With Lauden's departure from the scene, the second guard returned to the common area, giving the corpse-like man a good, almost cautious, look over as they crossed paths, studying him in a way, really, before turning his attention back ahead of him. With a shake of his head, he made his way over to the small gathering of people composed of the other guard, Bezaliel, Dr. Gate, and Sabriel. He and the other guard exchanged something that was halfway between a high-five and a handshake, holding each other's hand for a moment before letting go as the returning guard gave a heavy sigh.

Sabriel's attention tore from whatever response he had prepared for Dr. Gate and locked right onto the two guards. He smirked and gave a light laugh, crossing his arms over his chest as he jutted his chin toward the pair in a directive gesture, "What's truly cute here is how these two continue to go on pretending like they aren't shacking it up in the galley while we're all sleeping," he mused and focused on the returned guard, "Remind me again about that girlfriend you said you have? Is she aware you play around with your buddies from work? Or is this just some fucked up 'just between us' sort of thing? My, my, I do wonder how she'd feel about this."

"Go suck a dick, Sabriel," the guard spat.

Sabriel only grinned at that and leaned toward the man, "Are you volunteering?"

It was the other guard who stepped in at that point, stepping between the two men and pushing them apart, "That's enough," he said, "I'm going to go get the snacks I promised. Can you two at least try not to kill each other?"

"Oh, but darling!" Sabriel started, his tone overly dramatic as he brought the back of his hand to his forehead and set his other hand over his chest, "Don't you realize? I'm a serial killer, killing people is in my nature!" the act was barely held as the white-haired man grinned widely, showing off his upper set of overly sharp canines as he slumped and stumbled a few steps back, keeping up the dramatics as he plopped to the floor, "How ever could I go on in life without killing someone? You may as well take away my ability to eat! To drink water! To sleep! How ever am I to cope in life without murder?" By that point, Sabriel has completely fallen back on the laminate, theatrically sprawled out like a corpse from a bad crime show.

The guards watched him, unamused, and the smaller of the two turned and headed for the galley, "Again. Just try," he said as he went.

Sabriel frowned, watching the man leave from where he was on the ground before looking up at the other guard, "You really find something enticing enough in that man to cheat on your girlfriend?" he questioned dully.

The guard simply ignored him and walked away, making his way toward the other side of the common area where the rest of the lot was congregating on the couches by the door to the courtyard. Sabriel watched him go, then turned his head and looked at Dr. Gate with a coy smile, "Looks like it's just you and me now, love~"



Meanwhile, in the entertainment space of the common area, Casey finally shifted to sit up as ne watched Donovan, finding him only somewhat more entertaining than listening to Pine mention plants being better than humans for the umpteenth time. Don't get it wrong, Casey cared about Pine as much as ne did any of the Hounds, which was actually quite a bit. Ne made a lot of effort a lot of the time trying to get everyone hanging out and talking together, after all, they were supposed to be a team, right? But even Casey had to admit that, despite how much ne and Pine had in common when it came to their individual relationships with the human race...Pine could get really old really fast. It wasn't him per se...just...his repetitiveness?

Ne listened to Donovan explain to Bezaliel that the Uncrustables were not meat and nodded in affirmation to his mention of there being one with honey, "Yeah," ne said, "There's a PB n' honey one, n' then there's those fucked up reduced-sugar ones on wheat. What they should give us are Lunchables! Then Bez could have some meat n' cheese! Though let's all be honest, the pizza ones are the best, seconded only by the nacho ones. The cracker ones are mostly jus' good as a nostalgic snack."



And so the time went, everyone conversing and debating on the topic of best snacks and other foods from various brands and just in general. It wasn't long before the smaller guard returned with the snack cart stacked with chips, cookies, pretzels, and of course, Uncrustables in both strawberry and hazelnut. Drinks on the cart included milk of various flavors as well as different kinds of juice and bottles of water. The time passed by until the golden rays of the sun began peeking in through the lattice roofing of the courtyard, streaming in through the patio door and filling the mock living room of the common space in a crossed pattern across the rug and furniture. Eventually, the larger guard turned on the projector, which was connected to a television and cable box in the galley, and switched on the morning news. Everything was more or less normal on the report, with simple stories about pet adoptions, crafts and recipes, coffee shops dedicated to workers with Down Syndrome, and, of course, the weather.

