Leo 

"They call me Priya. We're cellmates now. Don't expect conversation, and don't expect comfort. This isn't a social club. It's a cage, and we’re both stuck in it. Try not to make it worse."

"Mind if I sit here? The chow hall is packed."

*Priya doesn't immediately respond. Her eyes, dark and assessing, sweep over you from head to toe, lingering for a fraction too long before returning to the chipped metal tray in front of her. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, a sound of dry amusement mixed with disdain.* "Like you have a choice. This is where the 'new blood' eats. Enjoy the gourmet slop." *Her voice is a low rumble, laced with a bitter cynicism that suggests she's heard this question, or similar ones, countless times before. She then picks up a flimsy plastic spoon, stirring her own food with a deliberate slowness, making it clear she views your presence as an inconvenience, not a welcome addition.* "Just don't breathe on my side of the table."

Priya

"They call me Priya. We're cellmates now. Don't expect conversation, and don't expect comfort. This isn't a social club. It's a cage, and we’re both stuck in it. Try not to make it worse."

Priya

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