|
|
|
Car Jackers and Dangerous Deals
|
^^...^^
....^^^
^^^@..^
^^^^^^^
.......
New Nevada Ranger Center [east, west, center, south, north]
As if a mirage, inlaid between several jutting, moutainous peaks, rests a sight
that seems to be absorbed in its own legend. A battered prison, obviously
having witnessed its own share of defeats as well as victories, sits alone in a
grassy field. Even the withered, faded sign, set across from the prison over a
distance of several hundred yards, doesn't need to dictate what this position
is to weary travellers. The New Nevada Ranger Center. Worn-down, but not
forgotten. Battered, but not broken. A place for civilization to start again. A
place for hope.
Dark clouds fill the sky, pouring acidic rain onto the wastelands.
Solidus
Savin
Savin looks over the garage door and the lock that holds it together. The
russian man then quickly glances around to make sure no one would be in earshot
before clicking off the safety on his pistol, aiming it at the lock and letting
a single round hit the metal, breaking it completely open. "Too easy.." he
mumbles in his thick russian accent as he throws what's left of the lock to the
ground.
Solidus hears the gunshot really close from inside the garage and hides behind
a table loaded with tools. Reaching quickly for his holster, he unbuttons
the strap and puts his hand on his Longslide, listening for the entry of
the unknown assailant.
Savin pulls the garage door open, kicking the lock away with Savin pulls the garage door open, kicking the lock away with a booted foot. As
he sees someone in the garage, his already unholstered weapon points at the
Ranger's head, "I didn't expect any company," he says to Solidus, "I think you
can forget I was here, da?" Savin pulls the hammer back on his weapon, a cold
glint in his eye.
Solidus feels a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, pulling his pistol
slowly from the holster so no noise is made, since the pistol has already
been cocked. Looking straight into the eyes of the unknown person, Solidus
doesn't respond.
Savin continues to stare at the Ranger, his finger twitching on the trigger, "I
will kill you, boy. Put the gun down and go play with your toys. This one is
mine," he gestures to the bike with a turn of his pistol, before steadying it
back on Solidus, "Go on now."
Solidus continues to stare in silence, then unexpectedly draws his gun up and
fires one shot wildly into the air as he rolls behind the motorcycle
itself. Breathing heavily, Solidus gets back onto a crouching stance and
keeps his head down, but fires a few more shots in the general direction of
his attacker.
Savin ducks quickly at the random shot, his body falling to the floor, "You are
foolish, boy! Godless pig," he mumbles under his breath, his thick accent
making it hard for him to be unerstood. "Stupid boy too... that motorcycle must
use something as fuel, I see the tank. A shot, and you die, boy!" the gun
levels at the crouched figure beside the tank and a single shot is fired.
Solidus cries out in pain as he feels a bullet tear through his leg, knowing
that came close to hitting a bone. Grimacing in pain, Solidus scrambles
behind the bike for better cover, then shouts, "Why blow it up though? I
thought you were here to steal it!" as he peeks from behind the bike and
fires two rounds at the attacker.
Savin's body is thrown back from the impact of a single bullet, the other
missing him as he falls, "ugh.." the Attacker sits up, a trail of blood falls
down his shirt, "INSOLENT boy..." he yells, holding onto the side of his
shoulder where the bulltet connected, "I shall remember your face...you will
not live to see many more days!"
Solidus grips his gun tightly and shouts, "Remember this face, and remember to
fear it if I see you again! I've got one more round with your name ALL
OVER IT , pal!" Solidus hopes that the man won't call his bluff, since his
pistol is really empty. Breathing heavily, he listens for the sounds of
any movement at all.
The man stands up, grabbing the ledge of a tool table, sending
wrenches spilling over the floor. "Da...I will remember you. As for now, I will
let you live, live in fear of me, boy!" the man starts to hobble backwards, a
glare in his eyes as he turns to regard Solidus one last time before stumbling
out into the desert, having no real destination besides out of here, "Live in
FEAR!!!"
Sighing hard, Solidus takes no chances with fate and pulls a magazine from his
emergency pack, then reloads. Pulling himself up on the bike, he realizes he
can't walk very well or for very long either, then thinks of calling the doc on
the radio. Pulling himself outside with difficulty, he fumbles for his radio
and pushes the button down, then says into it, "Doc, *ngh* are you there?"
The radio squawks, silence answers solidus for a moment before
Rylen's voice is heard, "Yeah this is Doctor Grey, what's the problem?"
