It took a bit longer than he would have liked to get back to his room. The mess exactly as he had left it earlier that day. Maybe it was the intense surgery and meeting all these people, but the room seemed stale; a little too much like home.<br/><br/>Simon grumbled, walking over to the record player he kept safely under his desk, and started up the only<a class="externalLink" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BOeUzwRCMw" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">record</a>he had. The ensemble was the only luxury item he owned. He gave half his earnings to the Followers of the Apocalypse, and what was left went to the basic necessities. But when a scavenger showed him the music, well ...<br/><br/>He let the music play for a bit before reaching for his bottle of ...<br/><br/>Where the fuck did the wine go?<br/><br/>It was supposed to be right here, under the bedroll like always. Who could have moved it?! It was no use at this point, if he ever lost something it often ended up being gone for a time just short of forever. It would do him better to cut his losses and make his way for greener pastures.<br/><br/>He made his way back out of his office, heading down the rooms.<br/><br/>Passing by one with someone crying inside.<br/><br/>He contemplated asking if anything was wrong.<br/><br/><i> Remember the last time you did that Simon?</i><br/><br/>The screams and explosions of the event gently rocked over his senses like a wave from the Californian ocean. Or how he assumed those things worked.<br/><br/>He decided on ignoring whoever it was and moving on.<br/><br/>He made his way out onto the casino floor, his coat making him stand out like a sore thumb as he made his way over to the bar.<br/><br/>"Usual; glass of wine. Whenever you have the chance."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>