paradisa | (no subject)

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anthea

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[Sitting at the kitchen table, she is leafing through the two journals beside her with one hand. On the other, she holds her newly recovered cell phone to which she is quickly adding information. She has been here a while if the half-eaten plate of food next to her and quarter gone bottle of wine is any indication. If anyone were to peek over her shoulder, they would discover notes about things such as restaurants and clothing. Only Mycroft and perhaps Sherlock know the code she's using to encrypt the information and could read what she's really typing.]

[ Mycroft Holmes ]
I've found a charming restaurant in town if you care to eat out tonight, sir.

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[And, so, the SPARTAN works on preparing himself a sandwich, before turning to pull a chair ou-]

Ah...

[He has his hand on the back of a chair, and realises that it probably couldn't take his weight.]

Uh... [He looks to Anthea.] Sorry for disturbing you, ma'am, but do you know how much weight these can hold?

[She glances up but briefly.] Sorry, no.

[Well, better be safe than sorry!

Jorge sets his plate down before reaching up and removing his helmet, obviously to eat. He sets that under the table and moves a few chairs out of the way, before squatting down to start eating.]

[All right. That? Amusing. Very much so. She has enough control to not laugh at his face, but she's still mirthful.]

There is a sturdy enough floor.

You ever tried to stand up wearing half a ton of armour, ma'am? It's not easy

[Well, it is with this armour on this person, but he's trying not to look silly.]

No.

[She answers his question, a tiny smile playing about her face.]

[Well, less silly, in any case]

Thanks for the suggestion, though. I might think about wishing up a SPARTAN-proof chair for the future.

Mm.

[She turns another page and takes a sip of her wine. As the glass almost empty, she picks up the bottle and tips the liquid into it.]

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