Solidus growls in pain for a moment before pushing the button again and
replying, "I got into a firefight with someone who was attempting to *agh*
take your motorcycle. I took one in the leg, and I need assistance
immediately."
The radio is silent for a moment, "Shit..alright, I'm in the mess
hall where are you?" the sound of him moving is heard in his message, "I'll go
get you."
Solidus pushes the button one last time and says, "I'm at the garage, with your
motorcycle."
The radio bursts with static again, "Alright, on my way.... the
motorcycle is ok, right?" Rylen tries to joke with Solidus to keep him calm,
"I'm on my way."
Rylen steps out of the main building's tarmac and throws the garage door open,
"Shit... who fought with you, and is he still around?" Rylen's hand moves to
the Garand that's slung over his shoulder, switching it to turn for battle and
not just to hold it.
Solidus looks up at the Doc and thinks that he really appreciates the doctor
now as he utters, "No, the fucker escaped...I managed to keep your bike in
one piece though, heh *Oww*. Think you can help me limp to the infirmary,
doc?"
Rylen takes a quick run to the outside of the building, making a look around,
his rifle pointing the way...seeing nothing but a trail of blood, Rylen heads
quickly back to solidus, returning the rifle to it's carry position and bends
down, using his legs to lift solidus up to a stand. "here, put your weight on
me,"
Solidus grimaces from the extreme amount of pain moving his leg causes, but
props his weight on the good doctor and uses his good leg to help him move.
Solidus chuckles a bit, "This is the first time I've ever been hit by a
bullet...strange that I'm not crying out and letting tears stream down my
face, even though it still hurts like hell."
Rylen smirks and uses his right arm to hold up Solidus, his hand griping firmly
on his belt loop to hold him up better, "Yeah... it's the adrenaline, when that
wears off..." he doesn't finish that, he doesn't feel he has to. "come on,"
Rylen starts to walk to the Infirmary slowly, to not have to make Solidus run
along beside him. "We'll get you something when you get there."
Solidus smirks as well, then cries out in pain for a moment as his shot leg
shifted unintentionally. Looking at the doctor, he continues to shuffle
with his assistance, hoping that the adrenaline won't wear off until he at
least gets some medication.
Rylen shakes his head, "Got I hope my back doesn't go out.." that said, Rylen
bends down, pushing his shoulder against Solidus' waist and uses his legs to
power the fireman's lift, leverage allowing him to pick up Solidus with some
effort, "ugh, you're heavy.." rylen grumbles under his breath as he begins to
walk to the Infirmary again.
Solidus smirks and jokes back, "And you're not quite so strong there, Mr.
Doctor."
Rylen glares at Solidus over his shoulder, "Don't make me drop you, private..."
he grins, showing he's kidding and hobbles along under the weight of Solidus.
...........
...........
....[@]-[.]
.....|.....
....[.]....
Ranger Center - Prison Infirmary [east, south]
Set in the stifling, pulsing glow of the wavering overhead fluorescent lights
attached to its ceiling, the Ranger Center Infirmary has been adapted somewhat
since its original introduction into the prison, as can be seen from the
tell-tale signs. Flictell-tale signs. Flickering, static-filled monitors are strewn throughout the
area, and the slumped over, monumental figure of the makeshift cloning vats
loom in the background. Chalky, cracked tiles form the walls of the expanded
area, and, in the center of it all rests a cold, steel operating table; the
shimmering and shaking lights casting off of the dulled, blackened shades of
crimson permanently etched on its surface. Over it all, the high-pitched whine
of running machinery is audible, along with the occasional consuming groan of
pain from within the rows of occupied cots strewn away from the main table. The
cots, apparently, are filled with the Ranger operatives or allies that have
been dragged in from the hostile wastes. Seemingly completing the picture are
the forms of two men, obviously in charge and supervising all that is currently
being done. Not only the patients, but the technical apparatus as well.
Robert Aage the Pharmacist
Doc Krueger the Chief Surgeon.
Solidus
Rylen
Solidus sighs almost happily as he sees the lights to what used to be a dreaded
place: the infirmary. Looking around from his vantage point over the
doctor's shoulder, Solidus breathes heavily before looking at one of the
medical tables, thinking that he'll have to lay down on that as many others
have had to before to have something fixed or examined...
