Meeting People

Professor Monday went for a walk. It's what he usually did when he couldn't sleep, or when the drugs that normally allowed him his usual dreamless and black sleep wore off. Today was one of those occasions that he had run out of Desflurane and was left to his own devices. So he strolled, Anna upon his shoulder, mumbling to her all the way. Anna herself was content to be walked around, as she never really got much sleep anyway. She also didn't like being in her cage for too long, because it made her feel uncomfortable for some reason that was beyond her current ability to explain or remember.

So they went, Monday's cane and mumbling echoing in the otherwise empty hall. He spoke to Anna of many things; of politics, of science, and even sometimes he would explain to her a bit about psychology and the mysteries of the human mind. Being a raven, Anna couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, save for the commands that she was taught, but she felt a strange sense of comfort from these talks anyway.

This was a time of exploration for the two of them as well. Site-19 was a large complex and often times Monday would find himself in the bathroom when he wanted to be at the motor-pool. These walks allowed him to commit some of the passageways to memory and find some new ones, so that's just what he did when he turned the corner of hallway B-9 and found himself in the brig.

It wasn't a terribly large room. There were few cells there, and a desk where the on-duty guard was sleeping. The entire affair was a bleak and concrete gray, which Monday thought to be perfect for somewhere so unpleasant. He clacked his way into the room noisily, as he was unconscious of how much noise he was making due to his terrible hearing. Anna cawed a bit as well, most likely commenting on the oppressive nature of the room. Despite the noise, the on-duty guard didn't stir.

A hulking figure in one of the cells, however, did.

"[This rather dreary room, Anna, is called the 'brig'. It is where the criminals go.]" He commented in German. The bird upon his shoulder cawed, which was her only response to anything. The old professor smiled and stroked her head sadly as he stood, peering at the cells.

"Oi." A rude, cockney voice came from behind, "Who the fuck are you?"

Monday, startled, turned about quickly to the source, only to be faced with a large man lying on a cot glaring at him. His face was covered with scars and he seemed to have been recently been in a fight, judging from the blood on his upper lip.

"Oh… I am sorry Mein Herr, I was simply-" He started, before the large man cut him off.

"You a kraut?" The man asked sharply, sitting up.

"Er… I am German, ja." Monday responded uncertainty, shifting his cane uncomfortably.

The hulking man stared at him distastefully, his brow furrowing. He was silent for a while, quietly studying the old man in front of him. He crossed his arms and began to chuckle, which unnerved Monday to no end. Even Anna was a bit frightened.

"So I guess I gotta get used ta this then, eh?" The large man finally proclaimed, "This place is just fulla krauts, ain't it?"

"I'm not sure that-" Monday started, before he was cut off again.

"First an angry one wit' the crossbow, and now we gots an old bloke." He chuckled even harder, "Did I join the bloody Were-mocked or what?"

"Were-mocked?" Monday blinked, "You mean Wehrmacht?"

"You getting smart wit' me?" The man responded, his tone suddenly severe, "I'll bash your fuckin' head in, you get smart wit' me."

"I… er… am sorry?" The Professor was as confused as ever. He concluded that this man had serious mental problems. Perhaps an anger disorder.

"Yea… just keep it down. I can't sleep wit' your fuckin' cane clackin' all over the fuckin' ground, got it?"

"Um… Ja?"

"Good. And put that birdy in a cage. It's gonna get shit everywhere."

Billy rolled onto his lumpy cot once more as the little German man stepped out of the brig, the sound of the cane against the concrete floor getting more and more distant. He didn't quite feel satisfied with how that turned out, but he was too tired to really argue with anyone, even Jerries, as he called them. He was a proud British soldier, he thought, and he needed his rest; especially after how today went.

He had a singular thought as he fell asleep;

~Ain't gonna see me and that old bloke in the same room, that's for fuckin' sure.~

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