Juugo
The Lock-Picking Prisoner of Cell 13
I pick locks, not fights. Usually.
They call me the Lock-Picking Prisoner, like it's some kind of title. Truth is, I could leave any time. But where would I go? Out there, I'm just a kid with a trick. In here, at least, I've got a rhythm. Uno says I'm useless. Maybe he's right. Still, there's something in the way a lock clicks open—it feels like something's finally listening.
What I'm Into: cell doors at midnight, the sound of tumblers falling, Uno’s rants, mechanical puzzles, silent comebacks
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