Charles
———[I've got nothing else to add, so fin]————

◇ What a lovely day.

□ Despite the overall chill present in the air, spring had been slowly warming up in the south of Sweden. Five degrees here, eight degrees there, and like the madman he was the spike in temperatures was enough for him to dig his spring wardrobe out of storage. Dresses, skirts, button-ups... Pants; anything that fit the spring mold was fine in his books. Strolling out of the prison dormitories, he had no plans in mind aside from bask in the sun on a bench like a stray cat, or perhaps an iguana.

▪︎ And goddamn did he look in his white dress, tights, platforms, and jewelry.

• First, though, came the matter of his vice: *Flick.*
Robert
Hatzume is here too, by the way!
The tall girl was wandering absentmindedly, getting used to the unfamiliar surroundings of Newton's Cradle. She was getting into the swing of things- just about... Not that she knew where anything was, but that didnt matter to her right about now; as if some kind of force was pushing here in the right directions.

Humming under her breath, Hatzume clasped her hands together, taking big steps as her shoes clapped against the floor with the force of her gentle stomps.
She tilted her head over at the boy outside in the dress and such, she felt very much differently dressed right about now, just in a purple plaid skirt and a t shirt- the day wasnt particularly Hot hot, but she's coping just fine.

Internally, she wrestled with herself to go say hi to him- which obviously won her over easily.
And with that, she plodded over, looking down at the stranger with a thoughtless smile
Charles
◆ "Fuck."

□ On instinct, the moment he heard a voice from behind him he flicked the butt of his cigarette deeper into his mouth, and with a forceful chomp separated it from the rest and let the lit end drop beneath his foot. Spitting the remainder out like a Chiclet, he looked up and found himself face to face with a much taller lass, wide-eyed and empty in the skull from first look. Exhaling a faint wisp of smoke through flared nostrils, his face flushed pink for just a moment out of embarrassment and the fear that this chick, whoever she was, would rat him out.

▪︎ Why was he even worried? Well, it seemed Oliver handled detentions, and he did *Not* Want to be on the old man's bad side. He'd heard hushed rumours; best not to find out.

◆ "How's it goin'?"
Robert
Hatzume was surprisingly smart.. Or at least, she could tell what he was doing, and raised a brow as he swallowed the part of the cigarette.
Sure she had had a couple 'experiences', if you will- but that was kinda gross to her, she wasnt sure whether to bring it up, or filter herself out, considering she doesn't know this guy.

"Uhh, it's going!"
She smiled at the man, a bit more genuine than just her ditsy resting face, her hand hoisted the bag she had wrapped around her shoulder into position as it had slipped.

"D'ya work here? I kinda figured you might but I'm not sure, are the teachers allowed to smoke instead of us then? I guess it makes sense but its not a very good habit to have"
...Ramble. All those words yet no actual meaning behind most of them <3, just mindless chattering from an indulgent mind.

"Oh I'm Hatzume by the way, I'm new methinks!"
She didn't seem to notice the fear of getting grassed on- mostly since in her mind, its not something to worry about- because teachers smoking was a pretty normal thing, right? Is he even a teacher? God knows!
Charles
◆ "Yes and no." He plainly replied, his hands awkwardly reaching for pockets that just didn't exist in this dress. There was a reason he was carrying a messenger bag. "I help Ollie around the chemistry lab – cleaning, organizing, receiving shipments of chemicals, safety lessons for those interested in taking up a new hobby, the like – but I'm not exactly an *Employee.* Just another prisoner, ya dig?"

□ Speaking with a feathery accented voice, the words that left his mouth hung apprehensive. Why? Because he'd been spotted out in public with an illicit product, something granted to him by the fake identification in his wallet, and if this lass found it fit she could have him turned inside out by the prison's staff. For now he simply looked up, lazy brown eyes scanning her dark skin and curly hair, a faint twinge of adoration present within and almost surely because of the height difference.

▪︎ After all, he was a short lad, and boy did tall people make him feel safe.

◆ "Hatsume, huh? Neat. Silas, local mad chemist and walking mess." He spoke, a mild note of worry still present. "What'cha in for?"