Roger Stark (Unearthed)
Miffed? She was... miffed? Who even used the word “miffed”? Roger couldn’t help snorting. What a yuppie.
“Doctor Trust Fund here isn’t used to anything unexpected happening in her perfectly organized little academic world. Sometimes… Josie… things in the field aren’t so tidy. You know, the real world. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Roger wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. He was, he had to admit to himself, always somewhat sarcastic, but something about the smug face and perfect attire just rubbed him the wrong way. He couldn’t seem to restrain himself from taking every possible jab at her. Mostly to reassure the rest of the group that he wasn’t a total bastard, he spoke to them in a tone that was snide only by habit, not intention.
“It seems we have a very balanced team.”
He wasn’t sure what else to say. That was pleasant, he hoped, if bland. Truth be told, he was just as anxious as the yuppie archaeologist to figure out what this was all about, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.
“I think we’ll be able to get a lot accomplished, even if we aren’t quite sure yet what to expect. Serendipity can make for the most interesting projects.”
He tried to look suave and worldly as he vaulted into the back of the vehicle, proving that unlike the pampered archaeologist he was used to the practicalities of fieldwork… but rather spoiled the impression by catching the toe of his shoe on the tailgate and throwing himself off balance, banging his knee hard in the process. He let out a few of the sort of choice words he doubted someone like The Good Doctor had ever heard, then seated himself as comfortably as possible, trying to keep some remnants of his dignity intact.
“Doctor Trust Fund here isn’t used to anything unexpected happening in her perfectly organized little academic world. Sometimes… Josie… things in the field aren’t so tidy. You know, the real world. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Roger wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. He was, he had to admit to himself, always somewhat sarcastic, but something about the smug face and perfect attire just rubbed him the wrong way. He couldn’t seem to restrain himself from taking every possible jab at her. Mostly to reassure the rest of the group that he wasn’t a total bastard, he spoke to them in a tone that was snide only by habit, not intention.
“It seems we have a very balanced team.”
He wasn’t sure what else to say. That was pleasant, he hoped, if bland. Truth be told, he was just as anxious as the yuppie archaeologist to figure out what this was all about, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.
“I think we’ll be able to get a lot accomplished, even if we aren’t quite sure yet what to expect. Serendipity can make for the most interesting projects.”
He tried to look suave and worldly as he vaulted into the back of the vehicle, proving that unlike the pampered archaeologist he was used to the practicalities of fieldwork… but rather spoiled the impression by catching the toe of his shoe on the tailgate and throwing himself off balance, banging his knee hard in the process. He let out a few of the sort of choice words he doubted someone like The Good Doctor had ever heard, then seated himself as comfortably as possible, trying to keep some remnants of his dignity intact.