Who: Phil Coulson and open, though especially to the residents of House 103 What: Thinking When: Saturday, the 28th, in the afternoon Where: House 103's common area Rating: PG
Phil Coulson was not amused, safe to say. Between hearing about the Arena and being stuck there in general, he'd been in a bad mood for most of the day and was trying to distract himself by sprawling out in the common area with a book -- well, as much as Coulson ever really sprawled. Which was to say, not very much at all.
The attempt hadn't worked, though, and he was sitting there seeing the page without really comprehending it, a thousand and one things running through his mind. This place was insane, on so many levels, and he was stuck there. Why? The amusement of a bunch of aliens. The last time he'd done anything for an alien's amusement, it'd been dying at Loki's hands, so he was understandably less than amused at this whole situation.
And thoughts of his dying were enough to pull him out of the not quite daze he'd been in. At the price of being angry, which was hardly the kind of mood he wanted to be in. Still, though, he supposed angry was better than general bad mood. In a way, at least.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position as someone entered the room. "Hey," he greeted.