Daniel cut Kris a withering look, all narrowed eyes and tight-knit brow. But Jack swept in to rescue them both before anything got too heated; Daniel swiftly redirected his attention, his mind on a crossbow and the makeshift weapons he might craft in such a place as this. It was difficult to imagine there wasn't at least a golf club or heavy candlestick that might suffice.
"Says a lot for most of you, if that's the case," Daniel said. "I barely got through college without wanting to kill a roommate or two, and none of them tried to rape anyone. That I know of. That you've all stayed relatively civil and sane is pretty impressive." He waved a hand, his knife still loosely held in long fingers. "Anyway. I'll definitely volunteer. Kris here may think I'm unfit, but we'll see what Owen and this little council have to say. My guess is they'll be glad of the help."
He speared another bite of omelet, chewing thoughtfully as he considered his dubious set of "skills." Rabble-rousing was one; advocating was another. How either of these might prove useful in this bizarre prison, he could not have said. He sipped his tea. "I'm not half a bad cook, but you've definitely got me beat," Daniel said. "But I'm resourceful. I'll find a way to help out. In the meantime if you've got any suggestions I'm all ears."