Archer didn't need to be so uptight. Brannon wasn't worried. He was fully expecting cookies.
"Hey there, Ollie," a nod to Olinger, and then another to Thomas, "Lansing." Following the shorter man around to the sitting area, Brannon didn't hesitate to plop down onto the sofa, and reached forward to take one of the mugs, when they were offered.
Glancing down at the contents, he wrinkled his nose. Swirling it a bit in the ceramic mug, the look on his face only twisted more. He never understood why Olinger drank something that looked like that. Personally, Brannon had never even tried it. And he refused to ever do so.
Lowering the mug to rest on his knee, Brannon lifted blue eyes back up to Lansing as he was, more or less, given the floor to talk. Focusing on what he was being told, there was a beat between the tragic report, and the furrowing of his brows.
"Seriously?" He gave a look from Lansing to the mayor again as he straightened up more on the sofa."Wait. Taken down-down?" His eyes narrowed a bit and he looked to Archer, exchanging a more confused look than anything, before cutting his eyes back around to Olinger and Lansing.