There's usually somebody in the front seat who is in charge of my well-being...
Sam has been trying to think, and as sitting at his desk and brooding hasn't helped, this involves a lot of pacing, up and down the halls of the tower, through the empty halls no one's ever really used, and the ones still marked with bullet holes because no one has the time or cares enough to do something about that, and that one rusted hallway that reminds him of something, though he can't put his finger on what and he has more important things to worry about than that.
He keeps thinking he should talk to Jack. Time Agent 462O1. Whoever, whatever he is now... It sits wrong, just keeping him, but they don't have a lot of options, and God, Sam just wants to bash his head into a wall a few times in hopes it will rearrange things in a way that will make sense. Thankfully, he realizes the chances of that working are very, very slim.
Gwen, meanwhile, has decided that getting out of the Tower for a breath of fresh air might be a good thing. Of course, this probably isn't the most relaxing thing she could be doing, but at a certain point you just give up on your life not being stressful. She's at the library, going through newspaper articles for any mention of this Flagg person. She's been at it a while, and at this point, the words all seem to be blurring together.
And in the park, there's a black canine, ducking in and out of the shadows, following scents of humans and squirrels and what can only be Rift creatures... Michael tends to make a habit of staying inside around the full moon, or at least only going out in cat shape, but sometimes he just needs to get out. At least he can be easily mistaken for an especially large, dark German Shepherd, and he has the advantage of being able to easily disappear into the darkness. Being out like this may be a little reckless, but he's not stupid.
He keeps thinking he should talk to Jack. Time Agent 462O1. Whoever, whatever he is now... It sits wrong, just keeping him, but they don't have a lot of options, and God, Sam just wants to bash his head into a wall a few times in hopes it will rearrange things in a way that will make sense. Thankfully, he realizes the chances of that working are very, very slim.
Gwen, meanwhile, has decided that getting out of the Tower for a breath of fresh air might be a good thing. Of course, this probably isn't the most relaxing thing she could be doing, but at a certain point you just give up on your life not being stressful. She's at the library, going through newspaper articles for any mention of this Flagg person. She's been at it a while, and at this point, the words all seem to be blurring together.
And in the park, there's a black canine, ducking in and out of the shadows, following scents of humans and squirrels and what can only be Rift creatures... Michael tends to make a habit of staying inside around the full moon, or at least only going out in cat shape, but sometimes he just needs to get out. At least he can be easily mistaken for an especially large, dark German Shepherd, and he has the advantage of being able to easily disappear into the darkness. Being out like this may be a little reckless, but he's not stupid.