[Very soon after things settle enough that Duo feels like he doesn't have to watch his back quite so closely, the first thing he does is find a place to take a bath. The next thing, so soon after that he's braided his hair while it's still wet, he's heading over to the apartment where he remembers Roxas living. He's still got a rifle over his shoulder, the same one that he took off a dead soldier, but then again he's barely put it down.]
[He hopes Roxas still lives here as he knocks on the door, waiting to see who is going to answer it, hoping that the gate hasn't taken Roxas home]
*the take-over has been successful, the Six have been defeated or captured, and the major players in the military have either been locked away or are now cooperating; rebuilding and repair work are now underway as usual after a zombie invasion, but now there's a key difference as some natives and Gatewalkers are hesitantly working side-by-side and the Gate is open for anyone to get close enough to see it--
--an aura of tension still looms over Veles, but it isn't the Gatewalkers who are nervous*
*Thanks to Trance's warning, everyone has long since assumed their positions; A few hours pass, and then the sound they've all been waiting for blares overhead along with the familiar message; warning klaxons almost drowning out a voice that starts off soft and then gets louder as if they leaned closer to the microphone--*
Warning to all Citizens! We have a wall breach! The wall has been breached! All military personnel to your stations! All off duty soldiers report to your commanding officers! Citizens stay in your homes and block all exits.
Again, I repeat, the wall has been breached! Military personnel report to your stations or your commanding officers! Citizens remain in your homes until the all clear as been given!
*--and abruptly the announcement is over and all that can be heard is the siren blaring overhead*
[Jason yawns as he comes out of his bedroom late in the day. He'd been feeling horrid lately, run down, bleary, with this constant background headache. He'd gone to work, but he barely remembered any of it, thanks to drinks spaced out through the night and if he could get away with it, a break for his new favorite relaxer. He hadn't really spoken to anyone he didn't have to in the last... month? He'd lost track of the time. Just hadn't cared. Now he makes his way out to the living room, flopping on one of the chairs and lighting a cigarette.]
[Things have been kinda quiet and just... going. Get up, do chores and errands, spend the day at the clinic, back to the apartment and sleep. The same thing, day in, day out. It's times like these when Fallen Angels called Flonne start thinking about things. And thus, one night, when laying in bed, she might happen to decide to voice one of these thoughts aloud. At least, try to, assuming the other is still awake.]
*Perhaps he was finally bailed out. Or perhaps the guards got sick of the incessant scratching against the walls of the cell, that being the result of one very bored mechanic who decided to relate in many, many great words of his adventures back home in Chicago and then to New York. He may have even gotten sidetracked with a sudden recount of his wonderful meeting with Ladd Russo. There's probably even a sketch or two of car parts. Scratched into the walls of the cell. That Allspark Shard is pretty sharp*
But alas, he was made to leave his masterpiece behind! At the very least, whatever poor soul gets locked away there will have plenty ta reflect on. Enlightenment! And oh the irony if such were true, born from a tale of utter darkness.
*He gives an exaggerated sigh, then stretches out his arms over his head, wrench grasped firmly in each gloved hand. Seems he's managed to persuade them to return that, too.*
Well now. I wonder what all I've missed. Somethin' and nothin' are both the same, rendering such a question pointless. And so I've been given freedom once again, but what's freedom when yer still surrounded by walls an' nowhere to go but-
*Aaand he turns on his heel to make a beeline for the junkyard*
[Well, well, look who just got out of jail? And who isn't rampaging through the streets, demanding to beat the crap out of everyone who put him there? Instead, he's walking at a rather sedate pace, probably because of his several broken ribs.
His face is still a mess, and it looks like more than a couple of his fingers are broken. Apparently, he hasn't been having a good few weeks.]
*Well, whether Don has realized this is potentially a bad idea or not by the time Sunday rolls around, Leon's not backing down from it. After making sure to wake the guy up early that morning, the little Felpool will be making his way to the temple*
Here goes nothing...
*Pulling his hood over his head to cover his ears, he falls into line after the group of worshipers that make their way inside. He's been brushing up on key Russian phrases for this, so he hopes his studies pay off*
((OOC: Open for if Don wants to be run into while he's been nominated for watch duty, or NPCs or whatever for Leon inside. 8D))
*Laharl is stalking back into Midgard, obviously in a foul mood. He's been checking every place he can think of, but a certain red-pigtailed demon hasn't shown her face. By now he can guess what happened, but...*
Where the hell is that lazy, good-for-nothing, miserable excuse for a vassal!?