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by: Liam O'Donnell
Wednesday, Feb 1st 2012 – 11:45 a.m.

The afternoon buzzer alarmed through the entire prison, even Cell Block D. Every day at the same time, the bell would ring to let the prisoners know it would be time to line up for lunch. Most of the time he had spent here, Liam wouldn’t get up to go anywhere, and settled for a solo dinner served in his cell, but since he had made an acquaintance across the way, he figured he would show his face at least once.

He rose from his bed, put on the shirt that they required them to wear outside and fastened the buttons. He wasn’t here to impress anyone, but Liam poured some of his leftover drinking water into his hand and slicked his hair back, before wiping his face with the dirty towel he had kept under his bed. He held his arms out the door to have them fasten the shackles on him before he exited the cell. The chains were a formality, but also a pain in the ass. He also knew they were required, so Liam succumbed to this bit of torture to make it to the cafeteria.

”You’re actually going to be social today, O’Donnell?” The guard came to snap the cuffs and chains on his wrists, and connected them to cuffs attached to his ankles as well. "To be honest I'm surprised you've decided to show your face, killer. First time you've been out of solitary since you were locked up in the first place."

Liam didn’t acknowledge the guard, just stood there and allowed him to be chained up like an animal. He stared straight ahead into the open door of the cell across the way. He wondered if Eric would be coming along.
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by: Ezra Whyatt
Chains... Always with the chains. The buzzer sounded, marking the time for Ezra to make make his decision. The same decision that he made every day at this time. Either stay in the solitude of his cell (cuff free) or venture out to the lunch area with the other prisoners but allow himself to be chained like the rest of the inmates.
Since the shackles came as part and parcel of leaving the cell Ezra more often than not refused. There was something about being voluntarily hand cuffed which sat uncomfortably in the ex-auror's stomach
Today though, and Ezra wasn't overly sure why, once the buzzer sounded he offered his hands through to be shackled. The guard raised an eyebrow but said said nothing as he chained the man's hands together and opened the cell.

Perhaps it as lucky for Ezra, but as a low level prisoner with generic conviction of "crimes against the ministry" he received relatively little negative attention from the guards. Mostly they had prisoners they'd prefer to make life difficult for so for the most part he was just "nothinged". It suited the man just fine.

Ezra just stood, eyes fixed forward, as the guard connected all the chains together. Once the guard was satisfied he gave the older man a shove, signalling that it was time to move.

It was a short walk, and the scruffy, dark haired man kept his eyes on their ground as they made their way the communal cafeteria area. Once they entered the guard took up his position along the edge of the room, hand on wand, as Ezra moved into the line with the other inmates.
He raised his chained hands, in the hopes of running a hand through his long hair, but was haulted by the chain length only 2 thirds of the way there.
"Stupid bloody things..." Ezra cursed quietly to himself, his voice feeling all gratey as if scarcely used.
Well, really it was...
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by: Eric Pangbourn
Lunch. The time they were all supposed to go sit together in one big hall and eat together. Sounded like a wonderful recipe for disaster, yet much to Eric's dismay, he had seen little worth mention in the past two weeks he had spent here. It was as though the very souls of these men were already stolen away from them, and they dared not try anything.

Honestly, it was a pity. Eric realized there were risks involved. Magic could kill, injure, or freeze any of them in an instant to try to take down the threat of a mutinous escape. However, there were more of them than there were guards. Struggle to get wands, and they could fend off the swarm of dementors, who would surely come as soon as the guards were dead, long enough to find a way off the bloody rock.

As usual, Eric took his time to stand and walk to the bars of his cell once the bell rang. It was just another wasted set o moments of the day necessary to survive. That was what was killing him most: wasting his day. Outside, he could be doing important work as an Unspeakable. Outside, he could work out as he liked, have food that actually tasted good, then peruse a club since his "wife" clearly had no interest in him and had made it public knowledge. "Wife" would surely not be her title for long.

Once the guard had finished with Liam across the way and sent him along with the rest toward the guard who waited at the end of the block, Eric held out his hands through the bars of his cell door, submitting once again to the humiliating nature of everyday. Chains were for animals, and he was not one, but he had no choice if he wanted to push forward.

