Nightshift 55: M-B Block Hallway
[From here.]It felt good to not be a useless lump of wounded-ness. Peter stretched his shoulder a bit, lifting and rotating. Not even a twinge left behind. Nice. Better than nice. If he could take just one thing home from this whole mess of terror and insanity, it would be the healing rate. Maybe it would peg him as a mutant-thing when his
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How refreshing to finally be back to normal. Grell sighed as he left the restroom, sliding a hand over his shoulder to toss his hair back. Free of the uniform and back to the familiar feel of nice fabrics and a fitted waistcoat, the death god felt so much better. He could even ignore the dull ache in his shoulder from his injuries last night and the dissatisfaction at not having his powers yet again. The strange feeling from last night, however, lingered. Like the beginnings of an old song one just couldn't recall the words or the tune for, the sense that he was almost upon something pulled at the edges of his consciousness.
It was annoying to put it plainly, but there was little Grell could do to force the feeling to become more aware. He simply had to wait, and death gods were ever so good at waiting. Usually. He did hate waiting for some things, like the climax to a battle or a certain butler to give up hiding his affections and just give in to the black-hearted love he felt for his beleaguered Juliet. The same could be said for Will, but Grell preferred Will to remain just out of reach for awhile longer. It would make that conquest so much sweeter.
Oh, but where was he? Right. Moving along.
[to here]
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