(no subject)
Ben Gates is on his cell phone, backing into the door with a laughing “Well Patrick Henr-Riley?” as he steps through the threshold and the line goes dead. He snorts at the cell phone and pockets it (Riley's instituted a 'one historical reference per phone call' rule, which means their conversations tend to be short these days), turning around.
He stops, abruptly, but the grocery bag on his elbow has not quite realized this and continues on its arc, slamming into his side. Ben doesn’t exactly notice.
He turns back slowly to the door, and back again to the main bar, making a thoughtful hmmm noise.
“Abigail is not going to like this.”
[OOC: I should add--please, for this first post, no historical characters from between Revolutionary and Civil War era America, just to save my holiday-induced-coma'd brain from death. Mun is dealing with bouts of illness--no new tags please, unless you want to slowtime them for later. If you have any questions, ping me at TLvop. Thanks!]
He stops, abruptly, but the grocery bag on his elbow has not quite realized this and continues on its arc, slamming into his side. Ben doesn’t exactly notice.
He turns back slowly to the door, and back again to the main bar, making a thoughtful hmmm noise.
“Abigail is not going to like this.”
[OOC: I should add--please, for this first post, no historical characters from between Revolutionary and Civil War era America, just to save my holiday-induced-coma'd brain from death. Mun is dealing with bouts of illness--no new tags please, unless you want to slowtime them for later. If you have any questions, ping me at TLvop. Thanks!]