Sunday Morning - Breakfast

Sloan was still a bit tired, but she managed to get to the front of breakfast line before any of the other inmates. She ignored the scoffs from some of the women behind her, annoyed that she had taken their usual spot in the line. The food they served was well prepared and surprisingly good, but Sloan didn't see a reason to become hostile over it, especially when everyone would be served eventually. Perhaps because fish tasted the same to her at every temperature, she never cared where she was in the line. It was just mere coincidence that today, Sloan was first.

A goblin wearing a hair net walked up behind the cafeteria serving table and picked up two sealed aluminum cans with a small cat on it. Sloan took the cans and studied the writing, as she always did, just to make sure it was the right kind of fish. "Move it, Tuna breath! I could have eaten twice already with how long you've been standing there!" An ogre woman grunted directly from behind Sloan. The green slob was close enough to get an eyeful of claws, but not today... Not today. Licking her lips and twitching her ears, Sloan slowly turned around to face the towering ball of filth. They made direct eye contact, neither of them backing down. Sloan mumbled several incoherent words, a language unknown to those outside of her coven. As she spoke, The ogre's tough exterior began to crumble not long before she was screaming at the top of her lungs and falling to her knees, pulling at her hair as if there were something hiding in it. Sloan lowered her gaze to look at the woman on the floor, her expression unmoved. The Ogre scratched at it's green skin, begging someone to make it stop. The guards stood in the place around the cafeteria and ignored the mad creature on the floor, no blood was spilled and whatever Sloan had done would wear off in time; They knew that.

With her two cans of food stacked on her plate, she stepped over the crying ogre and sat at a table in the corner farthest from the line. It was dark and quiet, just the way she liked it. Normally she would sit with the other Witches, but none of the tables had filled up yet and she wasn't going to wait on anyone. Smiling, she traced a circle along the rim of the can with her middle claw and peeled the top off. Her tail waved happily behind her as she stabbed at her food with a spork and shoveled the fish into her mouth. It would have been easier to just turn into a cat and eat, but Sloan enjoyed doing things like a human.

It was another day in this strange place, where those with jaws of blood come and feast. Criminals of the supernatural beasts that were but mere myth's to humans. Did they think they same as humans? Feel? Who knows....? Zexel was one of the many to get in line pretty early, but unlike fellow prisoners, the tall hybrid did not show any signs of irritation. Simply because she felt none, and if she did, what would be the proper way to show it? To wail and flail like a child who had their toy taken away? The hybrid was unsure... but was contented to simply reading her book. Carrying two, one of her own and one that she had rented from the library. A book on the supernatural creatures.

Her knowledge of these creatures was slightly lacking in her mind, and she had spent time taking the opportunity to study them. It gave her something to do.

Once it was finally her turn, her blue eyes flicked up to the goblin before flicking away to stare at her tray. Silent. Though the goblin didn't seem to care as she gave a nice big juicy steak to the prisoner. With a slow nod, as if to show gratitude, Zexel picked a table to sit at. She had no destination, but she preferred sitting as far away from the others as possible.

Not wishing for any real attention. She was already considered a bit odd, and now people seemed to react more violently on it. Zexel didn't really understand why or what they felt to make them cause it.. it was simply strange to her.

"Alright bring her in!"

"Yeah bring her in and sit her down!"

"Fuckin' werewolf bitch!"

"Fuckin' slag!"

The harsh, brutish yells and biting insults of the snarling, crooked prison guards were followed by the most auspicious of sounds, the sinister rattling of chains, shackles and manacles binding her hands and feet as the tall, muscular, crimson haired woman was escorted into the mess hall by her detail, glaring every viciously with her yellow, predatory eyes towards each and every one of the women she came into contact with in the room, coming into contact with their fucking pretentious sneers and insulting jeers towards her, not to mention the crossbow-brandishing guards hovering around her, keeping their vigilant gaze upon this one dangerous individual, taking their sweet chances to join the women in their scoffing of this bound werewolf. Thank the Goddess she was bound and chained, otherwise....whoever was in charge of cleaning crew....would have one hell of a mess to clean up afterwards. Snarling under her breath, sharp, ivory daggers grit in her fiery mouth in such paroxysm, such anger burning with Hellfire through her pulsing veins, the woman could only grimace at one of her demeaning chains, that being the long silver chain she was pulled by, latched to the steel ring embedded in the black collar on her neck, a nice little gift from those slag witches to make sure this puppy played nice with the rest of the inmates.

If anyone could tell by looks of this prisoner, they could certainly say without a doubt this werewolf being dragged into the cafeteria was hatred incarnate. Everything about her screamed violence, screamed "keep the fuck away from me, if you know what's good for you." Her skin, a dark shade of tan, despite never seeing the sun for however long she's been a guest of the iron bar hotel, however long her consecutive sentence issued by the judge was meant to....well now that she thought about it, she had about two or three years left....before well...it happened, and in those years before, she had quite the collection of ink marring her outer appearance, crude images and scrawlings of hateful messages, disdain for the Goddess for her cruel misgivings the human retards call Justice, misanthropic preachings, sinister paint upon the canvas of a scorned werewolf. By the time Ericka made it into the lunchroom, the guards surrounded her, lifting their crossbows in a defensive maneuver, or mostly a fearful reaction to this brutal woman, while one of their own hesitantly approached with a silver key in his hand. Merely, the werewolf woman stood still, that same biting glare affixed to her hellish eyes as she watched the last of her bindings be unlocked and carefully removed by the guards, rubbing her sore wrists and cracking her knuckles before being moved to a table, forced to sit by some fucking cat bitch who already reeked of dead fish....and maybe that wasn't the meal she was eating either.

