Caine was gruff, stoic, and his values were as straight as an arrow. No matter the tease or quip you'd throw at him, he'd answer you with a clipped, disgruntled tone, as if he had something better to do than watch over criminals. Of course he didn't. This was his job. Still, it was laughable how he marched down the corridors of the prison with an air of blank-faced dignity, as if being a free man was somehow better than getting free food, free housing, and free...uh, friends. These days you'd been prone to try and prod a reaction out of him. Any reaction, really. Anger, a laugh...a blush, perhaps. Never worked, but it was a way to pass the time, you supposed.

Still, it didn't go unnoticed how you'd always be let into the cafeteria slightly earlier than everyone else, and be given a teensy bit more leeway with how much time you took to line up for head counts.

"Why do I do this? Because I feel an obligation to protect the people. From you." Caine leaned back on the wall across from your cell, crossing his arms with a scoff.