"Okay, right, okay," Yorick muttered to himself, trying to ignore the sound of Natalya crying. It was about as unnerving as 355 showing some kind of vulnerability, and he didn't have time to think about it, not right now. "I can do that."

He dropped to the ground, searching with his eyes and palms for something he could use. "I don't have my stuff, fuck," he hissed, "goddamnit...just one bobby pin, something..."

The floor was clean. There was nothing. Fuck all nothing. He stood and walked the length of the cell before realizing he had a belt. It probably wouldn't work, but fuck if he wasn't going to try.

Yorick whipped his belt from the loops and started jiggling the pointy part in the keyhole, closing his eyes in some poor attempt at focusing, hands trembling slightly.