When the going gets tough, the tough tend to destroy things. // oxo // private with misfit!

((Yessssss. I vote yes.))

"Hm." Hugh scrunched up his nose a bit, pondering this. The woman sounded like a psychopath, the way she sounded relaxed and relatively unfazed by the setting they found themselves in, but that didn't matter if she was right. Granted, it was possible that she was lying, but… if she wasn't…
"So you have one, then?" That could be his ticket out of here. Yeah, still risky without weapons, but it was better than nothing. The punishment for trying to escape would likely be him getting beaten half to death, but what did that matter when they were going to kill him tonight, anyways?

There was a note in his voice that belied his thinking. And if there was one thing that Von was good at—there were a lot, actually, she just never saw them—it was telling when someone wanted something from her. Lips upturned in a crooked grin, despite the fact that he couldn't see her, she turned to feel along the bricks in her cell.

"I'd like to know which cell number I'm talking to, if you don't mind. Gotta know how many down you are." Often times, it was easier to learn people by their cell numbers, when permanent. Even now, when it wasn't, it was still a lot less personal and connecting than names.

"Hmph." Hugh had to think a moment, try to recall in his memory what number was outside his cell when they dragged him here and threw him in. The human mind stored all memories, he knew– the trick was finding them. Fortunately, he'd paid a bit of attention when they tossed him into this cage (because he had a tendency to be observant about such things), so it wasn't hard for him to remember. "223 C," he responded after several seconds. He paused, waiting to see what else she had to say, his brow furrowed slightly as he mulled over the situation and his upcoming plans for escaping.

"Nice t' meet you, 223." Von called back, finding the loose brick. She wiggled it a bit, and it slid out fairly easily. If you knew what you were doing, the brick would slide out quick and without a fight, but without knowing how to wiggle it, it would refuse to separate from the wall. Bypassing the little gold locket and trinkets she'd stolen before, she grabbed a blue sheet of paper, folding it three times.

"You're a very lucky man, I hope you know." She said, a slight sing-song to her tone as she pushed on the brick on the other side. Falling to the ground, the chunk of rock-like material left behind an opening into the cell next to hers, something she'd found a while ago. It was lucky the guards were so lazy, allowing her to pretty regularly end up in this cell. "You order a map?"

"Generally, I wouldn't consider myself lucky…" Hugh peered through the opening, into the cell next to his own. " But I suppose we all have good days where fate favors us just a bit. How'd you get this?" he dared to whisper as he reached for it, curiosity eating away at him. He wished she'd talk a little quieter, but he wasn't going to snap at her too much for fear that she might refuse to help him– and he needed the map she had.

Lowering her voice just a tad in a faux-conspiratory tone, Von winked through the opening as she withdrew her hand, leaving the map. As she did, she plucked up the locket, clutching it in a closed fist as she spoke. "I've got a thing for pockets, you could say. More like what's inside 'em, but that's a secret for you an' I. I'd recommend stickin' that brick back in before one of those bootlickers comes 'round the corner." Her voice stayed a bit lower as she talked, less loud than it had been. She'd managed to take note of his unease, at least, even if it was slightly weird to her.

She didn't allow herself to be afraid of what they could do to her. She'd faced the worst she possibly could already, so anything they did, even if it was fatal, couldn't possibly measure up. And besides, they didn't deserve her fear. Nobody here did.

"Oh–" Hugh picked the brick up and carefully pushed it back into its place. "Right. Good call." He readverted his attention to the map in his hands, his brow furrowing in deep thought as he scanned it. Yes. Yes. This was perfect. Exactly what he needed. He could use this map and the information thereon to determine the path of least resistance and get the heck out of this cursed place. "Ah! Brilliant," he whisper-exclaimed. "This is exactly what I need. Thank you."
Now all he needed to do was get out of the cell, and he'd be home-free.

"No problem." Brick in place on her end too, Von plopped down on the floor in her cell, laying back on the cold concrete and feeling the chill seep in through her clothing. She was only wearing a tanktop, after all. Kicking her legs up in the air, she moved her feet like she was peddling a bicycle, clasping the locket around her neck. "Can I ask what it is you're usin' it for? Or is that classified." The light and joking tone suggested she wasn't too intrigued, willing to let it slide and uncaring if it did. In actuality, she was kind of curious. Really curious. "Actually, screw that." Talking about it now was probably a deathtrap for her cell neighbor though.

The sudden changes in topic seemed so random and fast paced, like her brain moved a step too fast to keep up with. Undiagnosed ADHD was the definite cause of that, though she didn't even know what that was. All she did know was that it was another thing her parents had hated. "Where ya from? And what brought ya here?"

((do you want me to puppet the guard, or would you like to?))

((You can if you want!! Sorry for the delay. I've been SUPER busy.))

Hugh didn't respond for several seconds, chewing his lip thoughtfully as he eyed the map. "Nothing worth mentioning," he responded numbly. He glanced up at his cell door, his mind reeling. "You don't happen to have a lock pick, do you?" It was a long shot, he knew, but worth asking nonetheless.

((that's perfectly fine! i'll do the guards to take an extra load off your shoulders))

"That sounds like somethin' someone would say to hide somethin' interesting." Von said, eyebrow arched even though her couldn't see it. "Bobby pin in the hole. My lockpicks keep getting taken." She frowned slightly, ears catching the sound of footsteps. The guards didn't usually come down here for another three minutes. Writing it off as a prisoner pacing their cell, she continued her peddling. "You do know how to use them, right?"

(Thank you! I'll respond ASAP. I'm suuuuuper inactive rn and trying to get caught up on all my RPs. So so sorry for the wait! Tysm for being so patient <3 )