Michael is nervous about something. You can tell because he keeps checking the screen of his phone (it's about the size and shape and thickness of a playing card, and linked to the earpiece clipped to his ear) and also because he is driving his brother more insane than usual, leaning across the table to swat at his brother's face with a napkin, endangering both their milkshakes. Robert is fending him off and trying to defend the milkshakes. And because they are both young gunslingers, this is all happening just barely fast enough to see.
"Hold! Still! You've got something--"
"Fuck! You! You know that's my moustache!"
"Some kind of sentient lint has crawled onto--"
"Burn, asshole!"
"--onto your lip!"
...isn't it fun having a brother?
***
Laura does not get back to her apartment that often; mostly to check her mail. She comes into the bar today (men's nylon basketball shorts, green halter top that leaves most of her
back uncovered--jeez it's hot out there) toting her guitar case, a black canvas bag, and a large bundle of mail.
Most of it she dumps on a table while she zooms in on a magazine (the cover says LASSITER'S GUIDE - 2056 - NEW YORK and the cover photo is two young women in hijab, a blues-rock combo, electric guitar and drums). Laura rifles through it until she gets to the Es, and then punches the air.
"Friggin' A! Yyyyyes!" Her smile is thermonuclear.
[OOC: Mun reserves the right to edit more characters in here as the decision-making process goes on! Open forever and ever. Doing laundry this morning, but around.]