"Now sit down!" The guard barked, Ericka merely giving a silent fuck you as she took her seat, across the table from the neko dining gingerly, basically doing nothing to catch the ire of the werewolf, yet still becoming a victim of the woman's disdainful stares. "Since you sliced that poor mermaid's throat, the Warden says you lost your eating privileges for eight weeks. Tch! Guess solitary wasn't enough for a flea bitten bitch such as you." Oh....how deeply she desired to just stand up and rip that fucking bastard's heart out...and feast on it.... Like it would make a difference anyways if they shot her, put down the big bad wolf.... They were going to anyway someday... But for now, Ericka would just let it slip, letting those dickhead guards amble away without as much as a scratch on their sorry asses. Better they were far off anyways, so as not to see her slip from under her bandana a slightly bent cigarette and a match she managed to smuggle from the supply room on one of her little maintenance jobs. Striking the match against the table, she took a drag of the cig, blowing a thick haze of irritating smoke without a care into the neko's face. "Gotta have some joy, right kitty kitty?" Cynically Ericka grumbled, taking another slow burning drag of her smoke, yet another puff of smoke exhaled in the general direction. "How the fuck do you eat that shit? Guess you're used to it,though. Hmph! I bet you eat alot of fish, don'tcha, slag?" Her glare kept upon the hungry neko, Ericka decided to grab one of the cans of tuna, sniffing of it for a while. "My my...that certainly smells good, don't it pussycat?" before coldly tossing the rank fish aside.

Ell shifted from hoof to hoof eagerly. The breakfast line always seemed to move far too slowly, especially since her snack stockpile was starting to get sparse. Then again, most things seemed to go far too slowly to suit her taste. The more she thought of it, the more anxious it made her. If she were free right now, this would be about the time the express deliveries would be starting. She mumbled a few choice obscenities under her breath and began to jog in place.

“Hey pony, quit with the fucking clippity-clippity! Isssss to early for your ssssshit,” a naga hissed behind her. A few other prisoners also shot her dirty looks as well. Ell considered rearing up and conveniently slipping backwards to conveniently crush the naga... Conveniently. Bucking all over the place with fists blazing was another option, but the punishment wouldn't be worth the trouble. (She had hear rumors of centaurs having their human parts hacked to pieces when they got in trouble so that their horse halves could be shipped off to make glue, and she certainly didn't want to find out whether that was true or not.)

Besides, wasting energy on a cranky old snake was below her. She flicked her ears back but otherwise paid her no mind. It was her time to grab her food anyways, so she snatched up a heaping tray of various greenery (the taste was awful, but most of her digestive tract was that of a horse so she didn't have much choice) and made a spectacle of prancing around, making a racket like a pompous showpony.

“Sssssuck it bitches! Hahaha! Heh...”

After she had her fun, she made her way over to a table that was otherwise unoccupied. She didn't sit however and plunked her tray down with little regard for her food. A little bit of lettuce flew off, but it didn't phase her and she began to shovel it in by the sporkfull while standing, hunching over as far as her torsos would let her. A can clattered in the distance which caught her attention, but she decided not to get involved. She was doing her best to avoid solitary, after all.

Aellotte was later than she usually was to the food hall. If the queue is too large, she gets the overwhelming urge to steal from girls who already have food. Every morning is a battle to resists this nature long enough to get served. Just yesterday, she tried to steal food from a minotaur, and the wardens stepped in before either of them got hurt. A lot of inmates had been scratched and clawed by Aelotte in the few months she had been here. Spending every day resisting the behavior that got her into this prison in the first place, that was both the punishment and the treatment.

She took her place in the queue, looking straight down. If she were to look up, it would be only to look at the food selections available. They had steak. That is what she would be having. They had tinned fish, but that wasn't a large enough portion for her. How many more people were in front of her? Three. Now it was two. Hurry up!

She stole a glance at the rest of the cafateria. She could see every plate there, with food she didn't have to wait for. She could just go, and take it. She was so hungry...but she'd start a fight again. She was lucky last time. The wardens stepped in. The time before that they stepped in a mere second before her wing was going to be broken. The other party's face took weeks to heal, and she still has talon-shaped claw marks on her face. A few of the inmates had seen she was looking at them, and glared or shook their heads.

"Hey, bird brain! Food!"

