Andrew hadn't expected the cell door to just…open. He almost doubted it was a prison, the way it seemed to have such lackluster security. The panopticon setup proved otherwise. He was no psychology major, but he knew enough about the purpose of this architecture to hasten along.
He skeptically eyed every room he passed, head slightly ducked as he aimlessly wandered into the dining room. Nice to know he wasn't meant to starve. For now, anyway. Andrew turned to the sound of footsteps behind him, a strange woman being the first sign of life he'd directly encountered since leaving his cell. A fellow prisoner, judging from her similarly designed straitjacket.
"…to what do I owe the pleasure?" A slight transatlantic accent peeks through underneath Andrew's dry sarcasm.
