Don't project, don't connect, protect, don't expect, suggest
[One minute, Matt's in Chicago, and the next, he's in an empty hallway.
His first thought is Kira, but if he were behind this, surely Matt would be dead by now. Kira's never shown that he has the ability to transport people like this, and even if he could, he definitely wouldn't use it just to fuck with someone's mind.
He gets up from his awkward sprawl on the floor and looks around, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Ornate but faded wallpaper, a sense that the building's large. He doesn't like it. He's never liked not knowing where an exit is. But he shrugs and lights a cigarette, patting himself down to check the state of his other possessions. He still has his wallet, but the gun he always carries tucked into his back waistband is gone. Fuck.
Not Chicago. Matt takes a deep drag on the cigarette and scans the lobby-like area he finds himself in. No obvious threats. He still touches his goggles, his cap, to make sure they're in place, hiding him as well as they can.
He's sure, now, that this isn't Kira's doing. But everything's back in his hotel room. His computers, the notes on everyone's last known whereabouts, his phones, the voice distorter... everything. Matt's confident his data's uncrackable, but he still internally groans at the thought of all those electronics just sitting there. And his games....]
Shit.
[He has to get out of here, back into the race. He heads for the doors, and daylight.]
His first thought is Kira, but if he were behind this, surely Matt would be dead by now. Kira's never shown that he has the ability to transport people like this, and even if he could, he definitely wouldn't use it just to fuck with someone's mind.
He gets up from his awkward sprawl on the floor and looks around, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Ornate but faded wallpaper, a sense that the building's large. He doesn't like it. He's never liked not knowing where an exit is. But he shrugs and lights a cigarette, patting himself down to check the state of his other possessions. He still has his wallet, but the gun he always carries tucked into his back waistband is gone. Fuck.
Not Chicago. Matt takes a deep drag on the cigarette and scans the lobby-like area he finds himself in. No obvious threats. He still touches his goggles, his cap, to make sure they're in place, hiding him as well as they can.
He's sure, now, that this isn't Kira's doing. But everything's back in his hotel room. His computers, the notes on everyone's last known whereabouts, his phones, the voice distorter... everything. Matt's confident his data's uncrackable, but he still internally groans at the thought of all those electronics just sitting there. And his games....]
Shit.
[He has to get out of here, back into the race. He heads for the doors, and daylight.]