Francine Peters (
thatsamilkshake) wrote2011-03-02 09:20 pm
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St. Louis: The Coffee Shop Across The Street From Francine's Dorm, Wednesday Evening
Wow, a red-letter day for Francine: the first time since she'd left Fandom that she actually missed the ability to fume her way over to Caritas and order whatever the heck she wanted without getting carded.
Not that she'd ever done that while she was there and not thinking she was someone else -- she just missed the ability now. Peppermint hot chocolate just wasn't the same. Francine sighed and glanced out the window at the sidewalk; at least the drink was warm, unlike the cold, grumbling rain outside.
Oh God, someone was waving at her from the gym next door. Pigtails, leotard, bright, wide smile... Any other time, maybe, but the last thing Francine wanted to do right now was talk to someone who would bounce in her face.
Which was why she immediately grabbed her phone and held it to her ear as if she'd just received a Very Important Call. Don't make eye contact don't make eye contact don't make eye contact...
[Open for actual calls/texts, because scaring the frak out of Francie is fun. Francie, on the other hand, is not very fun at all right now. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend. Also given the hour and my threat-level-violet headache, SP is the name of the game; pinging in late/tomorrow is fiiine.]
Not that she'd ever done that while she was there and not thinking she was someone else -- she just missed the ability now. Peppermint hot chocolate just wasn't the same. Francine sighed and glanced out the window at the sidewalk; at least the drink was warm, unlike the cold, grumbling rain outside.
Oh God, someone was waving at her from the gym next door. Pigtails, leotard, bright, wide smile... Any other time, maybe, but the last thing Francine wanted to do right now was talk to someone who would bounce in her face.
Which was why she immediately grabbed her phone and held it to her ear as if she'd just received a Very Important Call. Don't make eye contact don't make eye contact don't make eye contact...
[Open for actual calls/texts, because scaring the frak out of Francie is fun. Francie, on the other hand, is not very fun at all right now. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend. Also given the hour and my threat-level-violet headache, SP is the name of the game; pinging in late/tomorrow is fiiine.]
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Give her a second to work up some fake sobs, Francine. She never had to cry on-stage.
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Francine gave Casey another look of UM, possibly more awkward than the last, and the ponytailed blonde finally made an O of her lips, nodded, and brought one finger to them, backing away towards the counter.
Safe for the moment, at least.
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"No, you're good. She's off ordering coff--- uh, some kind of wheatgrass and whey thingy, actually."
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Granted, Dinah could talk about parkour and tai chi and kick-boxing with the best of them, but she didn't expect everyone to share her enthusiasm.
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"Blonde issues. Just not the bouncy kind."
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"And I'm thinking not Casey?" Dinah checked. "Is this about Katchoo, or someone else?"
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Or...possibly Francine brought up her mom, but why let accuracy get in the way of a good righteous brood?
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Dinah wasn't sure she could've done it, if it came down to it. Not even if she was wearing her Canary mask so no one would know it was her.
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She was quiet for a minute. "I'm sorry you guys had a fight about that. But I get it."
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Okaaaaay.
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