carter bennett ( human ) . (solepurpose) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2015-01-12 02:52:00 |
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Who: Carter.
Where: The Budget Lodge; his room.
When: Morning.
When he woke it was with soreness radiating through his back and joints that spoke of strain and for a few moments that was enough to give him pause, remaining still in the bed that didn’t feel as comfortable as a decent mattress ought to. It was only when he slowly and carefully pushed himself up and into a sitting position that he realised why it felt the way it did, why there was a slightly peculiar smell coming from all direction and a strange feel to the carpet that spoke of too much use and too little care and maintenance. The room was a cheap one, budget in every way imaginable, dingy decor and unpleasant scars on the walls and stains in the corners that had Carter’s features shifting into a look of displeasure before it passed as quickly as it had come over him.
There was a good reason for him being here despite the fact that he could do better, why spend money on a roof and four walls when the basics would do the same job and leave funds for other essentials?
It was as he was digging around for the twin to the sock he had in his hand that he felt a shape beneath the bed that had nothing to do with the structure of the frame itself, making him step back and tilt his head to try and see what it was down there, his dark hair briefly falling across his field of vision before he swept it back with his free hand. The sock was tossed onto the bed as he lowered to a crouch and reached with both hands to the dark shape, clearly a bag or a case of some kind, more likely the former as he made contact with it and felt the material shift beneath his touch.
There was no sense of foreboding as he drew it out, no fear of what it might be as he lifted with his knees to get the weight of it onto the bed proper so that he could get a decent look at it and whatever contents it held. Still he hesitated for just a moment before unfastening it, drawing back the top to reveal the various weapons within, the dark and clean metal of guns and their various rounds of ammunition store neatly in compartments and pouches, the light sharp steel of blades peeking out from the tops of sheaths. Every single item within the confines of the large bag was pristine and well looked after, cared for and maintained to the highest standard, every piece functional and tangible and lethal.
Carter glanced at the bedside table, at what he had missed sitting there before he had started to dress himself. A gun. A sidearm, holster and all. Picking it up in one hand he felt the weight of it, familiar and oddly reassuring, and with practised motions and the silent assurance of someone skilled with its use he checked the clip and overall readiness of the firearm.
All of this belonged here. It all had a purpose. Not one piece of it was out of place and neither was he. This was where he was meant to be and just because he couldn’t think why that was no reason to lose his composure or feel any sort of disquiet. For everything there was a reason and it would come to him in time. All Carter had to do was wait. Wait and be ready.
Those were both things that he could do.