Heyheyyyy good lookin'

[manazon]

Characters: Miss Men Suck I Hope You Die and Mister Don't Hate Me Cuz I Got a Penis (Lightning and Nemesis ok)

Setting/Location: Lower levels of that thur waterlogged caravan

Date & Time: Day 5, whenever o'clock

Warnings: Lightning don't be a bitch

Summary: I have no idea but this will probably dissolve into angryfaced glares and snark like hella

Comments

[aveclumiere]

To say that Lightning didn't expect a form of turbulence one way or another on a caravan pulled by a giant would be stretching the truth a bit. But still, the way the entire caravan shook as they forded the river was just as unexpected as it was unpleasant. She had only just now finished her initial search through of the upper levels to make sure that most of the passengers had managed to avoid getting crushed by disturbed furniture and she couldn't help but wince as she made her way to the lower levels

[manazon]

Tom's eyes lifted from the paper several times before they actually locked on the source of the voice. He raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised anyone calling him out (except shrieking little staff persons hooting about him blocking the window). There was a brief second of oh, shit as he scrambled to come up with a name or some cue as to who she was. My kingdom and my next six years' salary for a video surveillance system. Not long, however: there was an air of arrogance he'd come across on the network before that he could bet the money he didn't have was...

"I'm flattered you took me for anything, Miss Lightning," he replied dryly, smirking. "Quite an honor."

[aveclumiere]

"You leave an impression, I'll give you that. Though favorable or not, I wont say."

She leaned against the nearest wall and watched as a small group of staff skittered behind her to fix and appropriate the lobby furniture as it was before their little incident. She kept her eyes on him though, wary of what he was up to and skeptical of what he was writing about. Lightning paused before venturing to ask, fully prepared for a snarky answer or a peek of that flippant attitude he seemed to wear with such ease.

"Writing a novel? Or is it worth the time to ask if you're choosing to be productive?"

[manazon]

The smirk got a bit toothy at her retort, exhaling in a humored hmph. These military-type chicks were such ball-busters, but it was a little taste of home wrapped in a kind of weird, off-reddish-haired package. Tom could deal. Apparently she could, too, considering she didn't seem to be in a hurry to put some distance between them. Probably looking for someone to vent pent-up frustration at, he figured. In the form of snarky quips and potential flaying.

He did take a moment to cast a fast, scrutinizing glance to scan for weaponry. Just in case. It was quickly diffused by a light shrug, rapping the maybe-lead stick against the paper.

"Memoirs are big business back home," he said lightly. "Be nice to me and you could get your own chapter. The Lightning that's not the JSA Lightning. Chapter twenty."