Snippet #1282751

"Hmm..." Vermillion rummaged through the mini-fridge in the darkness, feeling around for something to quench the burning dryness in his throat. "Empty blood vial, spoiled milk, purple stuff...oh sweet! Sunny D!" with an unecessary flourish he uncapped the jug and quickly drained the orange juice. It was cool and relieving going down. Feeling it was...strange, to say the least. It had been too long since he'd actually felt all of the side-effects of dehydration instead of keeling over after a bout of vertigo. More amazing still, was how good it felt to have the pain alleviated. Remembering the meeting that was supposed to take place in a few minutes, Vermillion set to work with grooming himself. Showering, brushing teeth, combing hair and slipping into a uniform of his very own. He hadn't worn the thing in a while and the black shirt was a bit snug on his chest, but it was the most professional garb he owned. Black shirt, black pants, black boots. Sexy.

Preparations complete, he made his way through the halls and entered the elevator. He found it odd that there were no other agents in the vicinity, but quickly lost his train of thought when a sharp pain flared up in his ribs. He placed a hand on the spot where the bandages covered a slash under his shirt. Pain really was quite a bother. It was a wonder how others lived with it on a day to day basis. Hell, it was a wonder how Vermillion himself had lived with it before his days in LIMIT.

That little fop of a man--Nile's, he remembered--was waiting just outside of the elevator. Vermillion waved the man along and muttered that he understood where to be and what to do.

"Good morning sir." he said, stepping into Spectrum's office. Vermillion wore a stern mask and stood erect, keeping his arms at his side in a deferring stance. "Agent Vermillion reporting as requested."

Casting a sideways glance at Citrine, he continued. "I take it that commander Citrine has already given you a full report. I'm ready to accept any punishment you deem adequate sir." Vermillion stared, his face expressionless, at the head of LIMIT. If anything, he wasn't going to show weakness. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

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With an overly loud sigh Arsenic leaned back on the couch, allowing her arms to hang over the back. "I'm gon'na kill that bitch."