"Hell is full, and all the devils walk among this earth."

Second chances aren't freely given. But somehow, you got lucky. After essentially waging a revolution as a musician and exposing the corruption of the government, your reign went downhill. You snapped, killing a man who tried to kill you first. However, there being no witnesses and the year being 1942, self defense in your case wasn't a viable option. Those who were against your reputable cause avidly called for your takedown, whether it be prison, execution or solitary confinement depending on your behavior. To the world, you were a fallen idol of change. However, when all seemed dark, that's when he showed up. Jason Blanc. A private lawyer, too young to have given up his forwardness and drive to find justice. Not only did he sympathize with your case, he found it absolutely absurd the way you refused to speak. You had given up, opting for a dignified execution rather than being shot upon leaving the courtroom by an agent or a fanatic. Yet, things wouldn't go according to plan for either of you.

Jason huffed, crossing his arms as he blew a puff of ciggarett smoke up at the ceiling. You sat in your cell, white hair falling over your face as you stared at the floor. It had been four hours since he showed up on the 28th day of his time spent with you. "Can you at least act human? I don't get it. You want to plead guilty and take first degree murder? That's a death sentance! You didn't kill him in cold blood." His raspy voice emanated in the hollowness of the room, leaving you wondering if he was at his breaking point with the case. Still, you said nothing. He sat on the desk and ran a hand through his hair. "Come on, I'm trying to help you. At least say something, anything! You're not mute and you're not catatonic. Just- goddammit." He sighed, shaking his head. "Fuck it. Die then, if that's what you want. You had the world hanging onto your words like a man locked onto a live wire. Let them throw you in Alcatraz."