[Sadrain]

December 4th, Chicago. Base.

Ryan felt nearly startled when her hand touched his, and he broke his stare at Amante, to see how Alice motioned the man to leave. What was just as surprising was that he did leave. So, there had to be something between them, something that made Amante look so rejected and hurt by this little thing. And, yet, Alice had chosen him, not Amante whom she might know for so longer, who could be her ex-boyfriend, who...

Ryan looked at Alice, and seeing her frown, hung head down. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. She was displeased with his little display, apparently, and it was understandable. Alice had seen only nice side of him, but there was so much he had done and experienced that made him so different from the heroic types. Anger, jealousy even, unexplained dislike, not controlling his emotions... All of that was what he took from streets, not gentleman like at all.

"I am not a good guy, you know," he told her, in serious manner and then sighed softly. "But thank you." He squeezed her hand in return, and then, with still heavy heart, returned to the story reading, trying to pretend nothing had happened, and he hadn't been just reminded that despite wish to protect Alice's peace, he was just a street rat in his actions after all.

December 5th, Chicago. Sewer #17.

Aiolia had offered to take Amante back in The Cat, so he didn't have to walk all the way back. She was on her way to Surface and it was no problem to take him along. The girl looked tired and weary, she tried to hide the fact she was sometime limping when exhausted. Aiolia wasn't exactly the chat all the time, but now she was even more quiet. Few times it seemed she wanted to say or ask something, but she never said it.

Aiolia wished him good luck and good day, when Amante got out, and then disappeared into the sewer shadows. It was hard to tell if Leila's shadows had already come home before, or tagged along with the car. Their mistress however, was nowhere around, not even in her tent, despite the fact it was night, or maybe early morning.

Leila had found a nice, clean niche, some distance from the outpost, above the regular sewer floor level in which she now sat and observed her surroundings. It felt safer, more distanced from people than her tent, and if not for the mission, Leila would surely move it to here. The Shadow mission had went well and she had nearly finished the map path to Base. But with it, she was also growing more restless, wanting this all over quicker, and it showed in attitude. Now no one at the outpost really dared to bother her, because her glare sent chills down their spines.