Rhea grinned, amused by Ace's quick and wry banter with the new girl. "Thanks."

Cessa snorted softly, shrugging. "I dunno, that sounds like loser mentality to me. Every card game has strategy. Let me show you, deal me in next round," The piratess commanded, propping up her knee before resting her arm on it, getting comfortable as she watched.

X'lian hummed in response, trailing behind her friend placidly. She paused briefly to study the groupings of people around the entire recreation center before smoothly sliding into the seat next to Rhea. "I would also like to be dealt in the next round."

Marius watched as the group at the card table shifted around in preparation for a new round. It was nice to see everyone getting along, more or less, especially with such a cut-throat, friendship-killing game as Uno.

"I don't remember it being this peaceful," Marius said to Kazimir, with a head tilt in that direction. "Last time they set out that deck, the infirmary was full."

Eclipse tilted her head just slightly, watching as one of the new inmates approached her. Carefully, calculating, she watched the way he moved, making any note she could from the amount of tension in his posture to the way he walked to the lines in his expression. In return of his grin she gave a small smile in return but there was little emotion in it, her smile purely diplomatic. She didn’t want him getting any ideas and the less he knew about her before she knew exactly what made him tick, the better. However, this would allow her a chance to find out what the other newbie wanted if she played her cards right.

When she saw X'lian moving to sit, Rhea moved her leg out of the way, grinning when the Voidborn sat next to her even though her coming was inevitable. She was quite excited to play the next round, glancing twice in a very pointed way at the inmate frowning at his cards next to her. (Her looks were meant to poke him into deciding to start the new round and shuffle the cards.)

Kazimir had been preoccupied doing more reps while the rest of the rec room buzzed with energy. He hadn't been paying too much attention to the card game in the corner, but when Marius reminded him of the last time... that caught his interest.

Kazimir grunted as he rested the weight down and sighed.

"Maybe the little one has enough spunk to keep the peace," he muttered, sitting up to scan the room again.

There were a few new faces. One was closing in on Eclipse, and he didn't look too friendly. Kazimir wasn't exactly friends with her, but... it was best to keep an eye out.

They'd at least had a decent conversation at the meal prior. In his book, though, anything was decent if it didn't end with him in solitary.

He looked at Marius, then at the weights.

"Want to give it a try?" he asked, getting up from the bench. "I can make it lighter."

Smokey’s sneakers squeaked as he stopped—too abruptly for the floor’s smooth surface to process it cleanly. The sound bounced off the walls, sharp at first, then fading into nothing with each echo.

But his grin lingered. It didn’t grow—just stayed—until the last of the echo died out.

The corners of his lips strained to reach his eyes. No matter how bloodshot they were, he looked like a man ready to collapse from exhaustion at any moment. And yet, this time… something was different. His curiosity betrayed the usual half-baked mannerisms of a junkie with nothing to lose.

He clocked her, too, noticed how little she offered him.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt the show,” he said, voice low, a little dry, but steeped in that smoky arrogance he wore like a second skin, “But I’d rather be watched by someone with eyes that don’t twitch every time I blink.”

He shot a glance over his shoulder—pointed, not subtle—toward Rhea, but then he drifted from her, toward the group huddled around the cards on the table. Everyone seemed to gather there for some odd reason... even his new roommate.

His attention gradually shifted, snaking away from the table, then his neck twisted back in place, eyes as sharp as a whip. “Figured I’d come say hi... before the betting starts.”

“I—“ Marius let out an amused, albeit slightly awkward, chuckle. “That might be embarrassing. I’d be lifting practically just the bar.”

That was true, but Kazimir was trying to think of the future.

There might be a day where Kazimir, for reasons within or outside of his control, wouldn't be around to protect Marius again -- and he wanted Marius to at least have a fighting chance. Or... you know. Be able to withstand a hit, better than he had in the past.

"It's more embarrassing not to try," Kazimir said, sliding the weights off the bar. "You should at least learn the form."

Ace just scoffed at Cessa's inflamed ego. "Yeah, I'll consider dealing you in." Then, they looked to X'lian with a bright smile. "Yeah, we can put you in next round!"

The current round ended quicker than expected, with the entire table somehow missing that another player had called "uno" on his previous turn. (Ace is pretty confident he cheated, but with a full stack of cards still in their hand, they didn't have much room to talk).

As Ace dealt the next hand, they leaned over to Cessa. "I hope you lose miserably," they muttered bitterly.

