"Ice cream first," Antigone agreed, closing her laptop with a decisive hand and sliding it back into her satchel, sewn over with patches the future is female and grab them by the patriarchy.
The world looked a lot less bleak when she had a three scoop sundae of chocolate, espresso and salted caramel ice cream piled in a glass in front of her, with a coffee ordered an on its way. Or maybe it was Joan, on the other side of ice cream mountain. Being around Joan was always so easy.
"I went to that Diogenes Club you were telling me about," she said, not wanting to dive straight into the hard stuff. "I liked it. I had drinks with the personification of Force, Bia. She's pretty cool."