Osten had barely listened to the message, absorbing anything worth knowing subliminally while he thoroughly examined his own room. Mostly he was preoccupied with tearing his room apart, knowing far too well the worth of a decent hiding place – especially somewhere like this. All it was was a dolled up nick, since they were going to be there for a year. Take the bars off the doors and the guards out of the hallways and Bob’s your uncle. Except here you got your own bathroom. Probably the nicest place he would ever have stayed. He was far more used to the concrete-chic than he was to the stuff out in the hallway that reminded him far more of The Shining. All work and no play, he began, stuffing the bed back together again, make Osten a bored boy. And what time was it now? Nine AM? For a moment he considered whether he would be able to get away with a brief nap, but decided against it. Every woman in his life had told him it was anti-social when there were people around and actually being present to take a look at the others on Experiment B was—What, friendly?
Did it count as friendly when you all wanted to flatten the main experiment kids downstairs?
… No. No, he didn’t really think so. Just important that you went and figured out who you were playing with.
He poked his head around his bedroom door, wishing there would be someone out in the hall rather than appear like he was actively looking for company. Which he wasn’t. He was just curious. Hands tucking into his jeans pockets, Osten eventually leaned his back against his doorframe and stood there, staring down past other doorways. Day one of a week and he already felt like a bug in a jar – and watching the others do whatever it was they were doing on those cameras didn’t seem appealing just then. Besides, the hallway sort of merged into a room off that way, and after a minute stood there he wanted to know what it was. Curiosity killed the cat; the phrase ran through his head the way his dad used to say it like he’d hit an automatic trigger. So he turned on his heel for his keys and locked the door behind him. Someone leaves their door open, you’re going to go in. Breaking his own silence by tossing the keys gently in the air and catching them with the same hand, Osten paused in the entrance. Room was full of birds.
“Morning.” He nodded in greeting – not to either one of them in particular, just the once – then stuffed his keys into his pocket, dropping himself himself into a seat without much grace. It took a moment for it to occur to him he really needed to say more. “This place got a kettle up here? Could kill for a cuppa.” These two made him feel distinctly underdressed. Jeans and a button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. Shoes weren’t anything fancy either.