[06.00: Commentlog]

[psychoticracer]

[prowls down the corridor of deck 6, amber eyes restlessly scanning the room numbers. He's twirling an empty liquor bottle by the neck in one hand, and the knife he's liberated from the kitchen and sharpened on both edges is tucked into his boot. Then he sees it - 7394. He sets the bottle down in the corridor - it's just for backup, and it's an unusual amount of forethought on his part, but this is a weird-ass ship with strange people on it. Might catch him by surprise, can't hurt to have backup.

Licking his lips with anticipation, he steps forward, kicks the door twice with his boot, then steps back. Smirking and ready, weight balanced forward, ready to absolutely fucking pounce on whoever answers]

{ooc: THERE WILL BE VIOLENCE HERE OK}