Mason Reynolds (maseinyourface) wrote in undeadsiegeic, @ 2015-07-10 10:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | indy, mason |
WHO: Mason and Indy
WHERE: Near the police station in Haven
WHEN: July 10, 2015; late afternoon
WHAT: Indy gets revenge on a gang. Mason secretly offers backup.
It was curiosity and general boredom that found him on the rooftop overlooking Haven’s police department. The more time passed, the less interesting things there were to do around the island. Endlessly walking the trails had long since lost their appeal. Plus he didn’t trust leaving his shop abandoned for too long of a time. Ren and her mates (if they were around) could defend the place if they had to, but it was a very last resort in his mind. Perhaps his territorial nature had grown too strong in a year and half. Speaking of Ren’s mates, ever since his altercation with the blonde one nearly a month ago, Mason made a point to stop by here every few days and spend some hours staking out the cop shop. It wasn’t a priority by any means. A way to kill some dead hours in between whatever else he was doing that day. He peered through the scope of his sniper rifle, focusing on the barred windows. The downstairs windows were boarded up from the inside, though a few had two-inch gaps between a few of the boards. Presumably to allow the men inside a means of being able to see what was going on outside. There was no doubt in Mason’s mind that the gang was armed and ready to defend their turf at a moment’s notice. Anyone armed didn’t stand a chance of getting in. But a girl? One young enough and weak-looking enough? A girl with a death wish and a desire for revenge might just do it. If she decided to go through with it. If she’d had enough time to prepare. Maybe she pussied out. Mason wouldn’t blame her. He hadn’t asked her when or where she would strike. But still, he waited and he watched. If nothing else, it gave him time to study the gang at length. Their patterns and arms and general guard schedule. Mason was lost in his thoughts when he spotted movement down on the street. Not a zombie. A familiar head of blonde hair. He focused the rifle on her to track what she was about to do. |