(Untitled)

[cheevy]

Miniver is in the bar.

Sulking.

His Bosie got himself imprisoned for a few days.

Sulk sulk woe.

He's in a booth. Looking woeful.

PLEASE stop him before the meta audience starts throwing bad fruit at his bad overacting.

Comments

[hysteriaprone]

Roderick, much like a ghost, seems to appear from the shadows as he spies Miniver. He hasn't been out of his room for long; the necessity of eating has tugged him from his solitude.

He looks terrified.

[cheevy]

Miniver spots him and quits his own sulking.

"Roderick! Hey, you okay?"

[hysteriaprone]

Roderick stares in Miniver's direction for a moment, as though he were looking straight through his body. His eyes are watery, distant -- unforcused.

His voice is a low, trembling whimper.

"She's coming."

[cheevy]

Miniver stands to go to Roderick and gently leads him to a seat in the booth.

"Who?"