Night 51: M41-50 Hallway

[hes_deadjim]

He hadn't expected to see a note to him from anyone other than his commanding officers. He'd caught the bulletin (from Dean, wasn't it?) addressed to him before the dinner shift. McCoy remembered him well enough. Rough looking kid, thought he could practice some medicine with nothing but a belt and dirty jacket, but generally had his heart in the

Comments

[unheroed]

In the end, it looked like Lunge wasn't all that interested in tagging along. Maybe he'd had enough after the chaos of the previous night, but Harvey really did think that cutting down on the amount of people with them would help. He and Jones had gotten pretty far just on their own in the past, and he didn't think Lunge was the sort who would slow others down. But hey, this was the last time he planned to ask, if his roommate wasn't interested

[unheroed]

[To here.]

[anemptydecapo]

Dinner was spent without a word said to the other man in the room. Truth be told, the assassin's mind had been so focused on the night ahead, the day past and those within it, coupled with his vision stuck in his journal and his mouth occupied with what little he could force himself to eat, he would have not have been able to hold a proper conversation in the first place. He only noticed the silence after the doors unlocked, once he already redressed and readied himself, and it came with the feeling of... not guilt, not exactly. A feeling that he wasn't the most desirable or conversational of roommates

[gamingsostfu]

The conversation with the roommate wrapped up pretty quickly when Matt heard the lock on the door click open, signaling the start of the night. He hadn't even been aware that much time had passed, so he hauled ass to the closet - making sure to leave Claude well enough alone. Pulling on the boots and coat, Matt nodded when he unlocked the desk drawer and checked it out - the pill bottles and syringes were scattered inside, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he found both cartons of smokes and the pack he and Mello'd broken in the night before

M46

[gomenkudasai]

Ritsu waited for the door to unlock as he did every night, his form filled with the same terrified tension that always accompanied that ominous sound. When it finally echoed through the room, a shameless whimper left his lips - after all, he knew he had no right to be so concerned for his lowly self, when there were other far kinder and more useful people who had been wrought with this situation, and worse. Inexcusable as his reaction was, he still couldn't seem to get used to the change this place underwent once darkness fell.

His wide eyes were fixed intensely on the exit, one hand bunching his sheet in a nervous fist while the other clutched his flashlight to him as a child might hold a stuffed animal. While he knew he had no right to impose his troublesome presence on his dear cousin, he selfishly awaited the soft knock that would announce her presence, and the comforting sound of her voice behind the door.

[herr_inspektor]

And so, in the calm dark sanctum of his room, Lunge sat, and thought, and listened. He’d prepared a work desk for himself already: chair side on so that he had a view of the door whilst he rested his elbow on the desk, a clear space for his hand to sit in wait, radio perched in front of him and switched on in wait of any transmission (and there will be a transmission- Marc wants to create an identity for himself, and while he started last night he was interrupted. No one listens to someone who can’t make themselves heard). Dent had already left, which was fine by him. He and Jones could try again, but he doubted they would get far without a larger group- just far enough, though, to provide valuable scouting information. A slightly selfish reason to not offer his services when he was plainly free, perhaps, but preparation was key

[herr_inspektor]

[to here]