[ Marcel slams the door shut behind him, looking honestly worse than Jean Louis has ever seen him and what, is he bleeding from everywhere? Hard to tell when his fucking Pa's been using him as punching bag, isn't it? He hopes Marcel's given the old man exactly what he deserves this time around. He hopes the old fucker's been at least partially terminated - after all, Marcel wouldn't appreciate him dying over something like this, ridiculous as it is. Someone's been a dirty little rat. Indeed.

But really, who cares? ]

Was bound to happen, wasn't it? Someone wanting to try the ranks - if you're weak enough, you risk it. [ He steps closer to the other man, looking him up and down. A quick glance at the bags, though no comment; he's clearly moving in. What else would he do? It's about time, really, when he thinks about it. They've been doing this for years. Drawing in a slow breath, he pokes Marcel's upper arm with one finger and turns around. ] Come on.

[ With that, he turns away and heads down the hallway. He's expecting the other man to follow along; there's no reason for him not to. ]