Aelotte turned round. It was her turn in the queue. She blushed, and pointed at the steak, before taking it, and a glass of water, and sitting at the first free seat she could find. Without looking at whoever else was sitting at her table, she ripped into the steak with unrelenting hunger and no manners whatsoever. The steak that actually got in her mouth and not all over the table was gone on a matter of seconds. She sipped at the water, to wash it down, and to cleanse her mouth.

Prison slop, how appetizing. Clare thought to herself as she entered the cafeteria. As she did so , she noticed her short bed hair standing up in places.
Well, shit. Not like she had any reason to look prim and proper here , out of all places.She joined the long line at her own pace. She was in no hurry to get to the rest of her day. As she waited in line her thoughts drifted pack to more pleasant days, days where she lived quite comfortably.

"Now sit down"
The guard's harsh voice stopped Clare's train of thoughts in its tracks. She looked in the direction of the sound and noticed that it came from over a table in the corner.She recognized the people at the table as Sloan from her cell and the other was Erika, one of the troublemakers around here.She noticed how Ericka taunted Sloan, along with the rest of the rowdy individuals in the room and she sighed.Why was everyone here so damn violent?Then again, this was prison after all.Clare felt slightly frustrated.She deserved better.. In her eyes , what she had done was nothing wrong.

Dipshit! You gonna dream all day? said the person behind her.

Clare murmured a half-hearted apology before leaving the line.
She then searched for an empty table.To her empty tables were the best; no company, no drama.Having found an empty table, she sat down and prodded at her food with a spoon.Her food was all vegetarian-soggy bread and an over sized serving of salad.Clare wasn't vegetarian, but since she couldn't be sure about the type of meat they served, she played it safe by taking only vegetarian food.

As she ate her food, she thought of her powers and how they had been reduced to almost nothing. All she could do was change the form of her hand at most.No one knew what her powers did and Clare intended to keep it that way for as long as she could.

One of the less menacing guards was chaperoning a girl with a very fragile appearance through the cacophony of wails, laughter and a variety of non-human sounds, otherwise referred to as the mess hall. As she walked (or rather, skipped) along the tables, she did her best not to look around too much. Partially because more than a few of her fellow inmates terrified her to no end, but also because she'd noticed that eye-contact could often lead to beatings, or worse, which were to be avoided at all cost.

She did, however, manage to catch a few sightings. A gnome putting some bugs into her neighbour's pasta. A couple of trolls in the middle of a heavy philosophic argument. A faun, staring right at her just a bit too creepily. Melusine upped her step, having completely forgotten about the guard that was supposed to chaperone her.

Her attention went to a particularly loud table, not too far from her, from which a can was thrown, and which had stopped rolling right before her feet. Mel had seen everything, and being as friendly as she considered herself to be, she decided to lend a helping hand. She picked up the can, not even paying attention to the pictures that were on it (for once), and made her way to the hostile table. She stopped right before it, and held the can out to the kitty. She felt the urge to pet it, but refrained to do so, since petting had gotten her into trouble more than once in the past.

With a big, contented yawn and a wide stretch of her tiny little arms, Tiela appeared from the top of the tissue box that she had been using as her home since soon after her arrival at Axx Drk prison.

She had been assigned a bed, a full, human sized bed but she left that ridiculous administrative oversight to her larger cellmates. Everything she needed was contained within her tissue box, it was like a cell within a cell where she was able to decorate as she pleased. Said decorations were mostly discarded items, rubbish to most. Her job as a cleaner allowed her to stash much of the litter from around the prison, her bed was torn up magazine papers and she used an empty chip packet like a sleeping bag. She had even decorated her walls with 'posters' that in truth were simple candy wrappers glued to the wall with the sticky sugar left on their inner surface. It was pathetic, really, but it was hers, a little haven within this hole of a place where she had spent eight of her fourteen short months of life.

The box was situated on the sill of a small, square window set high into the dark, stone walls. It let little light in due to the special needs of one of Tiela's cellmates, but from right beside it, Tiela was bathed in the sun's light and greeted it bitterly, lamenting the pane of glass that separated her from its warmth.
Feeling the pangs of hunger, as she almost always did upon waking, Tiela flitted out of the box and spiralled her way down the tall cell and out of the door.

Her late rise was a benefit of her small size, it had many downsides given the brutality that the other inmates could display at times but, while they were all getting knocked out of bed at some ungodly hour, Tiela was too small and insignificant to be noticed. Either that, or nobody was game to stick their hand into an enclosed area with a pint sized murder machine. A wise decision given the time she had shredded a guard's finger down to the bone above his second knuckle.

Rubbing thick layers of golden sleep dust from her eyes, Tiela fluttered down the hallway at about eye level to reach the cafeteria. She hated being given food as they did here, being fed. Despite her size, Tiela was a vicious hunter, a predator who liked her food to be breathing as she tore into it, not given to her in some sanitary form so distanced from the creature it came from as to be unrecogniseable as meat at all. She satisfied this predatory instinct whenever possible, hunting and killing mice, rats and moths whenever she spied one, the windowsill on which her tissue box sat was littered with at least three rodent skeletons.

She gazed around the cafeteria as she entered, fluttering at the entrance. Being late, the area was filling fast and the line for the food was already large enough to be a nuisance, well, to people who actually had to wait in line that was.

