Bad Guys Only

[pugsmuggler]

Vercelli sat in the east wing's reception room. He had half of a burrito in his hand that he holding in a fold of tin foil. It looked hard as a rock, and he'd probably plucked it straight from the fridge before heading out of his bunk room. He idly tinkered with his watch, occasionally taking a bit out of the brick-like wrap. Once a good few minutes had passed, he glanced up at the seat across from him where Quelorie occupied a spot.

"The hell is keeping Joel? He called us in here a good thirty minutes ago," he said.