Participants:
| Scene Title | Uneasy Reunions |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | An evening at the arcade becomes tense when past connections become present. |
| Date | March 3, 2018 |
Part bar, part arcade, Add-a-Ball is a neighborhood fixture in Elmhurst and a favourite haunt for the Safe Zone's younger inhabitants and those with a weak spot for 80's nostalgia. The building's labyrinthine layout seems to go on forever, branching out into narrow, uneven corridors lined with old arcade and pinball machines, dozens of which are out of service at any given time. This said, it's impossible to get lost; every pathway connects with another, and eventually leads back to the bar.
Behind the bar, shelves of cheap spirits are stacked all the way up to the ceiling, creating a glass collage of eye-catching colors and shapes, not unlike the games themselves. Tall stools that swivel a full 360 degrees provide seating at the bar itself, but there are also a series of tables clustered nearby that are almost always covered in empty plates, crumpled paper napkins, and leftover glasses tipped with beer head.
Ceiling fans swing lazily overhead, providing the circulation desperately needed to prevent the room from turning into a furnace.
Friday nights at the Add-a-Ball barcade in Elmhurst are packed wall-to-wall with bodies. Speakers mounted to the ceilings throughout its labyrinthine layout pipe in hits from the 70's and the 80's, not that most of the young men and women who have chosen this hoppin' spot would be able to differentiate between the two decades.
It's old. It's hip. It's cool.
Some might even say— primal?
Beer glasses tinkle beneath the chatter, which is interrupted by the occasional peal of sharp, unruly laughter coming from a corner populated by a group that's had a little too much to drink. Others crowd around the old arcade consoles and pinball machines, jockeying to beat the latest high score.
Robyn Quinn can certainly differentiate between the two decades of music - it's part of why she likes this place. The arcade games are a distraction at best - she can appreciate the noises that come from them and the enjoyment they bring others, but outside of days long past spent playing Rock Band and a handful of other games, they've never been her cup of tea.
Or her glass of slightly sweet porter, in this case.
It doesn't help that all the arcade machines blend together again, their varied and bright displays all rendered in a much less eye popping greyscale. But that's also part of why she likes this place - she can put on a pair of sunglasses, jeans, more casual fare than her standard apparel, and blend into the back, where no one would ever think to look at her.
Tonight is one of those night, hours after seeing Elaine Darrow. A drink feels appropriate right now.
Some really do say primal. Like Joe. Who has dragged a Silvia along for the occasion. And is super psyched about coming in here. Not for the alcohol, but for the arcade games. He wants to play the arcade games. How many places can you actually play video games right now in the city? With so much destroyed or looted in the city things like that aren't exactly easy to come by. Lance has a PlayStation with like a few games. But Joe had gotten a hold of a Silvia to see if she wanted to come check out the arcade, so he's currently weaving his way through the crowd, trying to stick close to her, but also trying to get near an arcade machine to go play.
"This is primal! There's so many old games here. I want to play them all. We totally don't have time to play them all." He looks back towards Silvia with a wide grin in place. "You sure you won't get in trouble for coming out this late?"
"Primal." Silvia is still getting used to the slang. It's hard enough learning English without slang getting in the way! "It seems pretty cool out here," she agrees, but shrugs off the suggestion of being out late. "My parents are cool, they'll understand. I told them I might be out late so they won't worry too much." Well, they'll probably still worry, but that's not something Silvia wants to think about at the moment. She's focusing on having fun. "Which machine should we start with? What is the best one?"
Looking up from her glass, Robyn purses her lips when she sees two younger folks in the bar. It's too dark so sunglasses, so instead she wears her usual band pulled across one eye, but she keeps her eye on them for a moment regardless. She, naturally, snuck into many bars when she was young, and had more than a few drinks bought for her.
Maybe it's the fact now that she's older and technically a form of law enforcement that has her frowning. Still, she lets this play out for now, instead glancing over to one of the arcade machines - something with the X-Men, if she remembered what little she knew of comics correctly.