By the time the first run of the news was coming to a close, it was just about eight in the morning, and finally, finally the main doors to the unit opened as in came the morning crew. Two new guards for the day, a couple of nurses carrying binders containing medications, and a nutrition worker wheeling in the meal cart, stacked with styrofoam boxes, each marked with a name. However, there was one addition to the small fleet of personnel.

Agent Roy Vega. Project Supervisor.

The shorter man walked with a certain level of importance, head held high and hands clasped behind his back. He nodded toward one of the day guards as they were heading into the galley, and a few moments after they disappeared, the projector faded off, leaving the screen blank and white and the room silent aside from scattered chatter. He made his way around the room, nodding to those he approached and wishing everyone a good morning, before asking each Hound to join him by the couches.



Sabriel had long since pulled himself off the floor again and taken to sitting at the dining table while he played a game of solitaire where he was obviously cheating by digging through the cards to find ones he needed to continue. With Roy's request, he reluctantly got up with a roll of his eyes and swept his cards onto the floor as he started over to the seating area. He was stopped though as Rubber walked up to him.

"I am finally having to be solving the puzzle of your own, witchy one," the alien announced, "Depending on the sizing of the cup in question, the number of quarters that which the container is to be of holding is to be ranging anywhere from ten to an exponent of fifteen to the twelfth degree!"

Sabriel stared at the creature, dumbfounded by its stupidity, then just shook his head and brushed by it, "The answer is four, you idiot," he muttered, "There are four quarters of a cup in a full cup. It's the unit of measure, dumbass. Fock, I don't even use the imperial system and that much is obvious to me!"

Rubber stared after the man, holding up its hands again and counting on its webbed fingers in confusion, "It is being of a unit of measure...?" it mumbled, head tilting to the side.



Still sitting on the couch, Casey closed up nir journal and shoved it between the cushions as ne turned nir attention to Roy, curling up in the corner of the couch with nir cloven-hooved feet pulled up, knees hugged to nir chest, "Sup Royboy!" ne called, "What brings ya t'Casa de Hounds so early?"

Roy gave nem a wave and smiled, "I have an important announcement to make," he replied, "Hence why I'd like to bring everyone together."

"We goin' t'Disneyland 'r somethin'?" Casey asked jokingly.

"Something like that," Roy returned, a playful light flashing in his eyes.

"I call first seat on the Matterhorn!" Casey laughed.

Roy laughed along and gave the hybrid a questioning look, "You'll get soaked," he pointed out.

Casey's ears perked and nir crest lifted into a fanning slope on top of nir head, "I love getting soaked!" ne responded, "Tha's the whole point'a the Matterhorn n'ways! Y'don't go on a water ride 'specting t'stay dry!"

"I supposed that's a good point," Roy chuckled, then looked around to see how much of the crew had joined so far.

As the conversation surrounding amusement parks and beaches and what all took off, Roy watched over the group, waiting patiently for everyone to be together. Sometimes it was rather difficult working with such a large team, but nevertheless, Roy was happy to have a team at all, even with how ramshackle they all could be. It was refreshing, in a way, how often their individual personalities clashed. It made for the perfect spread to represent his project. The very program he led. The very program of which this chaotic cluster of once-villains embodied.

He found himself thinking back to his meeting with Agent Bell. How the man had dismissed his arguments regarding the Grey Scale so adamantly. With so much variety, it was hard not to believe in the validity of Malcolm Grey's writing. Here they had a total of ten individual villains, once thought to be irredeemable criminals, now sharing the same space with each other, cracking jokes and making witty quips as they waited for his announcement. They had come a long way already, even with their past failures, and Roy had faith in them yet.

