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[ltmuldoon]

The man in the bar is carefully groomed and wearing a very neat pair of fatigues with uniform insigna that any military buff would recognize as belonging to a two-star general with a background in special forces

Comments

[milkbonesoldier]

"I'm not even gonna ask where you got the threads, Muldoon," says Wells. "You picked a hell of a night to turn up again, though."

[ltmuldoon]

Muldoon breaks into a world weary smile at the sight of wells, but it vanishes the instant he mentions his current clothing, replaced by a well formulated sense of chagrin.

"...Got a week there and a week here. Fucking fantastic. Just what I needed."

He starts focusing intently on toweling his hands, "...I'm not...leaving for a bit in any case. Probably smart that I'm here rather then there."

The words unspoken are these, A place where I could do more damage..

[milkbonesoldier]

Up goes the eyebrow. "Sounds like you're more than a little strung out," Wells observes. "Y'need a drink or anything, before the moonrise?"

[ltmuldoon]

"That would be fucking fantastic. I've missed you guys almost as much as I've missed my unit."

Not Louis, that prick, he's better off.

"...Let me finish taking care of my hands first. You guys all right?"