Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26414442-20150506015955/@comment-25686329-20150512192929

The Yankee found his eyes wandering; avoiding awkward eye contact with the other members.

He spotted something out of the corner of his eye, and his head promptly rocketed to face the object as he realized what it was.

Mother of Author, there was a security camera in this room.

With a start, he launched from his chair, swearing under his breath.

Jane had already smashed her chair against the wall, and he couldn't risk wasting another second to shut off the camera, hack it with his MirrorPhone.

He gripped his own chair, hoisted it with a yell, and sent it tumbling into the lense of the camera.

He reeled, wild-eyed, back towards Jane, though he adressed the group for a bit.

"...Fricker bugged the room." He said. "Now, I don't care what other opinions people may have on Grimm, don't give a damn about your coping methods, but if we don't start to figure this shat out, we're all -- and I don't pardon myself for using this expression -- dead."

"Jane, you're playing to his hands. You're a helluva lot smarter than him, but you sure aren't acting like it...

"Calm...

"Down..." He said slowly. He was staring straight into her eyes, locked, unwavering, not from anger, but with the closest thing to concern, fellowship that the Yankee was physically and emotionally capable of. "This is what he wants. You don't want to do what he wants, do you?"

The Yankee sunk back into a new chair.