Suddenly, Tiela heard a ruckus from behind her and turned to see an especially big one of the 'big people' being marched in, bound in chains and seething with rage.

She darted to the side and gave the werewolf a wide birth before fluttering promptly over to the food as if afraid she would consume it all, reaching it just after a centaur left with a pile of greens and zipping in straight infront of a particularly mean looking naga woman.
With a dastardly look on her face, Tiela fluttered down onto the food and proceeded to patter her tiny little feet all over several breakfast items in a devilish little whirling dance.
"Get ou' o 'ere, bug!!" roared the goblin serving the meals while the naga merely stared in stunned disgust.

The goblin swiped at the fairy but she easily darted away, nabbing a cube of raw steak as she fluttered up to a stone brick jutting out of the wall well out of reach and giggled as her tiny teeth became needle sharp fangs and she began ripping into the bloody flesh which, to her at least, was about the size of a beachball.

From her high vantage point, she watched, surveying the cafeteria anew as she observed every sight, sound and action within. She saw secret little deals taking place, gauged who was strong and who was weak, recognised the tension of the guards surrounding Ericka and the way she tormented the feline creature beside her and all the while, her silence prevailed and her devious little mind ticked and tocked away.

There was just one problem with sharing a cell with a vampire, and that was the lack of sunlight to designate the start of a new day. Granted, Selwyn wasn't a fan of having sunlight pointed directly in her face first thing in the morning, but it would be nice to be woken up via the star of false hope of freedom that is the sun every now and then. But such a thing, the lack of sun, was more a personal preference, and as of yet Selwyn had had little reason to put in for a cell change. Up to now she had gotten along well enough with her cellmates. It helped that she and the vampire were practically cut from the same cloth. Except that Selwyn was one who feasted on a different sort of bodily fluid than blood.

It was not with a yawn or a stretch that Selwyn awoke in her bed in the right corner of the cell, just above the empty bed that would have housed their third cellmate, had said cellmate not been rather tiny and confined to a tissue box of her own choosing up on the windowsill. This was Selwyn's corner, she had made it her own. On the stone walls next to her were etchings of numerals, not counting down days but numbers of import known only to the succubus herself. Above the bed, hanging from the overhead ceiling, was a hanging candelabra. It took quite a bit of convincing to get such an ornate fixture as that put in, but one thing Selwyn was good at was using her body, or at least offering to, to get around certain rules and regulations. She was pretty sure the warden fired the guard that allowed Selwyn to replace the stock torches and candles on the wall with a golden hanging candelabra complete with colored flames, but he was an idiot anyway.

The lower bed was a housing facility for random trinkets and gifts the succubus had received over the years of her incarceration, gifts from fellow inmates, gifts from obsessed and weak minded guards, gifts from visitors, all of them just placed on the bed and on the floor around it. Fools who thought that giving her gifts would give them access to her for a little solitary confinement. The flowers she had been given were wilted and scattered about the floor, while the jewels and handmade accessories were just placed wherever on the bed. Literally tossed there. All that she was missing was gold, but only fools kept their gold out in plain sight.

Selwyn slid off of her bed and landed gracefully on the stone floor. As usual she was barefoot, but she barely noticed anymore. Was the floor cold? Hot? She didn't know, nor did she care. Her eyes briefly passed over the windowsill. "Caught another one," Selwyn muttered, spotting the third rodent skeleton. Selwyn wrestled with the notion of waking the third member of their little slice of paradise, but decided against it.

Selwyn made the trip towards the cafeteria with a look of utter boredom on her usually expressive face. Fall into the same routine for long enough and it loses its luster. Arriving in the cafeteria, Selwyn didn't wait in line. Since day one, Selwyn had never once stood in line for meals. Or for much of anything. Lines were for the foolish. Her first stop was at a table that had a pair of cyclopes, dumb things those were. She sauntered over, trailing her fingers along the tabletop before sliding inbetween the two of them.

"My my, all this food and you are both already so big and so...strong," she accentuated her point by running her fingers over the arms of the one eyed beasts, hiding the disgust behind a smile - there was more flab on them than muscle, years of nonactivity will do that. "Surely you would not mind if I, who is all skin and bones and in dire need to maintain a figure, help myself to just a bit of your extra meal, yes?" The cyclopes looked at each other and shrugged, but before they could answer yes or no, Selwyn had taken a plate of breakfast meat from one of them and had left to find her next source of food.

"Must you be so vulgar so early, you brutish hussy?" Selwyn spat out as she stepped past a table housing Ericka. Honestly, I am a sucucbus and even I do not so blatantly make such remarks. Then again, I guess it is hard to be subtle when you have about as much class and intelligence as a rodent. Ah, but never mind that, I shall take that." After saying her remarks to Ericka, Selwyn grabbed the outstretched can of fish for herself and placed it on her tray. The cat was too slow on the draw.