Joe turns around in place, eyes moving over all the machines in the place. "I uhhh have no clue. So lets just pick one and go play it!" He angles towards a nearby machine, stepping over to it and looking the machine over for a few moments. "Rampage. Giant monsters destroying cities. This works." He lolls his head over to the side to peer at Silvia. "This work?" He asks of Silvia.
He pauses to let his eyes wander the bar, keeping his head on a swivel, alert. Joe's not dumb, places like this can be a lot of fun, but they can also be a lot of trouble, and Brian didn't raise an idiot. Well… that might be up for debate if you speak to his siblings. But Joe definitely does not believe himself to be stupid.
Silvia, on the other hand, doesn't know trouble until it's trying to smack her in the face and she's turning into sand. While she has common sense, there's a certain faith in humanity she seems to hope for and naturally assumes exists. So while Joe is a little more aware, Silvia is aware of just how awesome Rampage is. "This totally works. Try it out and then give me a turn. I want to see if I can beat your high score."
Robyn's eyes flick back to the - what she considers - kids as they make their way over to one of the machines, and decides that's harmless enough. She has a burger coming anyway at - about right this moment, relaxing in her seat a bit as it's set down in front of her. She offers a nod of her head and a smile - and a note to leave a good tip. She should've brought Dirk with her, really. Maybe called Nicole. But here she is, drinking alone instead. Certainly not the first time. She watches the kids play Ramage for the moment - that isn't one she ever played a lot, she was more Ms. Pac-Man and Galaga. It looks fun!
A teenage girl with a wild nimbus of ash-blonde hair feeds quarters into the Big Buck Hunter machine a few consoles down from Silvia and Joe. She's small, with a frame like a wiry little cat's beneath an oversized leather jacket worn over a floral chiffon dress that looks like it might be black with moody pops of darkest pink and ivy green.
Her head is canted in a such a way that suggests she might be listening in on their conversation as she hefts one of the plastic hunting rifles and steadies it against her shoulder.
"It's multiplayer Pearl." Joe laughs and gestures her to the joystick and buttons next to him. Pearl for the pink octopus from Finding Nemo. She'll get the reference after their discussion in Raquelle's shop. He thinks. "So get on here and lets wreck some buildings." He waits for her to step up to the machine and pick her character, and while he waits he lets his eyes wander again.
There's a hitch, a moment of hesitation on a face at the bar but… he doesn't quite put the face with a face from the past. But he knows it's a familiar face, that nagging sensation at the back of his mind. "You'll probably beat my score. Lance kicks my butt at games all the time." Joe shrugs his shoulders a little bit, not terribly concerned about getting his butt handed to him by Silvia, or Lance… or Brynn. Or Hailey. How does he lose to the feral girl? He's still not figured that one out.
He keeps glancing back at the bar though, just quick glances, but definitely there. "I think I recognize the woman at the bar with the eye… band… thingy? I can't quite place her though…" The game is started and it's smash buildings time. Right off the bat he has a hard time actually climbing the buildings and not getting shot off them by tanks and soldiers. He spots the little blonde girl nearby, and will wave at her if she looks their way, but will otherwise leave her to her game.
Crowded bars are a great place to disappear. Des Desjardins is attempting to live as normal a life as possible in the Safe Zone, and that means getting out of her apartment once in a while to go somewhere other than work. She probably should have asked someone to come with her, but she's a bit of a lone wolf at the best of times these days.
There's a glass of cheap beer in one hand and a plastic light zapper the color of electric lemonade in the other. Des fires on wave after wave of computer generated zombies just down the row from where the little blonde holds her blaze orange plastic rifle.
A strand of dark hair is blown out of her face where it had fallen in front of her darker glasses. These zombies don't turn into cherry cobbler. This is terribly unrealistic. But she's racking up a score that'll put her on the leader board for sure, so the game isn't all bad. It's kind of fun, actually.
