[b]Floyd - Cell - Lauren[/b]

The stench returned as Floyd re-entered the fastened cell. The quiet also sprouted as he took a seat of helplessness. After facing off undead fiends he was forced back into captivity so the next day he could fight again. As stated before, he felt like a gladiator during the roman empire. There was no way out, the halls were empty, only guards stood post. His sight was pointless at this moment because everything seemed black. He wasn't in search of entertainment, he wasn't looking for something to take his anger up on, but freedom. All he wanted was to once again feel the fresh and peaceful air. 

Floyd had never been an inside kind of guy. He's lived all his life in the fields, cruising through sunrise till dawn through the peaceful hollows. But when one's freedom is stripped of them, like that of the slaves back in the 1800's - one does not conform to such a change, instead, one revolts. If he could upraise a rebellion on his own, against the force that locks him in such environment, then he'd do it without a second thought. But the situation didn't allow such actions to be taken. He was helpless. 

As he stared into the ground, laying against the cell's rusted wall, a tray of food landed before him. He noticed a hand had placed it there, so turned up to put a face to it. As his eyes adjusted to his motion, he finally noticed the figure that stood before him. Unlike most or all of the raiders, this one was a woman, an exception to the organization or something. Hesitating a little, Floyd chose not to eat in a hurry, he decided to leave the tray there while the woman spoke. He didn't want to seem as if he depended on these people, though in reality, he didn't have a choice. If he didn't eat this food that was provided, he'd eventually die of starvation, disease, or in that damn arena. 

Before the woman left, she decided to tell Floyd how much that golem had enjoyed his 'performance'. She seemed bored for a reason, because she was hesitant to leave, as if she had nothing else to do but speak with a 'prisoner' as she called him. 

"I don't care what you people think of me" Floyd responded in a rasped tone. His throat was dry, so he was having difficulty speaking, but was sure she could hear him. The wound on his leg had also started to bleed once again. This was due to the interaction and excess moving he'd done in the fight with the walkers. "I know what y'all are doin down here - with the women. And I get it. The whole thing is stupid, but I get it. Whoever ya take orders from, I understand what they're tryin to do here, but listen - this whole thing is a delusion. It's impossible to breed an entire world back to life and you now that. So as a woman, why the hell do you let these girls get treated like this?! As ragdolls! As slaves! Soon enough they'll run out of women and they'll f*ck you over next! There aren't good men out here and you know it. There never was. You don't hold that gun around your shoulder because ya wanna distinguish yourself as one of these pirates, you do it cuz ya scared. You think ya protected because you've got a gun don'tcha? Well newsflash lady, they outnumber you twenty to one. You protection ain't worth shit. Look here, if ya think ima beg ya to get me out these cuffs, then you're hella' wrong. I ain't beggin you for shit. All I'm sayin is that you should figure out what side you're really on, because you know damn well this ain't no place for you."