[7] - forward dated to afternoon

[savethedarkness]

[M's maintained radio silence, so to speak, ever since her return from the Lewis & Clark. she's kept her eye on things, and mostly limited her social appearances to those requested by Queen Anne, out of duty to crown. everyone else needed time to heal, after all, herself included. it was one thing to be strong in the face of danger and chaos for others, and it was another to deal with what she'd had to lock away to do so.

in that respect, finding the Death Match with Pixy the night of their return had been a Godsend. the next morning, she'd seen the place with fresh eyes. she had joked with Bond, once, that she might actually need a hobby, and it seemed as good a prospect as any. so without much fanfare, she'd begun spending her free time there, cleaning the place up, making it presentable. it felt almost a little like preparing Skyfall, only with less cobwebs and far less sabotage, and she was able to let the sun in the windows and play some music as she worked, here... even if the jukebox needed some better variety.

finally, she feels as though the place is up to speed, and slides onto a barstool. pulling open the journal, she takes a sip of the pint glass of water at her side, and writes]

Good afternoon, everyone.

I would like to formally announce that the Death Match bar on the second floor of the castle is under new ownership, and as of today, open for business. Currently it has no proper chef, but should anyone wish to fill the position, I will consider applications. I hope this is a welcome addition to the castle atmosphere, and that I will see some of you soon.

Cordially,
Emma

[with that, she'll just go on back to the kitchen and make sure there are supplies for the few things she does know how to make. if people want food, she won't turn them down, but their options will be a little limited. she's much better when it comes to making drinks]

Comments

[savethedarkness]

087. [M smiles, faintly. leave it to her two best agents to always show up in damned suits.]

How are you?

[banshee_rider]

Green. Trying to find ways to occupy my time here. I've been working on a steam-powered warthog variant for the race, but I'm nearly finished.

[She pauses at the bar and eyes the stools warily, not trusting them to hold the combined weight of her augmented self and the Mjolnir.] Looks like you've been busy yourself, though.

[savethedarkness]

[she raises an eyebrow] I had heard of the race, but I'm afraid I'm a bit behind the times as to what, precisely, a "Warthog" is.

[banshee_rider]

Oh, the M12 Force Application Vehicle. It's a common all-terrain vehicle from my world. They usually come with a gunner position but I'm following more the troop-carrier model.

It's just more commonly known as the Warthog.

[savethedarkness]

Sounds like just the thing for ferrying passengers, especially on the longer expeditions. [she smiles, pleased at the concept] Best of luck with it. .... When is the race, again?

[banshee_rider]

The eighth. [She and Lucy would come in third, but it would give her an idea to craft an even faster, scout-run model, for fewer passengers and quicker turnaround.]

[savethedarkness]

Well, if you need anything beforehand, let me know. I may have some resources available.