[ It's still fairly early in the day on Monday when Rideaux makes his way to... whatever this booth in the church is supposed to be. He's still in the wet priest robes he threw on over his suit to protect it from the rain, though he's only vaguely aware of any irony in wearing them here.
He takes a seat, and crosses his arms... partly because he's always at least mildly impatient and on edge, but mostly because he's fucking cold in these wet clothes now. ]
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He takes a seat, and crosses his arms... partly because he's always at least mildly impatient and on edge, but mostly because he's fucking cold in these wet clothes now. ]
Do you really sit in there all day?