"Oh. Well, I knew that," Silvia stated, sticking her tongue out at Joe in retaliation for pointing out that she'd miscalculated her assessment of the console. "Lance beats you? I would have thought you'd be the good one."
"You'll beat me though," Silvia continues. "I don't have practice with these sorts of games. I've been to an arcade or two, but most of the máquinas I've played on have been pretty beat up or broken. So you have a fighting chance, don't give up hope."
Robyn's eye centers on the youngest of the of the kids she sees in the barcade tonight, and she furrows her brow. She certainly looks the youngest, at least. Taking a bite of her burger, she picks of the cheap plastic basket it's in, grabs her bottles, and makes her way over to the arcade games. Something has her feeling a bit concerned. Maybe it's harder to be "off" lately. No one would blame her.
Making her way over to shooting game between the two - it says "Time Cop" at the top, and Robyn is pretty that's either preposterous or a game someone she knows made. She really hopes it's not the latter. Setting drink and food down on the flattest surfaces of the machines, she slips a few quarters in and draws out the gaudy, oversized red pistol.
"You would think. But I think he cheats. Not sure how, but I think he does. Maybe he like… blanks the sound for him so that he can focus on the game more without the sound effects distracting him. I don't know. But he kicks my butt all the time. And then crows about it. I mean.. brags about it." Joe correcting himself for the girl still getting a handle on her English.
"I never give up hope. I'm like a hope machine. I just bubble over with it and drown people around me with it. Or something." A glance down the way towards the zombie game. "Watch out for the super zombie coming up. Like… a couple minutes. He's a royal pain!" Shouted down to Des down at her zombie game. It's one he's played before.
Joe lets his eyes wander back to the bar and it gets him killed. Or at least that's what he'll claim. "Aww what? How did it… I totally dodged that tank fire." He grumbles about the lost life and goes back to wrecking things, getting his vengeance from that tank first and foremost. "See, told you you'd probably beat me. I already died and you've got like double my points now. How? How do you have double my points?!"
Cuz Joe doesn't… focus. He screws around, randomly jumping around to go attack different buildings and people and units. He plays games like he lives life. Random and chaotic. Then a Robyn comes over and occupies the next case over. "Holy shit!" Joe doesn't swear, like ever. Well not ever since he just did, but hardly never. "Quinn!" And then he steps from the machine over to Quinn and he totally attacks her. Like with all of the love. Every last bit of it.
"OHMYGODQUINNHOWAREYOUEVENHERE?!?!" Comes pouring out of his mouth in one long string with zero pauses between the words. Unless she tries to get away from suddenly being hugged, she's totally going to get hugged by the Joe.
Sibyl is aware of Des and Robyn in her peripheral vision in the same way that she's aware of everyone else: peripherally. (Funny how that works.) Three measured pulls of the rifle's trigger land her in Leaf River, Quebec, where the game announces she'll be hunting for caribou.
She repositions her feet, adopting a proper shooter's stance. It's difficult to know what she might be thinking based on her face's stormy expression, but if the older women could read her mind, it would be something about the size of the caribou's antlers and how much more gratifying it's going to be to see them topple.
There's tension in her shoulders and neck. Stress creates deep grooves around the corners of her mouth, making her look older and more angular than she probably is.
"You could have dodged, it was right there," Silvia protests. But she doesn't dare give Joe advice on how to play the game, nor how to live his life. She doesn't know him well enough for that. But then she winces as suddenly Joe's voice comes pouring out and then ohgodthingsarehappening. She doesn't freak out though, gripping the edge of the arcade machine and waiting to see what happens.
