[It's almost an immediate thing, to tell Bellamy he doesn't need the protective act. He doesn't, really, especially if it's going to get any worse than this. But he'd be flying in the face of their history to say he doesn't need Bellamy's protection. Solo wasn't how people survived, and they worked best together.]
(Yeah, yeah.)
[The muttered response, getting into line in front of Bellamy. Yan ends up somewhere behind them. He doesn't keep too close a check. It's unlikely, he thinks, that he'll try anything with this many guards around.
He's right. They're marched out of the cell and into the central area without incident, ready prepared trays of food dumped into their hands before they take seats at the rows of tables. Murphy doesn't waste time trying to figure out what it is; he starts eating immediately, doesn't slow down for appearance or to match Bellamy's reluctant pace.
It turns out meal time is for meals only, though, according to the guard who comes over to get him moving as soon as it looks like he might just sit there with an empty tray in front of him. He gets up with a very similar acknowledgement as he'd given Bellamy earlier, turns to head back to their cell, and walks straight into the hardened plastic of one of the food trays.
It's over before it's really started. The first blow stuns him for a second, but when Yan follows it by tackling him to the floor, he gets his knees up, drives the point of his elbow into the back of Yan's neck until he lets go. Another second, a few solid punches to both his face and Yan's, and then there's the painful full-body jolt of a taser shock, Yan's weight being dragged off him and arms hauling him roughly to his feet.
Murphy catches sight of Bellamy's face briefly as the guards cart him away from the cells, and he has to smile, sharp with the blood in his mouth.]
no subject
( Yeah, yeah. )
[The muttered response, getting into line in front of Bellamy. Yan ends up somewhere behind them. He doesn't keep too close a check. It's unlikely, he thinks, that he'll try anything with this many guards around.
He's right. They're marched out of the cell and into the central area without incident, ready prepared trays of food dumped into their hands before they take seats at the rows of tables. Murphy doesn't waste time trying to figure out what it is; he starts eating immediately, doesn't slow down for appearance or to match Bellamy's reluctant pace.
It turns out meal time is for meals only, though, according to the guard who comes over to get him moving as soon as it looks like he might just sit there with an empty tray in front of him. He gets up with a very similar acknowledgement as he'd given Bellamy earlier, turns to head back to their cell, and walks straight into the hardened plastic of one of the food trays.
It's over before it's really started. The first blow stuns him for a second, but when Yan follows it by tackling him to the floor, he gets his knees up, drives the point of his elbow into the back of Yan's neck until he lets go. Another second, a few solid punches to both his face and Yan's, and then there's the painful full-body jolt of a taser shock, Yan's weight being dragged off him and arms hauling him roughly to his feet.
Murphy catches sight of Bellamy's face briefly as the guards cart him away from the cells, and he has to smile, sharp with the blood in his mouth.]
( So much for staying in front of you. )