⊰☠⊱ — Heavy footsteps could be heard, black combat boots grazed the cold, hard ground-- trudging towards his room. The lights were off, meaning his roommates were either out or snoozing away in their own rooms. Taking a turn, his footsteps receded. Something felt off. A calloused hand hung midair, taking note on how the door to his room was cracked slightly open. Someone-- something had entered his private quarters without his knowledge while he was finishing up a handful of jobs. Pursed lips would twitch, carving downward-- a frown permeating his usually phlegmatic visage.
The deaf Tagged wasn't in possession of anything of any value, unless they counted his katana, but he always had the weapon on him-- so why else would they need from his room? His thick hand trailed towards the hilt of his katana as he nudged the door open with his boot, defenses up and ready to slice the goon who figured it was such a bright idea to get into his room. However, his muscles-- being loosened as his lips curved down to an angle, frowning once more. It seems some stray found it's way to his room and decided to use it as a scratch post, hence the torn up mattress, his tattered clothes, the clawed up walls, ceiling and floor, and the shredded pillows.
'Man, looks like I'm gonna have to swing by and get myself some new clothes... What a pain in the ass, man..'
However, he wasn't one to go shopping.. Especially in a place like the Hive. Hell, he wanted to skip anything related to passing through the cultural sector, since it's heavily decorated with lights and everything Christmas. A holiday of joy and cheer, apparently, but a certain disgruntled Tagged was feeling none of those. But he would have to, if he wanted something to wear tomorrow and the next day after that. One person came to mind to lend him a hand, a person who would probably know their way around with stores.
Popping out his cellphone, Nicolas heaved a sigh as he searched for her number, composing a brief text. A very brief text.
TO: The Woman
FROM: Nicolas Brown
