Diane
"It's a... Bit odd, especially after being arrested, but I suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, as the saying goes." Uriel muses, their tone becoming light and sing-songy. 

They let out an airy laugh as Margo conjures a picture of a bona fide prison in their mind. It was amusing imagining them all as prisoners, especially the younger children— and picturing their friends in orange jumpsuits made their face widen in a delicate smile. 

"You most certainly don't have to worry about having to use your powers to survive— we're not in that kind of prison. Here, you're given aid on how to use and control them to the best of your abilities. " 

Uriel begins to boil some tea with their electric kettle— handy when you didn't want to travel all the way to the kitchen for a nice warm cup— and turns towards Margo as the machine begins to whir. 

"Would you like some tea? Do you need any help with unpacking? I'd feel a bit awkward just watching you without aiding, is all. Especially with your injuries, minor as they are."
Jeannie
◆ "This isn't a gift horse." She'd dismissively shake her head, unzipping another suitcase and beginning to pluck books out of it. "It feels more like a Trojan; sure, it's nice, but... When's the façade end? When I step in the showers?"

□ It made no sense to her despite generally being quick to figure her surroundings out. How could this place have called itself a prison if it was laissez-faire in every visible aspect? Prisons were meant to imprison criminals and the like, yet here was Newton's Cradle, offering such a degree of freedom that it felt more like a court-ordered stint in college. It was so weird, in fact, that she went to reach for her chest pocket, only to realize that she hadn't been able to take any cigarillos with her. Grumbling, she kept on unpacking her suitcase of books, haphazardly dropping them onto her bed as Uriel talked.

▪︎ Needless to say, she needed a way to unwind.

◆ "That's... Weird." Was all she said in reply to her roommate saying that the place she found herself in was more about rehabilitation than punishment. "I already have my powers figured out, so... I guess this is just a place to get away from my past? Guess that's not so bad. Also... What kind are ya making? Might have a cup after I'm done unpacking, which I don't really want any help with. I've got a specific way of arranging my shit and it's easier on both of us if I just... Do it on my own, hm?"
Diane
"Your eye, correct? It's pretty. My eyesight isn't too bad, but it certainly isn't as good as it could be." Uriel says plainly, looking back down at the unique thing. It was strangely beautiful, with the shiny rings circulating around each other. Unique, but not in an unsettling way. 

Or perhaps it would be unsettling, to an average person. Fortunately, none were to be found at the Cradle. 

"Oh, I drink tea made from some medicinal herbs from home, but for guests I have chamomile, earl grey, oolong, and matcha. If you'd like to, I can even add some honey and milk. A cup of tea always helps me settle in, especially when I have jumpy nerves." 

They sat down on the ground, pulling out a half-completed pair of mittens attached to a pair of knitting needles. As they continue talking, Uriel's focus drifts onto the easy in and out of their stitching, the absentminded movement automatic with years of dedicated practice.
Jeannie
◆ "Right? It's... Definitely unique." Mere millimeters of ice had been shaved off the surface, but just with a compliment about Margo's unusual left eye they'd made more progress breaking the ice than they'd ever made. "I was actually born with what the doctors described as a never before seen case of cataracts covering the entire eye, but it disappeared as I grew up a bit, so that was weird. I wonder if it was my eye developing long beyond the womb, hence the six years of slate wool over my left eye...?"

□ She knew what had caused her powers to awaken, but at the same time she didn't know whether they spontaneously appeared and split her eye into the freakish configuration it lay in to this very day, or if it had been developing for years and the sheer terror she felt had pushed the reaction to completion. Whatever the case, her eyes were now capable of feats most people couldn't even comprehend, and in a strange way she was proud of it.

▪︎ Sure, it marked her out as a weirdo, but... She accepted that.

◆ "Alright... Oolong it is. Don't worry about putting anything into it, I like how tea tastes on its own." Still digging her books out, she'd begun to also arrange them, an unspoken system quickly forming in front of Uriel's eyes. An autobiography here, a translation of the Eastern Orthodox Bible there, so on and so forth, neatly arranged like she'd been a librarian in a past life. "Anyways... Do you have any other plans for the room? Because I have some... Ideas. Things that'd liven this place up. If i'm gonna be here for four years I want some comfort, at least, but it might be rude to just... Ignore you and your needs. I dunno."
Diane
It was an interesting theory, and Uriel couldn't help but nod along and make a small hum of interest at her postulating. They've never seen a medical case quite like what she described, so it was reasonable to assume some sort of correlation. 

Uriel looks up from their knitting at Margo's words, putting the needles aside and standing up to add the teabag to her drink. Deft hands take a leaf off of a potted plant's stem, grinding said herb into a fine powder before adding it into their cup. It was a familiar rhythm, one they conducted everyday since they first grew into their powers. The sense of schedule grounded them— there were some things at the Cradle different from home, but their routines weren't one of them. 

"You may do whatever you like with the room, so long as my belongings are left untouched. I don't tend to stay here all too often— I'm usually asleep somewhere around the facility, so don't worry if I'm gone for long periods of time." 

While Uriel had no physical needs to be attended to, there was the important subject of their own peculiarities they'd have to bring up. It would only be a matter of time before Margo witnessed them, and so Uriel figured it wise to give her a heads up.

"Although, if you're going to talk about my needs... I should tell you that I'm a narcoleptic. If I ever randomly pass out, you can just leave me there. Oh, and while I do tend to sleep for half of the day, I'm a very heavy sleeper— you could turn the lights on and dance to music and I wouldn't move an inch. It shouldn't pose too much of an issue for you, besides the real possibility of me falling asleep mid-sentence." Uriel lets out a polite laugh, making their feelings regarding their condition known to Margo.

Margo's cup has turned into a shade of deep brown, and Uriel passes it over with a small smile.

 "And here you are. Do enjoy."