Sunny started at the sudden racket, the screwdriver phasing out of his hand and clattering to the floor with a [i]clang.[/i] 

Before the interruption, he'd been working on fixing some old-fangled contraption that spun black disks around a spike--he believed it to be some primitive sort of sound-playing device, and when he'd procured the thing he'd also obtained a few of the disks from his parents. It was a sort of going-away present. He'd had to phase it to sneak it in, and it was sort of a bother to hide, but he supposed it kept his mind off the situation.

Gently laying the machine on the floor and sliding it under his bed along with his tools, the teenager's thoughts drifted towards his last meal, and his stomach grumbled. It couldn't hurt to try the sixth floor's food...unless it was poisoned.

On that note, he made his way out the door and through the halls.