(no subject)
Adaptability was a fundamental in achieving greatness. Erica had never actually wanted greatness, but she could still appreciate the sentiment behind it. It was one of those basic rules. Adapt or die. That was basic biology. Sure she hadn’t actually studied the subject since her senior year of high school, it wasn’t exactly something that was easily forgotten.
This hadn’t been what she had asked for, but she would be damned before she let this place beat her. If whomever or whatever was pulling the strings wanted some truly interesting results, wanted to see how fast she could break down then they would have to look elsewhere. Erica Albright was better than a simple system. She would adapt, change, reassess and move on.
Of course all of this was easier said than actually done.
She was trying, which counted for something. It was too early to get any real assessment of what the outcome might be. No, it had been two whole days, nearly three. A strange three days, but three days nonetheless.
She’s standing in this place that is called the Hub, chewing on a swizzle stick that had once had a maraschino cherry on it. Leaning against the foosball table, there’s a drink resting on the corner of it. There was a temptation to play darts, mostly because she wants to throw something but she has no idea where a dartboard can be found or if there even is one.
What she should’ve done was ask for extra cherries, but she had felt weird enough ordering a drink as it was.
With one hand on one of the posts, she gave it a twirl. One of the legs of the “players” slams against the little ball causing it to fly through the air, hitting the back of someone a few feet away.
“Oops, sorry about that,” she called immediately letting go of the posts and giving an awkward wave. “I’m out of practice. Really out of practice."
ooc: open to any and all (she's brand new!). st/lt welcome. no limit.
This hadn’t been what she had asked for, but she would be damned before she let this place beat her. If whomever or whatever was pulling the strings wanted some truly interesting results, wanted to see how fast she could break down then they would have to look elsewhere. Erica Albright was better than a simple system. She would adapt, change, reassess and move on.
Of course all of this was easier said than actually done.
She was trying, which counted for something. It was too early to get any real assessment of what the outcome might be. No, it had been two whole days, nearly three. A strange three days, but three days nonetheless.
She’s standing in this place that is called the Hub, chewing on a swizzle stick that had once had a maraschino cherry on it. Leaning against the foosball table, there’s a drink resting on the corner of it. There was a temptation to play darts, mostly because she wants to throw something but she has no idea where a dartboard can be found or if there even is one.
What she should’ve done was ask for extra cherries, but she had felt weird enough ordering a drink as it was.
With one hand on one of the posts, she gave it a twirl. One of the legs of the “players” slams against the little ball causing it to fly through the air, hitting the back of someone a few feet away.
“Oops, sorry about that,” she called immediately letting go of the posts and giving an awkward wave. “I’m out of practice. Really out of practice."
ooc: open to any and all (she's brand new!). st/lt welcome. no limit.