Who: Delphine Beauregard and OPEN. What: Sulking. Seems to be a regular thing with my characters. When: Late afternoon. Where: Outside of a cafe. Rating: G+ Status: Incomplete.
Sulking had become the staple emotion of the young French woman's staple emotion diet lately. She had been unsuccessful in convincing NASA with a simple, and very polite phone call (which was weird enough for her, because phones were not her forte) in letting her visit planets up in space due to the fact that she wasn't trained and they had no idea who she was. She was tired of her God forsaken wheelchair and the fact that most people thought she had fallen ill to some malady in her era so she couldn't just stand up and walk through the city.
She stared down at her coffee with glazed over eyes, stirring it in an absent-minded manner, half of her mind focused on figuring out a way to find this Jack Havock character whilst the other half watched as the froth on top swirled around depending on how she stirred. She was tired of this place, really. It wasn't space, it wasn't France. There were a few English people around and that irritated her. She was yet to meet someone who she could actually tolerate.