The Twenty-Ninth Day of Dark: 8:00 AM: LOG 0028

The place is quaint. A standard, central square bar with stools surrounding it. Small tables are scattered about the rest of the room, and stairs lead to a restaurant upstairs. From what you've seen, the place upstairs is a more formal affair than a standard-issue bar. Not that you care. With Dave, you're not going there, anyhow. With your wallet, you'd be kicked out even if you did get up there. You never much enjoyed fancy food, anyhow. Too stuffy. Too cocky. Too little.

"Nothing?" Dave frowns and sips at his hot chocolate. After his last brush with alcohol, you've banned him from consuming it. Rose has also advised you to do as much, citing genetics. You're not entirely sure what that means, but it seems that he's got an addictive personality. That must mean something.

Rose, too, seems to avoid alcohol. However, she prefers coffee. "Nope," she says. "We've got nothing. Kanaya?"

Kanaya agrees. "Nothing."

You purse your lips. Nothing will come from you. Nothing.

"Well, then, I'll just have to start looking." After downing a massive gulp of hot chocolate, Dave slams his cup onto the table. Not enough is left to produce a dramatic splash, but the dull clop it creates is effective. "I've heard rumors that the prison system here is fucked up. Lots of little groupings of cells all around the city instead of a massive prison."

Rose nods. "Yes. It seems to be an experimental setup. The theory is that separating prisoners dramatically reduces the risk of collective uprisings. From the history books, it seems that the system works."

The Twenty-Ninth Day of Dark: 10:00 AM: LOG 0029

It's not exactly like you like this job. You didn't sign up to squat in a cold alleyway, trying to use a dying cigarette lighter for warmth. Fuck blankets. Where the hell're you supposed to get those? Nowhere. Nowhere around here, anyhow. You can't afford them and no one would sell them to you. Your goddamned face is already on posters plastered all over town. "Wanted for assaulting a uniformed officer!" That's a fucking great way to end the biggest hit of your career.

You can't even smoke a nice cigarette. It's too damp, and Dave complains about the smoke.

"So... You sure made a splash here, right?" Dave mutters, snickering at his own joke.

"It's nice to see someone enjoying my fucking massive mistake," you huff, arms folded across your chest. "Here's an idea! Why don't we just not talk about it?"

In hindsight, you'd probably feel a whole lot better if you'd just told Dave the truth in the first place, but it's too late for that now. So, instead, you refuse to meet his gaze as you rub your hands together. "Fucking freezing out here."

"Never noticed," hums Dave.

"Don't be a smartass."

"I'll keep your advice in mind for later, pal."

"Whatever." You roll your eyes and fold your arms across your chest. "If we leave him alone long enough, won't John break out on his own?"

"John's not going to break out," Dave laughs. Apparently, your suggestion is the best joke of the night. You're almost honored to be the impetus for so much inexplicable joy. "No offense against John, but he's not the brightest LED in the box. He's creative, though. He's got that going for him."

"I guess that's something." You breathe a long, heavy sigh and kick at some of the snow on the ground. Beneath is solid ice. You're truly amazed that you haven't slipped and broken something by now. Alternia is a warm planet; you don't take well to ice and snow. Sure, you enjoy it, but you're not that graceful on it. "Well, he's probably fine for now."

"Oh, yeah. He's definitely fine now. The point is trying to get him before he's not fine, you deflated blimp."

"True." You nod. "So, what? I guess we start looking?"

"Mhm."