Rylen grunts under the weight over his shoulder and continues along to the
nearest table. Crouching, Rylen begins to lean forward, trying to release
Solidus as gently as he can, but since only he's carrying him, it might lead to
a slight jarring when solidus hits the table if the patient isn't careful.
Solidus tries with the best of his ability to come to a soft rest on the table,
but shouts as a jolt of pain shoots through his leg for a moment, then
stops. Looking at the doctor again with sweat beading up on his forehead,
Solidus closes his eyes and says in a soft voice, "I hope I didn't exhaust
you, because I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of a mistake made
by tired hands."
Rylen grins and stands up fully, "Huh, nah, that didn't exhaust me just made my
back hurt." The doctor mumbles as he stretches his back and shook his head.
Stepping over to the cabinet nearby, Rylen grabs a few things quickly and hands
a bottle to solidus along with a canteen, "You can take up to 5 of those..you
decide how many you want to take, you're the one idecide how many you want to take, you're the one in pain." rylen grabs some
gloves and other items for surgery.
Solidus looks at the bottle solemnly, then takes one pill out and looks it
over. Knowing its effects, he pops it into his mouth and swallows, waiting
for some of the pain to go away as the doc gets his gear together.
Rylen removes his shirt, tossing the item aside as it was full of oil from the
bike. Leaving him shirtless, he grabs another plain white shirt and throws it
on, along with his white lab coat. Quickly scrubbing his hands, the doctor
slips on a pair of gloves and a mask, "One? Heh, you're like Captain
Drake...man had a bullet removed from his shoulder just by biting on a leather
strap." Rylen gets a pair of pliers..
Solidus looks at Rylen, then back at the bottle, then takes two more pills from
the bottle, another one for now, and the next one for a little later.
Thinking of the imminent pain that might be presented, Solidus mutters, "I
don't think I'll ever look at a pair of pliers the same again..."
Rylen shrugs his shoudlers slowly, "Well....here, let me give you this, because
that bullet looks like it's pretty close to the bone." Rylen opens his jacket
pocket, digging around inside the massive storage area, before coming up with a
blue capped syringe. "This will completely numb you up, but you're going to
probably feel the bullet and the tissue anyhow, if not pain then just the
movement." Rylen uncaps the stim and pushes along Solidus' leg around the
outside of the wound to find a suitable area.
Solidus smirks and says, "You're the doc. I leave my poor extremity to your
expertise from here. I'll just deal with pain if it happens to show up."
Rylen nods and jabs the needle into Solidus' leg, having to find to hit the
nerve that would prevent the pain from being felt. Luckily for both of them
he's on target, as for the area he's dealing with is pretty close to under the
backside of the knee. "Sorry, but you won't feel anything after a minute."
rylen injects the full contents of the neeldle, "I'll burn for a moment.."
Solidus notes the burning sensation that the doc mentioned, and grimaces some
more, then realizes that most of his leg is numb after a minute, including
the pain. Looking down at the gaping wound in his leg, he says, "How long
do you wager I'll be limping around this place?"
Rylen shrugs his shoulders, "Depends on how deep the bullet is, and if it cut
any tendons or muscle." Reaching into his suit, the doctor grabs a trench knife
and grabs the pant leg and cuts around the knee and then down it to pull off
the cloth. Tossing both aside, he picks up an alcohol pad and begins to wipe
down the leg.
Solidus shudders from the fact that he's about to have a foreign object pulled
out of his leg. Closing his eyes, he tries to relax and keep his mind
occupied with anything else. "Doc, I think I nailed that vandal in the leg
too...tit for tat, eh?"
Rylen takes the pliers up, dipping them in alcohol as well, and then looks at
the newly cleaned wound. "Ok...you won't feel pain, but this isn't going to
feel good either." Rylen takes a gauze pad in his left hand, using it to open
the wound and peer inside, "Alright.. I see it, and it's touching the bone.
You're going to feel pretty dizzy when I'm touching tYou're going to feel pretty dizzy when I'm touching the bone and might pass
out, but I'll make it quick." Rylen pushes the pliers into Solidus' open wound.
Solidus feels the uncomfortable shifting of muscle and skin as Rylen pushes the
pliers inside his wound. Keeping his eyes close and once again refocusing
on something to keep the feelings of uncomfort away, he thinks about the
guns he so lovingly maintains in his equipment depot.
