Meet me in the morning, if only I don't bend and break [Closed]
Character(s): Connie, Adobe, Sierra, Odessa, Booker, Sam
Content: Wakeywakey eggs and backey? The base groups greets their new day while something back home greets them in turn.
Setting: The hospital atrium.
Warnings: None, save tomfoolery.
The kinks could be worked out of her back later, Connie decided, bowler tumbling down into her lap from where it had obscured the reddish light of the 'night' from her eyes as she'd slept sitting up against the wall. Not a preferred position, but one she'd adapted to through years of seedy nights filled with swift shadows on the wall and the smell of gunpowder. Best to keep herself able to spring to her feet.
Having trained herself as a light sleeper and finding the others still dozing themselves, Connie took note that that meant something was not in order with their slumbering troupe. Something was... awry. Tilting her sleep-glazed eyes down at the huddled form beside her on the mattress, the soft tone emitting from the pocket of a lab-coat beckoned her hand inside, fishing out the fancy little journal contraption she'd yet to understand. The damn thing was making noise and she didn't know how to turn it off, and besides, the others seemed to hold stock in these things and when they made noise, it usually didn't end well, at least in her own short experience here.
"Hey," she said softly, voice hoarse with barely broken awareness. Clearing her throat, she gently nudged Sierra's shoulder, brushing back some more rebellious curls and smiling at the sleeping face beneath them. It wasn't for being a watchdog alone that Connie would have opted to stay awake and keep her eyes on the body next to her. It was... serene, having someone to protect again, having a grateful smile and bright eyes pulling her actions throughout the day.
A small huff, and the thought was shaken, duty brought to the forefront of consciousness. "Your gadget's havin' a fit, Miss Sierra. Care to see what all the ruckus is about?"
Content: Wakeywakey eggs and backey? The base groups greets their new day while something back home greets them in turn.
Setting: The hospital atrium.
Warnings: None, save tomfoolery.
The kinks could be worked out of her back later, Connie decided, bowler tumbling down into her lap from where it had obscured the reddish light of the 'night' from her eyes as she'd slept sitting up against the wall. Not a preferred position, but one she'd adapted to through years of seedy nights filled with swift shadows on the wall and the smell of gunpowder. Best to keep herself able to spring to her feet.
Having trained herself as a light sleeper and finding the others still dozing themselves, Connie took note that that meant something was not in order with their slumbering troupe. Something was... awry. Tilting her sleep-glazed eyes down at the huddled form beside her on the mattress, the soft tone emitting from the pocket of a lab-coat beckoned her hand inside, fishing out the fancy little journal contraption she'd yet to understand. The damn thing was making noise and she didn't know how to turn it off, and besides, the others seemed to hold stock in these things and when they made noise, it usually didn't end well, at least in her own short experience here.
"Hey," she said softly, voice hoarse with barely broken awareness. Clearing her throat, she gently nudged Sierra's shoulder, brushing back some more rebellious curls and smiling at the sleeping face beneath them. It wasn't for being a watchdog alone that Connie would have opted to stay awake and keep her eyes on the body next to her. It was... serene, having someone to protect again, having a grateful smile and bright eyes pulling her actions throughout the day.
A small huff, and the thought was shaken, duty brought to the forefront of consciousness. "Your gadget's havin' a fit, Miss Sierra. Care to see what all the ruckus is about?"