Someone walks into the Institute, glancing around the entrance. The front desk does not hold a face he recognizes anymore, but he tries not to grimace at that fact, instead keeping his expression schooled and level, which ends up making him look a little cold, maybe even a little threatening.
He wears black, thick plants that flare at the bottom just enough to make his legs look a tad longer than they really are. A deep blue dress shirt with white fine lines, crossed over to form a pattern that reminds of the bottom of a pool, sits nest tugged into the waistline on top. His shoes are shiny, slightly banged up dock martens with the yellow stitching along the side of the sole and his dark blonde hair that faded into a hazy white was half tied up into a bun, the rest below it cascading down his back in gentle waves like a waterfall plummeting into the clouds.
His shirt is shirt sleeved, ending in wide cut cuffs just above his elbows, chest beneath bound tight to appear as flat as he could make it.
Right. He was here for a reason. Sort of, anyway. Now that he knew that... Someone, was actually real and here, he had some investigating to do, and what better place than the Institute.
He'd tried to avoid this place for the most part, safe for that one time, and then Eli...but still. He'd sworn off visits if he could help it.
Problem was he couldn't help it any longer.
Thus, he strided down the path to where he knew the archive would be, quiet on his feet.
He was hoping to catch...who, out of the bunch, would be the best for this? He wasn't sure, really. But he supposed either Jon or Sasha would do best, if he was lucky. Neither would believe and stories he told, most likely, and he wasn't intending on getting any of the crew involved in this business too early, but he did also want to ensure that the story he knew did not play out as it did for him. If that was something he could control at all, that is. He doesn't know.
Still. A hint. A warning. Maybe two or three, were in order in his opinion. That, and he needed some files...
He takes a sharp turn around the corner without checking first.
@pleiades-cabin-talk (hii! I've come to pester you...hehehe don't feel pressured to match my length!)
[It's not often that Sasha finds herself lost in thought-- but today has been rather uneventful, and with so much filing and organizing to do, it's easy for her mind to wander from the monotony of her work onto more engaging topics, such as whether to invite the others out for drinks today, or what she's going to wear to the annual Institute Christmas party. She's completely spaced out when she rounds that corner; it's not surprising that she collides with the newcomer, barely keeping her box of files in her grasp as she staggers back. She yelps in surprise.]
AH-- oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there! Are you okay?
[She examines him curiously, as if she can discern their intentions just from looking. Maybe he's a statement giver..?]
