Malcolm wandered over to the others slowly and lazily, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. "So, how's everyone doing?" he said, clearly not particularly interested in the lives of everyone around him -- he just didn't want to feel left out. "Oh, is this some sort of 'comparing sizes' thing?" He grinned slightly at the other powers he had been not-so-subtly eavesdropping on. They were all so... interesting.

The more 'freaks' they put in the one place, the easier it would be to work together to get out of the damn prison.

"If anyone cares, mine is totally rad." Malcolm said, wishing that he weren't handcuffed so he could tap his nose secretively. In truth, it was practically impossible to explain it. 'Hey, man, my mind can disconnect from my body,' just didn't seem to cut it.

Yolanda, sensing the short conversation between her and Luciana to be over, went back to pulling at her cuffs. Angry red marks were beginning to appear. The guard who had laid his hand on her shoulder moments before reappeared.

He shot her another warning look, hand resting on a short nightstick holstered at his hip. She glared and pointedly yanked at the cuffs again, a non verbal challenge. There was no way that she was going to behave.

In an instant, the guard had the weapon out and there was a reverberating crack as it made contact. Yolanda fell from the force of the hit, only realizing she had been hit across the face when she tasted blood.

Looking up at the guard, she spat blood and stood up, face giving no indication of the pain that simply wasn't there for her.

Conversations were occurring and ending, bonds were being formed, social dynamics were being established, and Ian was simply present. A lack of meaningful interaction was par for the course since his interment, this being the single possible ripple in his pond of placidity. He would have appreciated someone to chew the fat with, but most of his fellow inmates seemed unapproachable, dangerous, or dull, none of which make for a good debate partner. He supposed he would have to wait for a while before making himself evident, at which point he would reveal his ability. There was no sense in doing so prematurely, as that would likely become more of a spectacle than he would desire.

Leaning awkwardly against his cane, he removed his journal and penned a paragraph or so to himself on the topic. His journal had rapidly filled with notes of this sort, serving to aid him in navigating a perilous climate. Some detailed schedules, guard rotations, prisoner habits, etc. Others expounded theories as to where the hospital was located, who might own it, and why they felt the need to incarcerate the supernatural.

Red gave Luciana a nod and followed behind her toward the newcomers. He maintained a distance, not really certain if he wanted to mingle. When he had arrived, a similar process had occurred. Though, he ignored all the friendly greetings, preoccupied on the voices in his head. The cuffs were loose on him at the time and did not do much to maintain his ability. He has since grown accustomed to the place its residence though he had not made any prior efforts to socialize. The opportunity was available to him now but still he was hesitant. It’d been some time since he had a real casual conversation with a living being. Instead, Red simply stood back and listened in on the ongoing conversations of his peers. Hearing their capabilities astounded him. Many of them were more bizarre than his ability. The new kid who had grown a completely new limb amazed him. He couldn’t explain how that was possible, much like he couldn’t explain how his ability was possible. The insecurity of harboring such a power felt less of a weight on his chest as the realization that he wasn’t alone dawned on him. Their situations may vary but they all had something unique they could do. Something many people found hard to accept, as it turns out. Even with that common ground, Red felt different from the rest. Their ability kept them san; and he sane, too, for the most part. From outside eyes, however, Red would seem like a complete nutcase. To be shunned by the shunned would make his personal living hell feel like a walk in the park. For now, perhaps it was best to keep his ability to himself.

A quick movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Red turned in direction of the commotion in alert, see the girl close to him, the other newcomer, fall to the ground. Shocked as to what transpired, Red walked over to her as she got to her feet. As he approached her he noticed the tall figure standing beside them. One of the guards was staring at the girl with a smug expression, patting a baton against his palm. Red narrowed his eyes at the man in disgust and turned his gaze to the girl. A mark on her face indicated the impact. It seemed like a fairly hard hit, enough to draw blood surely. She didn’t seem fazed by the assault.

“Are you alright?” he felt inclined to ask. Emotionally she appeared just fine, but physically it was clear she was injured. Glancing down at her bound wrist, Red noticed dark bruises forming where her skin rubbed against the cuffs. He reached for her wrist slowly, not sure if she was alright with this action. He lifted her wrist slightly to get a better look, hoping the movement didn’t cause any additional pain.

“That looks pretty bad,” he stated. He could hear the guard snicker behind him. Red rolled his eyes and let out a huff in annoyance. He pulled his hands back and straightened up. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to do that.” He knew that a lot of the people in this facility felt very keen on maintaining their personal space. It was just an instinct. Something he would have done if she were any other person who didn’t have a reason to distrust someone on the spot. He smiled up at her and a short laugh escaped him. “Is your ability not to give a shit?” he asked jokingly.

Yolanda looked away from the guard, turning her attention to a male who seemed to be quite concerned for her wellbeing - something she didn't expect to see in this facility. She glanced down as he touched her wrist and cautiously allowed it.

Moving her cuffed left hand up to her mouth, she felt that her lip was split; she guessed that she must have bitten it upon impact. Yolanda gave a small smile at the man's comment and shrugged slightly.

"I suppose you could say that," She replied. She hesitated shortly before continuing. "I have congenital analgesia. It means I can't feel pain."

The speakers turned on again. "Interaction period ended. All prisoners are to report to the Cafetorium, effective immediately." said the old but clear voice from the speakers. None of the prisoners know whom the man is, nor will they for quite some time. (only hint I'm giving is that he's important). The handcuffs on the prisoners would now retract back to how they were before and a guard would go to each of the prisoners to take them back inside.

