YURI PETROV 🔥 LUNATIC (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
insinerate) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2016-07-01 03:10 pm
insinerate) wrote in maskormenacelogs2016-07-01 03:10 pm
[OPEN] you force your fire and then you falsify your deeds
WHO: Yuri Petrov & Visitors
WHERE: Prison
WHEN: All throughout July
WHAT: Yuri's sentence for attempted murder has finally been doled out, and this time he's not getting an accidental early release when the place collapses on his head.
WARNINGS: Allusions to murder and possible language. Should that change, I'll edit this.
NOTES: I'll match brackets or prose. Feel free to throw in your own starters or, if you'd like me to set something up for our characters, hit me up via PM or at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
quietlikeafire so we can work something out!
"You have a visitor."
The corrections officer who comes to collect Yuri is seldom the same two days in a row. A stocky man one morning with crooked teeth, a mountainous woman the following day who looks more like a professional wrestler, and sometimes whoever comes to retrieve him has a shadow, a newer recruit who's being shown the ropes of the facility and being familiarized with its inmates. Jittery thing, usually young, with a habit of wringing their hands or smacking their lips nervously, often as they try to avoid staring at his face—the palm print scar marring more than half, specifically.
Sometimes they talk among themselves, and sometimes Yuri listens. Doesn't give a lick about the weather banter. He gets his recreational time outdoors same as everyone else. Can't be bothered with the gossip surrounding a new television show about a badass southern evangelist. He's more interested in the news and the aftermath of the imPort elections. But the trip from cell to visitation room is short, and regardless of the topic, the conversations Yuri overhears are often cut off abruptly. He doesn't know if the warden's grandmother will get her new dentures before her 30th wedding anniversary. Won't find out if they're serving anything special on July 4th in the cafeteria. Doesn't get to hear the buzz about new imPort arrivals and who may or may not have made a stir...
"No contact," he's reminded as he's left to make himself comfortable at one of the many small tables set up in a stark white room with barred windows. The chairs are cheap but nevertheless provide a place to sit. So he sits, folds his hands upon the tabletop before him and, in his fashionable prison blues, he waits patiently to see who has come today to disturb his peace. Someone come to get their scoop, perhaps? A doctor itching to dole out a diagnosis? Or maybe even a friend who does what he's told only when it's convenient for him.
Whoever it is, Yuri will smile as they walk through that door and sit opposite him. He'll smile like not a thing in the world is wrong.
WHERE: Prison
WHEN: All throughout July
WHAT: Yuri's sentence for attempted murder has finally been doled out, and this time he's not getting an accidental early release when the place collapses on his head.
WARNINGS: Allusions to murder and possible language. Should that change, I'll edit this.
NOTES: I'll match brackets or prose. Feel free to throw in your own starters or, if you'd like me to set something up for our characters, hit me up via PM or at
"You have a visitor."
The corrections officer who comes to collect Yuri is seldom the same two days in a row. A stocky man one morning with crooked teeth, a mountainous woman the following day who looks more like a professional wrestler, and sometimes whoever comes to retrieve him has a shadow, a newer recruit who's being shown the ropes of the facility and being familiarized with its inmates. Jittery thing, usually young, with a habit of wringing their hands or smacking their lips nervously, often as they try to avoid staring at his face—the palm print scar marring more than half, specifically.
Sometimes they talk among themselves, and sometimes Yuri listens. Doesn't give a lick about the weather banter. He gets his recreational time outdoors same as everyone else. Can't be bothered with the gossip surrounding a new television show about a badass southern evangelist. He's more interested in the news and the aftermath of the imPort elections. But the trip from cell to visitation room is short, and regardless of the topic, the conversations Yuri overhears are often cut off abruptly. He doesn't know if the warden's grandmother will get her new dentures before her 30th wedding anniversary. Won't find out if they're serving anything special on July 4th in the cafeteria. Doesn't get to hear the buzz about new imPort arrivals and who may or may not have made a stir...
"No contact," he's reminded as he's left to make himself comfortable at one of the many small tables set up in a stark white room with barred windows. The chairs are cheap but nevertheless provide a place to sit. So he sits, folds his hands upon the tabletop before him and, in his fashionable prison blues, he waits patiently to see who has come today to disturb his peace. Someone come to get their scoop, perhaps? A doctor itching to dole out a diagnosis? Or maybe even a friend who does what he's told only when it's convenient for him.
Whoever it is, Yuri will smile as they walk through that door and sit opposite him. He'll smile like not a thing in the world is wrong.