“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature.”
Hermione Granger is standing outside of the Conrad, running careful tests on her wards she's placed around the building. She doesn't appear to be speaking as she does so, and for the most part, she isn't.
Anyone who passes her gets a brief smile and a nod, as she is polite. She will speak, of course, if spoken to! She's simply distracted by work and magic and worries, alas.
As it is warmer out, none of her cold-weather clothes from 'home' are appropriate. Thus, she is wearing some borrowed warm-weather clothing from one of the other young women staying at the hotel. The clothes feel rather itchy and she doesn't think that has anything to do with the fabric, itself. It's the unfamiliarity, really. ...Mostly.
Rogue is on the edge of the roof of the Conrad. She's been fixing things up and hauling trash out for a while, and everything is starting to look pretty darned good. She's pleased about that. It's why she's sitting on the roof with a cold can of Coca-Cola against her neck. Anyone who looks up will get a wave. Anyone she wants to chat with will likely get her jumping down to say hi. Anyone who startles her from behind? They'll get a glare and some foul-mouthed words...and then, they'll likely get a smile.
Finally, nowhere near the Conrad is Nikolas Demidov. The man is stepping outside of his building, a large duffel bag hefted over his shoulder.
It might be noted that his duffel bag is sleek, black leather and not a piece-of-shit nylon number. This is only noted because Niko is a snobby asshole who insisted upon it being noted.
There's really no telling where he's going or why. There really aren't many he'll bother to share such information with, either.
Anyone who passes her gets a brief smile and a nod, as she is polite. She will speak, of course, if spoken to! She's simply distracted by work and magic and worries, alas.
As it is warmer out, none of her cold-weather clothes from 'home' are appropriate. Thus, she is wearing some borrowed warm-weather clothing from one of the other young women staying at the hotel. The clothes feel rather itchy and she doesn't think that has anything to do with the fabric, itself. It's the unfamiliarity, really. ...Mostly.
Rogue is on the edge of the roof of the Conrad. She's been fixing things up and hauling trash out for a while, and everything is starting to look pretty darned good. She's pleased about that. It's why she's sitting on the roof with a cold can of Coca-Cola against her neck. Anyone who looks up will get a wave. Anyone she wants to chat with will likely get her jumping down to say hi. Anyone who startles her from behind? They'll get a glare and some foul-mouthed words...and then, they'll likely get a smile.
Finally, nowhere near the Conrad is Nikolas Demidov. The man is stepping outside of his building, a large duffel bag hefted over his shoulder.
It might be noted that his duffel bag is sleek, black leather and not a piece-of-shit nylon number. This is only noted because Niko is a snobby asshole who insisted upon it being noted.
There's really no telling where he's going or why. There really aren't many he'll bother to share such information with, either.