Night 50: M61-M70 Hallway

[doneinthree]

[M66]

Kirk went rummaging through his desk the moment Landel mentioned the "reward" in the drawer, but unless "Portal Ring" was some obtuse term for the metal circle which held the two keys which locked his drawer and the door to their room, there wasn't anything worth noting. (Although he had forgotten about the power packs in there, and quickly

Comments

M68

[deadlyjuliet]

And it was night. Grell didn't have much to do and since his roommate was being nice and quiet for once, Grell decided to do the same. He'd finished his meal and even had time for a quick nap before the night started. The screech of the intercom, the feel of his powers creeping back (even if it was merely a trickle of what they should have been), and the later announcement from the radio were all he needed to wake up. Late. Very late.

The quick nap had turned into sleeping most of the night away.

Rising from his bed, Grell yawned and stretched his arms up over his head. Death gods were closer to humans than some of God's other creatures in that they needed sleep and nourishment, so Grell was more than happy to take part of the night and get some real rest. It helped him focus and it eased the headache he suffered all day long at the unwitting hands of the Institute's patients. They were like a constant buzz in his skull, one he couldn't turn off or fully understand. Annoyances, really. All of them.

Well, time to start the night. Grell brushed his hair and changed his clothes, tossing the rounded glasses onto his pillow as he set the fake eyelashes on and anointed himself with the perfumed lotions he'd received as a gift. After he tied the laces on his boots and the ribbon around his neck, Grell patted the coat down and found the extra scalpels right where he left them. The chainsaw was unfortunately missing, but he could feel something else like a phantom limb hanging around in his mind. He wasn't sure what it was yet, but he was certain it was something good. People didn't get odd feelings for no reason.

Finally ready for the night, Grell examined the tips of his hair and frowned when he noted that some of them were getting split ends. He really needed to get to the beautician soon and get his hair properly taken care of. How could a woman let her hair get into such a state? A lady's hair was her life, wasn't it? Just another strike against this place: not allowing him to be properly pampered. Grell reached up and tied his hair back into a ponytail and then grabbed the radio for once. It seemed as if the little man inside it wanted to talk and it would be useful to hear what he had to say. Sliding that into his pockets, the death god opened the room door and sauntered off down the hall.

Re: M68

[deadlyjuliet]

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