Once chained, the quiet trek to the lunch hall was made. He kept his head down, not wanting to deal with the guards, as he walked until finally he made it to the cafeteria where he was handed a tray containing a plastic sectioned plate for food. Habitually, he followed the person ahead of him to the line.
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by: Liam O'Donnell

That’s what was for lunch today. Liam looked, unimpressed at the tray of disgusting slop that should have been dumped into a trough for the pigs, not slapped onto a tray for human beings. Yes, yes, justice and all that but for someone who was clearly innocent, Liam was furious he would have to dine on this filth today. Why did he pick today of all days to become a social butterfly? Because it would give him a chance to meet up with the man from across the way. Eric, was his name, and his story was kind of interesting, sure. But there had to be more to the story, more that he couldn’t say out too loud with the guards listening. Perhaps there wasn’t much else to Eric’s story and Liam was just hoping that he would make things a bit more interesting around here, but he was going to take a gamble today, as he didn’t have much to lose anyway.

Liam fell in line with the person that was walking ahead of him the entire time, until they broke away from the line to take a seat at the tables. He found the nearest table that wasn’t inhabited and took a seat. He stared down at the porridge that was served to him and all he could think of was that he was glad he had grabbed a large glass of water, because he was sure he wasn’t going to eat much of this shit. He took a sip of his water and simply waited.
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by: Ezra Whyatt
Well the food looked... Absolutely disgusting and the same as normal. After all, the powers at Be didn't want them contented, only alive. The slop on his tray was proof enough of that.
Ezra sighed, gripping his tray in both both hands as he turned face the room. No free tables, damn. Apparently some companionships had been formed between some inmates, who sat about in clusters. Ezra didn't to force himself into those tighter groups, so in the end headed towards a table with just one inmate sat at it.

Every time Ezra moved he heard the clinks. Those ghastly, intolerable, chains. Ezra loathed them. If he sat still it was possible to block them out of his mind but when he moved? There was no missing the familiar clanks.
Ezra had to suppress a shudder every time those familiar sounds reached him. It was just another reminder he wasn't free. Might never be free again...

"Mind if I join you?" Ezra didn't really take in the man in front of him, after all he wasn't looking at him. He was a white guy, dark hair. Nothing special within the prison.
Hell neither was he.
Maybe they'd just be able to sit in silence and eat, hopefully anyway. Ezra wasn't sure what stories the other inmates had; who were like in and who were completely justified in being there.
Ezra wasn't nearly as confident at reading people as he once had been as an Auror, not after his brother's betrayal. Now his judgement was clouded with doubt.
He couldn't let anything like that happen again.
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by: Eric Pangbourn
Yum, Eric thought when he saw the slop piled onto his plate. It had to be the fourth time he'd seen it in the two or so weeks since he'd arrived here. Felt like they were being felt scraps like pigs--only worse. The pigs actually enjoyed scraps and slop. Eric sighed but took his plate and his water with him away from the line. His eyes searched for a place to sit. Who looked particularly interesting today? Not those ones. Not those ones. And certainly not those ones over there.

Finally, Eric's eyes settled on the table where Liam was. Well, it was better than nothing, he supposed. Second best to sitting alone in his opinion, but beggars couldn't be choosers--especially not in this prison. Accompanied by the rhythmic sound of his fetters, Eric headed toward the table and set his tray down at the same time as another person--one he didn't recognize--did the same. Unlike this one, however, Eric didn't ask. He just sat and took a bite of his oh-so-"scrumptious" lunch, leaving the answering of the question for Liam. The loner murderer needed and wanted the interaction more than he did, Eric imagined, especially since he'd ventured out of his cell for once.
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by: Liam O'Donnell
The unfamiliar voice cut through the sound of clanging chains and forks hitting the trays, as well as prisoners loudly eating the disgusting slop and smacking their lips. Merlin, just because you’re behind bars doesn’t mean you have no shame. Animals they were, chained up, chained together at times, beaten, tortured, spat upon, kicked, punched, flung, zapped, you name it. Animals. Liam stared up at the younger prisoner that had approached the table he had just taken over and sat in silence for a second. He didn’t want to answer right away. It may show that he was weak or desperate for some company. For months he wanted company, but he was going to be wary about the company that the other inmates would provide.

Liam didn’t say much to the boy, he just nodded. Not that he minded the company, no, he nodded to allow him to sit down at his table without much objection. Liam wasn’t really going to eat anyway, he just wanted to see what it would be like to be around people again. So far, it was awful, but there was no turning back now. Forcing a spoonful of that filth into his mouth, Liam reluctantly swallowed and washed it down with some water, before realizing that Eric sat down across from him and simply started eating.

“Didn’t think you’d actually emerge from your hell hole today, Eric.” Liam cut the silence with a remark directed at his “friend”. Friend was a loose term, they were merely cell mates, people that inhabited spaces close to each other. Not entirely a friendship, but it was as close as Liam was going to get.
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by: Ezra Whyatt
So now there two men? Ah well. Ezra was here, already done the curiosity of asking. He wasn't about to run of with his tail between his legs. What would be the point? He was many things, but a cowered was not one of them. Even with his knocked confidence after his arrest and conviction, he was no cowered.

