“Hey, get it straight, we’re not wearin’ jackets meant to restrain just ‘dangerous criminals’, they’re for—let’s call us troubled souls. Shows what someone thinks of us.”
Kaoru looms in from the hallway connecting to the other rooms, just barely passing the threshold. Seems like he’s finally decided to pitch in his thoughts after listening for a while.
“Yer all assumin’ a lotta shit, aren’tcha? I don’t think it’s the cops that brought us here, so I don’t think ‘crime’s’ th’ name of the game. All we know for sure’s we all pissed off the wrong people, we’re gonna be playin’ by their standards. They might think killin’ the wrong person and bein’ in the wrong place’s just as bad as each other fer all we know.”
He raises his sleeve, swinging it from side to side.
“‘sides, don’t you think it’s interesting they put in all this work with the custom digs and they didn’t even actually tie us up? It’s got th’ buckles and all, they prolly could. If they were ever gonna, they must not think there’s anythin’ worth protectin’ from us here yet.”
“I think half it’s just puttin’ us down, tellin’ us what they think of us, showin’ us they can do whatever they want to us. Annoyin’ shit. You keep callin’ these jail cells but it feels like a damn zoo t’ me, making a spectacle of us with these fuckin’ costumes.”
He looks to the sisters, who he’d seen before but hadn’t interacted with. He thinks they’re the most egregious display of ego on their captor’s part for sure. He glares up at the panopticon for a moment, bouncing his leg and stooping his head as he looks away, back down the hall.
