BEING a hero hasn’t been easy. it’s more of a test of her patience than the other side, being that it doesn’t come naturally. the good, the camaraderie –– it’s never been necessary for her. and now that it is, she finds herself learning. it’s not about what’s right, it’s about what she needs to do. and cassia, as adaptable as she is, realizes not everyone around her is willing to do the same. everyone’s incessant need to point fingers her way. a whisper. a glare. for a group of heroes, she finds the lot rather hypocritical and the drama a bit exhausting. “ LOOK. if this is another passive aggressive question about the coffee machine. i still don’t know who broke it and i miss my morning americano, too. ” it’s an assumption and a clear sign her steely patience is wearing thin. she bites her tongue and settles silently into her chair to keep from saying what she really wants to: people are dying and starbucks is a thing.
The brunette blinks slowly and then frowns. “Coffee? Oh goodness, no, caffeine messes too much with my spiritual enlightenment.” Her expression is entirely serious and perhaps even a little worried. “What is an americano? Is that some special kind of coffee? Can only Americans drink it? That’s so peculiar.” A smile pulls at her lips as she adjusts the hood of her attire. “Either way, I was coming over to ask how you’ve been getting on. I know it can be quite scary to be new to the League, but we are all family, right? Well, not literally. I haven’t told mother and father about being in the League, actually-” She cuts herself off, realizing she’s rambling. “You seem tired. Can I perhaps get you a coffee elsewhere?”














