Mɪᴛᴄʜᴇʟʟ Hᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
viced) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-04-20 07:21 pm
viced) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-04-20 07:21 pm
He was tired of being poor and he wasn't into selling door to door
WHO: TERRY and MITCHELL
WHERE: UH probably eventually somewhere secluded but to start out with, let's go with the park
WHEN: today.
WHAT: Mitch and Terry are going to be human disasters.
WARNINGS: drug use.
Mitchell Hundred didn't subscribe to certain things, like the importance of dates. He didn't really care one way or the other, but there were some things that the former Mayor needed, in a certain way, and when a deal happened, a deal happened. He couldn't afford to be as picky these days as he did back when he was running the City, or as Vice President, or any of the number of things that he should be doing right now. It was almost depressing, when he thought about it at length, which was why he was trying not to. Spare moments were too easy to find in this new world, and Mitchell struggled to do something else, to make sure that he filled every moment as best he could.
And in the midafternoon, he was walking through the park, hands shoved into his pockets, that familiar thread of anticipation and fear rushing through him. Here, he didn't have the power that he had back home. Going out, in the middle of the night, to the person he trusted to slide them cash and receive something in return was an exchange that he was familiar with, and the comfort that if it were to be caught, he could sweep it under the rug, if he absolutely had to, and if not, use it as a platform position. Mitchell Hundred, after all, had certain a need to cover all bases, have several plans of potential attack, and was the kind of person whol would absolutely make sure that there was little chance of being caught.
Here, there was still the medical need, the secret medical need, the one that he didn't talk about -- but there wasn't the power. He couldn't just get a prescription, and even so, he never would have. Those were too easy to find, and he couldn't have that.
So he had to skulk, with that promise pounding at his back, reminding him that if he was suspicious, he was in trouble. His steps were brisk, as he walked across the park, light jacket to cut the wind only, the pockets enough to at least keep his hands (and their contents) hidden. Ballcap to cover his head, while he walked, just the right pace, too slow to be rushed, but too quick to be without purpose.
He was really hoping he could just make it home with no interruptions, the more interruptions, the higher the chances for --
Well
He just had to keep walking.
WHERE: UH probably eventually somewhere secluded but to start out with, let's go with the park
WHEN: today.
WHAT: Mitch and Terry are going to be human disasters.
WARNINGS: drug use.
Mitchell Hundred didn't subscribe to certain things, like the importance of dates. He didn't really care one way or the other, but there were some things that the former Mayor needed, in a certain way, and when a deal happened, a deal happened. He couldn't afford to be as picky these days as he did back when he was running the City, or as Vice President, or any of the number of things that he should be doing right now. It was almost depressing, when he thought about it at length, which was why he was trying not to. Spare moments were too easy to find in this new world, and Mitchell struggled to do something else, to make sure that he filled every moment as best he could.
And in the midafternoon, he was walking through the park, hands shoved into his pockets, that familiar thread of anticipation and fear rushing through him. Here, he didn't have the power that he had back home. Going out, in the middle of the night, to the person he trusted to slide them cash and receive something in return was an exchange that he was familiar with, and the comfort that if it were to be caught, he could sweep it under the rug, if he absolutely had to, and if not, use it as a platform position. Mitchell Hundred, after all, had certain a need to cover all bases, have several plans of potential attack, and was the kind of person whol would absolutely make sure that there was little chance of being caught.
Here, there was still the medical need, the secret medical need, the one that he didn't talk about -- but there wasn't the power. He couldn't just get a prescription, and even so, he never would have. Those were too easy to find, and he couldn't have that.
So he had to skulk, with that promise pounding at his back, reminding him that if he was suspicious, he was in trouble. His steps were brisk, as he walked across the park, light jacket to cut the wind only, the pockets enough to at least keep his hands (and their contents) hidden. Ballcap to cover his head, while he walked, just the right pace, too slow to be rushed, but too quick to be without purpose.
He was really hoping he could just make it home with no interruptions, the more interruptions, the higher the chances for --
Well
He just had to keep walking.