Raylan Elisha Wilcox
Location: Warehouse to Institute
Everyone in the meeting room.
Raylan limped in the front door. He was caked in blood, mud and who knows what else. His jeans went from a lovely faded blue to a horrid mix of white sand and dark blood as did his boots. His body is heavily covered it was hard to make out his tattoos. His head was still bleeding from a gash... Somewhere on his dead. He wasn't sure where it was, all that he was, was wet and in pain. He quite frankly looked his worst and given his habits, that was saying a lot.
He ached with every step, each more painful the last. He wondered how he made it, he made it home when... Hell he didn't know if the men he disagreed with were even alive. Right now he didn't care, but he knew that when he left, there some moans and groans. Somebody had to be alive right?
Raylan dragged himself to the kitchen. He wanted water, in the worst way possible. He didn't even bother with the glass as he held his under the water faucet. As the water rushed over his head he couldn't help but rub his face. It was more painful than he thought it could be, the amount of grit rubbing against his was horrible.
He chuckled when he saw the blood runs down the drain. He couldn't help but wonder if it was his or not. When he had his fill of that heaven sent liquid that some call water, he thought about what he needed to do next. A stiff swallow of bourbon and a meeting with Frank was in order. A pull from the bottle was the first order of business.
When he got to one of his hiding places and tool that drink, he couldn't help but feel utterly relaxed. He needed this one. Not in the he normally wanted to. He was shocked at what happened, he was always up for a fight, he loved fighting. He felt at home fighting, it's what he was used to, what he knew the best. Even still, this was the worst fights he had ever been in. It was the screams that hurt the most. Those blood crudling screams.
He looked at the bottle for a second. Wanting nothing
than to drain it, but this wasn't the time for it. He had much more important things to do. As he placed the bottle back into its hiding spot. He couldn't remember the last time he didn't finish a bottle he stated. Maybe he was changing.
Raylan's first stop was the basement. It was the best place to look for Frank, or the best place to look for Frank and pass out when he couldn't find him.
It was luck that Raylan stumbled into the meeting room. He was hoping he was going to be able to pass out somewhere and get some rest before having to deal with this shit. He had to deal with this now, there was going. Why didn't he just finish that damn bottle? If there was any saving grace to any of this, he only had one drink.
As he looked around the room, Raylan wonder what was going on. Something was off about this meeting but Raylan couldn't put his finger it. There's new people, was this an introduction meeting or something? It was an odd moment for Raylan, he didn't really know what to say about how he looked or what happened. If the truth were known, he was too tired and hurt to give a damn. "... Uh... Frank, I had a little accident."Raylan said trying to stand up straight. He wished it was the one pull from the bottle that caused his stagger.