Heads bobbled with each bump the road offered the dingy bus. Thankfully, Deimos had been seated towards the back, giving him the vantage point of observing all the other inmates occupying those worn leather seats. Towards the front was a young man, the way the guards scowled at him meant some thing to Deimos- this one had done some thing particularly abhorrent to the men. Abhorrent to the average American man, a good old boy- the rape, molestation or murder of a child, the rape, molestation or murder of a person of authority. He could only assume that enough rapists passed through the prison, some could even sit on the bus now, so woman-raping man would be nothing to give extra attention to.<br/><br/>He scoured his memory, it finally dawning on him who he was- King, "brutal murderer of a well-respected detective." Deimos delved into the potential prospects of this man. On one hand, he had killed a man who had sent many of these men to prison, for that the some inmates could be pleased with his "work." On the other hand, he had killed a man of authority, this would, no doubt illicit some negative attention from guards. And the final characteristic to tip the scales- he was a pretty boy.<em>Keep away,</em>Deimos judged the young man. For now, he would avoid the man at all costs, unless the scales tipped favourably.<br/><br/>There was an Asian man rolling his shoulders, cracking his neck as they filed out of the bus...<em>Tense,</em>Deimos marked him with that word. A dark haired scruffy man, that olive skin paired with his dark features was a sure fire sign of Latino blood. His shoulder was bandaged, a wound, too strange a place for a knife wound, too small for an accident with no other signs of bruising or other injuries, perfect for a shoddy shot. His eyes were wild, he'd grown up a dog on the streets, he would probably be a trouble-maker and he was attractive and rugged enough to make others want to tame him.<em>Gang...</em>he assumed,<em>Watch him.</em>Another Asian man, another pretty boy who seemed considerably calm, though a bit annoyed and some what curious. Deimos himself was tiny in comparison to the others on the bus, of course, he could also assume he was the youngest. He presumed he would be seemingly out of place in the prison as he was in the bus.<br/><br/>When finally they filed in line, Deimos kept quiet, but did now lower his head, his eyes seeming some what dazed as he listened, looking out among the prisoners who, in return, whistled at the meal of fresh meat presented before them. The wardens were white, they looked like the good old boys and Deimos guessed they wouldn't be particularly interested in him- he was small, incapable and fucked given the situation. Ah, well, maybe his record was a little tarnished, but he was sure they'd hosted plenty of murderers. He was nothing, other than a rat in the midst of hungry snakes. Fortunately enough for Deimos, rats had been known to chew the heads of snakes, a brutal fight for survival that Deimos could handle if need be.<br/><br/>When it came time to strip, Deimos wasn't bothered, even bending over and taking a few fingers up the arse didn't phase him. He kept his mouth shut and eyes blank. Having that ice-cold pressurized stream of water sting his skin didn't even result in a peep, he instead clenched his jaw, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. After dressing, he waited to be assigned a cell. He amused himself by placing bets on who would survive and who wouldn't. As far as he was concerned, none of them would climb to the top, but out of all of them, he placed his bets on one of the Asians- Sunny making it most comfortably, well, other than himself, of course.