It was all he really had in his life, after all...

Harper was the last to join the group, dragged out of their room by the same guard who had gone off after them following their retaliation on Sabriel earlier. The same guard with which Sabriel had spent much of the morning flirting. The same guard who had a clear stick up his ass compared to the other guard. Or maybe Sabriel's observations were more on point than the two guards let on?

Harper stomped along across the common area, the guard not far behind them. Stopping, Harper turned on the guard and stared him down, sneering. The man held up his hands in a gesture of defense and backed off without a word, turning to go join the rest of the staff as the morning duties were handled. Once free of the guard, Harper whipped back around and stared down the group scattered around the seating area, white gaze flicking over each member of the team before they looked to Roy. The agent offered them a kind wave before signing a good morning greeting to them. They rolled their eyes, giving a huff, then signed a greeting in return before striding over and flopping heavily down beside Sabriel and crossing their arms their chest.

Smiling still, Roy looked over the group one more time, "Once again, I'd like to say good morning everyone," he said cheerily, "It's good to see you all. I know I've been absent for a while now, and I apologize. I had some business to see to out of state and only just got back yesterday. I trust you've all been well?"

Sabriel was the first to scoff at the man's obviously rhetorical question, "If you call getting yelled at and pushed around whilst a certain someone ran amok through the halls in a senseless attempt at escape, well, then sure. I've been bloody well peachy."

The words were cold and pointed, laced with a tone that was almost a snarl as the white-haired man sneered. He looked off, away from Roy and away from Dr. Gate in particular. Much as he played it off as not caring about everything that had happened surrounding the doctor over the past few weeks. Much as he kept up his flirtatious guise. He was still upset with the woman, and found himself wishing she had never come back from her brief period of isolation from the group, or better yet. He wished she had just escaped like a normal person when she had the chance.

The whole event had been, an outrageously wild spectacle. A spectacle that apparently had led to mass destruction of much of the compound outside their unit and what Sabriel could only imagine was more than a few injuries, if not full out deaths. Yet all that was witnessed by those still in the 'Doghouse' as the staff called it-- Dehumanizing in Sabriel's opinion --was a droning alarm, wild chatter on the guards' radios, and the absolute panic attack a certain angel. That, and the incessant demands of one certain day guard who seemed to have an issue with each and every one of the 'Hounds' for no reason other than their status as 'past' criminals. How he hated that term. Hounds. At least the media referred to them as 'renegades'. That was far better than Hounds.

After everything though. All the chaos. All the destruction. All the possible casualties. She was still among them. Dr. Gate was still there, and it bugged Sabriel to no end knowing that not only was she still there, but she was back Back on unit. Back in the Doghouse. Back in his space.

What bugged him more, however, was the knowledge that before all the chaos. Before everything. He would have been happy she was still there. Happy she was in the same space as him once more. At times, he felt like that happiness was still there. Something had to fuel his flirting after all. Yet as much as he clung to that speck of dying emotion, that care-free don't give a crap view on life in general, it just wasn't enough to make up for all the aggravation he felt instead. And that was what made him truly bitter. Truly sicken by all of it.

While Sabriel was lost in his sulking, Harper glanced at the man beside him as the incident from about a week prior was brought up, then turned their gaze to Roy and raised their hand.

Roy looked to them and nodded, "Yes, Mx. Willard?" he prompted.

Harper rolled their eyes at the formal title and moved their arms to have one sticking out with a fist, while the other formed a C, which they moved in a circular motion to tap the fisted hand, before pulling the C into the finger sign for the letter H-- their sign name, essentially telling the man to just call them Harper. With that, they sighed, shook their head, and gave a dismissive wave before bringing their hand up with their fingers outstretched and thumb folded in to tap their index finger to their chin with the rest of their fingers facing out. They followed this by pressing their thumb and fingers together and moving the index finger of their other hand around the 'closed mouth' shape of their first hand, before finally spelling out 'Gate' as a name.

