Mitchell turned the little blue disk over in his hands. It was encased in plastic, and still smelled like the rubbish bin he'd taken it out of in the short few minutes before his portal arrived.

He shouldn't have it. He should've just left it to rot there.

But a part of him? That part he'd claimed to have forsaken for humanity? It didn't-- he couldn't.

He studied it until the bored server set down his coffee and muttered something about milk and dollar prices, and then he set it aside, took his drink, and sipped from it as he stared out the window. Lauren. The blood. Somewhere out there--

Why did things always have to get complicated?

[[ around for a few hours! open! ]]