After his second consecutive day using it, Felix figured it was probably safe to say that the lounge chair he'd claimed the day before was now his. Not the point where he'd plaster his name on it somewhere, but just he kind of silent agreement any person could possibly make with an inanimate object. Like a kid claiming the same seat on the bus every day (left side, five rows from the back so you could be close enough to whatever stupidity the "cool" kids were getting into to watch or join in, but far enough away for plausible deniability).
He'd been out next to the pool for an hour or two, the unfamiliar humidity wreaking havoc on his sleep schedule until he'd just given up, dressed in a pair of shorts and a white tank top, then wandered towards the kitchen. He'd ignored the monstrosity on the counter, making himself an iced coffee and grabbing a few pieces of chilled fruit from the refrigerator. The remnants of an orange peel and a few grapes still clinging to the stem were all that was left of his breakfast now, laying mostly forgotten on the table beside him. Every once in a while, on the rare occasion that the wind picked up, he'd get a whiff of orange and contemplate wandering in to get another one. But chances were more people were awake, and for now he was more interested in enjoying the peace and quiet until the herd inevitably migrated to the pool once the air heated up more.
He didn't really need his sunglasses at the moment. The sun hadn't quite made its way over the edge of the house to begin it's day-long bake of the pool area, but he wore them anyway, peering through the dark lenses at the screen of his phone, scrolling through days of network posts. He knew he should get into some trouble while they were all there, but without knowing how many days they'd be in the house it was difficult to plan. His last big job, with the dolls in the bunker, hadn't even had the chance to climax before they were all back at Zenith, so something a little easier and more short term would be best. That train of thought reminded him that he still had a few bits and pieces of baby doll and a blanket in his locker in the batcave that he should really do something with, but with how much time had already passed he imagined he'd have to do a little buildup with that. So, something easy. Something small. Something short term. He had access to his alternate network account, which was definitely a plus, but picking a target was proving to be a little tricky. Maybe something more broad would do. He'd figure it out. He always did.