[This assignment, it's lousy. There's too much waiting around and skulking about and keeping quietly out of sight and it's not the kind of thing he excels at, all this sitting on his hands. He understands the reasons for it (no one wants to be overtly confronted by the murder squad at a peace summit of all places), knows how to be subtle and silent and unseen, but there's still a significant part of him that hopes shit will hit the fan, that he'll be needed for something other than frequent security sweeps and covert listening in.
And speaking of security sweeps, that's what he's engaged in right now. Again. He finds himself being sent out on them more often than is strictly necessary, sometimes just to get him out from underneath Sui Feng's feet or to shake loose the dangerous restlessness that builds up in him whenever he has to remain inactive for too long. And perhaps this is a good thing, perhaps this is what he needs right now, something sedate after all the chaos of the riots and the hollowed-out madness it had caused in him. But that doesn't mean he has to like it.
He's been sent off with a Handler on this sweep, the woman assigned to him just a few corridors away but close enough to catch up soon-- he's being watched a little more closely right now (which is to say, he's barely let out of the sight of someone positioned above him) in the wake of the riots incident, and it's just one more thing that skitters and slides beneath his skin like the movement or tiny ants.
As things stand, he's not exactly feeling chipper. So when he rounds a corner and comes face to face with a certain killjoy (he'd thought he'd caught a familiar scent of flowers and metal and blood), he almost turns on his heel and goes back the way he came. Almost.]
W6D4 let's say? - Kanda
And speaking of security sweeps, that's what he's engaged in right now. Again. He finds himself being sent out on them more often than is strictly necessary, sometimes just to get him out from underneath Sui Feng's feet or to shake loose the dangerous restlessness that builds up in him whenever he has to remain inactive for too long. And perhaps this is a good thing, perhaps this is what he needs right now, something sedate after all the chaos of the riots and the hollowed-out madness it had caused in him. But that doesn't mean he has to like it.
He's been sent off with a Handler on this sweep, the woman assigned to him just a few corridors away but close enough to catch up soon-- he's being watched a little more closely right now (which is to say, he's barely let out of the sight of someone positioned above him) in the wake of the riots incident, and it's just one more thing that skitters and slides beneath his skin like the movement or tiny ants.
As things stand, he's not exactly feeling chipper. So when he rounds a corner and comes face to face with a certain killjoy (he'd thought he'd caught a familiar scent of flowers and metal and blood), he almost turns on his heel and goes back the way he came. Almost.]