Re: Electronics Shop Apartments: Shiloh F, Alex W
Shiloh had spoken to Mao at this point, and he understood that something had occurred. It had led him to check his own windows, only to find that crack of uncertain origin. But he hadn't assumed it was as bad as all that, not until encountering Alex and his bandaid collection. He wondered, idly, how the shop was downstairs. Mal surely knew already if something had gone awry, seeing as Shiloh suspected Mal had more surveillance on this place than the Pentagon had for themselves. "Then let's clean up your glass and be done with it. Always easier when there's more than one person to take on a chore," Shiloh said, and perhaps it was evident from this interaction that he'd grown up surrounded by other children.
Shiloh knew he should be more careful. He was well aware that he'd be doing himself a service if he took a page out of Mal's paranoia book, but he was reckless, Shiloh, and he was in this town and hiding in broad daylight, so to speak. Which explained why he sauntered into Alex's apartment as if he was a free man, ready and willing to make friendly with anyone who passed his way.
He wasn't a nosy sort, and he wasn't particularly curious about other people's things, but he did glance around once he was inside the other apartment. It was sad, this place. His own apartment, the one on the other side of the hall, had obviously belonged to some decadent woman before Shiloh had come along, and Shiloh found the gaudy decor suited him. This was. "Sad," was what he said, and he said it aloud. "We have got to get this place livable." And just like that, he was all in. "But the windows don't look terrible." He walked toward one.