Randal sat with his elbows on his knees, legs spread apart to take up as much space around him as possible. His apathetic expression was hidden behind loosely interlocked fingers, eyebrow raised in visible perplexity. While he was busy trying to wrap his head around the idea of being confined to a prison with 2 mile thick walls, his fellow "students" (convicts, really) were quick to jump on the sociable bandwagon. [i]'We just got shoved into a real life incarnation of a George Orwell novel, and I -still- have to put up with socialites. What a wonderful world we live in.'[/i]

While Randal was ordinarily a caustic son of a bitch, he was at least somewhat entitled to act like one today. You see, Randal was being condemned for abilities he refused to acknowledge. It's a little ironic if you think about it. "What the fuck am I doing here," he sighed as he planted his face inside his hands, desperately waiting for the elevator ride to end.