Corvayne heard birds chirping before he saw the sun rising over the huge hills on Floor 43. Of course, his view of the mountains, sky, and any birds was ruined by bars between him and the outside.

His cell was, all things considered, a very spacious stucco and stone affair. Larger then his room had been back at the Watcher's village. There was little privacy, just a pair of reused saloon doors nailed to either wall to hide his torso when he showered or used the bathroom. Both guards were almost always female, for some reason, and seemed to enjoy leering at him. At least, after they had a small security freak out when he started exercising.

He was, from looking around, supposed to be collapsed on the floor most of the time. Perhaps it was the single piece of gear they didn't take. The sub leader whom had captured them had for some reason thought it was amusing to have him walking around with just Jam Jammies on. Hence the guards kept calling him 'Strawberry' which, if not for the mocking tone, he'd take over his real name.

No, all his gear and clothes besides his fruit pants and his storage ring had been exchanged for a light teal collar that increased it's weight as he moved away from the center of the cell. On top of that, there was an array of some sort trying to disrupt his powers and sapping his stats. Perhaps they had undertuned it? As a contrast: the cell across from him had a werewolf whom man was nearly always on the ground by the bars, struggling to roll closer as the collar choked him before giving up or having a guard kick him back into the center of the cell where he could sit up and breath.

Corvayne's gravity power didn't seem affected by the collar or formation, so after some practice he got used to fine tuning the control to keep it floating around his neck. As such, he walked up to the bars to get a closer look.

"Do you guys worry he's going to hurt himself?"

The guards must not have been briefed by the last shift as they shrieked and both ladies pulled six shooters. Corvayne didn't move nor pay them mind, watching the struggling wolfman.

After about fifteen seconds, one guard (Blonde Cowgirl 6 in his head) holstered her weapon and sighed. "Step back from the bars kid."

Corvayne took a step back. "Right. Is he going to hurt himself?"

The rookie (Dirty Blonde Cowgirl number 3) tried to look imposing. "Shouldn't you worry more about yourself and your friends?"

"No? They are fine." [[Unity]] let him track everyone's position and status, plus a little bleed-through of their thoughts. Even the worried members of their party, Bell and Preshe, were tinged with boredom, not pain nor fear. He sent reassurance to them, invisible threads from his power also letting him feel Gylwin as she engaged in some sort of rapid teleportation pattern, her spirit jumping between six points in the blink of an eye before she moved at high speeds place to place, then spasming again to seven locations.

He was pretty sure if she decided she wanted them gone, there was little that guards or bars could do to stop her. She felt there was a point to this. Corvayne's own plan involved taking over the entire Sect, or at least robbing it on their way out. It could have a curse benefit as well, or perhaps they had techniques the group could learn, or the shape shifting woman thought there was something else important here.

Before he could do that, he needed to get more freedom. [[Unity]] was already feeding him info. The intent of the leader had been greed. The information had noted they had a habit of gradually working people over to get them to join the sect.

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He thought about this then snapped back to the moment. It seems a more experienced guard had arrived and motioned for the two women to put their irons away. "Don't bother. He's behaving. So far." She blew a lock of hair out of her face and adjusted her pancho while giving him a blank look that was either annoyance or smoldering lust. [[Unity]] confirmed a little of both, but not enough to unlock him or undo his weird neck disk.

Watching the three guards he wondered, again, why they insisted on something like a denim bikini and hot pants as the standard female guard outfit. Especially since his understand was that most of the leadership of this sect were women. There was probably a point to it. Or the entire thing was the work of some horny ranch hand who had ascended to godhood. The info packet had more been more focused on the practical recent (3000 years) history.

Normally he wouldn't entertain thoughts like that, but it was the third or fourth day of their imprisonment, and there was very little for him to do as a prisoner kept in some weird cultivator jail, so once again he fell into exercises and planning. He tried not to feel guilty that he was like he wasn't seducing guards or trying to find something to crack curses. He was hitting every guard with [[Unity]] links so maybe he was on his way with the first one, not that he was keen to upset Bell more. He hadn't thought it was working, honestly, but the food got better last night: Pork with his beans. In a few days maybe they'd bring him lemonade and something more then a horse blanket to sleep on.

Once again, the sour thought that he was still treated better as a prisoner then he had been at his village came up. He pushed it away and started doing the spear dance, which for some reason had the guards suddenly standing up straighter. Moving through his forms helped stave off the cold morning air in his cell, and kept him focused on what he could be doing to break his curses.

His train of thought was interrupted by the black eyed woman appearing in front of his cell, startling him a little but the two guards a lot, both the rookie and vet making squeaking sounds. Corvayne stopped his workout and waiting for the woman to talk.

He had not had much of a chance to see her while she was kicking his ass, but now he could take in her ornate denim robe, well made dragon-scale cowboy hat, and belt with a pair of revolvers, matched with tall boots with spurs and what looked like they had knives tucked into them. Her black eyes and red scelera seemed intimidating at first but there was at least one rookie he had seen who had them, so it might not be what Gary had called a 'Sif' thing where someone who was evil looked evil.

“Where did you get that?”

Corvayne looked down at his pants. “You let me keep them. I appreciate it.” He had yet to resort to eating jam from the jammies, but if they gave him bread he'd consider it.

“No. The spear.”

Corvayne looked. He did, in fact, seem to have his spear in hand.

“I'll be honest, I have no idea? I assume you just put it into my hand.”

Her eyes widened at the statement, then narrowed. “Interestin.”

He had a [Unity] link to her too, of course. Even if she was too fast to fight, the pact worked faster then thought. Corvayne offered his trusty weapon to her, shaft first. “If I'm not supposed to have it, please put it somewhere safe, it might not be fancy but it's like an old friend at this point.”

She took it slowly so that he didn't slice his fingers on the tip. “You really don't know how it got here?”

“I have no idea.” He shrugged. “I do appreciate keeping the pants, unless that's an oversight as well.”

“Do not take those off.” He could feel a little hint of emotion leak through the link. He expected annoyance and felt a hint of embarrassment that snapped back to greed, pride, and rigid control.

Corvayne wasn't thinking about it. He instead waited. If the boss was here, she had a reason. He waited while she looked at his spear and hefted it a few ways.

“Do you think you are wasting your time in jail?”

“I'd rather be doing something else, Mrs...”

“Acting Sect leader Rio Blackfist Cumberland.”

“Corvayne.”

“Just Corvayne?”

“Just Corvayne. Though your guards call me Strawberry.”

The woman frowned a little. “Very well. You have shown you have some ability to escape but have not tested your cell. Perhaps you can be trusted to work for your meals.”

“I don't mind hard work.”

“Oh really Corvayne? Well, We shall see if you don't regret that after a few days.” She smirked. He gave a friendly smile back.

The acting sect leader snapped her fingers and one of the guards vanished then came back with a shovel.

“Horses? Or cows?”

The lady smiled, pleased that Corvayne had stepped into what seemed to him an obvious plan to start breaking him down so she could build him up. She practically glowed through the link.

“Oh, you'll wish it was something as small as a cow.”