Barrier Gate Station West Wing Pub, The Lone Drunkard

[Commissar]

Sarah shrugged gratefully, dislodging a hopeful spider that had evidently taken to the concept of her arm as basis for a web.
"Well, any help's welcome, obviously." She gestured to the projector, ignoring the fact the Osiris had faded from view a good few minutes before. "I need to know where that thing came from... Not all of them, just that one. I know the Order built them later... But I don't think they sorted the first one, you know?" She glanced up from the table as she finished the sentence, expecting the bar to be more or less as it had been.

Suffice to say the Rogue nearly fell off her chair when she saw posters going up. Wasn't that the same man who'd been waving an assault rifle around earlier? Sarah curled her nose up as the smoke from Emma's cigarette wafted over her. She'd never liked the things. Smelt as though someone was holding a faulty hydraulic line under her nose, and it was about as hard to get out of her dress.

"Busy, huh." She remarked drily.

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May you live in interesting times.
| Sarah McFarlen | Jane Hartman |