Well not everyone was wearing the same jumpsuits. Morgana's was an even less flattering orange that very well could have been plucked straight from prison suppliers.

She was considering asking Root if she could program some fashion sense into the damn computer if they were forced to stay here. Root could do that... probably.

When she slid up beside the new man, she took a moment to glance at him as she picked out a mug of hot, steaming... whatever it was and took a sip. Something about him made her think she'd seen him before, perhaps out of the corner of her eye as she walked somewhere and yet everything about him screamed new blood.

'There's some little cubes in that metal dish that make it sweeter, if it's too bitter for your liking.' she said, openly looking at him now. 'though you look like you could use something strong.'