Who: Oliver and Maya When: Morning, November 12th Where: the Midway What: Coffee, other stuff? Ratings: Tbd, probably mild.
Maya had gotten rid of her doll, creeped out by the fact that it had appeared in her server room - a place that no one should have been in without her knowledge - but instead of clearing the creeper vibes from the place, it seemed to have done the opposite. She'd had strange, ephemeral dreams all night, tossing and turning and waking up both un-rested and unable to remember what she'd even been dreaming about. Sure, she had bouts with nightmares periodically, but she was usually able to remember them in the morning. She knew where her nightmares typically came from.
She'd gotten up early, as was her habit, running through her morning workout on what was mostly instinct, mind fogged with fatigue and preoccupied with the dreams. The physical activity usually helped wake her up, get her ready for a full day of work and whatever emergencies came with it, but today it wasn't doing shit. She showered and dressed in denim cutoff shorts, flip flops, and a black camisole under a loose-weave black sweater that left one shoulder bare. She pinned her hair up, then grabbed a big steel tumbler of coffee and her laptop and headed out. She spent a lot of time in the tech trailer with her computers; she liked to spend what time she could outdoors, which usually ended up being mealtimes most reliably.
She found a bench on the Midway and settled in; she liked to do her morning browsing and email check with the background of the other Cirque workers setting up for the day. Curling up cross-legged on the bench, she opened the laptop, took a gulp of scalding coffee, and got to work.