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[There's a short little reyvateil chilling on the beach, sitting up under a palm tree. There is a box of cookies sitting beside her, and a data pad (that any Freelancers may recognize) in her lap.
She looks... a very forced sort of blank, right now.
She scrolls through the info on the data pad, frowning thoughtfully through most of her time spent looking down, but every so often that frown turns a little dark - moments when she can no longer read something she could before, when data seems to be missing, when she spots an inconsistency that wasn't there before... She's pretty sure she knows what this means, as it relates to this place and its... machinations.
And she doesn't like it. At all. ... How dare they.How dare he? No. Not him. Just... them.
That forced stoicism remains as she reaches for one of those cookies, unwraps it and gently nibbles at it, still flipping through the data pad. Some might call it obsessive, the way she's going through it over and over and over. She wouldn't care.]
She looks... a very forced sort of blank, right now.
She scrolls through the info on the data pad, frowning thoughtfully through most of her time spent looking down, but every so often that frown turns a little dark - moments when she can no longer read something she could before, when data seems to be missing, when she spots an inconsistency that wasn't there before... She's pretty sure she knows what this means, as it relates to this place and its... machinations.
And she doesn't like it. At all. ... How dare they.
That forced stoicism remains as she reaches for one of those cookies, unwraps it and gently nibbles at it, still flipping through the data pad. Some might call it obsessive, the way she's going through it over and over and over. She wouldn't care.]
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