The debrief was a blur for most of you - after you left the outback, supplies in tow, most of you were too exhausted in one way or another to have much more input in affairs. The important details were that in doing what you did, you’d saved about thirty people who were going to run out of insulin in the next few days, and that the other medical supplies were all things there were major shortages of too; about ten litres of sterile saline, a whole bunch of little glass ampoules of various different drugs, a few packs of disposable syringes and cannulas, and an assortment of other things on top of that. For a hospital, or even just a clinic, it was a poor show of stock - but for a refugee camp of universal unpersons, it was a miracle. Not much else was said during the debrief - apart from one thing;

“The guy you found in the kitchen, Peter Williams, is in a critical condition - but he’s stable for now. Doc said he would’ve been a goner if it wasn’t for whatever one of you did with your magic that slowed the bleeding. Called it a miracle, actually.”

[hr][hr]

[center][h2]Goodnight[/h2]

[h3][color=silver] 7th February, 2020[/color][/h3][/center]

[hr][hr]


"What the fuck, dude?” Came a furious shout, accompanied by the breaking of a plate and the spilling of food.

"Oh shit, I’m sorry-"

"We've all gotta eat you piece of shit!"

"I said I'm sorry, I don't know what else you-"

"No [i]fuck[/i] you!" The other man lashed out, pushing the mage who’d knocked his food on the floor down into the very same mess he’d just made.

Food, the survivors noticed, was a sore spot in Goodnight's collective. Rationing was in place to make sure everyone got their share but it left everyone hungry - and hungry mages made for short tempered disasters. The violence happening in the cafeteria wasn’t a daily occurrence - but it wasn’t unusual either; arguments had suddenly become a guessing game of which destructive ability or unnatural powers might be unleashed if the wrong hair-trigger temper got pulled. People had gotten hurt before. Worse still, even though things had gotten better with the supplies recovered by your team, the medical department were still running on just barely more than fumes; every injury, every infection, every casualty, it was all a risk - more than ever before.

The violet underground were largely kept indoors unless explicitly allowed to go outside. This meant that various wings of the abandoned mall had naturally formed into haunts for particular people, with non-english cultures being the most common to sequester themselves away from everyone else. The mall was full. There wasn't a room that wasn't being lived in or used by the operatives for one reason or another. Illness was common, setting Goodnight to a backing track of coughing and weeping that was alleviated only by the occasional business of mealtimes and the odd class on magic by whichever operatives were around to do it.

One of these operatives was cutting through the crowd right now, flanked by one other figure. The aggressor raised his right hand at the man he’d pushed to the floor, and just as the tips of his fingers started to glow bright red, there was a low, dull, roar, and he recoiled.

"Enough," the newcomer, a tall, dark, military type barked. "No magic. No fighting." She continued, just as her comrade stopped focusing on the aggressive mage’s hand.

“What the- what did you do?”

“Shut you down. Like the lady said, no magic, no fighting.”

The Moroccan woman grabbed them both - the man who’d just been shoved down to the floor and the man who’d just tried and been denied casting a spell at him - and all but picked them up by their collars.

"But where the hell am I meant to get something to eat?!" Protested the stranger.

Not even the soldier had an answer. "Consider it your punishment for endangering the others. Now sit back down or go somewhere else. As for you…" she regarded the clutz with steely indifference. "... Don't let me catch you doing that again."

"This isn't fair! You keep us in here like animals and won't even feed us?!" The man was already being lifted to his feet and lead out of the room roughly. "At least make sure we have enough to go around, damnit!" His protests faded into the din of the crowd as she dragged him into the next room, presumably for a stern talking to. The other man tried to shy away from the sea of embittered, judgemental stares and back into the crowd.

Supper continued. 

After a little while, Billy came up to the table where Ellen and Angie were sitting.

“Hey, uh, how you doin’ guys? Listen, I was just wonderin’ if y’all’d like to come to the chapel with me. It ain’t much of a chapel, actually, to tell the truth - but uh, a few of us are already there at just the moment, and we’re just plannin’ to talk about the last job we did. Y’know, just, get the words out. I was wonderin’ if you were interested?”