Once he got the go ahead Ezra nodded in response and took a seat.
The two men began a conversation and Ezra looked down at his slop, as if glaring at it might some how change the slop in front of him.

There was something though. The voice that came from the original man made Ezra pause, suddenly straining to hear more.
It twinged something in inside Ezra's mind. Not just mind, his memory.
What the hell was this?
Ezra's head snapped up and his eyes settled straight on the man who spoke.
Of course they all looked different in here. Ezra knew certainly he did. Not that there were mirrors in the prison, but he could feel the grime over his face and the length of his hair.
Hardly how he'd have walked around on the outside.

"You're a..." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Well if he'd started he may as well continue. Ezra made sure to keep his voice down and out of ear shot of the guards, just in case.
"were an Auror."
Ezra even more sure now. The name escaped him but Ezra would bet his left leg that he was correct.
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by: Eric Pangbourn
Eric smirked at Liam's words. "Every damned day, my friend," he replied. The term was, of course, used loosely, but he could care less at the moment. The whole point was to seem congenial. Good behavior, nothing to back the bastard's words against him in the hearing. Make his lawyer's job that much easier to get him out on good behavior after however much time.

The plea bargain he'd been pushed to accept was hardly enough. Eric had told his lawyer at their last meeting (yesterday, in fact) that he wanted him to work to get him out as soon as possible and to see if there were loopholes or some sort of protocol that had been broken. Eric didn't care what it took. He wanted to be let off. He would be freed, push for divorce, and behave well long enough to not be suspected when something unfortunate befell Berenice. It didn't have to be death, but something would happen, something that would teach her to keep in line. Berenice would not be allowed to simply walk around without some sort of punishment for her behavior.

The stranger's voice interrupted Eric's thoughts, and he looked at Liam with a raised brow. "An auror, huh?" he said, putting another spoonful of the oh-so-"scrumptious" food into his mouth and swallowing. "Were you part of the guard before your...unmerited imprisonment?"
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by: Liam O'Donnell

The words came from the young man that had chosen to come sit by Liam. It caused Liam to idly respond with a bewildered and somewhat bitter look on his face. No one had referred to him as an auror in ages, and he was wondering how this boy managed to recognize him from that. “Was, yes.” He responded to both Eric and the boy in one swoop, reluctantly bringing the spoon full of porridge (slop) to his mouth. It was a hard swallow, but he forced the food down, as he knew he would probably get more filth for dinner.

He glanced across the table to look at Eric as he spoke, and shook his head. “No. I had joined another organization after the aurors were disbanded.” Liam referred to the Order, without fully saying it. “I also ran a bar in London.” This bar also served as a front for the Order, a safe haven of sorts, until Williams and his right hand, Teague, discovered it. Then the entire wizarding world saw fit to visit. Sure, it was good for business, but sometimes Liam wasn’t sure if he wanted that sort of publicity. “But it’s a little more complicated than that.”

Liam tried not to seem vain, but he was genuinely surprised these two hadn’t heard of him. He wasn’t sure how long the younger boy was locked up, but he wondered if the either of them had seen his face on wanted posters before, or even in the Prophet due to his affiliation with former Minister Darque or even Kara. Though, maybe it was for the best. He wouldn’t want to tell his entire life story to these two strangers, but if he had to, to gain some sort of alliance in these walls, he would have to get to know them first. Given his lack of personable skills in the last few months, Liam was sure it would be one hell of a ride.
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by: Ezra Whyatt
Ezra wrinkled his nose as he spooned a portion of slop up to his face. it didn't matter how long he'd been here, the food offended him just as much as the first day. Another person could say that Ezra should count his blessings for what little he had - but no. He wasn't that guy.
The young man knew this was not he deserved, this hell hole was a direct consequence of his brother's deal with the devil. His baby brother Daniel had gotten what he wanted - rid of his golden brother and the feeling of winning for once.
So what if he'd turned his brother over to those who wanted him dead to get there.

Ezra shook his head and stuffed the spoon into his mouth, trying not to taste the foul substance. Thinking about Daniel would just make him angry.

"Was?" Well weren't they all? Aurors didn't exist any more. The whole division ended up on the run, in prison, defecting to the other side, or dead. None of them were still Aurors.
"Well we all are "former" Aurors..."

