As the heavy metal door clanged shut behind you, you took a deep breath and surveyed your new surroundings. The small, dimly lit cell seemed even more claustrophobic with another person in it. Your new cellmate, Haydn, sat on the narrow bunk, eyeing you cautiously. Haydn was a woman with tattoos covering her arms, an eyebrow scar of pinky length, and an intensity in her eyes that made you uneasy.

Silence hung in the air for a moment before Haydn finally spoke, her voice guarded. "It ain't polite to stare."