[ @netherworldflower ;; Star-den Tea Party (ROULETTE STARTER) ]
If nothing else, free catering is always a temptation that Gregor can't resist. There seems to be a lot of that going on this week, treats and snacks and delicious grilled meals open almost around the clock. He isn't sure what all the festivities are for, but he's more than willing to take advantage of them.
And take advantage of them is certainly his objective for tonight's dinner.
He'd been meandering around the space station for the better part of the day after he found out the panel he'd stumbled into could teleport folks just like the W Corp train system does, idly perusing what felt like endless kiosks and stores. Being in space was weirdly mundane for how novel a concept it sounded. He spends most of his time away from any windows or outlooks, sequestered somewhere between the gardens and the mall for most of his trip. The space station was indulging in festivities as much as the Isola itself— he's just glad the tea party event was still going by the time he realized it was there.
…Even if some of the atmospheric indoors space-y stuff for the little event is making it hard to actually see where he's going.
Gregor ducks out of the way of a large, bright ball hovering plainly at head height as he turns the corner around a tall hedge. The only warning he gets is a flash of blonde hair and red fabric before he knocks square into a girl a few inches shorter than himself.
Gregor's pilfered sandwiches meet a very sad end on the carefully maintained grass, the contents spilled in a scatter of ham, olives, and cheese.
"Ah scheiße," he cusses, fumbling to get a better grip his only slightly spilled cup of tea with his one good hand. It left a small wet streak down the front of his white work shirt, but not much else, thankfully. His sandwiches are goners, but at least his dignity is intact.
"Shoot. I didn't get you, did I?"
