Milo didn't have much to do, but he had one thing a window, a window can provide entertainment from looking out side, to helping smuggle, aiding escape, becoming a weapon, or just working out. Lucky for prison Milo was counting on his stuff coming in so had no need for the rest only the last, so he set to work doing inverted sit-ups.

Griffin growled as the guard shoved down the hall towards his cell. He didn't like having the gun shoved in his back. Especially when he was trying to observing the other prisoners. He wanted to know everything he could about them. The more he know the easier it would be to destroy them.

Kurt laid on his back in his bed, feet hanging of the end of the bed by quite a bit. He tucked his arms behind his head, gazing upward. He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to think of ways to get out. But no, he had to gain the gaurds trust first before he was to try to escape this place.

Jasmine was the last off the bus she sat there defiantly of the gaurds yelling she even goaded them into a fight with her hands and legs cuffed but Jasmine didn't care to move unless she felt like it.She eventually did move of course but it took four gaurds coming over and forcing her off the bus with more then a couple heavy smacks from batons.The four gaurds walked Jasmine upstairs where the other women would be held, she had on a red jump suit and a white tank top under that,the tattoos on her knuckles visible.Her jump suit concealed her muscle mostly,she had a beautiful face but one that clearly said you didn't want to fuck with her.She laughed a bit as the four men tossed her in a cell uncuffing her through the door "what you need four damn gaurds to handle me I'm just a little woman!" She laughed again as they walked away shaking their heads.Jasmine sat down on the bed and took the top of the jumpsuit off unzipping it leaving her in the tank top exposing her muscularly toned upper body but not like body builder level still attractive but not typical of a woman, then again Jasmines not the typical girl.She stood up and pulled at the sink smirking at it budging just a little only a millimeter she knew this would be helpful she just loved to bash people's brains out with pipes.

"Do that again and we will move you to a cell with no sink." The guard threatened. "Next time you don't cooperate we are tranquilizing your ass."

Jasmine chuckled at the guard "you're just one of the little piggies why don't you take off the guns and see if you can do anything then you little pussy ass" she smirked and sat down looking at the door unimpressed these gaurds weren't shit but punks with guns in her mind and she wanted to cause some collateral damage.

The guard shook his head. She had no idea what kind of trouble she was asking for. Not wanting to risk her grabbing the tranquilizer dart, the guard pressed a button on the wall beside him. This button would release a tranquilizing gas that would knock her out until meal time. Maybe she learn from the warning before she ended up in solitary or worse.

Jasmine covered her mouth with the jumpsuit top around her was it and being in the military and a terrorist orginazation she had experience with bio hazards and gases.While she did this it didn't filter the gas entirely and she blacked out her back against the wall after chuckling and swearing.

Jerid woke up as a guard was poking him with a baton. "Hey! Wake up scum!"
Without a word Jerid stood up and slowly walked towards the exit of the bus, ignoring the continuous shoving and prodding to make him hurry up.
Two guards tried to drag him while another kept prodding at his back. "Please refrain from applying pressure on my spinal chord, I have narcolepsy and It is-" He dropped to the ground, being caught by two surprised officers. Two more came over and they carried him to his cell, where they dumped him on the bed. "Look at that stupid fucker, grinning in his sleep, won't last a day." Said the one guard to the other as they walked off.

Once the footsteps became less loud Jerid got up, the guards were easy enough to fool he decided.

He was sitting in a rather large cell, on the other side was another bed. In the middle was a single toilet without a seat. And above that a small window. Jerid wondered if this was a two person cell, and what his cellmate would be like.

{sorry, I've been in London for 4 days}

Sydney looked around in the cellblock as they made their way down the hallway of cells on the first floor, she had a few female inmates walking in front of her and behind her but sepereated from them by guards. She didn't mind, she didn't mind anything, not even the foul language used by a few male inmates as they walked passed their cells. It was worst than the language she as a young child would have gotten beaten for.
Sydney rolled her eyes at a man reaching through the iron bars, the front wall of the cell was made of, in an attempt of touching the girls walking past him. He was in his late twenties and his tanned skin was covered in all sort of tattoos. So people maybe would have find him scary with his tattoos and cruel smile, but Sydney just found him laughable.

