#thisismystage:asks

[gaerlhoss]

⤷ ✧ @thisismystage said, ❝ they’ll expect you downstairs soon. ❞ for hardison.

❛ yeah, yeah. I know. tell 'em I'll be there. just... a few minutes. ❜ he definitely means it. he definitely isn't avoiding parker's newest enforced team christmas festivities. definitely not. the tablet which ostensibly consumes so much of his focus flashes, and he curses under his breath and unplugs the drive, blinking desperately until the afterimage fades. ❛ if I'm not blinded for the rest of my life, that is. ❜

and what began as sardonic quip quickly brightens his mood. ❛ actually, tell 'em I can't come because I have to take myself to the hospital to get my eyes checked out so I'm not blinded for the rest of my life. ❜

its faded already, however, and his eyes alight upon her and her expression. ❛ not gonna work, huh? ❜

[gaerlhoss]

⤷ ✧ @thisismystage said, ❝ did we lose them? ❞ for eliot.

did he lose them, she means, eliot thinks to himself. but for sophie, he'll keep it as no more than a thought, will save any grumbling for later. there's no time for the semantics of it, regardless, and having strode into the room full of purpose, he will not be stopped, not by her question or by any bitterness for implications she did not intend. his fingers close upon her upper arm, hand at her back to steer her away from the table and towards the other door, his answer mumbled in her ear: ❛ wouldn't count on it. ❜

and though everything in his demeanor already conveys it, he adds, ❛ it's time to go. ❜ he does not need to glance over his shoulder, though he listens for footsteps other than their own, for the inevitable shouting of security guards who with wounded prides might forget all they know about stealth. and though he hears nothing — yet — he won't be putting any bets on that signifying any semblance of good news.

[gaerlhoss]

⤷ ✧ @thisismystage said, ❝ some fresh air might be nice. ❞ for elizabeth.

it must show, elizabeth thinks to her chagrin. something in the tension in her jaw, the rigidness of her spine, the tone of her voice that comes so very very close to snapping and giving each and every one of them a piece of her mind. the chill of glass taps once against her forearm, and she realizes for the first time that she'd crossed her arms, sometime during her conversation.

the woman's words serve as a dismissal, as if in making the suggestion the woman announced that elizabeth's attention was henceforth hers, a brief excursion outside all but decided upon. shaking her head, elizabeth unfolds her arms, rolling the tension from her shoulders as surreptitiously as possible, and accepts the proffered glass. ❛ if I had suggested needing a breath of fresh air, they'd have continued talking as if they hadn't heard. ❜ elizabeth doesn't ask how she did it, though she half wishes to. ❛ so, thank you, I guess. ❜ her gaze trails in the direction of the politicians who have already taken up a new conversation, drawing others into their gravity with a surety she despises.

❛ though, I might take this opportunity to escape for the evening. I'm not sure even fresh air can steel me to deal with more of that. ❜ one thing, first, as much reflex as conscious intent: she extends a hand in introduction. ❛ elizabeth. ❜