"Dex," Enigma greeted, not looking up from the paper she was drawing. Fear had rushed through her the first moment she realized who was entering her cell (only one man she knew of smelled that badly of plastic and in the clean, recycled air of her holding cell, it was a stand out scent...though it did wash away the pizza and beer smell from the guard who brought her lunch.
She put a final touch on the hem of her father's suit pant, before raising her brown eyes up to look at the killer, giving him a wide, charming grin. "I had been expecting you sooner after your little song and dance," she stated, folding the drawing in half. "Trying to figure out the best way to arrange our date, or did you forget all about little ol' me?"
She gave him a pout at that, sitting back on her bed.