Selwyn continued her walk through the cafeteria, sidestepping a certain centaur. "You do know that food is enjoyed when you savor it, yes? It is a spork, not a shovel." She said to the horse in passing before turning her eyes to a nearly empty table. Nearly empty, since the only occupant was the human girl. Selwyn took a seat across from her, setting her tray of meat and fish can down with a soft thud. "Dreadful, is it not? The food, I mean." Selwyn spoke to the girl while cutting her meat with silverware. "But we cannot rightly expect high class dining. Sad as it is."

Selwyn took a bite from her meat, shuddering slightly as it went down. She still hadn't gotten used to the food.

Clare flinched almost involuntarily when the woman took a seat across her. Her days in the prison had taught her to be wary of anyone and everyone, so she eyed her for a minute. The succubus didn't seem as aggressive as the werewolf, Clare noticed, but she kept her guard up anyway. Clare knew better than to believe outer appearances. Even the tiniest, most timid looking person here bore fangs, quite literally.

She nodded in agreement to how dreadful the food was but said nothing. Talking was one of the many ways of getting in trouble around here and Clare, who still had her hopes up on an early release, wanted none of it.

Even if she didn't end getting released early, Clare still wanted to avoid trouble. She always did - unless she was provoked. She noticed the succubus shuddering as she swallowed and the action reminded her of her own experience of eating meat in the prison. She still knew exactly how the meat tasted: cold , horrible and arrested just a few days before it went stale. Suppressing the memory of the repugnant meat, she took a spoonful of her vegetables. As she did so, she felt slightly grateful for the cafeteria putting out a vegetarian menu. At least this way, when she ate a carrot she could be sure it was an actual carrot and not some third grade genetically-modified substitute; but then again with this prison, you could never be too sure.

Rose lay in her cell, staring up at the ceiling. To her knowledge, both of her cellmates had already evacuated the room for breakfast, so she had the place to herself to prepare herself for the day. She used the light from her cellmate’s candelabra to glance at her appearance in the dirty mirror… passable, but she’d love to have some deep red lipstick. Although there wasn’t much she could do without cosmetics, she didn’t mean to rush the little bit of pampering time she had to herself. She splashed some cold water on her face, more for show, since her body didn’t produce any oils to make her face in need of a wash. Dipping her hand in the water once more, she brushed her long, raven hair and shook it for added body. Languidly, she sauntered down the hall and into the cafeteria, reminding herself to see if the Succubus might be able to procure some lipstick for her. It would likely take a little convincing, however, and she would probably need to find something the Succubus needed that she couldn’t manipulate out of others. Food for thought.
Going to the café was pointless, as she knew her food wouldn’t be ready yet. The Warden procured human blood, likely from donations for her fresh every few days. She could eat human food, but it didn’t digest in her stomach so if she ingested it, she would have to purge it later. Since everyone here knew what she was, there was little point in trying to conceal her true nature, so she didn’t bother touching any of the bland looking food.
Mostly, she went to the cafeteria to make everyone else uncomfortable. She could go sit with the horse who was possibly easy to provoke, or the domesticated animal table (a dog and a cat sitting together, who would have thought?) however she chose the timid looking human and Selwyn. Now is as good of a time as any to get to know her cellmate, her true cellmate since the other pretty much lives in a tissue box and leaves us “surprises” to clean up. Hopefully one of the gnomes sits on her soon and we’re rid of her.
“Selwyn, are you playing with our food again?” Rose purred, looking to see the expression on the human’s face. It’s not that she really had anything against her, she smelled great, but she enjoyed watching people squirm. Rose took a seat next to the human, and began watching her, making a great show of licking her fangs. Maybe prison life will be better than she had originally thought.

The morning seemed to be a bit lively as always. With the werewolf Erika causing trouble, a centaur, a fairu flitting up, a human, a sucubus, and others taking seats. Most trying to sit on their own, while others simply wished to bother others. Erika seemed to always want to bother someone. Be it out of boredom, or her instinctive will to dominate. Books say werewolves we're in general tempermental and vicious. Except when it was the pack kind. They seemed to mellow out with close kin, though of course such a thing doesn't really happen in this place.

There was no companionship, no loyality or honor.

All that was received was wary eyes and threatening snarls. Each of these prisoners were here for a reason. And they must suffer the consequence.

Zexel was used to being alone, to her it was no different from a human school. If one was not interesting or pretty, others left the outsiders alone. Even supernatural creatures were the same. One would call it humam nature, but in this case she supposed it applied to all.

Eating silently, uncaring how the steak seemed to just slither down her throat, her eyes continued studying the book with the supernatural species profiles. Only mildly listening to what was around her, in case someone tried to take her food. Though she didn't eat too much. Her tall frame was quite skinny enough to see her ribs.

Eating didn't seem to have too much of a point anymore. Of course the guards would force food in her if she didn't eat enough. Interesting experience.

