Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20170211223504/@comment-5543592-20170212223941

Jack awoke to being dragged across the floor, the sunlight shining on his face. He tried to shield his eyes and rolled over, savoring his beauty sleep. When he finally came to and realized Wilkes had control of the principal's office, he scurried away, not wanting to end up in a confrontation with the man again.

Randall had found himself a hideaway to sleep in, since he didn't trust people to know where he actually slept, and crawled back into the light of day. Randall took a long look around, and dropped his goggles over his eyes. Randall had excellent night vision, the work of a prison surgeon, but at the cost of a sensitivity to light.

He retrieved his recently crafted daggers, which he'd stayed up most of the night to finish, with their bone grips and steel blades, and slid them into the sheaths on his hips. He ran his hands over their handles for a few moments, their familiar weight a comfort. He returned to his den and went about his business, lounging or pulling one of his daggers free and testing it. He'd have to add more to the lair later, whenever he got the supplies to do.