gadgets_n_gears (gadgets_n_gears) wrote in commandhq, @ 2018-05-20 18:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | evan kingfisher, gabi flores, p: mena, p: mj |
Who: Gabi Flores and [Open to staff/handlers]
What: With the 8th floor renovations nearly completed, Gabi needs to just... decompress
When: May 20th, early evening
Where: Suite 208's kitchen, staff quarters
Rating: PG-13
With the renovations finally at a stage where they were almost completed and the second to last of the paint drying, Gabi realised that she needed to just stop for a while before her body gave out on her completely. She felt stressed out and tired; renovations technically weren't part of what she'd been hired to do but they were needed and she kinda knew what to do and how to get it sorted. Thankfully, the staff had been just as eager to get involved; Noah had left the garage to Ben for a few days for the most part and had helped her out, Steph had chipped in when she could, Evan swung by to help out when he could... The hydrokinetics who had taken part in the initial clean up had made the whole thing so much better; she needed to work out how she could get them rewarded for their efforts. She perched on the stool that she dragged out of her room and finished browning the chicken, placing it to the side on a plate to cool as she dumped the bell peppers and onions into the skillet she had. She could have gone to the cafeteria for dinner and normally she did but when she was feeling particularly stressed out she cooked. And the kitchen in 208 was ever so slightly bigger than the one in 207. That was definitely the only reason she was cooking in that one, and not the one more conveniently close to her room. While the peppers were sauteing, she sliced the chicken up. Her leg brace was on, as it had been for the better part of a week. Too much time on her feet had her injuries playing up something chronic. She was struggling to walk, struggling to sleep. She'd reached out to one of the medical team in the hopes that he'd be able to provide some relief via a steroid injection that'd just allow her to finish what she needed to do and then go about actually resting it. She needed to be better at doing her physiotherapy exercises too, but... not enough hours in the day. Hobbling back from the plate to the skillet, she perched again and dumped the sliced chicken back into the pan. They sizzled and the kitchenette and living space was filled with the aroma of freshly cooked fajitas. |