"...and a heavy blow to the head, Fire Skink has been knocked completely unconscious! The winner is: Box Turtle! Shame for Fire Skink, but she'll have to play the penalty game!"
Komodo rolled her eyes and turned off the television. Watching a fight was one thing... watching someone get maimed for no reason other than for the sake of the torture itself was another. She rolled out of bed and headed to the cafeteria, figuring she would grab some snacks or something. Maybe she would get lucky and the commissary would have a bag or two of Doritos left. Those were usually quick to be bought up, though.
As it turned out, there was a single bag of Doritos within the walls of the prison. Unfortunately for the Komodo, they had been purchased not three minutes ago. Only three people were currently in the cafeteria. Two were newbies, quickly scarfing down some prison food as they attempted to figure out how to cope with the drastic change in their lives. The third was seated quietly, peacefully, in the corner of the mess hall, the bag of Doritos sitting unopened on the table. It was a bag of the new Doritos Blaze as well: a rare opportunity for whoever was lucky enough to grab them. That someone happened to be the Cobra.
After his win against Komodo just a week ago, he had decided to take the opportunity when it arose and spend a few of his very hard-earned points on something he doubted would ever make its way down beneath the earth. Usually much of the food they got was either the knockoff brand or normal flavors -to find a new flavor down here was like finding the holy grail. Though he had purchased the rare snack, he had not partaken as of yet. After all, such a sought-after prize could be a valuable bargaining chip in the future. For now, he left it sitting logo-out, enticing any who saw it as he casually stared at a blank page of his notebook, occasionally putting pencil to paper and drawing a line. It was nothing serious-his main project was in his cell-but even in the depths of Deadman Wonderland he saw art everywhere. Even in the mildly annoyed face of his rival as she walked into the cafeteria.
Of course Cobra would nab the new flavor. "Fuck him. At least I can get a different flavor." thought Komodo as she headed over to the vendor's window... and almost immediately went off. "The fuck do you mean none left?! Like, at all?! So I have to wait a fucking week for the next shipment of commissary shit to come in?! Man, fuck you." She turned and stormed back toward the exit to the cafeteria, but stopped short across from Cobra's table. He had placed the bag with the logo facing the rest of the room, clearly showing off his prize. That pissed Komodo off even more. Tilting her gaze in his direction, Komodo asked a single question. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?"
Ah, perfect. He knew after the fit he heard from the commissary store she'd come around to his table. He hadn't chosen the Doritos BECAUSE he knew she liked them, but it wasn't a bad jab at her in the meantime. He pretended to ignore her, scrawling a few more lines in his notebook, before he flipped back a page, standing the notebook upright. It simply read 'Want one?' in extremely fancy writing; it was obvious he had been working on it for a while. His smile held no venom, but he doubted she would do any less than deck him for being so cheeky right in her face. Not that he wouldn't share if she was civil, however. He wasn't going to pretend that his recent rivalry with her hadn't been quite helpful to him, and in a way he was grateful she existed. Not grateful enough to not be a dick, though.
If looks could kill, Cobra would have been dead after flashing that note to Komodo. "Boy, you REALLY let that win go to your head." As she spoke, Komodo used the spiked ring on one of her thumbs to puncture the palm of her hand and draw blood for what came next. Her hand oozed blood from the small wound, then became fully covered by it as her Branch of Sin caused it to form a sort of clawed gauntlet. "So how about you carefully consider what you do next, hmm? Wouldn't want to lose your precious hands... would you, mister artist?" While some might think it to be simple posturing, Komodo was not playing around. Cobra may have bested her in a single fight, but he was acting like he had foiled her at every turn. How quickly he forgot why it was that he had lost his tongue. Perhaps he needed a reminder.
Cobra eyed Komodo as boredly as he had just a moment ago. Though the threat loomed in front of him, he very calmly closed his hands. It was an innocuous move to most, but Komodo would surely understand why he did so. If she didn't, the flash of his silver spiked rings on his middle fingers would be a reminder. He raised one hand, palm facing out, while scribbling in the notebook with the other. It was a standoff of sorts as he eyed her seriously, continuing to write down a few sentences in the thankfully uncrowded cafeteria.
Only when he finished did he flash the notebook out to her. 'You cannot take a joke, can you? Do you want a Dorito or not? Can I not have any fun at all, Officer?' He let it hang for a minute before he set the notebook down, keeping his other palm pointed at her once again. Though he had not drawn his blood spikes, he knew he did not have to; he had the quickest attack in Deadman Wonderland, and he knew she knew that. Were she to even flinch for a moment, he'd be capitalizing on the opportunity. Of course, were she to attack, he'd simply defend until the Undertakers kicked her ass around. They tended to always show up right when conflict was beginning to peak...
And this time was no different. Being alerted as soon as Komodo began her outburst, Fist and Iron Mask made their way to the cafeteria at a brisk pace. Their arrival coincided withan angry growl from Komodo, who had just read the second note and was preparing to retaliate. "I suggest the two of you quit while you're still breathing on your own. The Warden doesn't want us to KILL you... but we ARE allowed to do pretty much whatever else we want to you." Fist, the tall and muscular Undertaker, made his intentions crystal clear. Either they relaxed... or he would "restrain" them. Usually, that meant viciously beat until near-death. Komodo narrowed her eyes at Fist's ultimatum. For a few seconds, it even looked like she was going to mount an attack. However, she knew she was outmatched. There would be a day when she would show Fist his own insides, but today was not that day. "Hrr... fine. This asshole isn't worth dying for, anyway." The blood composing her claws oozed back into the wound in her palm and sealed the small hole shut. At the same time, Iron Mask gave Cobra the evil eye and addressed the mute in a similar manner to how Fist had confronted Komodo.
"You may have defeated miss Komodo, but should you decide you're too big for this place, we'll reminj you exactly where you belong, 'la artiste'." Cobra always wondered why Iron Mask had problems pronouncing the letter d on occasion. He also wondered just what that mask hid from the rest of the world. Of course, neither of those things mattered in the grand scheme of things. What did matter was that he had license to maim and a very obnoxious weapon in those gauntlets. Cobra shrugged his shoulders, picking up his notebook and writing a note, which he showed to all three of them. 'I was just offering my rival to share a snack. It isn't my fault she decided she'd rather eviscerate me.' He shrugged his shoulders, holding up the bag to her once again. Cobra internally was laughing his ass off. He'd managed to make her look even more of a deranged psycho than she was...though he knew the pair of Mask and Fist could care less. Hopefully she'd come to her senses and just have a damn chip or two...she was still a worthy rival to him, and he wasn't heartless...even if he acted like he did his thinking ass-first.
Just as Cobra moved to reveal his note, Komodo presented him with a middle finger and kept it there as she addressed the Undertakers. "He BELONGS in the doctor's cold storage, waiting for... whatever that crazy fuck does with dead bodies. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go play video games. This little get-together has ruined my appetite." Fist motioned toward the door, and Komodo sneered at the big Asian Undertaker as she walked past. She did not even acknowledge Cobra on her way out. To her, his arrogance held a particular sting. Yeah, she had lost to him. But he had also lost to her. Why he was so smug, she had no idea. And that pissed her off to no end. She'd cool off for a bit, maybe head to the gym or something after playing a game or two. Anything to vent her frustration in a way the Undertakers deemed acceptable.
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