The line of prisoners moved sluggishly around the edge of the cafeteria, like a snake too long exposed to the cold. Ix moved with it, just another segment of serpentine body, nose slits narrowed as much as possible to block out the smell. It wasn't the food, she had eaten far worse. It was the overwhelming cacophony of scents, sweat and pheromones, fear and chemicals. The body musk of dozens of species mixed with stomach turning results, undercut by the ozone tang of the security fields. Together it was an overwhelming stink. So she moved, breathing as shallowly as possible.<br/><br/>Eventually she reached the front of the line. In front of her a large<em>thing</em>, covered in scales and fur picked up a tray, untucking a set of her arms she followed suit. Ix projected a cursory word of gratitude to the cafeteria staff and began to move out of line, when the<em>thing</em>shook itself, like some sort of animal. Dander and oil particles filled the air in front of her, lancing into her sensitive nasal passages and making her sneeze. The very ends of her mouth slits quivered, inky black eyes flashing irritated shades of sickly yellow and faint purple.<br/><br/>It was in her food.<br/><br/>That<em>thing's</em>disgusting flotsam was<em>in her food.</em><br/><br/>She projected a loud growl, followed by a sharp vocalization. "I think you owe me some food."<br/><br/>The hulking inmate turned around, half the contents of it's tray already shoveled into a gaping snout. Beady eyes regarded her coldly, assessing her potential as a threat. "Is that a fact?" The voice that came out of the snout was thick and garbled wetly by the food it hadn't even bothered to swallow before speaking.<br/><br/>"Yes. A fact." The words were quiet, but sharp, punctuated with several loud clicks and another growl. Around them people had stopped to watch, instinctively sensing the impending clash.<br/><br/>Inmates weren't the only one who had developed the ability to see a fight before it happened. Ix's tray clattered to the ground as all four of her arms were yanked down to her side, pain spiking up from heavy rings around her wrists, affectionately referred to as<em>mittens</em>within the establishment. The offending brute had likewise been restrained. She vocalized a sound of disgust, not bothering to test the effectiveness of the restraints, she had already learned it well.<br/><br/>"Come on now, you guys know I hate having to do my job." Officer Haldren was a human, hair gone grey and faced creased with the miles of a hard life. Never a handsome man, his looks had only soured further in the less than nurturing environment his job provided. "You also know that having to do it makes me grumpy."<br/><br/>Another shot of pain stabbed up her arms, but her eyes gleamed cool blue because she knew that the<em>thing</em>was having a much worse time. Haldren smelled of contraband whisky and boot polish, and he was her friend. When the mittens returned to their normal dormant state the other inmate and his stench stormed away after a glare that promised things had been left unfinished. The watchers went back to what they were doing, the snake having never ceased its slow crawl.<br/><br/>Haldren sighed, leaning against the counter and shook his head. "Do you cause problems because you know I'm on duty?"<br/><br/>"Of course not, I behave when I know you're on duty. If you had not been on duty I would have removed that<em>thing's</em>filthy limbs and made it eat them," Ix replied in a quiet way, ringing with an implication of obviousness. Haldren chuckled, shaking his head once again.<br/><br/>"You're giving me grey hairs Ix."<br/><br/>"All your hairs are already grey my friend." The man sobered slightly at being referred to as friend, but only for a fleeting moment.<br/><br/>"Just go sit somewhere in back and stay out of trouble for the rest of my shift, alright?" Ix nodded, not terribly happy to have lost her food but not terribly upset about it either. Her body did not require nutrients at intervals quite as frequent as the prison provided, but being prepared was always good. One never knew when one would be forced to skip a meal.