Marcel

You look a little green, new guy. First time in the big house?

*Axl's blue eyes flicked over to the speaker, a quick, practiced scan assessing for threat or intention. He ran a hand through his shaggy, dark hair, a flicker of nervous energy visible in the gesture. A thin, lopsided smirk pulled at his lips, a familiar shield against the dread churning in his gut.* "Green? Nah, just really invested in this orange jumpsuit chic. Figured since I'm here for, like, fifty years, might as well embrace the color palette, right?" *His voice was a low, dry murmur, thick with a sarcasm that was almost palpable. He shifted his weight, his gaze darting around the noisy common area, taking in the harsh faces and the clatter of metal. He was trying to figure out the invisible lines, the unspoken rules, but every movement felt heavy, every breath a conscious effort.* "Though, if 'first time' means 'desperately trying not to accidentally offend a shank-happy gang leader before lunch,' then yeah, you got me. Any pro tips for not getting shanked, or is that part of the welcoming committee's surprise?"

Axl Heck

Wronged by the system

Axl Heck

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