[u][b]Henry[/b][/u]

[i]Memories[/i]. The word rang through Henry's mind again and again throughout the night, even following him into his otherwise peaceful slumber. There had been something in Melanie's eyes after she had said it. At first he'd struggled to put his finger on it, but gradually Henry came to realize that it may have been sadness. During bouts of half-sleep the man began to formulate the possibility that they were both people hounded by their pasts. Their memories. Was there something further down, on the streets, which Melanie did not want to think about? Had something too painful happened to her? And for his part, it was his lack of a full memory which brought him down. His part life and sometimes glimpsed past. Perhaps they weren't too different. Perhaps Melanie, always smiling, constantly joking Melanie had something more to say for herself.

Shuffling about where he led quietly during the night something dawned on the man. He was [i]worrying[/i] about his fellow teammates. Usually this would be a cause for alarm, but strangely Henry felt almost glad. He couldn't remember before what it was like to worry about others. And there was maybe even the chance that he was worrying because they were, dare he think it, friends. Despite the occasion, against the grain of their situation and what was to happen in the morning, Henry drifted back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

Though he did not know it, Henry was lucky to be gifted with a very simple trait. Nightmare free sleep. Whilst awake he might look a nervous wreck, but within the confines of sleep he was almost angelic, resting away soundly and with the most annoying of ease. The man stirred slowly, a few scraps of paper being picked up and then pushed away by his steady breaths. Gradually the lids of his eyes flickered open, taking in the rays of light which were gradually illuminating their home away from home. Suddenly he let out an intrusive, all too contented yawn, sitting up and stretching out his arms as he did. His hat, which had been left on, clumsily fell off backwards from its teetering position. Slowly rubbing the sleep out from his eyes, Henry looked about at the other Runners slowly, seeing that some still slept whilst others were slowly stirring. Then his eyes settled on Church and Eva, who sat close together. It looked as if they had been up for some time, and it even seemed as if they were consoling each other? He couldn't be quite sure, so he just gave them a quizzical glance. He saw that Kenna was awake too, and though he had missed her good morning, he threw her a friendly single wave of his hand.

As quietly as he could Henry shuffled out from underneath his sleeping bag and began to put his things back together, picking up his now slightly dusty hat in the process. They were pretty close to ground level now, but with it being early morning, the temperature was pretty low, so Henry elected to still keep the majority of his wrappings on. After his sleeping bag had been rolled up and neatly packed away, the man produced his water canister and took a healthy swig from it. Wiping away any leftover water from his lips, Henry went to place the lid but stopped when he looked down at Melanie who was still soundly asleep. A sudden urge to tip some water over her face possessed Henry, only fought back by the knowledge that such an action, whilst hilarious, would be an unforgiveable waste of precious water. Shaking his head gently, the man tightened the lid and put his canister away.

After a short time Henry was all packed up and ready to go, but elected to merely sit back down and wait for the others to rouse themselves like the good little scout boy he was.

[u][b]Dominick[/b][/u]

The beat of a steady set of footsteps echoed through the halls, as Dominick made his way with ease to his next destination. Now that he had all the permission he needed, it was time to put a plan of sorts into action. He wasn't sure what he was going to do next, but the man knew that he must do something. As he had sat there amongst friends for many years, something in Dominick's stomach had twisted. He'd looked around that table, and though he saw familiar faces he also saw how much they had changed, and in many cases it was not for the best. For years he had viewed their cause as just, right and even pure. But now, as he walked through those old passageways and looked at his so called comrades he did not see freedom fighters, he did not see people trying to cast off shackles. No. He saw brutes. He saw pillagers. He saw people bent on power. With each other member of the Omegas he walked past the man's stomach twisted evermore.

He had to set it aside though. A few flexes of the hand to shake out the emotions and Dom was steadily on his way to focusing again. Passing through all manner of rooms and hallways, Dom finally came again to the outside and to where he had previously left Roark and his friends to their own matters. The man was glad to see that they were still there, it made things a lot easier for them. Stopping a good distance away, Dominick waited for a moment, letting them pass a few words. He was far enough away so as not to arouse any particular notice. With arms crossed, Dom suddenly called out, his voice helpfully carried by the bare walls.

"Roark Swallows," he stated firmly "We need to talk."

He would say no more than that in front of the others. As he stood there waiting, Dominick hoped that he had picked the right man.