Hello, since I am evil and subjected you to this ask game, I will also subject you to asks mwahahaha :))))
This is from Rifters (series 1), where Kathryn is living in a steampunk/superhero world, becoming a part of the younger-hero-training-school-place. Her stint as a superhero has made her some enemies, and her friends from that world also have enemies. One of them is trying to tear down the superhero structure from the inside out, and so, as a first step, has sent his best asset minion adopted son and secret weapon to infiltrate the hero guild place (I really need to define things) as a spy. Part of his mission is also to locate a specific hero who has no traceable identity but has been a thorn in super villain's sides ever since, uh, *checks notes* the out-of-world newcomer came in and stopped the apocalypse.
“Anything else you want to say before I slam the door in your face?” He asked—hoping his bitingly sarcastic tone and smile left her little doubt that he meant it.
“What about dinner?” she asked.
Eabennor stared at her, halfway between exasperated and confused. “I have no idea why you’d think I’d be interested.”
Kathryn blinked. “…In eating?”
“What?”
“Since you just got here you have to sign up for dinner,” Kathryn explained, tilting her head. “Though I suppose you’re probably not keen on interacting with people, or not today at least.”
“Oh.”
“But you should still eat,” she continued, “even if you’re not interested. The food is very good here.”
“Yeah, probably.” Eabennor bit back any other comments that might embarrass him further—though thankfully she seemed dumb enough to not have noticed.
“Supper time is usually at 6:30,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “I’ll talk to someone in the kitchen about setting aside a plate. If you go down at 7:30-ish, it should be pretty clear, at least besides the kitchen crew cleaning up. How long that takes can vary, though, so I can’t give you a solid estimate on how long they’ll be there.”
“Good to know,” he said flatly, considering the viability of carrying out his threat from earlier. This whole conversation—no, this whole day—had been a complete trainwreck, and he desperately wanted to be left alone.
“Exact details for the future can be figured out later, though,” she said, smiling brightly, as if looking forward to the conversation had given her a new meaning in life—obnoxiously cheery, he thought to himself—“Matthias is the first door coming into the hallway, and I’m in the hall across the way, so if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Is that all.”
“One last thing,” she added, with what he could have sworn was a mischievous glint in her eye, “I hope you have a lovely rest of your day.”
Maybe it was petty, but slamming the door did turn out to be quite cathartic.
