welcome home

Joshua smacked Dominics hand away the instant it touched him. “Touch me one more time and I’ll find a way to catch you off guard and kill you.” He snarled before looking over the other and raising his brow. “Myself and those that I’m going to get to help me?” He asked, watching where Dominic put back his gun.. Just in case he ever needed access to one. “I don’t expect justice from the justice system, I just want it for certain people that deserve it.” Joshua murmured, looking over the other. “Did you wash your chair too? You know, after the whole ‘everyone fucking in your office’ incident? Because I rode someone whilst he was sat on your chair. Just so you know.” He smirked, sauntering away from the Warden and to the other side of his desk again. “You didn’t kill Quentin, did you?”

For the most part, Dominic ignored Joshua. Pretended that he had nothing else to say to the boy because as far as he was concerned, their conversation was over and he had actual work to do. He had to expand the medical ward, had to get a new contract for food shipment, order medical supplies -- the list went on. With a sigh, he set down his pen and looked back up at the inmate. He didn't bother entertaining his question on the chair. Dominic had replaced his furniture, but he wasn't going to inform Joshua of that. He found it absolutely disgusting when others spoke so openly about their sexual exploits. Perhaps it was because he was a private man in that regard, but Dominic loathed the idea of anyone knowing his business -- and of knowing everyone else's. But when the inmate asked if he'd killed Quentin, Dominic smiled again. That same, ambiguous smile. "It's not in my best interest to discuss the workings of this island with the inmates here. I like you, Joshua, but not enough to let you in on my secrets."

dominic // closed

I like bleeding other people. But who knows. I might like bleeding just as much.

So compliant. I like that. Don't make it a habit, but every now and again, I don't see how it can possibly be seen as a bad thing.

dominic // closed

You’re always horny and pissed off. But I can handle you. I always do.

Mmn. I'll make you rethink that. Do you like bleeding? Because it's going to happen.

dominic // closed

That depends. You going to take it easy on me? I’m still bruised from your idiot guards.

I'm horny and pissed off. I'm sure you can come up with a decent answer for that.

dominic // closed

As well rested as I am going to get.

Well rested enough for me?

Until I see it fit for you to leave. -- Are you well-rested?

Joshua expected nothing but the worst from Dominic, so it wasn’t surprising that he just lay down and accepted the fact of the matter that Quentin was most likely dead, and if he wasn’t then he was lucky. When the warden closed the gap and pressed the gun against his neck Joshua just smirked. “Shoot me. Go on, shoot me!" He shouted as loud as he could at the warden, his anger obvious, his rage never subsiding. "I’m guessing that you keep them shoved up your fucking ass just like everything else. Am I right? Or was I supposed to ask and then you were going to shoot me just to be all dramatic?" Joshua sneered, looking over Dominic like he was a piece of shit on his shoe. 

Dominic's head canted to the side at Joshua's violent display. Such a lack of passion from this boy as of late. It was so nice to see it again. He hummed, smiled to himself, and lowered the gun. His other hand came to pat Joshua on the cheek. "You want to see Leviathan's anger issue fixed," he said, "then I'm giving you a free pass to do whatever you want to him." Having received what he wanted from the inmate, Dominic returned to his desk. He set the gun back inside the drawer and closed it, returning to his paperwork. "You're a member of Hollowed Heart, Joshua. Start acting like it. It greatly distresses me when you expect justice from the justice system. Everyone else knows that it's only a fairy tale."

"You’re smiling? Oh my God, you’re smiling at the fact that you killed someone who didn’t deserve it. You killed someone who had done nothing wrong and who deserved to die less than anyone I’ve met in this world. You’re such a cunt!" He exclaimed before narrowing his eyes. "How can someone defend themselves properly with a broken arm?" Joshua shot back before making his way around Dominic’s desk. "You ‘couldn’t care less’?" He scoffed before shaking his head. Joshua couldn’t believe his ears and he couldn’t believe that this man was the one in charge of this prison. They may all be criminals, but they deserved better than him. "What’s your problem, Dominic? Why the gun? Do you feel threatened by me? I’m obviously doing something right. I’m going to make your life and your job a living hell if one more person I actually care about gets hurt and you don’t attempt to stop it or give out proper punishment when it happens and nothing will change my mind on that." He threatened, inching closer and closer to him. 

Ah, the ambiguous nature of a smile. What was disgusting about the warden wasn't that he had killed Quentin (because he most certainly hadn't) but that Joshua was so eager to accept it as fact that he had. And this only made the smile grow larger. It wouldn't be long before it stretched right off his face. As Joshua advanced, Dominic stood -- broad-shouldered and nothing but muscle. He didn't get to his position here by being a pushover, and that most certainly wasn't going to stop now. He had been beaten, stabbed, shot at, and threatened on a daily basis. Anything Joshua tried to throw at him now would be nothing short of child's play at this point. "Ask me," he said, closing the distance between them. He stood inches from Joshua, gun pressed against the pulse of his neck. "Go on. Ask me. Ask me where I keep the fucks I give."

