electrocynic | Hallway to MCA #5, Monday Afternoon

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Hallway to MCA #5, Monday Afternoon

Ugh.

Sarah had been away for a while, back in London. For reasons. Nothing very good, though nothing very horrible, either. She'd ducked out this morning, though. It would've been otherwise fine to spend her birthday in dear old London, except her parents had threatened to pay her a visit, and she just wasn't feeling up to her old favourite game of disappointing her dad extra hard by pretending to be even worse than he thought. So, she'd come back.

And once she'd come back, she'd realized she'd missed graduation. Sparkle's graduation, to be exact. So now she felt like shit. And she had no plans for her birthday, and she was spending it alone, and she found herself missing Guy and April and who the fuck ever she'd ever managed to care about only to lose touch.

Yeah.

This all probably explained why she was making her way towards her apartment with a great big bag of groceries, where bottles of Green Lamp Ale clinked together, packets of crisps made crisp-packet noises, and there was enough ice cream to probably get a class of first-graders into a sugar coma.

[ooc: Oooopen post! Of birthday frowning.]

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Hey, he got that. In fact, he employed the exact same strategy. Didn't mean he was going to let up on snarking on people about it.

Atton was back ten minutes later, carrying some equipment, which he put down... somewhere over there. Whatever, wasn't like he was worried his eyes would fall out if he stared at the holo for too long.

"Space," he said, as he turned towards the coffee table. "Were you planning to cram a football team this big," he gestured at the snarks, "on a sofa that small? Now that's ambition."

This was him doing the nice snarking. If he'd actually wanted to piss her off, he'd have hit on her, but he didn't actually want to spend the afternoon alone this once.

Sarah made a face at him, but it wasn't half as heartfelt in its annoyance as it would usually have been. This was a bad afternoon to spend alone, okay. It was that kind of day. "Smartarse. I was going to make them sit on the floor."

Atton collapsed on the half of the sofa left to him. "Oh, so you're a 'make them wait on hand and foot' kind of woman," he said, giving a vague little wave in the direction of his equipment, which flicked on.

"No other kind to be," she replied, reaching for her bottle of Green Lamp while giving his... technical stuff an idly interested look. As usual, most of her interest was more along the lines of how she could command such a thing with her voice. "Otherwise they might get the wrong idea."

Much of the tech from Atton's galaxy was already voice-activated, so it wouldn't exactly make much of a difference. The holo had already been primed and started playing-- something about wars and apocalypses and devastation and a lot of really hot young people who were somehow involved.

"Like what?" he said. "That they're around to be more than a footstool?"

"Lest they think there'll be sorrow when they fuck off," Sarah drawled, with a pointed look at the label on the bottle she was uncapping. Total coincidence. "But that footstool thing as well. That sounds great."

Atton snagged a bag of chips off the table and opened up. He wasn't a beer guy at the best of times, least of all this time of the afternoon, but he'd probably put in a show of drinking it later.

"Are we day drinking to anything in particular here?" he checked. "I mean, I'm not asking for your whole tragic backstory or anything, it's just so I know when to look in the other direction."

Sarah offered up a sigh to accompany her eyeroll, before fixing her gaze on the really hot young people. Because, hello, really hot young people, probably doing shit that common sense should keep them from doing. "I'm officially one year older today. That's the entire tragedy."

Atton reached for the second beer and opened it up, because see: at least making a show of drinking it. "Now there's a pain I know well," he said, "Good enough for me."

The young people even started off stupid, antagonizing fake future mob bosses.

Great way to elicit a snort from her, though. She did so love watching people be stupid when it didn't affect her personally.

"Mm hmm," she replied. "I also left London because my parents were coming to visit. So, so far, the day is looking up when compared to that."

"Hey, I'm the better part of someone's day," Atton said, taking a bite of a chip. "I can live with that."

Space knew it didn't happen to him often.

Sarah glanced over. "But these are pretty low standards, mate."

She didn't think it mattered, though.

"You could've just left me in the illusion," Atton said, taking a slight sip of that beer.

She tsked, reaching out for some chips for herself. "You're my current football team, so I can't bloody well let you think you're special. You know that."

"Well, that serves me right for not leading with 'Nice tits' when I saw you in the hall just now," Atton said. "Now you're walking all over me."

"Nah, think that's just a question of tone," Sarah decided, after leaning back and popping a few chips into her mouth. Thoughtfully. "I'd still be walking all over you. Just with more feminine wiles involved."

"So now I'm missing out on feminine wiles," Atton sighed. "Either way, not fantastic choices on my part."

Not that he was as into the one night stand thing these days, but flirting as a cover was a personal specialty.

Sarah cracked half a crooked smirk at him. "Well, if you get upset, I can always adjust my shirt for more cleavage."

Flirting just to kill time was also a thing. Of course, in her style, it was always a little dry and kind of like she was making fun of the other party.

Atton tilted his head at her. "You know, that's tempting," he said, making sure he actually looked at the cleavage in question. "Give it some space to breathe."

Sarah sighed like it was a hardship, then put her beer down tug the front of her shirt further down, until there was ample cleavage and just a tiny sliver of a predictably dark green bra showing from underneath the upper edge of the shirt, below the electric current sign pendant that rested against her chest.

"Better?"

Atton gave that the look it deserved.

"Okay, now I feel appeased," he said. "You do good cleavage."

That deserved getting the beer back in her hand. "I may be getting older, but I do still have great tits."

And she had no trouble acknowledging that, no matter how many times she'd told Devlin to stop leering at them.

Atton snagged a chip and popped it in his mouth, returning his attention to the holo. "See, now you're starting to see the light side of things," he said. ... Pun not intended, his brain-voice muttered. "We're not getting older, we're just acquiring more skills while still looking pretty."

"This is the first I've ever heard of good cleavage as a skill." Not that she objected. In fact, giving it a thought, she was pretty sure some of the women in the holo had benefited from the skill in question to get their parts. "Suppose there's value in that."

"It also helps to know how to deploy it properly," Atton pointed out.

Helpfully.

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