Rayna froze, the confidence from the adrenaline wearing off as there was a moment before she noticed the man laughing. He was laughing hysterically, at her. She felt her face grow bright red. She didn't think she seemed that ridiculous, but of now she felt completely out of her league. She had always thought she was the type of woman who could handle herself, but considering she'd been in Arkham twenty minutes and had already been attacked and laughed at, that might not be the case.<br/><br/>At least the Irish man was listening. At least, Rayna thought he was. He looked a bit upset at the moment actually, although Rayna had no idea why. She thought she was offering a fair deal. She hears his thick accent when he says 'How do I know that yer not just messing with me?', and bites her lip, wondering if she chose the wrong guy. She had picked him because he stood up to two men, without looking at her like she was a piece of meat. The absence of gang memorabilia on his person was a plus as well.<br/><br/>"Well, I'm a reporter. With the<span style="font-style: italic">Times</span>." She explained, "I have some friends in the justice system, I'm sure I can pull a couple of strings if you help me with a story I'm writing." He moves as she's talking, and Rayna stiffens, but otherwise doesn't move. She sees his eyes flick to the knife, and the accompanying annoyed grimace. Maybe the knife's throwing him off. She lowers it to her side, wishing she had a better place to put it. Sticking it down the waistband of her slacks does not seem appealing.<br/><br/>'Let's start with our names-" Perhaps she should have started with her name, it makes sense he would be skeptical now, since she was a strange woman in a prison.  "I'm Rayna."