26th October, 9 am. Prison Cell

[therealpm]

*When Peter comes round, The Machine's display springs to life, helpfully informing him of the temperature, pressure, likelihood of rain (which Peter deems to be frankly ridiculous, under the circumstances) and phase of the moon.

It's nearly full.

By this time last month, Peter would be about to transform.  He reaches out to his wolf form, trying to draw up the now familiar claws.  Instead he gets... nothing.  Well, almost nothing.  His nails lengthen a little.

He frowns, curious and now somewhat more awake.  Something else doesn't seem quite right either.  After a brief investigation, it seems that he is not only on his side (a now unusual state of affairs), but he also lacks any sort of clothing.

Worrisome.*

Comments

Re: 9.30 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John returns with the drink Peter requested.*

Is there anything else I can get you? Have you got enough reading material for the day or do you intend to play Risk with The Machine again?

Re: 9.30 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter stares fixedly to one side, willing the embarrassed flush in his cheeks away.*

Thank you.

No.

*The comment about Risk stirs a small measure of indignation, but he answers with as much composure and dignity as he can manage.*

The Machine will provide me with news updates from the past 3 days.

Re: 9.30 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John may not be particularly good at reading people (for a politician) but even he can tell something's wrong with Peter. Judging from the way he's totally averting his eyes, John assumes he doesn't want to talk about it. Best to just leave him to it then.*

I should probably head back and do some work now - if you do think of anything else, don't hesitate to ask.

*John updates Peter's notes on the door and leaves the other man to his thoughts.*