The guards would take them along the halls to the back of the building, where the Cafetorium is. There would be a kitchen at the edge of the Cafetorium, and the guards would make them go infrtont of the kitchen where a counter would be standing filled with indivisual plates with half of a warm loaf of bread, 4 plates with 12 slices of steak on each plate, 6 apples, bananas, and pears and 1 slice of watermelon, 6 Brocilli, Brussel Sprouts, Celery, and Tomatoes, and a Canteen of Water and a Canteen on Milk for each of them. (Each prisoners would have to take 6 slices of steak, 3 fruits/1 slice of watermelon, 3 vegetables, 1 Canteen of Water and 1 Canteen of Milk. You don't have to type all that, but I just wanted to point this out for no reason wahtsoever and for other purposes. The prisoners didn't have to take everything, but they had to eat something). The Handcuffs would be loose again so that they could choose and eat their food. They would take their food and the guards would designate them to a seat. They would then be watched by the guards and, unless someone did something irrational, they would be let in peace to eat and chat.

---

Shishi detracted his extra limbs once the speaker came on, and his handcuffs retracted again. His new guard that was designated to watch over him led him inside, along with his inmates. The Hospital was suprisingly well kept. It had grey walls with a texture to them and floors that were also gray, but smoother, but still having a little texture. It felt more like a Prison ratehr than a Hospital, but better maintained than a Prison.

He looked to the others as he walked, the Guard that had used brute force irrationaly was being taken to an elevator, leading to the top floor. He had a guard leading him there and a new guard was leading Yolanda. It was kind of obvious to him that the guard who had lashed out was being fired, good for Yolanda. It seemed that most of the guards and the Hospital itself weren't entirely cruel. He made a mental note of that and continued walking down the hall until they reached the Cafetorium. The room had the same wals as the rest but painted white, but the tiling on the ground was squared and much more smooth. He was a Vegetarian, and so he didn't take any of the Meat, but he took the bread, a banana and two apples, a tomatoe and two celery, a canteen of water and a canteen of milk.

The guard that led him in the Kitchen put him at a table in the front, and he began eating. He was quite starving, the drive from his home was very long, and so he was eating fairly quickly.

Yolanda silently allowed herself to be led into the establishment, resigning herself to cooperation. It wasn't that she had so quickly given up, moreso that she simply didn't care at the moment. The facility was quite nice, when one got past its actual purpose.

Not particularly wanting to eat, she picked up a slice of watermelon and a canteen of water before being shown to her seat. She sat down opposite the man who had been in the van upon her arrival, who appeared quite hungry. Yolanda observed him for a moment before half heartedly nibbling on the watermelon in hand.

Gradually he awoke, he climbed out of the bed to see a guard stood by his door. He sighed and walked over and allowed the handcuffs to be put on. After that he was brought to the cafeteria. He picked up a steak and placed it on a plate and followed his guard to his seat. Sitting down he realised he had been sat by most of the other patients and not by himself like he preferred. His single white glove was unusual. On the back of his hand was Kanji for death touch. He had especially requested it andsurprisenly they allowed it. Mainly as it meant that he could not touch others.

He silently ate his meal as he looked around. He saw one girl, it looked like she was walking towards him. As she neared, he expected her to attack him, to drive a blade into his neck. He closed his eyes and braced for the pain. But just felt her carry on walking. He cut his steak and lifted a piece to his mouth. He saw the saw them, crawling down his fork. Millions of them crawling up towards him. He heard the stainless steel clatter on the floor. He finally brough himself to look down. To see a piece of steak, nothing but a piece of steak and a fork lodged through it.

Yolanda looked up as a new inmate was brought in and sat down nearby. He seemed jittery and on edge, something he was admittedly entitled to in a place like this. As he dropped his fork suddenly, she peered at it; nothing appeared wrong.

Finishing her slice of watermelon, Yolanda opened the canteen of water and took a sip as she continued to watch the male. People watching had always been a favourite pass time of hers - and now there were much more interesting individuals to observe.

He Picked up the fork and placed it on his place away from the rest of his food. He picked up another fork as he continued to eat his food. He saw someone staring at him. He looked straight at them. Even if it was fake, another torture. He needed to speak to someone. Problem was that he did not know what language she spoke. In his dreams they spoke many. So he said hello, first in English. Then he said Good afternoon in Welsh and Japanese. It was the simplest way to tell what tongue they spoke.

Yolanda arched her eyebrows as the male spoke to her, offering up different greetings. "I speak English," She said, neglecting to mention she alsp spoke Afrikaans. "Hello."

He was an unusual looking man, silver haired and gloved. She supposed she shouldn't judge, given her own appearance. She offered him a small smile; after all, she didn't know what his ability was and knew it better than to be rude to someone who could seriously injure her.

"I see, I'm sorry for the confusion." Its just that I often experience livid nightmares and in them people often speak in different languages." He said to her as he took another and thankfully final piece of steak.

Yolanda nodded slowly, eyeing the man, still cautious. "I'm Yolanda." She introduced herself finally, resigning herself to the fact that he would find out sooner or later. She took another sip from the canteen before setting it aside, tapping her fingers lightly on the surface of the table. A nervous tic.

Ali let herself be taken to the cafeteria. As she was allowed to choose her food she took some steak and a celery stick. Being placed down a few seats from Yolonda she begun to eat the steak. Another Inmate was being strange but she couldn't judge, she could see what he could be doing. Thats strange enough for it self. Finishing up the steak she comped down on the celery stick watching the two talk, listening to there conversation. So he had vivid nightmares, she couldn't do anything to help that.