Sloan could smell the dog's dingy coat before it even sat down in front of her. Insult after insult when all she was trying to do was enjoy her fish, but no... Dogs fiend for attention, and since this one had no master it seemed to lash out at others quite often. She inhaled deeply and held it for several seconds in an attempt to calm herself before she did something regrettable to wind up in The Warden's office. Not to mention she absolutely loathed the smell of cigarettes, and didn't understand how any animal could pollute their bodies with it; it literally smelled a hundred times worse with her sensitive nose. Sloan finished her last bite of fish before speaking, one of her rather white canines visible over her lower lip. She was seething inside, one second away from gouging this woman's eyes out. You don't mess with someone's food in prison, but she knew Ericka... Ericka was a low down dirty dog, the bottom of the barrel just like that miserable ogre, who, by the way was just now recovering from her jinx.

Sloan hissed and extended her claws as her can of tuna rolled across the floor. She didn't chase it, that would be too low for someone like her. Leaning across the table towards Ericka, her pearly white canines showed from the slight opening between her lips. "You disgusting little flea bag, howling because someone forgot to put out your food bowl today? It must suck having to wag your tail like a good puppy for these guards so they don't kill you. Pathetic." She grinned at the werewolf before her, her once human eyes shifting into those of a cold predator. Fighting with Ericka was not a concern of hers, the brute did have strength and pretty much every advantage on her, but Sloan was small and agile, with very fast reflexes. Naturally, dogs were much slower than cats...and dumber, so she had no worries.

A woman with long, ice blue hair approached with her second can of tuna, but Sloan kept her eyes glued to the barbarian sitting across from her. Another approached, the succubus known only as a leech to the neko, but this time instead of sucking up, she was bickering with Ericka. Sloan didn't pay either of those two any mind. She extended her arm off to the side to take her fish, which was rightfully hers! It was cat food for crying out loud, but that skank, who was definitely not a cat, had taken her food. Sloan hissed once more just in general, yet directed it at the mutt.

Meowing ravenously, Sloan leaped on top of the table and stood on top of Erika's shoulders, her quick feline eyes scanning the cafeteria for Selwyn. It was no longer than a second before her eyes locked on the succubus, that she was pushing off of Ericka's broad shoulders and landing on Selwyn's table, and scrunching her breakfast underneath her toes. "I'll take this back, you ugly hag!" She hissed at the woman, yanking her can of fresh cat food up. Sloan left no time for response, she was still one of the fastest people in the prison, even with the lid on her abilities. Speed, reflexes, those were all things you couldn't take away from a natural born killer like a cat, and she would love to see any of these creatures top her.

The neko somersaulted backwards and landed two table's back. What Ericka and Selwyn did after she was finished with them was of no concern to her, they could eat each other's fists for all she cared. Sloan stepped back and smoothly landed on the cafeteria seat at the table, grumbling about slags and fleas. Folding her arms, she sat down on the cafeteria bench and began eating her can of tuna. She had taken several sporkful's before noticing her cellmate sitting across the table. Good, someone I can trust not to slit my throat in the night.

"Good morning, Aelotte. Excuse the dog smell, I just had a run in with a pack of wolves. You'd think someone would have tamed them by now." Sloan said with a sigh.

Aelotte had been watching the whole thing. Glad that she herself had not started an incident today, she was still concerned for her cellmate. She took another sip of water, glancing over Sloan's shoulder to see how the Werewolf and the Succubus were reacting. They were both two people Aelotte had the sense to not get on the wrong side of. She spoke up in a quiet voice which wasn't used to being loud, and didn't want to get heard by anyone but Sloan anayway.

"They'll remember that. That was probably a bad idea."

Aelotte and Sloan were not friends. They were friendly enough with each other. They occasionally talked. But Aelotte was not an easy person to be friends with. 'Introverted' didn't even cut it. The Harpy actually had a reputation as quite a violent inmate, due to how often she starts fights and hurts people, but that's due to her being a nervous kleptomaniac who lashes out when scared. She's the last person in the whole prison you'd expect to act genuinely nasty. She hated confrontation, and was once again showing her nerves, as someone who had just ticked off two very dangerous people was sitting right next to her. If they came over here, Aelotte would get involved whether she wanted to or not.

Clare raised an inquiring eyebrow when she heard what the succubus' acquaintance had to say. Food? Was that her? Clare thought as she looked at the vampire.
Ugh, Clare thought to herself.It's one of those.
Clare shifted her seat further away from the new person at the table, making no attempt to conceal her disgust. She then noticed her licking her fangs. Was that supposed to be intimidating? Clare wondered to herself before continuing with her meal. She ignored the vampire as she did so and it wasn't particularly hard, with all the commotion around her. Before Clare could respond, Sloan was at their table, to claim what was rightfully hers.Damn, she thought to herself.
That's one fast cat.

Seeing that she had finished most of her food, Clare picked up the half bread piece that was left and got up.

"Here's where I take my leave, freaks"

She thought to herself as she shoved the bread in her mouth.No one here really had table manners so Clare allowed herself slips in etiquette every now and then.

Stepping out of the room , she ran through her mental to do list to see what needed doing next.

"Must you be so vulgar so early, you brutish hussy?"

