Fourth Floor Stairwell, Late Wednesday Night

[thankgoditsme.livejournal.com]

If there was a terribly inconvenient place to sit, it was in a stairwell. Still, Friday was sitting roughly halfway between the third and fourth floors on the stairs. He had a couple of books on Antarctica beside him, a map spread across his legs and a pen in his hand, marking a trail on the map.

He was probably up to something, but at least he was doing it quietly.

[OOC: Open as stairwells are. Can one close a stairwell aside from in case of zombie and/or raptor attack?]