Who: Phil Coulson and Open What: Kind of doing the working thing When: Wednesday evening Where: The casino Warnings: TBA Status: Open/On-going
Phil's life in Madison Valley was a peaceful one, and sometimes that had him on edge more than he really liked to admit. Not in any really bad ways, just in a general sense of feeling like it'd been too long since something happened so when was the next thing going to be coming down the pike? But they weren't at that point yet, they'd just recently had another bout of town weirdness, so that on edge feeling hadn't quite cropped up yet. Wouldn't for a while.
Eventually, because he knew himself, but not yet. (And when you'd been in town as long as he had, you learned the patterns.)
But by and large, he didn't worry any more than he absolutely needed to. His wife and daughter were doing well, Jean was doing well, he loved his job, he had his friends. He didn't really need anything more. Those times at work where he got restless, he just got out of his office and out into the casino proper. Memories came back to him when he did that, though, of staff who were no longer there. He didn't think about most of them very often, but he worried about all of them.
Phil was on one of his casual wanderings through the casino -- he trusted his security team implicitly, but old habits died hard and he kept an eye on things anyway. At the moment, though, he was at the bar after having stopped to check in with one of the bartenders. No real reason, he just liked keeping up with his staff.