[ Right where he left him the first time, corridor fourteen is very quiet, Up in the dark rafters of the corridor, there's been some reconstruction, but one would have to be looking straight up (or be a telepath of even dimly erratic ability) to notice anything strange. Metal repurposed to cling to architecture like a second skin.
The door slides open. Charles is dimly just rolled out of bed in affect despite the swiftness of his reply -- sleepless in contrast to too much sleep.
Inside, the same clutter, in different configurations. The acrid layer of cigarette smoke has gone, mostly because he ran out. A datapad has been tossed aside, screen dimming around the scroll of text, and the wheelchair he'd squirreled out of the medical bay is collapsed to a vertical fold, leaning against the end of a bed.
no subject
The door slides open. Charles is dimly just rolled out of bed in affect despite the swiftness of his reply -- sleepless in contrast to too much sleep.
Inside, the same clutter, in different configurations. The acrid layer of cigarette smoke has gone, mostly because he ran out. A datapad has been tossed aside, screen dimming around the scroll of text, and the wheelchair he'd squirreled out of the medical bay is collapsed to a vertical fold, leaning against the end of a bed.
He turns aside, allowing Severus entry. ]