Eggs and doppelgangers
Who: Handy, Jack, and open
Where: The cafe, to start
When: Morning
What: Handy goes a little...funny in the head.
Sleepwalking wasn't an unknown phenomenon in Handy's life. He'd tried designing new and better and more complex locks for his door to at least keep himself shut in at night in case the condition struck, but to his chagrin he seemed to be proving quite adept at picking locks even in his sleep. On the bright side, it had been quite some time since he'd committed major vandalism in his sleep. On the downside, he really wasn't sure where he went on those nights when he sleepwalked. Unless someone happened to see him (and then had the decency to tell him about it later), no one knew.
When he awoke one morning with a strangely familiar but frustratingly unidentifiable taste in his mouth, Handy did not immediately come to the conclusion that he'd been out and about while unconscious. On going to open his door after brushing his teeth and dressing, though, he saw that the locks had been opened and left undone, and let out a groan. Well, never mind - he'd find out soon enough if he'd done anything regrettable. He made a mental note to stop at the bar and check to see if the jukebox was still alive, then stepped out, locked his door, and jogged downstairs to locate some breakfast. He glanced at Martha's door as he passed it, considering knocking on it - but no, it was still quite early. Maybe he'd bring something back up for her, make an excuse for himself to drop in for a while.
He dropped into a chair in the cafe, not bothering to thank or even look at the waiter who dropped off a mug of coffee and some eggs, toast, and bacon. Just another usual morning in the five-star prison. He opened the book he'd been reading lately and idly looked for where he'd left off reading as he started in on his breakfast.
A moment later he looked up sharply and glanced around with some urgency. When he saw no one else in the room he frowned. He could have sworn someone had just said something behind his back.
Where: The cafe, to start
When: Morning
What: Handy goes a little...funny in the head.
Sleepwalking wasn't an unknown phenomenon in Handy's life. He'd tried designing new and better and more complex locks for his door to at least keep himself shut in at night in case the condition struck, but to his chagrin he seemed to be proving quite adept at picking locks even in his sleep. On the bright side, it had been quite some time since he'd committed major vandalism in his sleep. On the downside, he really wasn't sure where he went on those nights when he sleepwalked. Unless someone happened to see him (and then had the decency to tell him about it later), no one knew.
When he awoke one morning with a strangely familiar but frustratingly unidentifiable taste in his mouth, Handy did not immediately come to the conclusion that he'd been out and about while unconscious. On going to open his door after brushing his teeth and dressing, though, he saw that the locks had been opened and left undone, and let out a groan. Well, never mind - he'd find out soon enough if he'd done anything regrettable. He made a mental note to stop at the bar and check to see if the jukebox was still alive, then stepped out, locked his door, and jogged downstairs to locate some breakfast. He glanced at Martha's door as he passed it, considering knocking on it - but no, it was still quite early. Maybe he'd bring something back up for her, make an excuse for himself to drop in for a while.
He dropped into a chair in the cafe, not bothering to thank or even look at the waiter who dropped off a mug of coffee and some eggs, toast, and bacon. Just another usual morning in the five-star prison. He opened the book he'd been reading lately and idly looked for where he'd left off reading as he started in on his breakfast.
A moment later he looked up sharply and glanced around with some urgency. When he saw no one else in the room he frowned. He could have sworn someone had just said something behind his back.