[ Indeed, Miles is here first, arguing gently with person making coffee. There's a list behind the counter with all of Miles' known allergies, and here he is stubbornly ordering a drink with some of his favorites in it. His neck is already covered in itchy red welts courtesy of that goddamned swear-in perfume. He can't seem to wash it off. And it's making him damned moody. Euphoric one moment, bleakly annoyed the next. Like right now. ]
Just make the order. I'll take full responsibility for it.
[ He rubs again at the hives on his neck. And looks over to see ... ah. ]
Lucky Cat
Just make the order. I'll take full responsibility for it.
[ He rubs again at the hives on his neck. And looks over to see ... ah. ]
Hello, Inanna. What are you doing here?