Time to get some shit rolling. Cain had given his little band of rejects some time to settle with Axel's sudden demise and the shift in approaches, but Cain was ready to kick shit into gear, now. They'd mourned. They'd retaliated on Griffingate. Now it was time to start working and moving forward as a unit, in his opinion. And, hey -- was anyone really going to argue with him? He doubted it. Things had grown stagnant, and the kiddos were bored.

"Alright, everyone," he called from the docks, stretching his arms over head briefly before settling back against a stack of crates. "Let's get some shit done. We're going to do weekly assignments for projects, so come get something to do." Nothing like chaotic productivity.

Cain had a decent enough batch of hell-raisers to consider at the moment, and he considered them individually, his analytic stare missing nothing as it passed over someone for a moment before he spoke. Hell, it didn't matter if he already knew them and a decent amount about them -- he would never stop taking in details. That was simply the nature of his sea-green gaze, and at the moment it was taking in Jeong. He knew him, on the surface level; had noticed him enough times, knew he was around, tracked his movements on the docks occasionally. He made it his business to know who everyone, so he knew his name -- not that he let on.

"Nice to meet you, Jeong," he said, easy, that crooked grin in place as he briefly sorted through every bit of information he knew about the guy, "How's setting up training exercises? We'll probably have a lot more action, soon." Carried a pocketknife, trained semi frequently and could fight fairly well, quick to retaliate verbally, had that sort of energy about him that said he would punch someone if they came at him first -- that was the most Cain knew so far, which left him with not much to pick appropriately for, but alas. He was watching for Jeong's response, ready to note it and adjust for next week, anyway.

Amren was a lot easier to nail down, if only because he studied her all the damn time. She was a spit-fire and a thief, obsessed with anything shiny, but he knew there was a soul in there, somewhere. He grinned a little broader at her, drawling, "Hello to you too, Reni. Wanna take a hit team and steal some shit from Freddie's guards? You'll need a smaller group than a whole raid, but hey -- if they catch you, burn them."

His gaze was amused as he considered Thomas, if only because he could never look at the prince without seeing himself as a teenager, in someways. Cain had a horribly inclination to take that nobility and purity and twist it into something dark, but alas -- Tommy boy wasn't ready for such corruption, yet. "Round up our latest batch of kiddos from the raid and get them checked out, yeah? Most of them probably need a good medical once over, make sure they ate, that sort of thing." Some of those little shits would take some coming around, but Tommy was a kind face and a kind heart to connect with them. Being a former royal himself didn't hurt.

Cain considered Leo momentarily, gaze narrowed slightly in his thought. He knew Leopold was a bit of a diva, in all seriously -- he could be quick to upset and offend, holding himself far above anything he deemed... dirty. Or boring. Or simply not of his taste. He loved that damn dog, though. "Leo, I want you to put together a post-raid down time with Peanut. Give people a chance to destress and mingle with each other after they've gotten patched up." Animals were soothing presences, more or less. Besides, Leo struck him as the type of person who knew exactly how to relax luxuriously.

Rainier was another one that Cain had little to work with, and that pause as he studied them was a little longer. Laid-back. Provocative. Not horribly responsive to authority, unlikely to do anything Cain gave him in the first place. "Hey, Rainier. Take your pick: Organize a mass trading day internally with the Market, or take some others to go investigate outer buildings for more supplies." He liked to rely on variety when it came to those he didn't have much on, and use their choices as basis for better planning.

Same goes for Iona, he supposed, though he had seen her playing games and mingling with others on the docks that way. Close enough to a hobby, he guessed. "Iona, you can either put together a cards tournament or teach people to throw knives." Yeah, he'd taken note of the knives she carried, too -- though he wouldn't consider her exactly the teaching type, so he supposed he'd see how she thought of herself.