Killer Tomato B2, Sunday Early Evening
Rosalind had draped her suit jacket over the foot of her bed, one button of her shirt undone, and had kicked her shoes off. Which was about as relaxed as she ever got, unless she was sleeping.
It was not that she was particularly comfortable, so much as wearing her suit as armour for what she was considering doing was more than useless. Being a Turk had never helped her here. Putting it off would only make it seem like a worse idea than it already did which was why, after talking to Reno today, Rosalind had returned to her alcove to try and decide if she should or not.
Taking a moment to settle herself, to lean back into her propped up pillow, Rosalind nodded to herself. No more putting it off. It had waited far too long as it was.
She stared at the phone in her hands contemplatively, glanced around to make certain she was for the moment, relatively alone and dialled a number she knew off by heart.
[Primarily for the one on the other end of the line, but open before that if you want.]
It was not that she was particularly comfortable, so much as wearing her suit as armour for what she was considering doing was more than useless. Being a Turk had never helped her here. Putting it off would only make it seem like a worse idea than it already did which was why, after talking to Reno today, Rosalind had returned to her alcove to try and decide if she should or not.
Taking a moment to settle herself, to lean back into her propped up pillow, Rosalind nodded to herself. No more putting it off. It had waited far too long as it was.
She stared at the phone in her hands contemplatively, glanced around to make certain she was for the moment, relatively alone and dialled a number she knew off by heart.
[Primarily for the one on the other end of the line, but open before that if you want.]