opposite direction to Bagwell now. How the hell was he going to make this work.

He could try walking down the good route – pretending he had been beaten up and wandered up here. Looking innocent enough, perhaps maybe a cut or two to his face. Or there was the other option. The option he felt more at ease with – he could be Theodore Bagwell; Demon Inmate of Fox River.
He licked his lips, and rubbed his hand over his facial hair, his palm tingling from the rough sensation. Alright, Teddy, its now or never.

He began to skulk along the corridor, keeping low, almost at the door. When he was just a foot or so away from the door, he stood up, his full height taking up as much space as possible, and opened the door slowly and calmly. He puffed his chest out as he was walked into the hallway. The CO didn’t notice him until T-Bag knocked on the glass window that portioned the two from each other.

“Jesus, Bagwell. What the hell are you doing out here?!” he exploded, rushing out of the office, baton at the ready.

“Oh you know, just sight seeing.” he replied, his voice barely audible. The CO raised the baton and gestured for him to stand against the wall – routine procedure any time a convict was out of his cell against hours. Already he could sense Scofield was close, and just as the cop thought he was complying, Bagwell in one swift, foul movement, grabbed the baton from the CO and smashed it against his bald head.

Not knocking him out however, he had applied just enough force to stun him. Standing over the back of him, he grabbed the man’s collar and began dragging him across the floor. His crimes, renound in the prison, obviously echoed around the officer’s head, as he began to whimper, unable to fight back.

“Shh, shh, now don’t fret” Theodore cooed at the man, before propping him against the wall. The man tried to struggle against Teddy’s grip, in one last swoop at freedom. Teddy became more forceful. “I said don’t fret now, it’s going to be alright” were the last words the cop heard, before he was knocked out cold.
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Michael · The Company Joined: 05 May 2008 Posts: 19

Michael
Hallway thing
T-Bag, Knocked Out CO, Other CO, Linc

Inside he was hyperventilating. He couldn’t believe what they were doing. On T-Bag’s word they’d come through the tunnels and were now attacking a guard, who would undoubtedly talk once he was awake again. They’d work out how they got through to the back of the cells, and everything would be over. Everything, including Linc’s life.

Michael felt the muscles in his neck tense and gather like the strings of a purse, making it hard for him to breath. This was going too far. There had to be some other way to do this. But now that they were in the thick of it there was no going back. T-Bag had, surprisingly, done exactly what he’d asked, and now it was his turn to follow things through.

He scampered along the hallway and entered the room in which the guard had been lazing, and in which he was still lazing, but in another form. Michael scrutinized the damage done to his head and gave T-Bag a nod. “Watch him.” He didn’t want to say any more because time was of great value. Already he felt as if their ten minute window of safe vacated cell time was coming to a severe close. Somehow he had to make time stretch and miracles happen. It was a lot to ask.

He tucked his way through the door on the inside of the prison, which led to the more organised part of the facility. Turning a swift corner he encountered yet another CO keeping watch over Linc’s cell. Michael swallowed and approached the already-alert man in uniform. “What’re you doing here, Scofield?” asked the guard. “The Pope told me I can talk to my brother,” he lied, convincingly. The CO looked a little sceptical, but the mention of the warden was what won him over. “Two minutes.” He put down his baton and allowed Michael through.

Breathing out a strained sigh, he was shoved into the room with Lincoln, the door buckled tightly behind him. “Linc,” he gave his brother a gruff hug and fell back, straining to see in the impossible light. It was great to see him, no matter what the circumstances. Even moments as chaotic as these had to be savoured. He never knew when he’d see him again. Greetings over, he got straight to the point. “I heard they’re moving you,” he said through a whisper. “Linc, if they move you…” he paused, feeling a gathering of emotion which he tried to force back down, “if they change your cell, it can’t be done. All of it…for nothing.”
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Theodore · The Company Joined: 04 May 2008 Posts: 29

Linc the Sink
His cell
Michael

Four walls and corners alike. In one corner his bunk, in another a basin. Instead of occupying either of these, Lincoln was sitting on the floor opposite his bed. He ran his hand over his shaven head, his hand tingling from the blunt strands of what used to be hair. The only sound he could hear was the dripping of the pipes beneath him, and his controlled breathing. He was used to time now – whether it passed slowly or quickly – he had grown used to the want of time simultaneously moving fast and slow. Fast so he could end the boredom, and slow so he could delay what was to come.

He had heard a stirring in the pipe system underneath him, but thought nothing of it. Michael would not be stupid enough to come and see him before they were meant to break out. However, he evidently would, as the door to his cell opened – meeting brother with brother. “What are you doing here Michael?” was the first thing he said, then after he discovered news which was unknown to him, he continued, “What do you mean they’re moving my cell? To where?”

