Snippet #2647871

“Seems like it,” Stride drawled, the words rolling smoothly off her tongue as she watched Derrick out of the corner of her eye. Avalon. Condescending, glasses-wearing asshole he was, his presence only told the Fighter that things really had gone to shit out there. After all, it wasn’t every mission that he of all people were sent out to deal with things, much less put them all under “time out”.

Golden eyes flicked back to Issac, regarding him casually. “Look, get that you’re pissed n’ all, but ya should stop actin’ like ya got a stick shoved up your ass. From the sounds of it, pretty much everyone ‘round here fucked up one way or another. That right?” There was hardly any accusation in her tone, merely the same informality as before. “So cut Christina some slack, sit down, and get some damn pizza. Either way, everyone’ll probably have a shit ton of paperwork to do when this is all over.”

With that, she plopped herself onto the couch, popping her shoulder and letting out a sigh at the noise that followed. “And, uh,” idly, Stride gestured towards the fallen Arc.

“Should we go toss him in a closet or somethin’? It’ll make for a good joke.”

In truth, she was quite annoyed; what with Derrick's sudden appearance and subsequent chiding, as well as the various arguments, there was little chance to sit down, crack open a cola or whatever Kora had brought, and relax. The sound of "being put on time out" was rather foreboding, as well...

At the very least, Stride mused, it would make for an excellent show with the meal. She had done nothing wrong, after all; hell, from how things were turning out, she and her group were looking like the cream of the crop.