"Um…" Robyn is shocked as she's attack hugged by someone who she doesn't know at all. Except… they called her Quinn. "Do I know you?" There's a coldness to her voice, an uncertainty. It's one of the kids she was watching, which is a little more worrisome. Not that she thinks she'll need it, but she is suddenly keenly aware that her gun is not on her person, and is instead in her purse at her feet. She eyes the young man for a moment, trying to pull some sort of recognition out, then up to Silvia, and finally to Sibyl, whom she cants her head at as she watches. She recognises a proper shooting stance - Raith made her practice hers often. Curious.
Keira isn't quite herself tonight. Quite literally, she is not her — she is, instead, in the skin of a tallish young man, dressed in a leather jacket and tight-fitting jeans, with probably too much grease in his brown-black hair. It's the only way she can really enjoy being out in public any more, when she's not herself — and this fellow and his clothing lend well to the environment here, anyhow.
So she's a he right now. He's currently hanging out at a pinball machine, shifting his body around along with the ball as he plays his game. Dark brown eyes venture about as he loses the ball, brows raised as he glances around, taking in all of the different faces. Then, he turns his eyes back down to the game, sending the ball back out. He just listens, for now.
Joe laughs at Silvia's statement. "Yeah probably. Lance says I don't pay enough attention and I just bounce around too much. He's probably right." A quick and wide grin is flashed at Silvia before the whole oh my god it's a Quinn thing. Then he's hugging a Quinn, but only for a few moments as she asks if she knows him. He steps back, blinking a few times and looking like he might be genuinely hurt by that, then he ohs softly and blushes. "Oh yeah uhh…"
He scuffs his sneaker on the floor a time or two. "Sorry about that. It's… Joe. From the Lighthouse? And Bannerman's Castle and…" And all the other places all those kids got hidden away at. "Sorry. I guess it's been awhile. I grew up and everything. Not little anymore. I mean well, not little little." Joe isn't a big guy, he never will be. But he makes up for it with sheer character. Or at least he tries to.
Joe doesn't know Quinn is thinking about her gun, not that it would do any good against the kid, but it's probably best he doesn't know she's thinking about her gun. "Silvia this is… well.. this is Quinn. She's one of the amazing people responsible for keeping all of us Lighthouse Kids alive. He sees where Robyn's gaze goes, to Sibyl, and he peers too. He recognizes a proper gun stance as well. He doesn't think anything of it though since you know… he was totally training with guns at her age. "Those poor Caribou do you wrong?" He asks of Sibyl. Joe can totally carry on four conversations at once.
Sibyl slides a look down her rifle at Joe. "Lighthouse kids," she repeats, like that means something. And maybe it does where she comes from, which is Staten Island. Her brows raise, the caribou forgotten for the moment, although she does not step out of her stance.
The game continues to count down and a muffled voice hiccuping inside the console's broken speaker reminds her to pump the rifle to reload.
"I thought you were all eaten by dogs."
The sudden cry of exuberance from Joe as he approaches Quinn catches Des off her guard. She's used to the barks of laughter from the drunks in the corner, but the machines nearby tend not to be the type that inspire shouting. Not that kind anyway.
Taking her attention off the game to assess the situation, when she turns back, it's too late. With a growl of frustration, she watches the Game Over screen splash up. When it comes time to enter her initials, she doesn't enter DLD but OK. That at least draws a small smile to her lips. It's rather stupid, but she holds on to this one thing.
The plastic gun is slid back into its steel holster attached to the machine and she pushes away from it, watching where the children are talking, and that dark-haired woman—
"Fuck," Des hisses under her breath as she backs up slowly. She recognizes that face from a lifetime ago, even with the scar and the patch. — Bit amusing, that. Or it would be if she wasn't afraid of being recognized herself.
"I'm starting to think Lance is right," Silvia says, studying Joe for a long moment. "Rebotar…" She mutters to herself as she looks from Joe to Robyn, looking about as bewildered as the latter might be. She offers an awkward smile at Robyn as she's introduced. "Silvia," she says simply. And then there's the quip about dogs and suddenly she's not sure how she's supposed to react. "Uhhh…" She'll just remain speechless.
