Wednesday Morning: NYC

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

Marty tugged on his shirt slightly as he approached the medical clinic. He had practically had to tie Angela up in the hotel room once she heard what he intended to do, but unfortunately there really wasn't any other way around it. He took a deep breath and pushed on the door and entered the empty waiting room, which was playing a muzak version of an old James Bund song from the 70's. A mother and a daughter sat in the corner playing together quietly as Marty approached the front desk.

( And then there was gunfire... )

[ooc: Preplayed again with the ever-so-wonderful chasingangela. NFI but OOC comments are given pie. And coffee. Maybe ice cream if you ask nicely]

A Hotel Room, New York, Wednesday Afternoon

[chasingangela]

There were exactly 216 chrysanthemums on the bedspread. 215, if she didn't count the mutant one in one corner.

Angela knew this because the time she spent waiting for Marty to get back was the longest of her life, and, after pacing, counting was the only thing she could find to do.

She could not believe she had let him go on his own. Even after he called, she was still worried. It wasn't as though he had said much on the phone.

( Prepare for rampaging teal deer )

[OOC: Preplayed with oatmanspatient, not in a pretty table because I AM JUST THAT LAZY. Also? Now we're done spamming you. NFI, NFB, OOC is still love.]