(no subject)

[the-damsel.livejournal.com]

A young woman with a tangle of dark, curly, brown hair was sitting alone in a booth. Several items were abandoned on the table before her, including a small, leather-bound journal and a plate with a half-eaten chicken salad sandwich. Her bright blue eyes were perusing the pages of the New York Times, although closer inspection would have revealed that they didn't seem to be settling on anything.

She certainly looked like April O'Neil, yet if you were to judge by steely, distant expression alone, you would have easily mistaken her for someone else. There was also the matter of a certain gold locket being conspicuously absent from its previously permanent place around her neck.


[OOC: 4:00 PM ET - Mun is leaving work now, and going to do real life-ish stuff. Will be back in a few hours.]

Comments

[the-damsel.livejournal.com]

April smiled in return, but really, she couldn't possibly compete with his wattage. "I'm serious. You should know that." She wasn't sure if he had seen the letter -- If any of them had, come to think of it -- or if it had even made sense.

[mnt_mike]

Mike turns a very mike shade of sheepish. It's the sort of look that one gives one's mother when she tells them to bundle up, it's cold out.

"I know, April. I know."

[the-damsel.livejournal.com]

"Okay. As long as you do." She gave him a squeeze in reciprocation.