[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#38547C]Keaton Plasse[/color][/h3][hr]
With the arrival of food came Keaton’s appetite, which she thought she’d lost earlier that morning. Given that she’d only ordered soup, though, she stuck with that, trying a dish here and there as she watched the others curiously. Across from her, Lynn scarfed down everything she got her hands on, stuffing her face like her life depended on it. She had a fast metabolism—really fast. Power-driven fast. Whether or not her life actually depended on it was uncertain, but Keaton figured it’d be more pleasant to burn through energy when there was more of it.

On the opposite side of the spectrum of food enjoyment was Natalie, who quite literally choked up on her food, eyes glistening as she proclaimed her delight. Keaton’s brows went up, and she flashed Archie an amused look, taking a piece of the fried dough he pushed her way. Somehow, the person with a tendency to turn into a lizardman was the second most normal person here. Eating with them was making Keaton feel spoiled, and she knew spoiled well enough to know that she wasn’t. That these three had harder childhoods than her was obvious, but it was only now becoming clear exactly how much harder they had it. So far, she ranked highest on the happy childhood scale, with Archie coming second. Then came Natalie, who seemed to have a normal personality under all the baggage she carried. Something haunted her, some event that left her with hollow eyes while threatening to overshadow everything else in her life. Last on this list came Lynn, who was so jumpy that Keaton was pretty sure some thinly-veiled eye contact could set her off. Lynn was the one who’d lived a life of hardship rather than being recently subjected to it, and it showed, as sad as that was. In their company, Keaton was both glad to have a decent well of happy memories to draw from and envious of the immediate kinship they shared by virtue of the tragic events in their lives. Here on the ship she was realizing she might never leave, she could do with a few people to relate to.

Mid-bite into a wonton, Keaton heard the door burst open behind her, and seeing both Archie and Lynn freeze prompted her to turn around. It took her all of two seconds to place the woman dressed in scrubs, her half-eaten wonton slipping off her spoon and back into her bowl of soup with a plop as icy fear shot through her. Salamandra, the leader of the Fire Worms, the woman who’d been the face of crime in L.A. for as long as Keaton could remember and the woman who’d been arrested and put away over five years ago, was walking into the restaurant without a care in the world. She’d been imprisoned instead of killed, and on The Promise of all places? That she wasn’t dead was shocking enough, and Keaton couldn’t even begin to fathom why she was on this ship. There was no rehabilitation to be done with someone with Salamandra’s track record, no reason why anyone like her would be allowed on the ship if The Promise stood for what it purported it did. But, then again, Keaton had already learned that the ship was a hoax of what it promised. Zero deaths? Boarding criminals like Salamandra guaranteed otherwise.

A scream from outside drew Keaton’s attention to the window, and she watched, frozen, as the skull-headed beast of a man outside reveled in his kill. Fear kept her in place as Salamandra drew her attention again, and it wasn’t until Archie ran past that Keaton finally managed to put a thought together again. He was dead. Salamandra just told him to stay put, but then she seemed to change her mind, telling everyone to get out. And she meant it. She was actually letting them out, actually letting them live, so—

Lynn’s voice interrupted Keaton’s surprise, and Keaton watched in horrified awe as the girl started talking to Salamandra, who’d literally just let them off the hook. And she was bartering with the woman, to enlist her help of all things. Lynn wasn’t crazy, but Keaton could’ve sworn she was, power be damned. Did Lynn think some tattoos and big statements would make a difference? Maybe it would. Maybe Salamandra would be interested. But that guaranteed nothing. Or did it?

Attempting to calm herself, Keaton glanced out the window again. The killer outside wasn’t someone she could reason with, wasn’t someone anyone could reason with. Maybe he bowed to power, maybe he didn’t. Whatever the case, Keaton was dead if she caught his attention. She wasn’t dead with Salamandra, though, so maybe, in some twisted sort of way, Lynn had the right idea in trying to reason it out with Salamandra. Not because aligning herself with the past gang leader was a good idea, because it wasn’t. If Salamandra had been imprisoned aboard The Promise for the last five years, there was a good chance that she’d tried and failed to escape before, which meant that the people running this place were capable of defeating her. Five years was a long time, after all, and if she was going to break out this time, she’d need a lot more than the musclehead outside. In fact, was Salamandra even breaking out? No—no she wasn’t. She was—what was she doing? Testing the limits? Irritating her captors? Whatever the case, it still stood that Keaton had a better chance staying put and talking as they waited for the guards to show up. It was too late for Lynn to retract her statements, and it was too late for Keaton to try and tell her that Salamandra wasn't pulling the jailbreak card. For now, they were waiting on Salamandra's response.

With that in mind, Keaton straightened, meeting Salamandra’s eyes with what she hoped was resolve. Of course Keaton was still scared, but considering Salamandra's ego, she might be offended if someone wasn’t, so that was fine. Everything was fine as long as it kept Salamandra’s interest, kept her distracted and talking instead of killing.