Rylee did not approve of the loss of electric. It had been a rather peaceful evening at home when the lights had suddenly dimmed then went out completely. He had been reading through a list of Gettysburg diaries, lounging in jeans and one of his old USMC t-shirts when his apartment went dark. Immediately he felt his anxiety begin to climb and a trickle of sweat appear on his brow. He wasn't really afraid of the dark but he certainly didn't like it.
Tripping over some boxes that hadn't been unpacked Rylee fumbled his way to his emergency drawer in his kitchen. Some people had junk drawers; Rylee had an emergency drawer. "Where's my moonbeam," he muttered to himself as he dug around in search of his flashlight. The knock from the concierge came just as he landed a hand on the it.
Instead of sitting in his apartment worrying over the darkness and how it was incredibly dangerous (one could trip over something and hurt themselves, after all) Rylee opted to go down to the lobby with hope that someone would have an idea of emergency plans for such a situation. Or maybe they just needed people with flashlights. He had that covered, at least.
As Rylee entered the lobby he let out a short breath and lingered against the wall. No confidence, just like usual, he was still very new to Pax and was feeling shy in socializing.