tug and pull || dexter & dominic

Dominic said nothing in regards to Dexter's condition, or how it got to that point. He had no clue why the other guards went down there and did what they did. If it was Landon's fault, then it was in retaliation of Dexter's threats. Dominic knew that Landon would not intrude on his territory and ruin anything of the warden's without good reason. He hated that anyone else had laid a finger on Dexter, that the bruises that marked his skin weren't delivered by the warden himself. The jealousy made him nauseated, sent chills up his spine. But, still, he said nothing. Once they were outside, Dominic tried to continue pulling Dexter along, but the inmate was stumbling and moving much too slow for his tastes. So, without wasting a moment, Dominic picked Dexter up into his arms and carried him over the uneven terrain, picking up speed quite a bit now that he didn't have to worry about the boy passing out halfway there. "We'll get you in the bath," he said, not at all soothingly but matter-of-factly, "get you fed. Is there anything in particular you would like to eat?"

tug and pull || dexter & dominic

The dirt on Dexter's body didn't even seem to bother Dominic. Whether he was weak or not didn't matter, either; Dominic pressed him against the wall and cuffed his wrists together anyway. He didn't bother turning off the lights as requested. Didn't even bother speaking. Not at first. He was much more invested with getting Dexter up the stairs. If he stumbled, well, Dominic would just have to drag him the rest of the way. Once they were out of the basement and in the much brighter parts of the prison, Dominic could see the effect lack of food and light had on Dexter. He seemed thinner, perhaps, but also significantly paler. What an interesting experiment, seeing what just a few days deprived of bodily needs could do to someone. "To my home," he finally answered, dragging Dexter down the corridor still. "We're going to my home."

"That is not the only thing I have left here, Warden, and you are stupid if you think that." He growled at the man before narrowing his eyes. "So what, you’ll take away my bible? Because that’s practically the only thing I own. You want to do that, I’ll just go to the library and read it there." Joshua snapped back before furrowing his brow and sheer anger over took him. "You killed Doctor Quentin? Answer me!" He yelled at the Warden, going closer to him despite the gun that was pointed at him. "You better put that thing down, Dominic otherwise you’re going to make me even more angry." Joshua tried his best to calm himself down, but it just wasn’t working. "Well that depends on what the fuck you want, doesn’t it? I don’t suppose Leviathan has been causing you trouble recently? I’ll quite happily sort him out. He’s making threats to your staff. To Officer Stormbrooke. Before he left me at the hosptial, he told me he was going to maim him again. Are you going to do something about that, or ignore that as well?"

He listened to Joshua rant and rave about the most unnecessary bullshit Dominic had ever heard. Something about killing Quentin (which made Dominic smile, and unabashedly so), putting his gun down (he only held it more steadily) and Leviathan being a naughty boy. Like, as Joshua undoubtedly knew, most of the men in Alcatraz were. "If Officer Stormbrooke refuses to defend himself against a repeat attacker, then he's only bringing it upon himself," he said. "He's the one with the superior weapons and training. If he falls victim to Leviathan again -- I truly couldn't care less."

As he sat there listening to the woman ramble about things he didn’t care to hear, hawk eyes watched the Warden. For a brief moment, he didn’t even his lawyer’s voice. Not until the other’s reach to the phone had brough out her voice through the speaker phone. Raphael shrugged as he put the receiver down. If the other man wanted to hear her drone on, so be it. After a long moment though, Raphael finally spoke up. “Jasmine, Darlin’. I didn’t call you so I could…” And then he heard it… what made sense and pulled it altogether. A man’s voice. “Who’s there with you?”, he asked, a devious smirk forming at his features with a gleam in his darkening eyes. Of course he felt nothing for the woman but he would make her so sure of otherwise. He grinned in satisfaction as she fumbled over her words to give him an answer. “I’m gonna stop you right there, Darlin’. Here I’ve been trustin’ you with my case, and you’ve been lettin’ some other fella distract you. I thought I meant somethin’ to you, Kitten. You were special to me.” Though is voice and Southern drawl were filled with emotion and disappointment, his face emotionless past the grin. “Get rid of him,” he said in a low and dangerous tone, dark eyes solidly and shamelessly locked on the Warden. “And you know what I mean by that.”

Oh, for fuck's sake. "I'd like to inform you that your client's call has been monitored and recorded." Dominic disconnected the call then, glaring at the inmate. If looks could kill, Luciano would be a victim right about now. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what he could do to wipe that smug look on his face. "All privileges to communicate with the world outside of these walls have been revoked," he said. "Your letters will not be sent. Letters addressed to you will not be received. Calls will not be allowed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to tend to." He had to make sure an attorney wouldn't wind up on trial. Fucking bastard.

quid pro quo :: dexter & dominic

Dominic knew that Dexter wouldn't be so eager to the alternative, and hearing it only made him laugh. It wasn't like he kept lube in his office, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be considerate enough to use his own saliva, so Dexter had only one choice. "I thought you'd see to reason," he said, back arching into Dexter as the nails sank into his skin and dragged down. It stung -- and he could feel the blood rising to the surface. Everything that Dexter had was precisely what Dominic wanted. This game of cat and mouse that delayed the inevitable only made it so much sweeter in the end. He loved the way Dexter kissed him -- all teeth and tongue. Loved the way the inmate's lips looked bruised and abused when Dominic broke the kiss to look at him. He kept his hand wrapped firmly around Dexter's throat, the weight of Dominic's body keeping the boy's hips in place on the desk. With his free hand, the traced the lines of Dexter's full lips -- fingers still bleeding from the bite, if only a bit. He left small streaks of blood across Dexter's pretty face, licking his lips in desire. "You don't want it dry," he said, slowly, "then I suggest you open up and get used to not biting."