A quiet lunch had followed his morning with Nunnally, providing a short interlude in which Lunge could gather his thoughts together. The slip-up had been unacceptable, of course; a natural outcome of the culmination of three day's worth of carefully aimed attacks, perhaps, but unacceptable nonetheless. Progress demanded strict separation of the personal and professional. How else would he get anywhere if he didn't follow that code?
But anyway. His nurse, seemingly delighted with his 'work' that morning, had decided that another trip to the Arts and Crafts room would do him good. He didn't argue; the majority of the adult patients would be in there while the younger half showered and made use of the Sun Room. Perhaps he could find Jones, or L, especially since they still needed to decide on a plan of action for future basement attempts now that it was clear that they'd either have to only try on nights without special counseling patients around or plan an alternate route- through the courtyard, maybe? But who knew what they might station outside?
Neither of them seemed to be around when he arrived, anyway, but it wasn't long before he spotted a familiar blond man- sitting alone was Morgan, now with one (no, two) of his nails filled in with black. To be honest, Lunge was simply surprised that he hadn't turned his attentions onto his surroundings instead; he'd struck him as the sort to leave his initials scraped into table- and chair-legs as an opportunistic mark of protest.
The last time they'd spoken had been in the wake of both of their 'sessions', in Doyleton. Part of him wanted to ask after Mello's experiences, find out if he had indeed spoken to Javert yet, but he restrained the urge to leap straight in. Without any comment on his handiwork, Lunge headed to the empty seat across from the younger man, nodding briefly- he didn't suppose he'd need permission this time- and sat down. "Morgan. Have you made any progress since we last spoke?" A nice, general conversation starter. He'd let Morgan lead for now.
no subject
But anyway. His nurse, seemingly delighted with his 'work' that morning, had decided that another trip to the Arts and Crafts room would do him good. He didn't argue; the majority of the adult patients would be in there while the younger half showered and made use of the Sun Room. Perhaps he could find Jones, or L, especially since they still needed to decide on a plan of action for future basement attempts now that it was clear that they'd either have to only try on nights without special counseling patients around or plan an alternate route- through the courtyard, maybe? But who knew what they might station outside?
Neither of them seemed to be around when he arrived, anyway, but it wasn't long before he spotted a familiar blond man- sitting alone was Morgan, now with one (no, two) of his nails filled in with black. To be honest, Lunge was simply surprised that he hadn't turned his attentions onto his surroundings instead; he'd struck him as the sort to leave his initials scraped into table- and chair-legs as an opportunistic mark of protest.
The last time they'd spoken had been in the wake of both of their 'sessions', in Doyleton. Part of him wanted to ask after Mello's experiences, find out if he had indeed spoken to Javert yet, but he restrained the urge to leap straight in. Without any comment on his handiwork, Lunge headed to the empty seat across from the younger man, nodding briefly- he didn't suppose he'd need permission this time- and sat down. "Morgan. Have you made any progress since we last spoke?" A nice, general conversation starter. He'd let Morgan lead for now.