Office #26, Monday

You had good days, and you had bad days, in Mitchell's position. Saturday had been a good, if baffling day.

Monday wasn't as good.

He made it to his office regardless of anything going on (wouldn't mess this one up), but he kept mostly to his seat, staring holes into the wall beside the door. Whether it was the memories running stronger than usual or some surge of bloodlust he was having trouble surpressing, something kept him in that suspended state of-- brooding, of thinking, of trying to keep the dark things away, to focus on the light spots that dragged any being through what horrors life might occasionally cast at them.

Mitchell, unlike some people he knew, was not a glass-half-empty kind of man, so he endured.

Life settles. That's the one thing you can rely on. Sometimes it gets shaken and it seems like there's no end to this vast-- tornado, these endless forces of chaos, and yet it always-- settles again.

[[ the post, however, is open, as is the door, and he will totally try to cheerful it up for you ]]