Lindsey McDonald (stopitevilhand) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2010-09-19 10:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | lindsey mcdonald, open, virgil hawkins/static |
Who: Lindsey and OPEN
What: Breakfast raid
Where: Random grocery store
When: Morning
Rating: TBD
Status: Incomplete
He almost expected to catch a whiff of decaying flesh and see a corpse come shambling out of the dark alleyway, starving for flesh. Wasn't that how the scene laid out in movies where the streets looked like they currently did? The usual Monday morning hustle and bustle had been replaced by quiet and a lack of people on their way to work. From the little he'd picked up on the boards among the accusations and casual proclamations of demonic possession, most of the population had split off into groups and were laying low while waiting for someone or something to fix this.
Lindsey had stuck around, stayed out of trouble. It wasn't like he could leave Lawrence and with all the new rules, he wanted a good idea of what he was facing before he went off on his own. So far he hadn't heard anyone breathe a word about Wolfram and Hart, but he wasn't putting anything past the multi-dimensional firm. If this was one of their dimensions, they weren't going to let a wayward employee who'd shot up the boardroom wander off because of a little dimensional hopping technicality.
There was only so long he could stay still in the less grander sense of the word, so he'd headed out. He had a knife in his back pocket, a small idea of what to look for in the demonically possessed, and a few new tricks up his sleeve. If magic even worked the same way here that it did there. That was probably a question for the demon that had a talk or two with the former version of his self that had shown up. Even with everything he'd seen since entering Wolfram and Hart's employment, that still came off as weird.
The sight of a grocery store up ahead made his stomach grumble loudly, reminding him that his last meal had been a while ago. Broken glass crunched under the soles of his sneakers as he crept towards the two broken windows at the front of the store. It looked like someone had already come and gone with whatever it was they were looking for. Pulling off his coat, he tossed it over the sharp broken glass that lined the bottom of the windowsill, about to climb in when he heard glass crunch again and not by his own doing.