So. On the whole, prison blows. I'll leave the 'what' to your imagination. You're a yappy crowd.


Yeah, that's all I've got.

[paaaaaaaaaaaaause]

Oh. Wait.

Anybody have a harmonica? That'd complete the experience.

I- I've been here for a long time now and I couldn't help but notice...

NOBODY HERE IS A VIRGIN!

Of course Kiosan respects everyone's decision to become an adult, and Kiosan knows that's all personal business... but it's okay to slow down, too!

It's really okay to enjoy life as a kid.

[observe the dazzling scene of a battle royal! Alternatively, a very large bowl filled with water and with two tiny legions of badly folded, written on paper cranes: red on the left, white on the right.

...and they're all sinking, one by one, under Seimei's watchful eye.]

Wonder who'll be last standing...?

[softer, sing-sung]

...once at the shrine... what's there to pray for...


[ooc: last line = loose verses from the pretty creepy popular Japanese 'Chuugoku Lullaby.' orz]

I believe I've let you all go long enough without a word from me! So here we go.~

[Giggles.]

If there was one thing you could change about yourself, what would it be?~

How are you different now that you've been here? Has there been any change? Do you like it? Do you regret it?

[The events of last night are of no concern to this one. He doesn't care that people were probably hurt, and he's glad that part of the prison was destroyed. He's only upset that he missed what may have been interesting to watch.

So instead of dwelling on those events, he's somehow found his way to the butterfly pavillion. There's no particular reason he's here, and he's not doing much of anything except lying there and eyeing the butterflies with a not so friendly expression, and without a distraction from his bordem, it may not be long until he decides they'd make a very nice lunch.]

Inmates old and new:

Have you found Marina Asylum's current criminal detention and rehabilitation program to be effective?

Or somewhat erroneous and obsolete?

Ahhhhh…

[deadpan] Looks like I’m a hot commodity, these days, passed around from one prison to another. Nobody knows how to keep their hands to themselves. [long, long long-suffering sigh]

Least you can do is throw me a bone and give me a water bottle. With a bendy straw. Blue. None of that pink crap. Thanks, sweetheart.