When Joe knew her, Robyn Quinn spoke with an Irish accent clear as day. So when she looks dead at him and says "Es-tu fou?" at him in a mostly perfect French accent, it probably sounds a bit off. "Keep your voice down," she chastises, looking around the bar. Not only is just not a great idea, she doesn't entire like being recognised as Ferry. At least not nights like tonight.
She glances over Des, who is backing away and curisng, and Robyn shakes her head. "You're bothering people." She offers the woman a smile - if there's anything familiar about her, Robyn doesn't pick up on it. "My apologies."
But then Sibyl gets her attention, and Robyn looks to her with narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?" she says, now intensely interested in the girl. She doesn't take well to jokes about the death of children - particularly not the Lighthouse Kids she helped watch over.
"I said," Sibyl repeats. "I thought. They were. All eaten. By. Dogs."
The hairs on the back of her neck prickle at Robyn's tone. Defensiveness meets defensiveness, but maybe some clarification is necessary. "That's what they tell people on Staten Island. You stay away from the Lighthouse, or—" She makes a gesture with the plastic rifle, which is obnoxiously bright now that she's really paying attention to it, she thinks. "Dogs'll get you."
Sibyl is the distraction that saves Des from having to do more than mutter "It's nothing," to Robyn's and Joe's apologies. This was a mistake. Making a bee line for the door, she stops just before she reaches it to down the last of her beer like a pro and sets the glass down on the nearest flat surface before heading out into the night, to go straight home.
Silvia was going to comment on being eaten by dogs but as Joe mentions 'just one of us' she thinks better of it. She doesn't know the story there. Instead she looks at Joe and launches into a string of Spanish once she's caught his gaze. "No sé lo que pasó, pero eres fuerte. Eres fuerte y no dejarás que esto te afecte. ¿Entendido?"
It doesn't matter that he doesn't understand Spanish and therefore doesn't process a word she's saying, the important thing is her tone is strong, inspirational, and she's clearly giving him a peptalk.
A hand reaches out, placed on to Joe's shoulder. "It's fine." Only kind of. She isn't thrilled that they apparently scared off the other woman. "Think before speaking," she chides, though she offers him a smile. She picks up her glass, before looking back to Sibyl with an unamused look. "Staten Island." That explains a lot. "Well. It did happen." She motions to Joe. "The one time." She offers a weak smile to the younger girl, whom as piqued her curiosity so. "Bit of a sore spot." Honestly. Robyn had - in all actuality - forgotten about that tragic occurrence until it had been brought up. It brings to mind more tragedies.
There's a reason she doesn't always like to talk about her time in the Ferry.
She doesn't question the girl on why the fuck is she on Staten Island, not yet at least. "Trying to scare you. And others. The Lighthouse was wonderful." Or at least the people from it, since she rarely went to the site itself. Silvia's Spanish gets a glance - not one of the languages she ever bothered to learn, which brings another frown to her face.
Well, there's nothing befuddling like receiving a peptalk in a language you don't understand. Joe looks at Silvia, his eyes blinking slowly as she speaks to him. He tries for a weak smile, and achieves it, if only for a moment or two. He pulls in a deep breath and holds it for a handful of moments, then lets it out in a long slow exhale. "I…"
Joe's head shakes a bit, clearly unable to tell Silvia the story of his friend Denisa and her grisly fate. He takes a couple more of those deep breaths, then looks up and over to Quinn. "I'm sorry. I was super excited to see you and… didn't think. I should have, but I didn't." Joe leans against the game cabinet for Rampage and looks back over to Silvia. "I'm surprised you didn't go Pearl on me when I flipped out." This time there is a small smile, like a for real one. Still a bit sad, but recovering. He bounces back quickly.