Sydney was soon shoved into a cell on the seconds floor, glad to have gotten rid of the worst sound of the disgusting men downstairs. She was extremely calm as she sat down and leaned against the cold wall in her cell. Not once had she protested, she knew it would do her no good. More protests and more fighting, meant that more attention would be drawn to you, both from other inmates and guards, and if the guards consided you as trouble, they will keep an extra eye on you, which will make it harder to escape.

"Alright boys and girls it is time for lunch. Anyone who does not cooperate will be stunned and left in their cell." The guards announced as they began to lead the prisoners to the dinner room.

Jerid got out of his cell and moved along with the row of other inmates. He said nothing as he calmly inspected his new housemates for life.
With a disgusted look he watched as a large burly inmate with a hairnet splotched a scoop of grub on his plate.

He had been almost first in line so the cafeteria was pretty much empty so far. Jerid picked a table in the middle to the side, from there he had the best view of the room.
He didn't wait and started to reluctantly eat the.. meatloaf?
"Huh.. This is actually pretty good." He said surprised as he quickly started to gulp the rest of the unappealing looking, but apparently decent tasting goop.

Benjamin Boyo Raskille slid quietly down the line with the other prisoners, keeping his head up even if his gaze was directed downwards, keeping his attention on those closest to him even if he wasn't staring directly at them. Quiet as the tomb, face blank, he made his way to an empty seat at an unoccupied table from which he would be able to observe the others and from which nobody could approach without forewarning. Needless to say, he had never done time in such a strange institution before, and for the time being he was content to keep his eyes open and his mouth shut. Boyo knew that for what he had been convicted of, there was no chance of freedom in his future, and the same almost certainly went for the others who sat in the room with him eating the same bland, unidentifiable slop. There was no reason to antagonize or underestimate any of them, not the young, not the women, not the talkative, not a one. If they were there it was because they were capable of being just as low down as they came. Boyo kept his eyes roving over the others, searching for signs of potential danger in their posture, expressions ad body language, as well as hoping to spot tattooing that might let him know about the affiliations of the other prisoners. The plastic spork continued to delve into the semi-solid sludge and shovel it into his mouth, what teeth he had left working at the occasional chunks to render them ready for digestion, and all the while he kept eye-balling the others with the same lack of expression that he almost always wore. It was one of the first things he had learned in prior terms of incarceration, that mask of stoic, total indifference to anything and anyone. To let another see you feel anything but anger or aggression was to give them an insight into the inner workings of your mind, to let them see what you cared about; in other words, it gave them a means to manipulate you, or a way to hurt you, or reason to think that you would make for easy prey. He ate quickly, finishing before any of the others, and placed his tray in the receptacle next to a guard who watched him with open contempt and suspicion. It was as though the guard was hoping Boyo would make an error that would give the guard a excuse to punish him. Benjamin returned the spork to its designated place as well, making a show of doing so slowly and without any sign of trying to slip it out of sight while staring dead into the guard's dark eyes the whole time unblinkingly, wondering if he would look away. The guard did not look away, nor did he blink. Instead he tightened his grip on his baton, his jaw clenching as he did so. A hint of a mirthless smile played across Boyo's lips and Boyo returned to his seat, still quiet, posture erect and uncompromising, moving at a casual pace that suggested neither hostility nor anxiety, and in fact he felt neither. The calm he felt bordered dangerously on boredom. He hoped something would happen soon to alleviate both.

Jasmine woke up grumbling with a groggy curse "oh fuck me..." She sat up and walked out of her cell.Following the other inmates she had her red jumpsuit top off her body leaving her in a white tank top,displaying her tattoos and muscular form.She examined the others closer and while she was sure the guards thought her a brute incapable of intelligent planning and scouting she knew she was not.She went ahead looking over the others as she sat down at a table near to the center.She was displaying her US marine corps tattoo on one bicep,which was twisted up in thorns to symbolize her betrayal.Her other arm held her Venom tattoo of the quite well known terrorist organization which she was the second in command of before landing in this shit hole.She had many more tattoos across her upper body a tribal band set visible on her left shoulder to down her shirt which ended at around her left hip.

Jasmine thought to herself looking at everyone she knew they were just as capable as she was but in all different ways,she needed to keep her guard up;not only of the staff but of her fellow inmates as well.She couldn't help but chuckle seeing a good amount of danger and potential if herself and her fellow inmates managed to pull together.Eating what she shrugged off as some kind of food me really caring if it tasted bad or not she knew the importance of some kind of calorie intake to stay at top performance which she would have to be at.

