Manuel Lukamba - Gym
It was the music of shredding muscles and popping bones that accompanied Manuel's vigorous training. The Gym was empty at that time of the morning, as most prisoners spent their time at their cells waiting for the midday meal. Manuel spent the points he earned in the arena to purchase some freedoms most inmates never experienced, and while those who did enjoy special privileges used it for luxuries, Manuel only asked for time to improve. His goal was to become a stronger, better fighter so he could continue to live. It was the only thing he knew in life. Might is right, and the weak die.
He stood with his legs apart at shoulder length, squatting backwards to counter the weights he was holding. The bar was full on both ends with odd weights which somehow reached a rough equilibrium, and used all of the loose weights at the gym. Manuel couldn't count that high to know how much he lifted, but it never felt enough. He raised the weights and relished in the exquisite pain it caused him as the muscles in his chest, shoulders, back and arms teared long winding strips of his skin. It was a wonderful feeling of power, one he would never give up on as long as he lived.
Manuel Lukamba - Cafeteria
There was something fundamentally wrong in the way Manuel walked in the cafeteria. The hulking mass of flesh and scars had a frightening spring to his step - he shouldn't have been that quick, or walk with such fluid movements. He quickly came to the front of the line and asked for his meal. That was another one of his perks - a thick broth, made with vegetables, wheat and slabs of beef floating around, filled a deep bowl reserved for a select few who bought the rights to own it. Such a meal was required for Manuel's routine - he often consumed 20,000 calories a day, a part of his daily life.
He walked by the others - mere targets to beat inside and outside the ring - and sat down at the table reserved for his kind, tge MIR faction. He had a fight scheduled later that day. Manuel's thoughts let him smile and reveal an awful sight. Broken, chipped and crooked teeth, all growing wildly to replace teeth he had already lost, forming a hideous sight reminiscent of a shark's mouth - rows of hungry, hungry teeth... and he stopped smiling, and those teeth ripped into the cooked flesh of his meal.