(no subject)
WHO: Mitchell Hundred and Edward Nygma
WHERE: Mitch's CAMPAIGN BUILDING
WHEN: Saturday night
WARNINGS: Nah
SUMMARY: Meettings!
FORMAT: Prose I think!
Mitch was lounging in his seat, in his small little campaign headquarters. He'd managed to get up enough to rent a dingy little room, his hands steepled as he propped his feet up on the desk.
"Ah, fuck," he muttered, pulling a bright green gun from his desk and looking at it.
Why he hell had he even built it? Hell, why was he even here? He shoved it back in his drawer, and went back to staring at the ceiling, listening to the lights buzz and talk to him.
He really hated weekends.
WHERE: Mitch's CAMPAIGN BUILDING
WHEN: Saturday night
WARNINGS: Nah
SUMMARY: Meettings!
FORMAT: Prose I think!
Mitch was lounging in his seat, in his small little campaign headquarters. He'd managed to get up enough to rent a dingy little room, his hands steepled as he propped his feet up on the desk.
"Ah, fuck," he muttered, pulling a bright green gun from his desk and looking at it.
Why he hell had he even built it? Hell, why was he even here? He shoved it back in his drawer, and went back to staring at the ceiling, listening to the lights buzz and talk to him.
He really hated weekends.