08-17-2014, 08:57 PM
Old buildings like these were not designed for mass stampedes. Thankfully, the library hall was not full to the rafters. Yet the few diners, selection of drink and food servers, and the like made for a bit of a confusion. Especially when low light situations were involved.
To aid, Torri pulled her Wallet from her clutch. The Med-issue device was built for rugged wear and tear. Such was one of the reasons it was outrageously expensive. Another reason why she got a butt-chewing upon debrief in Moscow. The rebels in DV took hers. It was worthless now, having been rendered defunct by the telemedicine department.
New one in hand, she pulled up a standard application flashlight function and used it to guide their way forward.
She looked up at Drayson. They were being ushered down the stairs. Apparently the fire in the kitchen was large enough to warrant an evacuation, but really, could they not have waited five more minutes? It was physically painful to leave their entrees behind.
She had no idea where their coat room was, but the host was not exactly waiting to take her ticket as she stepped out. So the cold Christmas air felt like a slap on the face. Immediately, ice prickled the inside of her nostrils. Her hair crinkled with ice shards as snow settled on her shoulders without melting. Drayson's jacket was more than welcome, but did little good. It was soaking wet as she. Stories of madmen jumping into frozen lakes came to mind. Her teeth chattered and she pulled her arms close to her chest.
She scoffed at the idea of catching a cold. That bloody old wives tale really drove her crazy. Being cold got nobody sick. But it might make you lose appendages to frostbite.
"A taxi, sure."
She wasn't sure if she was more irritated at the fact that she was shaking head to toe, had lost her coat to the restaurant, missed getting to eat a succulent meal, or disappointed in this disaster of a blind date. Drayson had been lovely company. Now, with her hair pasted to her cheeks, her mood soured, and his facing an hour on the metro, she assumed this would be the last she saw of him.
They were but two of a gathering of people on the walk between the restaurant and the street. Taxis were quickly being hailed and speeding away with their passengers, but there was not an abundance of options. Days before Christmas, traffic was heavy and taxis were in demand. She assumed that under normal circumstances, the typical wait would be 30 minutes or more in advance. She had a car service app on her Wallet, but her fingers were too numb to activate the Wallet screen and her hands too shaky to pull up the correct commands. Slush was being splashed on her ankles as people trampled by, and Torri stepped in close to Drayson. People tended to give him a wide berth.
She looked up at him and the directness of her gaze softened. Through clenched teeth she forced herself to speak clearly. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners. Come back with me. You can't sit in the metro for an hour in soaking wet clothes and shoes and without your coat. You'll be at risk of frostbite, particularly on your toes. At least come for tea. And we can order take out."
Her brows furrowed down, hopeful that he made a decision fast. She was painfully cold.
To aid, Torri pulled her Wallet from her clutch. The Med-issue device was built for rugged wear and tear. Such was one of the reasons it was outrageously expensive. Another reason why she got a butt-chewing upon debrief in Moscow. The rebels in DV took hers. It was worthless now, having been rendered defunct by the telemedicine department.
New one in hand, she pulled up a standard application flashlight function and used it to guide their way forward.
She looked up at Drayson. They were being ushered down the stairs. Apparently the fire in the kitchen was large enough to warrant an evacuation, but really, could they not have waited five more minutes? It was physically painful to leave their entrees behind.
She had no idea where their coat room was, but the host was not exactly waiting to take her ticket as she stepped out. So the cold Christmas air felt like a slap on the face. Immediately, ice prickled the inside of her nostrils. Her hair crinkled with ice shards as snow settled on her shoulders without melting. Drayson's jacket was more than welcome, but did little good. It was soaking wet as she. Stories of madmen jumping into frozen lakes came to mind. Her teeth chattered and she pulled her arms close to her chest.
She scoffed at the idea of catching a cold. That bloody old wives tale really drove her crazy. Being cold got nobody sick. But it might make you lose appendages to frostbite.
"A taxi, sure."
She wasn't sure if she was more irritated at the fact that she was shaking head to toe, had lost her coat to the restaurant, missed getting to eat a succulent meal, or disappointed in this disaster of a blind date. Drayson had been lovely company. Now, with her hair pasted to her cheeks, her mood soured, and his facing an hour on the metro, she assumed this would be the last she saw of him.
They were but two of a gathering of people on the walk between the restaurant and the street. Taxis were quickly being hailed and speeding away with their passengers, but there was not an abundance of options. Days before Christmas, traffic was heavy and taxis were in demand. She assumed that under normal circumstances, the typical wait would be 30 minutes or more in advance. She had a car service app on her Wallet, but her fingers were too numb to activate the Wallet screen and her hands too shaky to pull up the correct commands. Slush was being splashed on her ankles as people trampled by, and Torri stepped in close to Drayson. People tended to give him a wide berth.
She looked up at him and the directness of her gaze softened. Through clenched teeth she forced herself to speak clearly. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners. Come back with me. You can't sit in the metro for an hour in soaking wet clothes and shoes and without your coat. You'll be at risk of frostbite, particularly on your toes. At least come for tea. And we can order take out."
Her brows furrowed down, hopeful that he made a decision fast. She was painfully cold.