Rylen grabs the bullet, the pliers scraping the bone, "Here we go...don't move,
got it?" the captain warns lowly, holding the leg still with his left hand as
he begins to wiggle the bullet to get it loose, "Alright...on three... one..
two.." and Rylen yanks the bullet before 3 to catch him off guard and cut the
suspense.
Solidus scrunches his face, then screams out loudly, not from pain, but from
the shock of the bullet being removed so quickly and him being so
unprepared. Calming down on the table again, Solidus sighs and smirks at
the good doctor. "All I need now is a huge bandage and some medicine,
right?"
Rylen glances back to Solidus with a smirk as the rest of the people look at
him..a man starts to laugh, but Rylen glances to him, "Oh please..you called
for your mommy when I had to stich you up." that shuts him up pretty fast.
"Anyway..." The doctor pushes the gauze pad against the wound, putting the
bullet and the pliers aside..another stim is produced from Rylen's coat, as he
likes to keep them close at hand, a red capped stim. "Coagulant," the capain
mumbles as he bites off the top and ejects some of the air from the syringe.
The needle soon finds a way into four points around Solidus' wound to stop the
blood flow.
There's a casual clack of heavy boots in the hallway, followed by a strange
feeling of ominence, just as the tall, fiendish gang leader rounds the corner
to the infirmary. Standing there in the doorway, he gazes about, obviously a
foreigner in the building. Devil, spotting some of the more sensitive medical
equipment, flicks his cigarette downward. It bounces on the hard floor twice,
before the neohuman grinds the smoldering ember into nothing more than a black
smear of ash trailing from a bit of paper. "I knew I smelled the scent of
weakness escaping the body..." he chuckles, glancing at Solidus.
Rylen nods and grabs another roll of gauze, "yeah...go ahead and crash, and
when you wake up, let me know...have one of the nurses call me." he says as he
starts to wrap the wound up.
Solidus hears the other person only faintly before passing out, watching as
everything fades to black for the night.
Rylen glances up at Devil as he enters the room, "Huh? Who are you? Do you need
help?" rylen asks, finishing the wrapping of the wound, securing it with two
old silver colored claw holds. "Are you hurt?"
"Who am I..." he chuckles. Devil takes a sharp breathe of air, tasting the
scent of an open wound, and letting the flavor simply roll across his tastebuds
as he steps into the infirmary. "Officer... Rylen, is it?" he asks casually,
stretching his arms outward for a moment, before bending them and resting his
gloved palms on his thin, almost aesthetically feminine, hip bones, pulling his
grimy jacket backwards and revealing the handle of a large pistol jutting out
of his waistband.
Rylen looks the person over, then tries to recall the description of them..
"You are right, I am Rylen...you must be Devil." Rylen remarks, leaning his
back against the nearby cabinet and watching Devil's movements...
"I understand you're teaching people how to patch up the results of combat?"
Devil inquires, leaning on a nearby operating table. Despite the semi-friendly
demeanor he seems to give off, his entire body looks taut, like a thick
rubber-band ready to snap, or some sort of rabid feline eying up a potential
candidate for a meal. Noticing the observation of his posture, Devil rolls his
red-hued eyes, and gives out a slight chuckle that sounds something like dry
gravel being scraped against pavement. "Relax, stitchgiver. If I wanted you
dead, I would've torn your throat out and strung you up from the ceiling
supports by now..."
One could swear a few of the black "veins" around Devil's eyes shifted
positions as he speaks...
Rylen nods his head...he's had enough death threats to last him a life time, so
Devil's remark doesn't phase him much...howevDevil's remark doesn't phase him much...however the overall appearance of what
looks like a walking corpse does slightly unnerve him. With the painted faced
one, Trujillo, coming back last time he was doing surgery Rylen begins to
wonder if this is just a freak show gathering, "Yes. I am. I teach anyone who
wishes to learn." The man's arms remain crossed over his chest, his back firmly
against the cabinet.
Outside, someone shouts, "Hey. HEY! Come back here!" followed by the tiny
scampering of feet, the tinkle of dogtags, soon followed by a larger trample of
feet. "Mangy mutt! Gimme back my lunch!"
"Good. I'll be sending some of my boys down here, then. While they're more than
adept at destroying human anatomy, they still need to learn how to put
themselves back together." Devil replies, sliding his index finger across the
operating table. There's a dull scraping sound as the 3/4th-inch long obsidian
talon on his fingertip grates across the metal frame. As the new voices ring
through the ganger's sensitive hearing, Devil's eyes flicker towards the source
of the commotion. He purses his lips tightly, and lets out a sharp whistle. The
kind one would use to beckon an animal.
