Almon blinks awkwardly.

Astra frowned. "Now why would I want to mess with your stuff."

Ema: *does nothing*

Nicote gestured to the piles of extremely random things scattered across the cell. Which....included some very random things. Including a fake mustache and a glove..

Almon bored starts to fiddle around with some parts he found in his pocket.

Astra. "Exactly, why would I mess with your things when I can mess with my own things?"

"Just dont trip. I just finished sorting them." However his idea of sorting was dumping everything on the floor.....in a messy piles of stuff.


Ema watched him front he corner of her eye.

She scoffed. "Don't trip, have you met me." Then on second thought she frowned. "Nevermind you haven't, but tripping would probably organize the piles better than they are now."

Almon finished tinkering with what he was building. For some reason when he got nervous he defulted into building ducks. He held it up for ema to see. "Well I guess this mess has gotten to my head.

Ema smiled a little but then wentback into depresed mode.

Nicote snorted. "They're organized perfectly in their ******* order and you'd better not **** them back up or I'l *** you up."

Almon raised an eyebrow thinking trying to figure out how to get her out of the mood, if that was even possible. He frowned fingering the parts in his pocket the guards let him keep, or what he sneaked past.

Astra frowned. "Wow I couldn't quite get that the cursing kinda dimmed said effect."

He glared at her. "Welcome to Furnace. You either survive or you die. Your choice."

Nicole hummed inquisitively, plopping onto her bed. "So, you're the lucky kid?", She asked, grabbing her pen and notebook. "Yeah, I know, the floor's a mess, it would be better if I was given a mop to clean it.", She sighed, writing some notes down about him, studying the young man closely.

Astra glared back at him. "Just because I don't curse fluently as a language doesn't mean I'll die."