He stared, long and hard at the TV.  Shit.<em>Their's a pattern to this. </em>He seemed to be completely out of it, buried deep in his thoughts. Life was full of patterns, and he did his best to try and see them, try to figure out how everything worked.  This was not an easy task.<br/><br/>It took right up until he smelled the aroma of his drink being set before him to snap him out of whatever thoughts he was preoccupied with. When he did snap out of it, he offered  Al a weak smile. "Thanks." He said, somewhat distractedly. Unlike most people here, he didn't call her doll/cutey/babe/insert-your-own-degrading-compliment-here. He never did that to anyone.<br/><br/>He seemed to mentally retreat into his own little world, once more, however. Something had to be done. The police...they probably knew about the pattern, but were choosing not to report it so people didn't freak out. But would they actually do anything about it? As time went on, he had greatly lost confidence in their ability to do anything besides hand out tickets to people.<br/><br/>Something had to be done. Maybe, when the time came, he'd find himself out there, and he'd put a stop to it all. End the pattern. But that, he chastised himself, was reckless. What good would it do to get himself killed? He hadn't a clue of what it could be, or how many of 'it' could be there. Was it one, or a dozen? Was it some psychopathic human, or something far, far worse?<br/><br/>With no information of what it could possibly be, he saw running in as a suicidal gambit. He found himself in a situation he's been in before: wanting so very much to be able to do something, but not having the power (or, in this case, the knowledge) to actually do anything worthwhile.<br/><br/>He sighed heavily, and seemed to forget about what company he had had with him, and just drank, his expression bleak. He couldn't even enjoy the After Dinner Mint now; he just didn't want to waste it.<br/><br/>...Wait, what the hell was Jason saying? He nearly spat out his drink when he heard the man talk, but managed to swallow it. He snorted derisively, though. "  Looks like you're not big on subtlety, are you?" He gave a shake of his head. The way he was talking, he sounded like some hot shot hunter who thought he was Rambo.  An attitude he's seen before, and one he despises.