Rylen glances to the door, hearing the words...Rylen archs a brow at them, but
it wasn't his place to catch runaway dogs. Rylen shook his head and didn't seem
to pay much mind to the situation of the stole goods. Rylen, however, nods to
Devil's request. "Well...if they come here, they must come unarmed, and they
will be accepted in. Tell them to ask for me when they get here, and I will be
sure they are taught well. A single fight, or confrontation between them and
any ranger staff will be looked into. If it was there fault, they will not be
allowed back, if it was not their fault, the ranger will be diciplined. I
expect them to listen to me and do as I say. Do you accept the terms?"
A sharp, distinct whine is heard, and the tiny claws clicking against the floor
stops, and turns around, heading in this direction. An angry man outside
shouts, "HEY! What the? Ump.." a muffled thud. Momentarily later, a small dog
appears at the door. A welsh corgi, with dark red eyes, and a piece of meat in
his jaws. It whines, at Devil.
Devil reaches out his hand, stroking the dog gently behind the ears as he
glances down at the mutt and its stolen prize. He returns his gaze to Rylen.
"My boys will come packing heat, as it's in their nature. Tellin' a Badlander
to put down his hardware is like askin' a heroin addict not to spike up... but
I assure you that they'll come in peace. My boys know better than to piss on my
orders, knowin' the consequences..." Devil replies. "Your chums know better
than to fuck with us on our home turf, and we're more than happy to return the
favor. I'll also try to equip them with some medical equipment, so they won't
need to borrow any of your stock."
Rylen rubs his chin in thought...but he knew the terms had to be accepted,
"Very well, if they have weapons that is fine, and I respect your orders for
them. If one of them pulls something, he wil be disarmed, even if it means to
shoot him to stop him. Rangers with weapons will be monitoring the training to
make sure peace is kept. If they come in full peace and ready to oblige, then
they'll get the most out of the training."
The dog's eyes droop closeThe dog's eyes droop closed, and it's ears bend back slightly, happy of getting
some attention. Then a scrawny ranger, with short cropped hair and a set of
round sunglasses appear at the door, in his fatigues, a napkin tucked onto his
shirt. He pants heavily. "You!" he mutters, pointing a fork at the dog. "That's
my lunch!" he raises his voice, anger filling his eyes.
Rylen looks to the Ranger who yells at the dog with the food, "Just let him
have it. I doubt you want dog saliva all over your food anyway. Just tell them
that I said you can get another ration because yours is...obviously inedible
now." The doctor looks him over for a moment longer, wondering just about the
ranger's temper, "and no attacking animals, unless it's in defense of your
life." His tone is one not to be jacked around with, "Understood?"
"Sounds good. As long as you educate my horde in the more medicinal arts, the
terms sound good. I might actually come by to check on their progress, to make
sure they're not fucking around and wasting your time and my own..." Devil
responds, before turning his head towards the ranger. All at once, Devil's
voice drops down to a rather inhuman baritone, a direct contrast to the
pleasant vocals displayed in the conversation with Rylen. "And this is my
dog..." he retorts, running the tip of a sharp talon gently across the top of
the dog's head.
Rylen steps foward away from the cabinet, "You're more than welcome to do so,
I'll train them as well as I can." Rylen gives the ranger another glare, and a
cocking of his head to the side to show him it's better that he leave now
rather than arouse Devil's anger.
"Bu.. but.. " the ranger stammers, his fork dropping to his side, starin at the
dog, at Devil, and then at Rylen in disbelief. "Ah.. I .. oh, allright," he
grumbles, deciding not to tango with the vicious looking corpse stroking the
dog. "Never liked lamb chops anyway.." he mumbles, as he walks away from the
door.
"Hold it..." Devil reaches into his jacket, and slides a five dollar bill from
one of the inner pockets. He extends his arm towards the ranger, the faded
greenback tucked between his index and middle finger.
Rylen pushes his hand to his temple, shaking his head, "Need an aspirin," the
doctor mumbles under his breath but looks back to Devil, "when should I expect
them, and how many of them will be coming at a time?"
Without taking his eyes off of the other ranger, he responds: "In about three
to four weeks. They should come in groups of five to ten, unless they all leave
at the same time... they'll be bringing their own food, tents, and drugs, and
will probably camp out near the Ranger Center..."
