<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/23/59/1f/23591fbefaf396b58d40bc5c2094225c.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Neena Thurman | Domino<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Her own room<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 8th, late night/early morning<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Remy LeBeau | Gambit, OPEN<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Handling the door<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>pajamas (http://images.motorcycle-usa.com/photogallerys/2013-Thor-Motocross-Womens-Short-Pajamas.jpg)<br/><hr/><br/>There wasn't a whole lot too the room. Seeing as Neena had been there for all of 24 hours, and she had come from prison to boot, she didn't have a whole lot of worldly possessions. The only thing she had were the few bits of clothes she had had in her backpack when she was captured. No family photos, and completely bare walls. And now, Domino had the pleasure of having a man in her room, looking over her scantily-clad form.<br/><br/>Lucky her,<br/><br/>Her gaze flickered to the deck of cards which had seemingly appeared by magic into his hand, before that ice blue gaze shifted back to his face. The question about herself was shrugged off. She wasn't a fan of talking about her past. Dare she make it up? Doubtful it would work. If he was a teacher, he had probably read st least a bit of her file, and would be able to pick up on a lie.<br/><br/><strong>"Well..."</strong>She began, her left hand lifting, fingers lightly trailing through long brown locks which teased over her pert breast.<strong>"I came here from Rikers....government experiment gone bad, and all that. Didn't grow up with parents, just lessons. Guess you could say I'm one of the few mutants that earned a jail sentence."</strong>a shoulder rolled in the form of a non-committal shrug. She didn't really seem like talking about herself. Especially with the memory of her dream so fresh.