Marius hesitated, glancing back at the larger group around the table. No one was looking their way. He wasn’t actually concerned for his pride— this wasn’t something he cared a lot for, anyway— but something about it felt he was opening himself up to something uncomfortable. Other people placed a lot of stock in someone’s strength, even if he didn’t.

Still, it seemed to matter to Kazimir, and that was enough for him.

“Alright,” Marius said, relenting with a nod as he took Kazimir’s spot on the bench. He gripped the bar, finding the proper hand placement by stretching his thumbs like he’d seen his friend do before, then lifted the bar.

One rep, then two. That wasn’t so bad.

"Flatten your back against the bench for support when you push up," Kazimir critiqued, looking from Marius to the leery man looming over the kids' card game.

A gut feeling told him the man was likely to start something out of boredom -- because that's how he was when he first came. Cocky, and trying to prove himself, like most inmates did.

But if the guy wanted to make an impression, he wouldn't go for the small fries... he'd go for a bigger fish. So, he wasn't too worried about it.

Yet, anyway.



Something was amusing about just watching. Sy's collection of cemented papers was growing thicker, enough to be more like a sheet of cardboard. Hefty enough to bend - even to weaponize. In a performance of innocence, he'd painted it with a flowery pattern: one he knew had flowers that would remind any earth-born creature of home, but certainly not him.

He held it up for a moment, pretending to admire it as he glanced Eclipse's way once more.

She was too proud to accept an invitation. Everything had to be on her terms, and he understood that. Pride, of course, was as enviable as it was useful. It was what landed her in prison, more than anything, and why she was still here, along with him and the others. It was, however, his perfect foil.

He was aware that he had ended up in prison because he'd fallen on the other side of the spectrum: pride took the form of carelessness, and he'd trusted loose lips that sold him for a dime.

With a grin of amusement, he looked to the gym side of the rec room, where Helrock was tearing what remained of the punching bags to pieces.

They replaced those things every damn day because of mindless muscle idiots like Helrock. Yes, the release of adrenaline helped with one's physiology and regulation, but what Helrock was doing wasn't to his benefit. It was excessive.

For someone who valued strength and size, it was likely he'd never gain Helrock's trust. But he could at least use him as a tool to get in and out of the infirmary, where he could continue to swipe things.

Sy decided to try something else.

Eclipse could come to him when she was ready. But Sy already had a plan in mind, and he'd make it happen. With how fast the prison's security measures were about to turn over, he didn't have time to waste.

Approaching the "weight room," Sy held his painting behind him and slinked up shyly to the two humans whose names he already knew, pretending to be a stranger.

Kazimir and Marius. The inseparable brothers.

"Hello," he said meekly.

Kazimir, the larger of the two by far, stood over his friend with a menacing glare. As expected.

"What do you want?" Kazimir asked gruffly.

Sy looked to Marius, who was managing the weightless bar on the bench.

"...Pointers," Sy said. "Since it appears you are willing to train."

Wynn has been pacing the perimeter of the rec room for a while. Today was uneventful so far, but she knew that speaking that aloud would jinx it. Things would turn on a dime in the Pheligian Falcon, and she knew why: people weren't meant to be cooped up like this. It was one thing to serve time, especially when deserved, but even as a guard, she felt suffocated.

The surrounding storm reminded her every night that there was no freedom found inside the Falcon, for the prisoners or the staff.

She had her eyes on the newcomers. Smokey and Acacius "Ace". She knew the other Kavi in the prison weren't happy with their presence, but so far, they'd kept their distance.

As far as "Smokey" went, there was nothing remarkable about him. She knew from the moment she saw him that he was a free spirit. A wild soul. Putting him in a cage was like trying to bottle fire, and much like others of his kind, it was a recipe for disaster. It would end in his own self-destruction and a dying flame.

She'd watched it time and time again. It never happened quickly. Always, always, it was a slow fade: from blazing, to burning, to flickering.

Prisons weren't just made to put criminals away. They were made to kill a spirit.

Even for those who chose evil, it felt like a cruel fate - but that was why she didn't make those calls. She was too lenient to the troubled soul. It was what got her here. Even in a den of thieves, she was too inclined to trust. That was why she leaned on the integrity of the guards around her, since she couldn't always trust her own.

Sliding up alongside Rufus, her shift-mate and friend, she set her hands on her hips.

"So," she said. "What's the Rufian analysis? Anything interesting brewing, or are we in the clear?"

Rufus glanced down at Wynn, who was only 2 inches above half his height, and then back around the room. "With Hell currently busy tearing up the punching bag, I'd say there's a 26% chance. Raised a little for the unpredictable new inmates. Your guesses?"