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 Posted: Mon Apr 26, 2010 4:37 pm
Dale Spencer was proud to say that out from all her injuries, the only evidence that was left was a brace for an arm and a whiff of aloe from the anti-scarring cream.
What had dragged her out from her life as a hermit? Why, the very person who had kicked her down the stairs leading to it in the first place.
Sometime during her days in her butler's apartment, she had been assigned to a Captain. Was it fate, the queen, or plain irony that assigned her to Obsidian?
On one hand, it was Obsidian, the man who had beaten her senseless. On the other hand, she knew him. She knew that Obsidian was one of the best that the Negaverse had. Also, if he hadn't seen some sort of potential in her, she would've been killed the night he chose to merely beat her.
The reason that Dale was sitting inside Apollo's Coffee was simple. Amongst all the titles of Mongoose and Enterprise, there was a lack of a title for Drew's team.
She simply had to step in before they were assigned a title like "The Roaring Penguins" or something. No, they needed something fabulous, debonair, mysterious, and thrilling!
At least, that's what she thought.
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Posted: Fri May 14, 2010 4:09 pm
All Andrew Collins knew was that his life had been growing increasingly weird as of late. And being assigned three, very young, potentially deadly young women to oversee wasn't even close to the top of the list. Still, it was one of those women that had drawn him out to 'discuss' something important--a something that she would only tell him if he met her over coffee. In public.
He'd have been lying if he'd said he wasn't surprised that Variscite had willingly chosen to contact him after their last eventful meeting, but it wasn't something he chose to dwell over. There'd been no hard feelings meant. If anything, maybe she'd wisely chosen to get her act together and start acting like she really belonged in a force like the Negaverse.
The redhead shouldered the door open, his loosely pulled back hair and sweats a clear sign he'd been working out before swinging by the coffee shop. It wasn't hard to pick Dale out of a crowd, and the captain would casually make his way over before plopping down in the open seat.
"This is not as fun as girl watching." He would tell her frankly, propping his hands under his chin and ordering an iced coffee when the waitress wandered their way. He'd leave it at that. Either Dale would man up--oh, the puns--and say what she'd wanted to, or he was going to enjoy his coffee and pick at her a little more.
It was hard to believe that he'd beaten her senseless only a few weeks ago, and his eyes absently trailed over the brace supporting her arm as though to remember. "Looks like you took a nasty spill." It was too casual, but clearly he saw that sort of thing as a joke. It probably wasn't very funny.
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