Repose

So Harry's physically okay but not doing so great in the head. Gwen, you probably know more than I do. Our bigger problem right now is them coming after Perry and Gwen. They let him leave, but they've probably still got him on camera getting into that room through the vent. I covered the common areas, so they won't know where he came from, at least not yet. If they figure that out, though, Gwen's going to have a problem, and they might come looking for him too.

The other question is what you do about somebody who's screwed up but doesn't want to leave. Harry had a shitfit when Perry showed up, it sounded like.

[There's a slight situation on the science campus in the Facility. A young male, name withheld, is found within RyCorp's secure level and escorted out by RyCorp guards. It is believed he entered the level through another level within the building, though the situation is still being investigated. Guards are being questioned, and security is, at the request of RyCorp, being strengthened. There are rumors, of course, about the purpose of the break-in, and they range from the very fanciful (someone was being kept prisoner!) to the most trite (he simply got lost on the way to the bathroom!). Whatever the reason, it means that guests and visitors are restricted for the time being.]

[May/Eddie]

Would you have any herbal remedies for a zombie bite? Asking for a friend.

Who: Svetlana and Cat
When: Pre-ninja
Where: The Cat

It was small town. Too small for three bars, eh? Unless town had reason for lot of drinking. The hookers, they were in same place they always were in towns like this one. On far edge, where housewives could pretend their husbands didn't pine for a fuck that was more than half-assed. Attention. On far edge they lived together. She did not need to go close to know how it would be. It was the same, eh? When you were making money off what was between your legs. Rich men, poor men. It was same. And she was businesswoman now. Trailer would cost money to rent but it was small town. Men who came would be more embarrassed to be known than woman who waited for them.

But no matter. Three bars. The other side of town, there was facility. Enough men who worked there to keep small bars in business, enough men who worked jobs to keep town in cash. It was adjustment, for Sveta. Adjustment to no longer hear city traffic and light play through the window across the bed at night, adjustment that the streets were people who knew each other and spoke, not because they owed money or protection but because it was small town. Adjustment but she could not sleep easily. There was hardware on the door to apartment over tea-shop, new from hardware shop. There was gun under her pillow and knife in drawer of nightstand and in her dreams she reached for both. But she had neither now and she did not look as if she had not slept, eh? Fresh-dyed copper hair dripped to the sharp of her chin, skin was bone white, slash of vermilion mouth. Her bra was magenta flash under white cotton t-shirt and jeans were city-tight, painted denim. It was not billboard. She was tea-shop owner, not in trailer park but Svetlana dressed the way she dressed. She was not small town.

Bar was not full. Not yet, and her eyes were shuttered as she took in men in uniform who pushed balls around pool table. Men in uniform were men out of it and men, Svetlana knew how to deal with. In uniform, they were unpredictable. But she was innocent here. She was upstanding citizen, with business. She took a seat at the bar and she cupped her chin in her hand and if accent was thick, she was comprehendible.

"Whiskey. Neat." Fuck predictable.