"I'm practicing to not Pearl," Silvia says while looking seriously at Joe. "Gotta save it for really spooky stuff or when I'm in real danger. If I'm gonna hang out with you, I've got to be used to how you react to things." Her gaze shifts towards Sibyl, who she hadn't really taken much of an opportunity to study before. Now she's taken in with her full gun-wielding glory.
"I should be scared," says Sibyl. "So should the others. So should you, probably." The game is asking her if she wants to continue. Her grip on the rifle goes slack and she lets it dangle at her side. "Your wonderful Lighthouse is in pieces. That stupid castle, too. Everything the Ferrymen touched— it all fell apart."
She's beginning to have suspicions about Robyn's identity, even if no amount of searching her face yields a name she might have pried from the pages of a book or an archived tribunal transcript somewhere. It does nothing to stymie her anger, only adds more fuel to it. Her voice grows thick. "Dogs. Soldiers. Mitchell. You've never been any good at protecting the things you're supposed to care about."
Trying not to get riled up is getting harder and harder as Robyn tries to not let someone much younger than her get to her so much. She grinds her teeth, giving Joe a don't look. "You aren't wrong," Robyn offers back to her in a soft voice - or at least what could be considered soft here. "There were missteps. Lots of them." She takes a deep breath. She hasn't been to see Pollepel since she came back to town, but the mention of it dredges memories up in the back of her mind.
Where are this kid's parents, anyway? Should she be making a call right about now? Her instincts say yes, but…
"Maybe…" She looks back to the game in front of her, a "Continue?" screen counting down to zero as she's clearly been to distracted to play the game. "We move on. Not here to talk about the past."
"Yeah that's… that's probably a good thing. I tend to react big." That's a bit of an understatement on Joe's part, but he's sorta owning up to his rather exuberant… everything. He breathes in again, then out and offers Silvia a more honest smile, then turns his attention on Sibyl. "That's really beyond unnecessary. The Ferry did the best that they could given the situation they found themselves in. They were good people that tried their best." He's speaking in a soft tone, trying to reason with the other teen. "But at least they /were/ trying. Most people just looked the other way."
He pauses a second, his head canting slightly to the side. He's clearly curious about her hatred for the Ferry, but he doesn't pry. Prying often has the opposite result when dealing with children. Something he's learned well over the years. He nods his head to Robyn's statement. "So how have you been? I… I mean obviously we don't all just get together and chat at Sunday dinner. But I always wonder about all the adults from back then. Have run into a few here. Now one more."
The pinball game finished, Keira-Guy straightens up, pulling down on his leather jacket to straighten it a bit. It's always awkward, being taller than he normally is. Fun, but awkward. Dark brown eyes scan the room again, not really recognizing anyone — well, Sibyl is a familiar face, if only because she was gravitating to the Giantess Huruma last he saw her. She seems mad. There are people. He is not himself…so really, what is there to lose?
With a few long strides, he promptly puts a coin into Sibyl's game machine, flashing his bright white teeth in a grin to the girl. "Game's on me." He'll probably get yelled at by the angry girl for interjecting stupidly, but again…what's there to lose? Not like she'll recognize him in a few hours, anyhow.
"Big reactions from such a scrawny kid," Silvia teases playfully, trying to make light of things. She's doing her best to keep Joe acting like himself and if she has to give another Spanish peptalk she will. The Ferry talk is mostly beyond her. She never saw any radical actions by any Ferrymembers, the ones she knew were certainly well-meaning. So she doesn't speak up on that. What can she really say?
Sibyl slams the rifle down. It clatters noisily back into the cradle. Later it will occur to her that she didn't even get one shot off. Later it will occur to her that she was too liberal with her opinions. Later it will occur to her that she was maybe a little mean toward someone who didn't deserve it.
Later.
