Who: Cora and Sol What: Getting to Evie's Where: The streets of Seattle When: Thursday, mid-morning Warnings: Non-graphic violence.
Shutting down his laptop, Solomon made his way to Cora's room and poked his head in. "Pack an overnight bag," he told her in a tone that offered no room for argument. He pulled out of her room and went to his, quickly stuffing a few white shirts, a pair of pants, and some underthings into it. He added toiletries as an afterthought, almost neglecting them entirely. Those things weren't necessary for survival. Useful, yes, but not necessary. Mistral's things, on the other hand, were much more necessary.
He wondered what had happened to his priorities, that a cat was as important as Cora.
Frowning at the corner of his room that was officially Mistral's, he debated what to bring. Evie had cat food. Monsieur Fat Cat would just have to share with an overzealous, always hungry kitten. Barring that, he'd feed the kitten lunch meats. The litter box was out of the question; it was too bulky. Mind made up, Solomon stuffed Mistral's favorite blanket into the canvas cat carrier along with a few toys. He herded Mistral into the carrier after a few minutes of chasing the kitten around the room, and, things collected, he went into the living room once more. "Cora? Are you ready?" he called as he slid the laptop into his backpack. No reason to leave an expensive piece of equipment behind should their apartment get looted.
As Mistral yowled in his carrier, clearly upset, Solomon gave the apartment a final once over, and his eyes fell on the set of knives on the kitchen counter. The French knife and the pairing knife would make decent enough weapons for the trip, a nice addiction to his phantom hands. Grabbing both knives in his physical hands, he tested their weight, balancing the blades on fingers. Satisfied, he went back to the living room and slid his backpack on, waiting for Cora.