At the sound of Selwyn's easily recognizable and downright ear cringing voice, Ericka's more human ears perked up a little bit, her eyebrows furrowing into a painful and bitter expression of her vicious loathing for the Li'l Hell Fairy as she called the Slutubus, barely giving any reply to her other than a lifting of her middle finger and a flicking of discarded cigarette ashes on the scruffy fur of the neko across from her. "Fuck off, rug muncher!" She merely gave as word to Selwyn, not really giving one single shit as the notoriously seductive bitch decided to make off with one of the neko's precious cans of tuna, Ericka just assuming that it was just an acquired taste of the woman...along with this cat. For fuck sakes, they were all diving into the salty muffs of these scraggly women. What else was there to do for a thrill in old Axxx Drk Correctional, besides deliver a nice, sharp stiletto switchblade into their jugular of some poor, unsuspecting cunt, which for the ferocious beast of a woman that was this muscular werewolf....that was pretty much been there done that. That was pretty much reason one why she wasn't allowed to eat anything for eight weeks straight....but when was Ericka ever one to follow blindly the rules of mortals.

Taking another drag off her cig, her burning yellow eyes soon turned to the hissy fitting of the neko Sloan, leaning across the table, thinking she was so cool...so sly for standing up to Ericka, who at this point was only three inches....or barely that....away from instantly snapping little kitty's neck like a fucking birch twig, but honestly saw no effort in it if all the bitch was gonna do was run her mouth at the infuriated and apathetic werewolf, ignoring every little slip of the girl's ragged tongue and just inhaling more toxic smoke into her lungs, surprisingly not blackened for as much as she smoked. "Awww...is little kitty pissed because someone didn't cut the shit outta her fur this morning?" With an insulting smirk crossing her full lips did the woman ravish that small, but potent comment, not really expecting the reaction to be the fucking furball hocker leaping onto her broad, meaty shoulders, practically digging those damn claws of hers into Ericka before bouncing away after Selwyn, off to reclaim her fish the slag cat couldn't live without oh boo fucking hoo! With a grunt, Ericka wiped away the small plits of blood from her shoulder, snuffing out her cigarette on the table and standing firm as she cracked her knuckles and popped the rest of the bones in her neck, gritting her canines and the rest of her honed, ivory daggers, glinting with retribution deep in the mind....but for later.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ericka spotted her cellmate, that bookworm Zexel, typical of her to be reading every damn hour of the day. Storming over to the woman's table, the werewolf plopped down, throwing both her boots onto the table and grabbing up Zexel's steak without a single word, chomping into the half cooked meat as she snarled...mouth full and without a shred of courtesy, "Gettin' tired of these motherfuckers, Zexel. Gonna need another cig before I stab that little kitty cunt and that fur licking Hell Fairy..."

It wasn't too long until Zexel sensed someone come closer, and of course it was her cellmate Erika. The Warden thought that it would mellow werewolves a bit to be with their own kind. But of course, Zexel was still a half breed and Erika didn't seem interested in being mellow. Of course, the full werewolf took her steak. The hybrid didn't make any motion to move nor any expression in caring. Probably was more of a favor, just meant she didn't have to eat.

As her cellmate spoke, Zexel glanced at her briefly to show she acknowledged her before glancing back away. Blue wolfish ears appearing and they twitched as she listened to the words. Slowly turning the page of her book. Although it would appear Zexel was daring to ignore Erika, she was listening. The hybrid didn't ever actually ignore those who spoke to her and could recite off what they spoke to her with ease.

She simply had a hard time expressing herself. She was unsure how to exactly to respond to her cellmate's obvious irritation with the other prisoners. In a way, sge understood both sides. Erika was being a bit loud and upfront, but Zexel did slightly understand not being able to not talk to people. It may seem selfish, but to be honest, who deep down didn't enjoy a little attention?

Some people just went about it in obtaining it differently.

She never understood why Erika smoke, since the stuff smells bad and was way worth with noses like werewolves. Zexel admitted, the smell was a bit sickening, but it didn't bother her too much since her breath smelled like brimstone.

Taking a moment to think, the half breed took a moment to put down her book and reach into her pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. She was quite good at scrounging what was useful and it wasn't unusual when someone drops something. It wasn't stealing if it was already lost. It didn't seem sentimental, so she took it. Taking one out, she lightly blew the end so embers sparked and lit it up before silently holding it out for the fellow werewolf. Only glancing at her briefly again.

Sloan rolled her eyes at Aelotte. "No, I'll remember that." She took another mouthful of tuna and peered over a bit, glaring at Ericka as she walked over to Zexel's table. "Stupid mutt." Clearly this bird didn't know what she was talking about, because the bad idea, was messing with a Witch. If those two kept it up, they might find themselves choking on their tongues next, or maybe death by poison. The possibilities were endless, it would take some time, some plotting, but Sloan could make it happen if she wanted. For now, she just wanted to enjoy her breakfast.

"Try not to look so anxious, they're not going to do anything and if they do, we can take them." Sloan smirked, her claws extending again as she spoke. "Easy."

---

A guard wearing a black witch's hat stepped in front of Clare, "Back to breakfast inmate. You know the rules." She said, taking the shifter by the shoulders and turning her back toward the cafeteria entrance. They couldn't risk people leaving for breakfast and plotting. They had to be on guard at all times, and the inmates were after all, prisoners. Breakfast time was not a time to roam the castle. It was mandatory.