She does not want to continue, apparently. She swings her boot into the side of the console with a resounding thump to release some of the frustration she'd been hoping to vent with the caribou. "Your best isn't good enough," she spits at Joe. To Robyn: "And the past is the only thing that matters. It's what informs the future, you stupid—"
Whatever word she'd selected for Robyn turns to ash in her mouth. To her credit, she doesn't yell at Keira, but the presence of a fourth person has her rethinking the amount of attention this argument is attracting.
Without another word, she shoulders past Keira, draws up the collar of her coat, and booms out the front door with enough force to make it jolt in its frame.
Robyn watches as the strange man comes up and spurs Sybil into leaving in the midst of her fit, looking at him with disdain. "Merde," she mumbles, pushing past him, past Joe, past Silvia, in an attempt to keep an eye on the girl - more than just the outburst worries her. But she loses her before she can even each the door, resulting in a long sigh. Taking a deep breath, she turns back to Joe and Silvia.
"Joe." She offers a weak smile, walking up to him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "I am happy to see you. To see you well." One hand reaches up, tapping against the side of his head. "Think. We won. Doesn't mean everyone likes us." She pats him on the shoulders, releasing him. "I don't advertise that I work for SESA. Don't advertise the Ferry." She smiles at him a bit more earnestly this time. "Time, and place, for everything."
With that, she looks over to Silvia, quirking her eyebrow. "Missed your name. Robyn Quinn." She, naturally, assumes this is Joe's girlfriend or something like that.
Joe looks up and over as a new guy steps into the equation. Joe smiles again, a thankful smile as the guy seems to be trying to break up some of the tension that's definitely building in the group. "Thanks, he offers vocally to the guy before he looks back at Silvia, blinking once, twice, then cracking a smile and a soft laugh at her teasing and trying to break the tension up too. "There's a lot of bad history for a lot of people." He says, his hands lifting in a 'what can you do?' sort of gesture. "It can be hard to let go of the past for some people. For a lot of people honestly."
Joe sighs as Sibyl storms off, a sad look on his features. "That girl needs a hug." He declares in a firm tone, then gives his head a small shake and looks back up to Robyn. "I know. But they should. You guys put life and limb on the line to help people. You did everything you could. You guys did so much. It's not right for people to hold it against you that you couldn't protect everyone and every thing. And it's awesome to see you too."
He's gonna get another hug now, stepping in to wrap arms around Robyn. "Robyn now? And yeah Silvia introduced herself but it was… like right as Madame Angry Pants started up her tirade. Robyn now? Okay. Robyn this is Silvia, a friend of mine that I met at the Red Hook market a few days back. Silvia this is Robyn. She's awesome peoples."
Then something Robyn said has his head jerking back around. "You work for SESA? Like… for the government and…" Joe is confused by that move. Robyn Quinn working for SESA.
Silvia offers a bright smile. "Encantado de conocerte. If Joe says you're 'awesome peoples' then I, too, will consider you 'awesome peoples'." She stifles a bit of a giggle as she looks between Joe and Robyn, letting the two talk without interrupting too much.
Keira-guy blinks a few times after Sibyl, quirking an eyebrow. Then, there's a beep from his pocket as a cell phone alarm goes off. The phone is pulled out, examined, before the man clears his throat, suddenly making a beeline for the bathrooms, a nervous look on his face. Shit. Stayed a little longer than he would've liked.
"Yes." The response from Robyn is dry, and even as she talks to Joe, she's still occasionally looking back towards the door. She's a bit on alert now. "Not all of us can be librarians. Mercenaries. Counselors." Her expression is flat, unamused - she's grown weary of getting that reaction from people. "We all have our way of continuing to fight."
Another glance to the door. "That girl needs…" She just trails off, shaking her head. Her thoughts are filed into the back of her mind. It probably wasn't worth worrying too much about, but still. A young child in a bar, no parents in sight and vehemently negative about the Ferry…
Later.
"For now… I have food to finish." She looks at the arcade machines, before noticing that X-Men cabinet, spots for six players. "And a drink. Shall we?"