Sep 8, 2015
"You're pretty good. Guards treating you well in here?"
Lifting her head up she casts a cool gaze at the heavily scarred man. Her sharp as razor hearing picked up his footsteps from a distance, only deigning to look when being addressed to: as she always had.
Quiet remained laying on the bench, the straps of her bikini top unravelled and hanging by the sides, fully exposing her back to the sun. The radio continued to play Rick Astley.
Apart from suspicious glances, constant check ups on what she was doing inside the cage, and the occasional grumble they let her be. It suited her just fine.
She gives a curt nod.
