[Sam comes in prepared, with a gun in his waistband, a silver knife in hand and a can of salt in his jacket. What he's not prepared for, though, is the sudden feeling of vertigo that has him gripping on to the nearest table to steady himself.
Nor is he prepared for the faceless passengers. In fact he almost stabs one before he realizes that it isn't attacking him yet, though he's still wary of them. And really, he kind of figures, after staring at the nothing for a little too long and pulling away with a pounding headache on top of a faint buzzing, that trying to touch those pockets of...well, nothingness is only going to end in disaster.
He's staring out the window after getting his bearings, just marveling at the sight for a moment before walking away, making sure to avoid any of the faceless passengers. Come to think of it, he's kinda starving.]
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Nor is he prepared for the faceless passengers. In fact he almost stabs one before he realizes that it isn't attacking him yet, though he's still wary of them. And really, he kind of figures, after staring at the nothing for a little too long and pulling away with a pounding headache on top of a faint buzzing, that trying to touch those pockets of...well, nothingness is only going to end in disaster.
He's staring out the window after getting his bearings, just marveling at the sight for a moment before walking away, making sure to avoid any of the faceless passengers. Come to think of it, he's kinda starving.]