song_tra_bong: (look back)
[ooc: from here]

Up two flights of stairs and a sharp right turn brings them to room M16. Mary Anne unlocks the door and gestures grandly inside.

"The accomadations, my dear."

It's a simple room, all told--bed, dresser, night stand and little else. A small pile of books stands beside the bed; a duffle bag lies half-unpacked before the closet doors; another door leads to the adjoining bathroom. Still, there's the faint sense that someone calls it home.
song_tra_bong: (if i die in a combat zone)
They head north for a while, finding nothing particular but silence and trees and room to wander. Soon enough, the light begins to fade and they head back towards the site of their earlier skirmish. For an ambush point, then end up settling on the set of trees their runner had made for earlier; they do make excellent cover.

Mary Anne leans back against a trunk, checking her knives in preparation. She is looking forward to using her newest.
song_tra_bong: (shoulder strap)
They haven't been walking for too long when the rain finally begins to lessen. Mary Anne doesn't wait for it to stop, just yanks the suffocating poncho off and stuffs it halfway into her bag. She'd rather be slightly wet than spend any more time in that oversized garbage bag.

She sighs in relief and pauses to reorient herself. She thinks there may be something off to the north-east, but with the rain still falling it's hard to tell. Could just be water in the leaves. Maybe something else.

She puts it to the back of her mind, turning instead to face Fiona. "How do you like it so far?"


song_tra_bong: (Default)
Mary Anne Bell

February 2010



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