Welcome to Gaia! ::

Max heard someone coming before he saw them. He remained completely still in the darkened cell he had ducked into earlier, just in case it was one of the more belligerent criminals. This place might have been minimum security, but some had seen the apocalypse as an opportunity to leave civility behind. It paid to be wary when you were alone, even if the Boss was doing an admirable job (as much as Max hated to admit it) keeping everyone focused on staying alive rather than fighting each other. Even taking precautions, he had found himself in the middle of a few scuffles already. This wandering woman didn't seem concerned, however. Maybe it was because he was a guy. Or maybe people around here remembered who he had been.

He cleared his throat to announce his presence, stepping out into the bloody hall with his eyes lowered. "Sorry. Just looking around." He'd stopped in this cell in particular because it had a strange little window of sorts high on one wall. It didn't seem to lead outside, but he hadn't had a chance to look through it either.

During the chaos of the outbreak, Max hadn't thought much about what taking refuge in the prison would actually mean for him. He wasn't normally someone who neglected to consider the practicality of his actions, but he had been confused and overwhelmed and the reality of the situation hadn't been his prime focus. Now he was an outsider among outsiders, a goody-two-shoes tattletale trying to fit in with the cool kids.

He didn't bother correcting her on the sleeping arrangements of those who hadn't already been living here, choosing to be as forthcoming as possible instead. "I was just taking a look around. It doesn't hurt to be aware of your surroundings. Even though the warden says this place is secure, I want to see for myself." That he was implying that the prison was just someplace you could parade in and out of instead of a diligently patrolled structure was lost on him. He shrugged. "Seems pretty secure."

Max raised his eyes to meet hers, but only briefly. He couldn't recall her, and was embarrassed because of it. His days had blurred together not too long ago, every criminal he'd driven to their punishment little more than a grumble and a nasty glare. He'd rarely turned around to look at them, preferring not to know anything about them at all. He supposed that was going to have to change. "What were you up to around here?"

He huffed more than laughed, a small smile stretching his lips as well. "I didn't think you were dangerous at all," he assured her, though he had a feeling she hardly needed assurance. He might have even been insulting her for all he knew. "I, uh, don't live very far away," Max continued while he took a tentative seat, trying to move past his social stumbling as quickly as possible. "Or at least I didn't before all of this. I guess I live here now." Though most of his thoughts had been centered on his children these past few days, it struck him that he might never go back, might never see his apartment again. It shouldn't have upset him as much as it did. It wasn't like he had very many possessions that he would miss, but he was still sort of attached.

"I was sleeping when things started. I had to get up early to be here. Someone threw a brick through my window with an arm attached." He paused. Out of context, that sounded kind of hilarious. "It wasn't terrifying as much as confusing. I came here because I thought it would be safe. Locked up." He'd heard rumors since that things had started here, but at the time, being in close quarters had seemed better than wandering the streets. "There was plenty of screaming, people running, blood. But, yeah. Mostly confusing." He swallowed, cleared his throat. But he still didn't give his name.

"Like I said, you're not dangerous," he replied with a teasing grin. "Most of you guys are only locked up because the law says you can't just go around spraypainting walls or taking other people's money. Right now, neither of those things really matter at all. So, yeah. Safe." He took her hand, feeling better about his wandering now that it had led to meeting someone who was a great deal more interesting than confrontational. Max debated asking her what she had done, but he decided to keep it simple before he spoke. For all he knew, asking a criminal what they were in for was akin to asking a lady her weight.

"Max," he said. "But you can call me van driver if you'd like." He shook her hand once. "It's nice to meet you, Diana."