@ladyxlight:
Tandy tried not to visibly cringe at the reports coming from the television. It wasn’t like it was anything new, after all. Eventually she figured she would likely just figure out how to numb herself to these reports like she tried to do with anything that ever brought her mother up.
(Though if she were more honest with herself, she would have to admit that she actually did care more than she let on. As far as being numb went, Tandy was not as successful in that endeavor as she tried to tell herself that she was.)
And as far as all of this registration stuff went – how could she not get sick of it when she was right in the middle of it? Even if the general population realized didn’t happen to be aware of that fact about her.
“Vodka mixed with anything you’ve got to mix it with.” She sighed, sliding onto one of the bar stools and making herself smile. “Honestly I’m not picky.”
It was impossible not to notice more than passing interest in the registration news – Luke could see something on his new customer’s face that said she spent more time thinking about it than the average bear. Couldn’t help but consider her more closely. She looked strong, but half the women in the city spent an hour a day in a gym, and that didn’t mean too much. Steel backbone, though, plain as day.
“Vodka,” he agreed, pulling up an old fashioned glass. Vodka, a good one, in case it got her tongue wagging, a little ice. Soda water, cranberry juice, twist of lemon. Might not be picky but it didn’t mean she didn’t deserve a little more spoiling than some splash of seven-up.
“Look like you’re havin’ one of those weeks, you don’t mind me saying,” he said, pouring himself a glass of water and wishing caffeine still gave him the kick it used to. He drained it and left it on the glass washer, returned to polishing glasses. On the television was yet another vox pop about the ‘superhero issue’, some folks saying no one else was keeping the city safe, others insisting vigilantes impinged on the rights of ordinary criminals.