(no subject)
The door to the bar slams open under the (admittedly not all that impressive) weight of a young woman in a black body suit and a cape. Despite the wildly uncontrolled arc of her flight across the room, she tucks and rolls with casual grace so that she's on her feet almost the second she hits the ground. Her stance is ready, an obvious fighting position.
And then she looks around and relaxes almost imperceptibly.
A mask covers her face so no one can actually see her lips curl up into a broad grin, but her body language isn't precisely subtle in declaring its delight in where she's landed.
After all, Bar makes amazing milkshakes.
And then she looks around and relaxes almost imperceptibly.
A mask covers her face so no one can actually see her lips curl up into a broad grin, but her body language isn't precisely subtle in declaring its delight in where she's landed.
After all, Bar makes amazing milkshakes.