Solidus shifts around violently for a moment, then mutters along the lines
"...damned XM1014s..." as his body once again relaxes limply on the table.
The ranger turns around, and raises an eyebrow. "Gee.. thanks, sir." he says,
gratiously, to Devil, as he pulls his other hand from the pocket, to wave Devil
off. "But it's okay, I guess. The Capn's said I could have another ration, and
I think that's enough. Thanks anyway," he mutters, as he disappears away from
the door.
The dog drops the meat, and pants, happily.
Devil tucks the fiver back into his jacket, and kneels down next to the dog.
Reaching a hand down, he picks a small bit of the meat-scrap off from the
corner, and pops it into his mouth. He then stares at the canine intently as he
chews, pointing his index finger down towards the meat. "Eat up, thief." he
says, voice back in a psuedo-pleasant tone.
Rylen nods and looks to the shaking of the patient, and then smirks at the
mention of the weaon, "Alright...we have space outside in the old prison yard,
there's wieght benches and other things to keep them occupied out there." Rylen
again leans back against the cabinet.
The dog sniffs at Devil's finger, and licks it. It then sits on the ground, and
lowers its head to it's stolen prize, and gnaws at it, abeit rather fondly. It
looks pretty hungry.
"Calisthetics never hurt anyone..." Devil chuckles in response to Rylen's
mentioning of the weight-training. "In return for training my 'Landers, feel
free to send some of your medics up to the Ground Zero... we'll show'em the
ropes of full-fledged close quarters combat." Devil says, turning his attention
back to Rylen. "Your Rangers may be able to hit on-target from a hundred meters
'way, but I've seen most of'em... when shit gets up close and personal, they're
lacking. Us Badlanders are unmatched when it comes down to hardcore close-range
killing..."
Solidus shouts out "Damn it, Alpha Company's been hit by short rounds!" then
falls unconscious again.
"The skills'd be useful for going into the fray and scraping up the folks your
stitchgivers need to patch up..." Devil says solemnly, looking back to the
canine. "This anyone's pet?"
Rylen nods, rubbing his chin, "I"ll be the first to take you up on that...I
need to sharpen my skills." Rylen smirks and looks back to Devil and the dog,
"No. I don't think I've seen that dog around before." The doctor shrugs and
opens his coat, fishing around for a bottle of aspirin and opening it up.
"Talk to my associate, Ratspike. He'll show you the ropes for how to dance to
the rythm of lead at close-range... shotguns, carbines, submachine-guns...
crowbars, bats... whatever. Just try to keep all your teeth..." Devil responds,
petting the canine. "Any qualms about me taking this dog with me? I could use
something cute amidsts the den of thieves, drug-addicts, and sand-pirates I
live with..."
"...for Allah loves wonderous variety..." he mutters under his breath, gazing
down at the dog.
Rylen shakes his head, "I'm sure he'd be glad to go with you...feel free to
take him." Rylen sands up and brushes off his shirt, "And I'll be sure to be
careful, Ratspike..." Rylen says again, to commit the name to memory, "But I'm
afraid visiting hours are over, so you and your new friend are going to have to
go...sorry, but it's the policy. I'll be expecting your men and you back
sometime soon."
The dog growls slightly as it tears rather viciously into the meat, and soon,
gulps he rest of the meat down. It starts licking its mouth, savoring the sauce
which went with the meat.
"No problem." Devil responds, getting to his feet. He sizes up the dog,
thinking to himself for a feesible name. "Hmm..." he ponders, before coming up
with one. "Let's depart, Fenris..." he chuckles, thinking to himself. "...and
just call me Bodolf..." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket. He purses his
lips once again, and whistles sharply, before he begins towards the door.
With reddish-brown eyes, the welsh corgi glances up at his new master, and
whines a little, before letting out a little bark. It stands up, and trots
after Devil, its claws clicking on the concrete floor.
Rylen nods and steps away from the cabinet to make sure the door will be locked
so no one can get in to bother the patients slumber, "Have a good one," the
doctor says as he removes his jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair.
Devil nods, before disappearing out the door, followed by his canine. He makes
a note to stop by the mess hall, or look for a vending machine to maybe pick up
some road-jerky for the dog...
Rylen steps to the door and locks it, heading out of the room and into the hall
with a yawn..so much to do. So little time.
|
|
|
|
