[@Randomness]

A couple of things caught his attention. First, a yelp as he called out; and then, as he moved toward it with low, concerned muttering, another voice. Muffled, but clearly upset. Clearly wanting out.

'...a'ight,' he quietly decided to himself, 'maybe I oughta check things out. They're prolly people like me, right?' "Like him." Immediately, he figured that was wrong. He had some way of working himself, sort of... something that wasn't normal. Right, [i]that[/i] might be why he was here. And, for that reason, he figured he should keep [i]that[/i] to himself until he had to show it off.

But first, the source of the yelp. The door he was pretty sure it came from was open, anyway; stepping to up it, he pushed it open and leaned in, taking a look around the place. It had more stuff in it than where he'd woken up, anyway: dresser, desk, night light, a bookcase, the hell happened with him that meant he didn't have that? Why the fuck didn't he have a bookcase? Whatever motherfucker put him in that prison did him dirty, that was for damn sure! But, clearly there were toys, too, dolls and shit... was this- were there kids in here too? Was that lump under the blanket a [i]little girl?[/i] Shit, he didn't want to be a babysitter for some toddler, and he sure as fuck didn't want to be in some place that kept fuckin' children in jail!

...he had a quick think about what to do next outside of the cell. Clearly, there was some reason he was here. If it was [i]that,[/i] then maybe he wasn't wrong to start with: maybe this kid, and anyone else in here, also had [i]that,[/i] or something like [i]that.[/i] So... would the kid go anywhere if he just left them there? Probably not. Which meant he had to be babysit a toddler after all. Fuck him stupid. Sighing aggressively, he moved back into the room, pushing the door wide and leaning against it as he sort of went over what he needed to say. If everyone else was too scared to do anything, then he had to be the guy who made them do things. And for a scared little girl...

'Uh, look, kid,' he began awkwardly, 'I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm not the sorta guy who'd hit a child or nothing, you hear?' Shit, this was dumb. He had no idea what the fuck he was doing. 'So, err, you know. You need to come outta there, and, like... [i]eh, como digo esto...[/i] you know, stuff needs doing, a'ight? And you need to help me out with that, I guess.' Yeah, he was no good with kids. He really wasn't going to be getting any awards for being a great dad here.