(Untitled)

[notaphony]

The sound of jazz follows Joan into the bar, as does the scent of cigarette smoke

Comments

[jane_becomes]

Jane has not in the Bar for a while and is rather surprised to find out how cold it is has gotten when she steps outside.

She almost turns and returns to the warmth of the Bar but she notices the woman who looks rather like her.

[agtninetynine]

Whoever designed this place, 99 thinks, must have modeled it off some very interesting weather.

It's decidedly early winter out here - or, at the very least, a frigid fall - but she's considerably warmer thanks to her layers and the exercise she's pursuing.

She stops mid-stretch, eyes narrowing at the figure standing in the distance.

[jane_becomes]

Bar was kind enough to give Jane a shawl before she walked outside since it is still warmer in her home and she comes closer. After all perhaps this woman only resembles her slightly,

"May I ask what you are doing, ma'am?"

[agtninetynine]

"Oh, I was just--"

There's a long, long pause between the beginning of that sentence and the next one starting.

"... what the."

[the_nice_1]

Aleph has just been out for a run. It's standard procedure in the mornings, and sometimes in the afternoons, regardless of how cold it is, just to give herself something to do.

She slows to a halt, though, at 99, for a breather. "Nice."

[agtninetynine]

She pauses in her stretch, having just leaned down to touch the toes of one foot.

"Nice to see I'm not the only one who isn't afraid of a little chill."

[the_nice_1]

"What's the worst that can happen? Frostbite?"

Ooooh, she's scared.

And possibly also a little bit stir-crazy. She can live happily in the Global Frequency base for years, but only if she has something to do.

[agtninetynine]

99 shrugs.

"Beats me."

Anyway, she's been in places that are much, much colder.

[weplayparts]

Lucky for him, she can see him well in advance, and greets him with an affectionate expression.

"I think it's called Melon of Troy," she admits, though she can't exactly turn the bottle upside-down to check at the moment.

"People say it clashes with redheads. I say that's fèihuà."

[weplayparts]

"You shameless flatterer, you."

She blows across her fingertips again, then motions to the seat across from her with her dry hand.

[stilljustandrew]

A pile of books moves past Ellen's table.

Wait, there's someone under them. This becomes apparent when the topmost book slides off; a hand reaches up to grab at it, misses, and manages to trap the book precariously between elbow and chest.

"...Frell," a voice says from behind the stack.

[hunterswidow]

The pile teeters precariously near her table - and the beer, by default.

"Need some help with those, son?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Um. 'Preciate it?" says the voice.

The book caught under his elbow is in definite danger of falling.

[hunterswidow]

Ellen reaches out to secure the book with her free hand.

"What're you needin' all those for, anyway?"

[works_in_space]

We'll put it simply.

Jim can't take his eyes off Laura.

He was merely out for a bit of a walk, perhaps keeping his eyes open for her. He didn't expect to see her dancing. Or to be so utterly enchanted.

He's got it bad, doesn't he.

[agtninetynine]

It's less dancing and more holding the occasional ballet pose.

It's been a long time since she had the opportunity to dance for herself.

She stretches her arms over her head, and there may be the faint sound of humming - Tchaikovsky, to be more specific.

Either way, she's unaware anyone is watching.

[works_in_space]

He probably should let her know he's there. It's not nice to just stand there. And it's even a little creepy. And Jim Kirk is many things, but not a creep.

"Er, hello."

[agtninetynine]

It may startle her, but she doesn't drop her pose. Yet.

"Hello."