Spam for Harvey

[velocette]

[It had been an okay weekend, overall. He's not a fan of the ocean, and LA had changed dramatically from the last time he'd been there. But the bikes handled the same. He hadn't heard a thing in over a day, which wasn't unusual, but some sounds trickled back in by the time he got back to the Barge.

It wasn't until he got to his cabin and found Plato's Republic sitting open that he remembered Harvey. He grabbed a notebook and a pencil, a pack of cigarettes and his lighter, and headed over to his inmate's cabin.]

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[halftheman]

[ Harvey was back in his cabin; he'd unpacked his bag, put away his new clothes, broken out the bottom of his wardrobe a bit, one plank, to put his new guns and ammo under, along with their holster. He felt better about having them there, a waiting safety. Just a pair of semi-automatic .22 pistols; his obsession showed, but a well placed .22 would kill a man just as well as a shoddily placed 9mm... and Harvey was very good at placing his shots. ]

[ He had returned to his desk to read when he heard the Boy at his door. He got up, putting his book down (this one on Deaf Culture in America) and opened the door. ]

See you made it back, Warden.