Griffin growled as the guards shoved him towards the dinning room. He wished they would back off. He had made no threatening moves to them or the other inmates. In fact he planned on cooperating with them atleast until he gained the information to destroy the evil within the prison walls. He planned to observe and study the other prisoners. He would learn their strengths and weakness. Griffin found an empty table to seat at. He ignored the food in front of him.

Kurt glared at the guards, his hands clenching and unclenching in annoyance. But he couldn't act on it. His face remained emotion free as he walked into the cafeteria, looking around. He sat down at a table at the back, watching people while eating. In the process he looked around for Twisp, to finish their discussion. He noticed that everyone seemed to be watching everyone, trying to sort each other out.

The wonderful thing about smoking meth was that no matter the state of things in the real world, when you were lit, you weren't in the real world. The people around you could be thieves, whores, murderers, lacking respect worthy qualities, incapable of being trusted, and it didn't amount to a tinker's damn. It was all only as real as a sitcom observed from where Boyo went in his mind when he was high, and where he went, there was nothing he couldn't handle one way or the other. In the end, things changed, things got confused. He wasn't himself, was not quite human in the way he looked at the world he drifted through like a ghost, a phantasm of the man who had let nothing stand between him and who he wanted to be or how he wanted to live. It hadn't been real, but it had been really fun.
The thoughts of crystals cooking in a bowl hit him right between the eyes, and without even realizing it, he began to tap his standard issue slipper on the floor, his perpetual scowl growing deeper, his blue eyes tinged with the blackness of his discontent. He had ceased detoxing, but still the thoughts came, as he was sure they would for a good long while, whether he liked it or not. He looked at the other convicts, his fingers tapping against his side without any distinguishable rhythm. It occurred to him, as he fantasized about the feel of the burn in his lungs after taking a hit, about the smell, the instant shift from zero to a hundred miles an hour, that he was losing his edge in a way that he could not afford to do. He was giving to much away. He was slipping, and if you found yourself slipping often enough, for long enough, you would fall and never get back up.
Benjamin stilled himself, with difficulty. His expression eased up a bit. He berated himself internally for his lapse in vigilance. Anyone could have made a move against him then, and he would have reacted to slow to stay alive. He continued watching the others. He--somehow--contented himself with waiting.
They were an interesting bunch, that much was certain. A few looked like they were N.T.B.F.W. for sure, like the lady marine. She had nearly twenty pounds and a few inches of height on Benjamin Raskille, and a real sour look about her. The others were mostly equally dour, but some were just so damned young! It was very trying not to view them as, well, prey. Some were just asking for it, like the scrawny school girl with the delicate features and the stink of unfamiliarity with being locked up coming off of her in waves. She was seated next to a guy who was rather pudgy, with darting eyes that spoke of either fear, madness, or excitement at the sight of the pretty young thing, seemingly unaware of the slobs eyes playing over her hungrily. Boyo had no time for degenerates. They would either grovel before him, or he would break them. Besides, something was called for to kill the creeping boredom that threatened to make him do something really stupid.
Benjamin made a slow sweep around the cafeteria, moving like he had no purpose, as if he were not trying to get next to the big guy, who was too busy undressing the school girl with his eyes to pick up on the circling of the shark. By the time he was close to enough to reach out and touch the other inmate, the bigger man finally spotted him, but he reacted predictably. As he attempted to stand, Boyo threw a one-two combo of punches into his kidneys, an elbow to the temple, and as the man slumped, Boyo dragged him out of his seat and onto the floor, stomping on the other's head and ribs as quickly and with as much force as he could muster. Guards shouted for him to lay flat on the ground, charging at him from here and there, but he waited for them to start swinging their batons before he stopped, allowing them to see that the blows they landed barely phased him. He'd been beaten enough times to take a beating like a man, and the batons weren't any bigger around then the switches his dad had laid into him with, sometimes until Boyo had passed out from the pain. As they handcuffed him and dragged him out of the cafeteria in a stress position so he couldn't stand upright without hurting himself, he swung his head around and smiled at the girl, winking with an eye that was fast swelling from a good shot the guards had got in.
"See y'all later. I gotta' go have some time to myself." He said, still grinning as they took him away.