The deep sense of foreboding Sam had been feeling the night before had not vanished with the abrupt-as-ever coming of the morning. The prospect of venturing outside of the Institute's walls did little to banish it; while on the on hand he was hopeful that there would be an opportunity to make a break for it, on the other he was certain that such a thing would be far easier said than done. Warped as this place was, there had to be a reason that the chains were being loosened even this much. Still, there would at least be a chance to get the lay of the land around the asylum, and he was hopeful of finding some piece of information that would narrow down the place's location to something usable.
At least the street clothing they'd given him - slightly faded jeans, a hooded sweatshirt in a shade of brownish-green he neither could nor cared to name, and a pair of running shoes - would not stand out terribly in most places if he did manage to slip away.
If he could just get to a phone...but perhaps that was thinking too far ahead.
His mind still chasing itself 'round in circles, Sam clambered onto the bus. He made his way past the midpoint of the aisle, far enough back to minimize the number of people who would be behind him, but not so far as to make it obvious, and settled into a window seat. His gaze roamed over the others on the bus briefly, noting the lack of familiar faces, before settling on the view outside the bus. His expression was abstracted, giving no hint as to just how much of what he saw was actually being internalized.
no subject
The deep sense of foreboding Sam had been feeling the night before had not vanished with the abrupt-as-ever coming of the morning. The prospect of venturing outside of the Institute's walls did little to banish it; while on the on hand he was hopeful that there would be an opportunity to make a break for it, on the other he was certain that such a thing would be far easier said than done. Warped as this place was, there had to be a reason that the chains were being loosened even this much. Still, there would at least be a chance to get the lay of the land around the asylum, and he was hopeful of finding some piece of information that would narrow down the place's location to something usable.
At least the street clothing they'd given him - slightly faded jeans, a hooded sweatshirt in a shade of brownish-green he neither could nor cared to name, and a pair of running shoes - would not stand out terribly in most places if he did manage to slip away.
If he could just get to a phone...but perhaps that was thinking too far ahead.
His mind still chasing itself 'round in circles, Sam clambered onto the bus. He made his way past the midpoint of the aisle, far enough back to minimize the number of people who would be behind him, but not so far as to make it obvious, and settled into a window seat. His gaze roamed over the others on the bus briefly, noting the lack of familiar faces, before settling on the view outside the bus. His expression was abstracted, giving no hint as to just how much of what he saw was actually being internalized.