He rubbed his stubble, thick and dark around his jaw line. “So what do we do?”
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Michael · The Company Joined: 05 May 2008 Posts: 19

Michael
Linc’s cell / Hallway thing
Linc, T-Bag, Guard(s)

For all the confined space in his cell, it was nothing compared to here. The walls were built more to trap sanity than a prisoner. Thoughts were cramped into this small space, abolishing any ideas of freedom. In simple terms, these isolated cells were designed to break spirits.

Linc seemed to still have his though, even if they were hidden. Michael hated that his head was clean-shaven in preparation for the execution. He’d always had shorter hair than most, but never that short, cropped close against the skull. It was out of the ordinary and put Michael deep into the realisation that time was more crucial now than what it had ever been. “I don’t know,” he answered. He was letting his brother down by not having any answers. “I can talk to the Pope but I don’t know any good it will do.”

Two short bangs landed against the door and the inevitable “Time’s up!” got shouted through. “Stay down the back,” the guard ordered Linc, as Michael reluctantly went toward the door. As he looked at Linc he felt an immense amount of disappointment in himself; he was crushing his brother’s hope.

Michael, upon exiting the cell, appeared stoic and indifferent as the guard ushered him down the hall, hands in his pockets. However, after turning the corner, he jogged to the office T-Bag occupied and found that the knocked-out guard was still out of it. “I don’t suppose you gave him amnesia,” he said to Theodore. The CO would undoubtedly give explicit details about how T-Bag delivered two rough blows to his head, but that wasn’t Michael’s problem.

He studied his watch. “Leave him. They’ll be checking my cell. We have to get back.”
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Theodore · The Company Joined: 04 May 2008 Posts: 29

T-Bag
Hallway
Michael

The cop fascinated Theodore, in particular, his belt. He looked down at his own waist, held together only with strands of elastic. He could do with a belt - something fancy and lethal-like. He heard the footsteps of Michael approach, and quickly acted. He unbuckled the CO’s leather strap holding his XL pants up, and wrapped it around his own, considerably smaller, waist. He acknowledged Michael with a smile as he approached T-Bag, and shook his head. “No, I didn’t hit his noggin too hard. But let’s see…”

He slapped the officer’s face, simultaneously reaching into the man’s inner pocket, retrieving his wallet. Opening it, he took a picture of a young girl and laid it on the man’s chest. Leaning forward into his ear, he whispered, “You tell on us, and I’ll find her. You hear me? I’ll find her.”

He stood up, adjusting his new belt, and looked up and down the corridor. “So we’re going back to our cell? What about your brother, you sort something out – or are we still in a whole mess of trouble?” More footsteps. A jolt shot through their bodies, passed from one to the other, making them move back to the pipes.
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Michael · The Company Joined: 05 May 2008 Posts: 19

Michael
Guard’s room / Pipes
T-Bag

Michael watched as T-Bag proposed a threat to the guard’s daughter. It was clever, despite the guard being unconscious, but it was hardly something Michael’s conscience needed to hear.

He had a headache.

There was no desire in him to tell T-Bag this, and so he kept it to himself. And although the other man’s help had begrudgingly been invaluable, he also didn’t want to share with him the details of the plan he was forming. This was mostly because there was no superbly thought-through plan to stop his brother from being moved. The whole adventure of mazing through the pipes had resulted in little more than some extra trouble for them if the guard decided to open his mouth and risk his daughter’s life.

“I need to sleep on it,” Michael said soberly, following after T-Bag into the piped terrain. He thought he heard the same footsteps that T-Bag obviously heard, and for a moment he didn’t care if they got caught. The simplicity of it seemed a better alternative than managing the breakout. But in no way was it a better alternative than not rescuing his brother from almost-certain death.

And so he froze, trying not to press himself against the pipes and cause another singed-flesh disaster. He looked steadily to T-Bag, giving him a small nod to indicate that the coast was clear. Then they manoeuvred themselves down through the grate and eventually crawled back through the brick wall into Michael’s cell.

Something seized his chest when he saw feet and a pair of legs to match looming up before his viewpoint. Was this the end of everything? He cursed himself for taking such a risk. Then he slowly raised his eyes, seeing Sucre’s panicked expression looking down at him. “Where the hell you been, Michael? Bellick came here looking for you.”

He crawled through past the cistern, saw the sheet was half torn, and turned to Sucre. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him you were off visiting. God, Michael, is that T-Bag? What do you think you’re doing, frolicking around back there?”

Michael’s expression changed only a little. “I was visiting. I had to see Linc.” He pulled down the sheet and threw it on the bed. “They’re moving his cell.”

“What?! Did I just hear you right?”
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