back to the future

"Ugh, today is absolutely the worst!" Gigi exclaimed. Her bottom lip jutted into a pout from where she sat sprawled across one of the beds. With the power outages all over town, she'd managed to procure her and her brother rooms at the Emerald Hotel whom had thankfully managed to get their generator up and running. Hers was free, courtesy of her being a fae, and the verdict was still out on Weijun's, but at least they would both be able to spend the night with AC. "My oven was practically murdered by the heat. Murdered. Do you know how expensive ovens are in this day and age? And if that wasn't bad enough, my wireless straightener went out on me mid straighten. I had to wear my hair up in a messy bun for the rest of the day in an attempt to say the travesty. So much for the 24-hour charge. That's like totally false advertising, and to make matters even worse, look at this!" She exclaimed as she motioned to the spot patches she had placed above her brow. "I think I might be breaking out. I haven't broken out since I was fourteen. I'm known for my flawless skin! What am I supposed to do with this?" She let out a dramatic sigh, before she leaned forward and nudged her brother with the tip of her foot. "Have you heard anything about whether our places have power yet?" She asked, having been checking the electricity grid every so often on her phone, but there was still nothing on her end. And here she had thought buying a cute Victorian-style home on the beach would be a good idea, but of course the historic home didn't have a generator, and while she was starting to think it would be smart to save up and invest in one, she still had to consider a new oven first and foremost. The thoughts made her want to throw herself back against a bed and scream into a pillow.

But the moment the word murdered left Gigi's mouth, he shot upright. "...Who got mur—" His brain caught up with a slow exhale. "...Right. The oven." He eased himself back onto the carpet with a shake of his head. "One day you're gonna say someone's been murdered and I'm not gonna believe you."

He let her continue uninterrupted, only offering the occasional sympathetic hum and "oof" as she lamented the state of her hair, her oven, and now her skin. By the end of it, he'd somehow circled back to lying flat on the floor again, hands folded over his stomach as he stared sideways at her. "For what it's worth," he said after a moment, squinting more to look at her, "I genuinely can't tell. I think you're the only person who'd notice."

When she nudged him with her foot, he reached up and gave it an absent-minded shove away. "Nah. Last I checked, my place was still out too." His gaze drifted back to the humming air conditioner. "How long do you think I can stay here? This place is slick. I forgot how nice air conditioning is. Missed this more than cable television."

Though Donna was six months into her tenure as Coalition Leader, her office space stayed firmly and presently placed at Cove & Associates. While she frequently went to the Coalition Headquarters for work, and she used the old leader's office, it was hard to make that space into her own. Benjamin anak Bandi's personal effects still remained about, some in boxes and some still scattered in his rush to attend to the family emergency that kept him from re-election. That office was useful when she needed to find something through previous meeting notes or, perhaps, if she wanted a Norton Anthology of Drama. But her office at Cove & Associates was her space. She'd worked her way up to it, and she'd never wanted to make another feel like it was hers. There was no space for her on campus, except when she took office hours at the library's small cafe. Most of the time, if Donna had meetings, any kind of meetings, they were here. She unfortunately could not be at Coalition Headquarters all the time. Besides, this space was more suitable. Not everyone that needed to see her was a member of the Coalition. Not all of them could meet her in a space they had no access to.

The office itself was full of darker tones and wood. Several bookshelves displaying law books, other texts that served their uses, and her numerous accolades, were behind her desk, with two chairs on the other side that she might discuss information with her clients. The desk had clutter, but it was organized. The room itself was larger than some of the others, a luxury that Donna earned from being a senior partner. There was also a nice leather couch with a coffee table, and two chairs facing it for a more casual setting to discuss business. Everything was arranged in such a way that allowed Donna to feel in control, just the way that she liked it.

She was searching through her file cabinet of relavent casework when she heard a knock on the door. Looking at the clock, Donna offered a warm, "Come in, please. Are you my 3:30?"

It still caught him off guard sometimes. Not because Donna looked old, she didn't, but she looked like someone who had the chance to keep living. For just a second, his brain still expected the Donna he remembered from the early nineties. Instead, there was this Donna. It was never unpleasant. Just strange that every now and then, seeing the years written into the faces of people he'd once known while his own hadn't changed.

"Hi," he finally greeted her properly. "Got you something." He crossed the room, setting the small bakery bag on the corner of her desk before she had a chance to object. "I wasn't sure if you'd had lunch, so... muffin? Figured it could at least be a good snack?"

Wei rocked on his heels, eyes drifting briefly around the office. "Cool place! Are all those books yours?" he asked curiously. But finding the reason he came here for, he turned attention back to her. "So... I've got a question, and I'm about seventy percent sure it's common sense but... since you're the Coalition Leader now, does that mean I have to... rejoin? I was already a member before all the..." He gestured vaguely to himself. Dying. "Ben was cool, but does new leadership mean new paperwork?"

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I offered to adjust your app settings."

One mention of Yasin's profession at the counter was rounding to an hour-long inspection of a stranger's phone. "And, uh, you may want to start password protecting your photos." Cat pics, exam cheat sheets, nudes, selfies, PINs...over the years, Yasin had seen it all!