Indy and Mike's suite

[henry_jones_jr]

At the far end of the living room, Indy sets his glass down by the liquor cabinet and pours himself another bourbon. He's a little flushed, and beads of sweat stand out on his forehead. He doesn't seem to be in any discomfort though

Comments

[henry_jones_jr]

It's not the chanting but the soft snick of the door closing that breaks Indy from his reverie. He turns and wanders back towards the kitchen, tumbler in hand.

"Mikey?" he says as he reaches the breakfast bar.

He leans forward onto the surface, supporting himself on his elbows. His tone's kinda whimsical and unfocused, and he's not really looking at his roomie either.

"If you could have any super power beyond your normal ninjistic abilities, what would it be?"

[henry_jones_jr]

"Super speed would make my job a lot easier," Indy muses. "Like Barry's."

"I mean, how much easier would it be to zip in, grab the prize, and zip back out? Before the booby traps even have a chance to fire. And I could be gone before the competition or the locals even got wind of it."