teddy beaufort ( technokinetic ) . (codebreaking) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2012-08-05 16:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-09-14, quentin, teddy |
some men drink alcohol, some men drink juices from the vine.
Who: Teddy and Quentin.
Where: Some random coffee shop.
When: Late morning.
Teddy yawned. He didn’t bother to cover his mouth his hand or hide the fact that he was tired. None of the people around him had had to endure the road trip he had the previous day with the company he had -- a cranky weretiger, an elemental witch who was difficult to categorise or predict at the best of times, and the latter’s rather mischievous and bothersome lion cub familiar -- and none of them had spent the night getting an entire network set up in a hotel room either. Not an easy feat to say the least, and Teddy very much doubted, no matter how arrogant it might make him sound, that anyone around him had the intelligence or skill required to do such a thing, either. He glanced around with a decidedly indifferent air. Nope. Not a one.
His attention went back to the line in which he was standing, and the person at the front -- a middle-aged woman who could probably do with cutting back on the full fat, if her waistline was any indication -- moved aside with their beverage and a pastry on a plate, heading off to one side of the room to join a friend who already had a drink. Seconds? Most definitely. With a small huff of laughter under his breath, Teddy stepped forward, second in line now, and fought back another yawn. All he wanted was some decent coffee. He hadn’t expected the line he’d encountered when he’d walked through the door. If the hotel just had something decent on offer then he wouldn’t have had to venture outside at all -- thank every deity known to mankind for umbrellas -- but no, they had to give you the cheap crap that you could barely bring yourself to swallow, let alone put in your mouth. Teddy almost grimaced just thinking about it. This place hadn’t been too far from the hotel, and he had his cell phone -- complete with mobile tracker, thank you very much; every member of Omega had at least one tracker on them at all times, at his insistence -- in his pocket, volume and vibrate both on so he wouldn’t miss a call if anyone missed him.
Unless something broke and they needed him to fix it or there was a ping on the system he’d set up to monitor supernatural goings-on, then he doubted it. For now, he was free to spend his time as he wished, and while he would very much like to get back to some form of work -- or play; all work and no play made Teddy a very irritable technokinetic -- he had to wait in line.
And it seemed like the guy in front of him was having some trouble. Fantastic. Teddy sighed, about to roll his eyes when he realised it wasn’t the guy who was the problem, but the barista. He saw them shake their head and mutter something, maybe an apology, and wipe the order from the register so they could start again. A barista who couldn’t even get orders right? Well that was just peachy, wasn’t it?