Ezra took another bite of his food. He definitely recognized the man. Did he really look so different that he didn't look like Ezra anymore?
That thought left a bad taste in his mouth, one that had nothing to do with the food.

The other man though? He wasn't anyone Ezra recognized. Whatever. That was the same for most of the inmates in this place.
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by: Eric Pangbourn
Eric glanced toward the new man, the one he didn't know or recognize, as he spoke. So, he'd been an auror, had he? That, in turn, made it possible Eric had seen him at some point, but the Unspeakables had rarely interacted with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement nor had he bothered to memorize faces of anyone but those he'd ever been sent out to deal with. Anyone else had been trivial at best and unimportant at least.

Of course, Liam's comment that things were a little more complicated piqued Eric's curiosity. What exactly made it more complicated? What sort of group had he joined? It clearly wasn't owning The Abby, which Eric had heard of but never visited, though it would have been enough to make the wizarding world investigate him a little due to its location, especially with that murder there not all that long ago (Or perhaps it had been that long ago. Time had seemed to fly ever faster with each minute until it had come to a screeching halt with his arrest.).

After taking a contemplative bite of his slop, Eric looked at Liam and rose a brow, his right hand, which held his spoon, twirling a little as he spoke as though to encourage him onward. "A little more complicated?" he asked.
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by: Liam O'Donnell
Liam kept his eyes stern and steely, not moving as the younger man mentioned that they were all former aurors. Well, of course they were. Aurors didn’t exist anymore, they were all just pawns under a new name ‘Imperium Guards’, all sworn to work for the terrorizing regime. He scooped up the slop from his shallow bowl and brought the sustenance to his lips. His mouth took in the spoon with slight reluctance, but he knew he had to keep his energy up. Merlin, this prison food tasted like shit.

“Hm.” He acknowledged the statement with a chuckle. “That we are.” Liam mused, as he scooped in another spoonful of that awful substance.

Liam hadn’t gotten into that conversation with Eric yet, he realized, as he noticed Eric’s reaction with his raised eyebrow. He only explained why he was in this hellhole, the accusations against his name and a few other things, but not the entirety of his life. It was no secret, however, so Liam didn’t mind divulging what was necessary to keep his acquaintances from thinking that he didn’t trust them. Eric, he was okay with sure…but he was only slightly hesitant around this kid. “Yeah, complicated.”

Another bite. How awful. “My wife and I ran with the Order of the Phoenix. Our bar, the Abby is set in London and is frequented by others of our kind, and muggles too of course. The Order disbanded, Williams framed me for murder and only Merlin knows what’s happening with my wife right now.” His left thumb reached in idly to brush the underside of his ring finger. His wedding ring may have been confiscated, but he still knew what it felt like. He sighed.
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by: Eric Pangbourn
Eric nodded slightly as Liam revealed he and his wife had been part of the Order. So, he'd been right the other day in assuming he was a do-gooder the government might have reason to quiet. And ran a bar in the muggle world. Way to fly under the radar doing something so frowned upon by the wizarding world these days due to the turn toward the Death Eater views on blood purity. Had he expected not to be caught? How could the idiot be so stupid? 

Though Williams framing him? Maybe he had given the order, but there had been no way Williams had carried it out. No, it had to be someone he'd ordered to do so, likely someone Liam knew and trusted for some reason or another. Eric sighed.

"Tough luck, mate," Eric said. "Though I don't think a citizen running a bar in the muggle world would do much else other than gain our government's attention these days. Things are skewed." They were, of course, skewed in the right direction in Eric's opinion, but that didn't mean he had to specify it. He'd rather stay on this bloke's good side. Might be useful to him some day.
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by: Ezra Whyatt
It sometimes seemed that there was no one guilty in Azkaban anymore. Ezra wondered how many wizards were stuck within the prisons had stories which matched his own. Of course, it was likely that everyone behind bars thought they were innocent in one way or another... In that respect Ezra supposed he was like every other convict to have ever pas through here.
That thought sent a shiver run through the young man.

You don't deserve to be here... And when you get your hands on the fucker who -
Ezra forced himself to loosen his grip on his spoon, as the metal was pressing painfully into his palm. he needed to calm down. Calm down before one of the hooded guards sensed the spike in emotion.

"Skewed... That's certainly one word for it..." Ezra said in a mutter. Skewed was maybe not the word he'd use. Warped beyond belief, shattering beyond repair... But skewed, he supposed, would do if it had too.
Ezra took a gulp of water from his battered tin mug, the metallic taste stinging his tongue. The world was definitely "skewed", though only time would tell if it was wholly beyond repair.


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