(no subject)

[regularsized]

Bridget Banner has a couch by the fire, a Stark Industries tablet, and a game of Bejeweled, on which she is focusing with meditative calm.

You might think she wasn't paying any attention to the room around her. You'd be wrong, but you might.

Comments

[blind_ambition]

"–I need those reports on my desk by 16:00. Don't let me down, Nielson. Because you know what happens when you let me down. You let Joan down, and nobody... wants... that."

The plain-clothes that just crossed the threshold stops in the middle of the room. He doesn't look particularly distressed, but he's poking around with his cane, obviously perplexed.

After about twenty seconds, he cracks a smile.

"Oh, this place again. You know," he says, addressing the great expanse of nothing; "a little warning would be nice. You know, for those of us who are expecting a chair seven steps in front of us."

He shouldn't drink while he's on the clock.

But a light beer shouldn't hurt.

[therighttime]

Steph Rogers opens the door to the bar. No, not that one. The one that leads to the forest and lake. Idleness is a concept she's still working on, in the most constructive ways possible, and as cathartic as tearing open a row of heavy bags in her local gym is (really is), she'd like to avoid that in the closely populated space of Milliways.

Running is good that way. Running is helpful.

So there's a very tall, kind of sweaty woman coming into the bar, wearing running shorts and zipping up a hoodie over a plain white t-shirt. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail and her face is flushed with a runner's high as she asks - and receives - a bottle of water from Bar.