#s.mylene01

[containatrocity]

This town was a shithole. Stryx had assumed that Jersey was the worst kind of place America had to offer, but after an encounter with inarguably the most insufferable set of yokels she'd ever been forced to spend 30 seconds around, she wasn't sure she wasn't in hell. Ghosts? demons? Whatever those things outside were, she could deal with those. A conversation with some redneck about checking her guns at the door when all she was doing was looking for permission to hunt her own food before going back to the commune? Probably a circle in the depths somewhere. Coffee had been the solution, it was hard to fuck up, she assumed.

She was incorrect, because this place served coffee that was a lot like making love in a canoe- Fucking close to water. And, as if the day couldn't get worse- "Motherfucker!" It was difficult to put Stryx on the back foot- big as she was, it was like smacking into a wall- which meant that now there was coffee all over her good leather jacket. "Oooof course. Because today was definitely already going the way 'covered in coffee' would improve." She turns her gaze down, a scowl on black-painted features. "Yeah, dollface, no spills on your end, meanwhile I'm wearing my shit." She inhales deeply, centering herself. "Where the fuck are you headed that you need to forgo looking where the hell you're going?"

where: outside the daily grind who: open

Mylene was typically a very cautious person, but she had lost track of time reading a book during her lunch hour and was now rushing to get back to the library with multiple coffees in hand for her coworkers. She'd been in such a rush that she didn't see someone coming the other way and ran directly into them, making her gasp. "Oh no! I'm so sorry, are you alright?" she quickly asked, looking the other over to make sure no coffee had spilt on them. "At least no spills, right?" she smiled anxiously, hoping they weren't upset.