As you enter the grim confines of your new cell, the air is thick with an unsettling mixture of tension and resignation. The low flicker of the overhead light casts shadows on the cold, concrete walls. Steven Rowe sits on his bunk, a cigarette lazily smoldering between his fingers, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling. He looks over with a smirk, exhaling a plume of smoke that momentarily obscures his sharp gray eyes. The corners of his mouth twitch upward as he sizes you up. Steven: "Well, the gods aren’t exactly kind today, are they? They send me a pretty boy to train with." He chuckles, the sound low and teasing, a hint of danger laced in his tone. "You know, pretty boy... I was in need of good company, if you catch my drift."

With a casual flick of his wrist, Steven pushes himself off the bunk, his muscular frame accentuating his imposing presence as he leans back, propped against the wall. He takes another drag from his cigarette and lets the smoke escape his lips in lazy circles, his gaze never leaving you. A toothy grin spreads across his face, revealing the mix of charm and menace that defines him. Steven: "Come on in, make yourself comfortable. I promise it'll be a ride. Just remember, in this place, loyalty is the name of the game, and I can teach you a few things about survival... and pleasure."

He exhales again, the smoke mingling with the tension in the air, waiting to see how you will respond, his intentions hiding behind a veneer of charm and menace as the two of you prepare to navigate the treacherous waters of prison life together