The cuffs dug into her skin, her bones shifting every time her wrists moved even slightly.
The rhythmic tapping of footsteps on stone rang through the hallway.
Murmurs of people locked up behind bars reached her ears as their stares raked across her skin.
Throughout it all, her smirk never slipped, not even an inch.
The body in front of her stopped, and she was forced to in return.
Keys jangled as they clicked into a lock.
She studied the hallway around her, dark and dreary, barely lit by lanterns placed so that their circles of light just touched.
Chatter entered her ears as a pair of guards walked by just ahead, crossing into another hall.
The cells next to her were filled with whimpering prisoners, people whose faces were sunken and sallow.
The smell was awful, the encompassing stench of sweat and piss.
The muggy heat definitely didn’t help matters; the humidity caused her skin to release more moisture to stay cool, leaving her body uncomfortably wet.
“Alright, in you go.” A hand reached out and splayed itself on her shoulder, shoving her into the now open cell.
“Whoa, no need to be so rough; I personally prefer things a little…gentler.” She purrs, letting her eyes flit up and down the guard’s body.
She had on a standard guard’s uniform, a baton at her waist, and the keys clutched tightly in her hand, connected to her waist by a string.
Her bright orange hair was tied up in a low bun just under her guard’s cap with a few bangs peeking out just above her right eye.
She was cute, not really her type though.
But flirting was the number one way to get out of any bad situation.
At least, according to the book Top Ten Ways to Get Out of Bad Situations by top thief Raymond Newmar.
Unfortunately, it was left in her bag, which had been confiscated.
All hopes of a little light reading had now been dashed.
“Just get in the cell, I don’t wanna hear another peep out of you.” The guard growls, looking entirely unamused as she undoes the lock around her cuffs.
The guard catches them before they go clanging to the floor, and she flexes her wrists as soon as they’re free.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be such a wet blanket about it.” She whines, stepping fully into the cell.
The keys jangle once again as the door is slammed closed and locked, eyes following the guard as she walks away.
Only once she’s around the corner does she take a moment to inspect the cell she’s in.
There’s a small window made even smaller by the bars covering it.
A toilet and a sink in the far right corner, and a set of four beds, two on the back wall and two on the left.
She then promptly realizes she is not alone.
There are two other people in the cell, and they’re both staring right at her; it would be enough to make even the most experienced romantic embarrassed, but she wasn’t so easily cowed.
“Well, I thought that went well.
Do you think she’ll come back later?” She winked, her eyes attracted first to the small man sitting on the bed.
His hair was black and shaggy, reaching just to his shoulders and not a fraction below; his bangs were messy enough to cover his right eye, if only slightly.
A pair of feathers crowned his head on either side, the colors reminiscent of a parrot.
His dark skin was covered in freckles, and his brown eyes glared at her from across the room.
His shirt was a long-sleeved dust red color, cutting off at the shoulders with a black turtleneck undershirt beneath.
Bandages peeked out where his hands rested, and she wondered if his arms were injured.
A pair of black shorts cut off at the thigh, where his legs became a mess of feathers that ended with sharpened talons clicking impatiently against the floor.
In his hair sat a red bandana, set across the middle of his head like a headband.
On his ears were earrings made of feathers, presumably his own.
On his neck was a necklace, a singular black feather its only decoration.
What her eyes were most drawn to, however, were the large, brightly colored wings he sported.
“Hah, do you really think you’ll be able to flirt your way out of jail?” He scoffs.
Rolling her eyes, they naturally progress to the other man in the room, who was looking at her curiously.
On his head was a red Pirate’s hat with a black-and-gold trim.
His outfit was much the same, with a large red overcoat hastily put on, the buttons attached to the wrong sections, and a pair of black pants and boots.
A pair of black gloves covered his hands.
His tan skin was proof of long days out in the sun.
Long, slightly curly brown hair rested just below his shoulders with a few streaks of grey in it.
His eyes were a soft brown, and the dark circles under them betrayed his exhaustion.
Another sign of exhaustion was the patchy beard topped off with a bit of fuzz for a mustache.
Something about him seemed oddly familiar…oh!
That was it; she had seen his face on numerous wanted posters, though back then, he had shorter hair and was a bit more clean-shaven.
“You’re Rubio, right?!
The famous Pirate, Captain of the Ruby Pirates.
Oh my Seas, I’ve always wanted to meet a famous Pirate.
How did you get caught?
I need you to tell me everything, right now.” She gushes, plopping down on the bed next to him.
“Uhm, w-well…” He stutters, and she leans in closer as he opens his mouth to speak more, but is interrupted by the Seed Pecker.
“Hey, Kelp Chewer, rude much?
You don’t just ask how people got thrown in jail.” He emphasises, making her scowl.
“Yeah, that’s the point; it’s jail, Bird Brain.
We’re all in here for a reason; nobody is going to judge unless you actually did something bad, like hurt kids or something, and then I’d shank you.
As soon as I got my hands on a shank, that is.” She replies.
“At least introduce yourself first.
I’m not telling you how I got into jail whilst only referring to you as Fish Breath in my head.” He chides, crossing one feathered leg over the other.
“I didn’t want to hear how you got in jail in the first place.
But whatever, fine, I’ll introduce myself.
My name is Thalia, and I may have seduced a Navy Captain’s daughter to try and grab a few extra coins before leaving.
He caught me and apparently didn’t take too kindly to his daughter talking about running away to be a thief, which, by the way, was so not my fault.
But anyway, that’s how I got thrown in here.” She finishes, then turns back to Rubio, expectation written all over her face.
“Right, well, as you probably already know, I’m…Rubio and I just got unlucky; I was caught off guard while shopping at a port, and didn’t realize I entered the Royal Sea.
Not much else to the story.” He rubs the back of his head awkwardly, leaning slightly away from Thalia.
“I’m Astra, and I may or may not have blown up a Navy-protected town.” Her head whips around to the Harpy, her mouth falling open in shock.
“No way!
What happened?!” There almost seem to be stars in her eyes as she stares at Astra in excitement.
He basks in the attention, a lazy smirk on his face.
“Not telling, figure it out yourself.”
“Oh, you are such a bastard.
I told you everything that happened to me; it’s only fair you do it in return.” She pouts.
“I didn’t ask you to!
Besides, as you said, it’s prison; I don’t owe you anything.” He shrugs.
Webbed hands clench into fists, but she sighs and drops them.
Not worth it to punch her roommate when she’s in here for…how long was her sentence again?
Two years, three years, maybe it was for life.
Whatever, it’s all about perspective.
Free food and board don’t sound too bad, eh?