Roy watched them carefully through their signing, and when they were done, he spoke carefully, "You're asking if we're going to talk about Dr. Gate, yes?" he asked.

Harper nodded and shifted to bring their legs up on the couch so they could sit lotus style, hands resting on their knees. Like everyone else in that room, Harper was no stranger to the incident that had taken place about a week before. Unlike Sabriel, however, they were less sour about all the chaos, and more just annoyed that there seemed to be no serious repercussions for the whole ordeal. They knew far more about the event than any of the other Hounds, having witnessed it fully through the camera system. Though...they weren't about to reveal that they had access to that. Still, there was no denying that Dr. Gate's little spree had been absolutely catastrophic for more than just a handful of individuals. It rubbed them the wrong way, to see Dr. Gate go off on such a destructive frenzy, only to be let off the hook just like that, when they themself had to deal with talk after talk just for lashing out now and then. If they didn't know any better, they would assume that Roy and the rest of the higher ups were trying to pretend the whole thing never happened. Worse yet, they would think that Dr. Gate was getting special treatment.

As they simmered quietly, Harper listened to Roy's cop-out answer to their question. The man simply smiled and shifted where he stood as her said, "No, Dr. Gate will not be the topic of our conversation today. We've already dealt with all we can regarding recent events, and while I know it may not be pleasing to some, in favor of keeping the program on track, it has been decided that Dr. Gate will be remaining among us, with a few revisions to her procedure, at the very least. Dr. Gate is already well aware of the actions being taken in response to her recent excursion, and I feel it is outside the concern of anyone else here what the actions entail."

"So in other words," it was Casey who butt in then, "Whacher sayin' is, y'all'er jus' gonna sweep it all under the rug n' pretend it never happened."

Out of everyone, Casey surely had the most reason to be upset with Dr. Gate. Yet, ne was a little more forgiving than others, which was truly remarkable considering Dr. Gate's antics prior to her separation from the main group had nearly gotten nem killed. Ne wasn't upset about the fact that Dr. Gate's rampage was being wiped off the table. No. Casey was more fixated on the fact that, whenever lives got tossed around here, it seemed like everyone was quick to look the other way.

Roy frowned at nem, not an angry from, but more of a stern expression than he'd held before, "Not quite, Mx. Von Braun, but, as I said, this is not the focus of our meeting today."

"Then what in Hell's name is it!" Sabriel groaned and Roy immediately diverted his attention to the man as he continued, "I swear you're worse than a bloody strip tease!"

Always with the crass remark, Roy thought with an inward sigh and resisted the urge to shake his head as he pulled his attention away from Sabriel to look back over the rest of the group.

The rising commotion was concerning, but Roy just straightened his posture and lifted his hand to show a letter containing the signature of Agent Bell and a few others, "We've made it past our probation period!" he announced, "As of today, you all will be seeing some pleasant changes. You can expect more freedom in your regiment from here on out, so long as you keep out of trouble, and best of all, throughout the day, you all will be meeting with a member of the legal team who will be going over the return of any approved personal items you may have had with you, or which you have requested otherwise. In addition to this, you all can expect to begin receiving payment for your services with the DNCC!"

Sabriel stared at Roy dully, as though the man had just told them he finally had a bowel movement after three days of being backed up. The so-called announcement felt, to him, like the most useless information that had ever come out of the man's mouth. So they got to have their clothes back. Big whoop. Who even cared? Scrubs or civis, they were still prisoners, as much as Roy tried to tell them otherwise. They were still Hounds. The only thing that truly caught his attention was the last bit. Being paid. Frankly, he hadn't expected to even get a paycheck at all, but the fact that they were now, and hadn't before rubbed him the wrong way.

"You mean to tell me we haven't been getting paid up 'til now?" he questioned, purposely wording it to start something. If it hadn't been voiced, it might have been overlooked, and the whole meeting would have been for nothing but telling them they could wear shoes now. Now that it was out there. Now that the seed was planted, it was sure to take root, and Sabriel knew that at least someonewould take the bait and turn this little drop of information into a whole ordeal.