Nightshift 21 - Room F1
Lust stood in the center of her room, attempting to figure out just when she'd become some sort of pack rat. She certainly had more than enough small items - anything she could tuck into her brassiere was fair game - and no idea if any of them would be any use. Oh, the small collection of knives would be, and the bits of metal she'd hoarded - utensils, bed-springs, small rocks, things of that nature - but the arts and crafts materials? Scraps of felt, tubes of glitter, small bottles of paint, buttons, beads, brushes....
No, she supposed at least half of it was useless. But there had been that need, that drive to simply lash out. To take things, to horde them, to hide them. She still had that old and bloodied shirt tucked safely beneath her mattress. It was most likely some ridiculous human thing, this obsession with items.
Perhaps Barret would find some use for them. She had pointedly failed to mention her guest when speaking with Scar on the bulletin. It had simply slipped her mind. It wasn't as though Scar was the sort to just show up at her room.
She wondered if he even knew where her room was.
At least she'd get a bit of rest tonight, one way or another.
No, she supposed at least half of it was useless. But there had been that need, that drive to simply lash out. To take things, to horde them, to hide them. She still had that old and bloodied shirt tucked safely beneath her mattress. It was most likely some ridiculous human thing, this obsession with items.
Perhaps Barret would find some use for them. She had pointedly failed to mention her guest when speaking with Scar on the bulletin. It had simply slipped her mind. It wasn't as though Scar was the sort to just show up at her room.
She wondered if he even knew where her room was.
At least she'd get a bit of rest tonight, one way or another.