[When you first see Asch's face, he is mad. Teeth grit, fists clenched, face as red as his hair in rage mad. He's trying to stand straight and intimidating but his shoulders are shaking in anger and, without his sword and hampered by the restraints, he's little more than a furious rooster at the moment.]
[His restraints definitely do show signs of trying to be chiseled off with whatever he could have grabbed upon arrival - chipped bits of flashlight can be seen in the chain - and it's only his failure to do so himself that's prompted him to try this damn device and network for assistance.]
Whoever's sick, twisted, damn idea of a joke this is, you have less than thirty seconds to get this thing off of me before I make sure you wish you were in prison yourself, because I have much better ideas for what to do with you than any of the fonbots in this forsaken pit!