Agent Spacey
| Handler
| FADE
|
Post by Michael Spacey on Jul 26, 2016 21:59:42 GMT -5
Running around after crazy enhanced all day was tiring. Especially in this heat. It might have been a perk, at first, to know that he wasn't going to have to do traffic rounds anymore as a government agent. He didn't realize it would be so exhausting though. They always ran, and he and Phoenix had to chase. It was kind of like those cycles they'd learned about in school: the water cycle, the life cycle. If he had to choose this would be the dumb cycle. Totally.
They hadn't managed to catch the criminals they'd spent the better part of the day chasing. Luckily another team had come in to relieve them, and so he and Phoenix had been released. He'd decided he was too tired to cook. She'd decided she was too tired to anything and so he'd left her alone saying he'd bring back some food. He'd showered before he'd headed out, though. Nothing like sewer stink to get him kicked out of a dining establishment.
The bell dinged as Michael opened the door and slid inside. It was hot out there, the kind of heat that sizzled the pavement and melted the soles of your shoes to the concrete, and even now that the sky was darkening it didn't seem any cooler. Damn heat island effect. The young man took a moment to hog one of the rotating fans, following it around, until the hostess greeted him and led him to an empty table.
Mikey chatted with her for a bit, mostly about the stupid delays on the L line, until the ding of the bell pulled her back to duty. He wasn't of the opinion that he'd lived in New York City long enough to be considered a regular yet, but ever since he'd discovered the diner he'd come every few days. There was enough variety on the menu to keep him interested, and there were usually so few people during the odd hours he frequented that either the staff or the other customers were more than happy to entertain him. Which was great because one-sided conversations with Phoenix, while sometimes enlightening, weren't nearly fulfilling enough.
"Hey!" he greeted the waitress with a cheerful grin. "If it isn't my favorite waitress." though, to be fair, he said that of all of them. He did like the redhead. She had a fun sense of humor. "How're you today, Carrie? How's that Broadway job hunt going?"
Tag: Carrie Kelley Notes: Figured he's been there enough to know the gossip~ if you're not cool with it lemme know.
|
|
Robin
| Vigilante
| Batfamily
|
Post by Carrie Kelley on Jul 27, 2016 11:39:52 GMT -5
notes here. words: 162 | Carrie really wish she wasn't stuck in this world. Further more she really wished she had a better job. She was living off minimum wage and tips. The only apartment she could afford was a tiny studio apartment. But that was her situation, so she was putting up with it.
At her job she was very friendly, getting to know regulars and hoping to get better tips. It was tiring work standing all day waiting on people. Still, she kept up a smile.
Carrie came over to a little two person table only occupied by one familiar face. "Hey Michael! You make me blush!" She laughed and waved a hand. "It's been a a slow day, so I'm good. Ahaha... Yeah, it's not the easiest, but I'm sticking to my dream."
She pulled out a little notepad from the apron hanging around her waist and a pen from behind her ear. "What about you? You look beat. What would you like today?"
multiply life by the power of two |
|
|
Agent Spacey
| Handler
| FADE
|
Post by Michael Spacey on Jul 28, 2016 19:34:21 GMT -5
"You go girl!" he said encouragingly. "If you're half as good an actress as you are a waitress I bet all of Broadway will want you once they get their act together~" but Mikey knew a thing or two about rejection letters. He'd spent years receiving them from FADE every time he'd applied for the Handler program except for the most recent. It was still kind of hard to believe he was living the dream. Booyah.
Michael flopped dramatically across the table at her observation. "I feel like I spent the day running laps around Manhattan. How can such a tiny island have so much ground to cover?" It was funny. She could probably say the same thing about this diner which was considerably less space to traverse. The man lifted his head enough to absently glance over the menu. Everything looked good. Anything edible sounded good, actually. His stomach made a noise of complaint loud enough that the young man blushed and burst out laughing.
"Bahahahaha. I'll go double cheeseburger topped with bacon, onion rings, and magic," he grinned at her jokingly as he slid back up to a sitting position. "With fries. And water. Lots of water. They haven't made you go outside today, have they? It's borderline torture," he complained folding his laminated menu back up to use as an impromptu fan. "This is a city not a desert."
He snapped the plastic covered paper, as if remembering something, and opened it again. "Can you tack on a chicken strips meal to my bill to go? I don't need it 'til the end. Promised my partner I'd bring back food. You'd think a fire-wielder would be able to handle the heat better," he shrugged, grinning at his own bad joke, but there was concern in his expression that made it clear he was worried about her.
|
|