#c:disaster

[She’s finally gotten out of the Catch, and is adjusting her scarf. It’s later than she’d intended to stay, certainly, but there were a few distracting conversations that, while not what she’d call enjoyable, had wasted a lot of her evening.]

[A young volunteer, one of the ones who had been slated to carry dishes back and forth from the kitchen, exits the back door with a tray full of dirty glasses. Apparently the facilities at the bar aren’t equipped to handle this volume of people---and Clove has had a few drinks herself, despite the quality of liquor available. Her water-only plan had lasted a while, but she’d turned desperate pretty quickly as more people had talked to her.]

[ It unfortunately does nothing to improve her mood watching the boy stumble. In the dim light that filters out from the windows, and the one lamp attached to the outside of the back door, he can’t see much of the ground and missteps, tripping over his own feet. The tray flies from his grip and lands with a crash, a tumbler narrowly missing Clove before it shatters on the dirt beside her.]

[He freezes, stupidly, and Clove loses the last of her patience. She steps over the shards of glass, and snatches the tray from the ground.] Excellent job. 

[The boy blinks at her, shock and something akin to terror etched over his young features, but she snaps more fiercely, as she crouches down and begins to pick up the bigger pieces, piling them back onto the tray.] I’ll deal with this. If you’re desperate to be helpful, you can go bring another light out here, so I can see what I’m doing---something you probably should’ve had in the first place. [He doesn’t need to be told twice, which is one small point in his favour, and flees back inside.]

Rosabel: Big mood