"Hwoarghe," Ell spat through a mouthful of grain at the snarky succubus. It always bothered her if she couldn't have the last word, though she was fairly certain nobody else had heard her weak comeback thankfully.

Truth be told, eating was easily one of her least favorite things to do besides sleeping. It was such a slow, boring process. You can only eat so fast before you end up choking yourself, you know? She tended to use the time for reflecting on the joys of prison life, but today she hardly wanted to think at all.

Due to the suspicious disappearance of her lone cellmate, she had received the news on the way to breakfast that she was being relocated to another cell. This wouldn't have bugged her much, but the new cell also came with... A new job. She tried to protest as hard as she could against the change, but, if anything, her protest pissed the authorities off even more and she ended up stuck with mechanical maintenance. Not only was she clumsy with her hands, but the move indoors during working hours severely cut into her exercise and secret free snacking routines. She knew deep in her gut that it wouldn't end well, and her legs were already aching for a run. She hoped that her new roommates could tolerate a lot of pacing and fidgeting.

So deep in her gut that it causes her to get rather nauseous. She dropped the spork onto the remainder of her food and sighed deeply, not knowing quite what to do next. There was no leaving the cafeteria during eating times which left her with the option of either wallowing in self-pity, socializing despite her rather off mood or eavesdropping.

The latter seemed the most appealing.

In the distance Ell could see guards ushering what appeared to be a run-of-the-mill human girl back into the cafeteria. She looked a bit on the surly side, even for a prisoner. She was out, at least for now.

Another table offered the companionship of a couple of werewolves, one with her nose buried in a book and the other ranting ferociously about something. They didn't seem to be the best conversational candidates either, particularly the one exhibiting some common characteristics of rabies.

Eventually she noticed a table where a cat, a harpy and what appeared to be some sort of nymph perhaps. Remembering that the guard who had brought the news or relocation to her mumbling something about a cat and harpy being 2 of her new cellmates, it seemed like too convenient a coincidence to see the two together like that. She sauntered over to them, all 7 feet of her towering above the table and casting a shadow of doom over the little critters. Leaning forward and slapping her hands down on the table, (as if they needed more hint of her presence) she gave them both a once over.

“Ah, I don't suppose one or the other of you got a new cellmate this morning, did you? 'Cause if you did, I'm Ell.

If you didn't, I'm still Ell either way.”

And I like to break the ice with terribly unfunny jokes, she added mentally.

Glancing briefly over to the outstretched hand, clutching yet another cigarette offered for her partaking, Ericka just merely gave a snort, clenching the lit cig between her two harsh fingers and giving a curt nod to Zexel, "Thanks mate." before taking a drag off of it, vigilant, glaring eyes still upon the rest of the inmates flocking and squawking about the mess hall as if a bunch of agitated hens fidgeting about their nasty, feather ridden coop. Even if many in here haven't done much to gain the woman's ire, they were all befallen by the scrutinizing and oft disdainful glances of the werewolf, first snarling fire through her nostrils upon seeing that damn neko again, still the desire ever present to wrench her up by her tail and beat her within an inch of her life, next to that haughty and vain succubus, how Ericka wished she could get the slag alone in one of the many dark and dingy, dimly lit corridors of this infernal bloodsoaked hellhole, just her, the bitch Selwyn,and one of those rusty little knives from the kitchen...pretty much all she could manage with thanks to that damn collar the Warden slapped on her, but the prison morgue would still have a field day trying to identify the mess of gore Ericka would make out of that Hell Fairy. Finally, and as ever, her eyes fell back to the muted bookworm that was her cellmate, quietly glowering boredly to her fellow werewolf...even if she was a mixed breed and not a proud full-blood like Ericka, but hey....at least she wasn't a tactless human or....a filthy vampire.

"You gonna talk, or you gonna just sit there like a twit and read those fucking books all day?" She never understood why her cellmate was never one for words...not that she really gave a damn if the mutt wanted to talk or not, but what she couldn't grasp either is why someone would just waste every day of their life reading books, especially when there was alot more fun to be had within these sullen walls of cold stone and barbed wire, other than just staring blankly at words printed on paper. Then again...thank a more primitive and loveless upbringing for Ericka....being uneducated. Reading? How would that help her any? Could reading tear flesh from bone with razor sharp claws and vicious gouging teeth? Could reading move with lightning speed and pounce upon an unsuspecting victim, be it a human or anything else? No...so frankly it was absolutely useless to a werewolf to be educated so modestly, same went for religious indoctrination....but that was something else.

"Hmph..." Merely a shrug of her shoulders given to her cellmate, Ericka took another drag off the cig, turning her attention back to the cafeteria, a sigh of agitation released with a thick issuing of smoke from her lungs. "You know something, mutt? One day....before they drag me off.....I'm gonna kill everyone in this damn room. That may or may not include you. Depends on if you're smart. Heh....which I guess you are, reading all those books and whatnot. Doesn't really make a damn to me..."