4:12:3
Incoherent chatting, rapid continuous clickings and clackings, as well as footsteps all mix together though suppressed as if heard from beneath water. Though there is no water as there's an unobstructed view of the white ceiling providing balanced light with no specific source other than the gentle illumination emitting from the source, a color like fluorescent lights in that it's clean albeit without striking tones.
The walls have the same color, at least the ones ahead that open up to long corridors further on, branching off with visible doorways along the sides where figures visibly pass between, dressed in business attire that are buttoned shirts and dress pants or formal skirts.
They are mostly hidden though behind a set of holographic screens displayed upright, five of them specifically with multiple windows on the two screens on the edge, the leftmost one exhibiting various sites such as forums beside to the next display housing videos featuring a person speaking directly to the camera; the rightmost monitor displays several windows of logs seeming to be of messages, some of them being lists with various names and other windows show an open chat history with text bubbles down two opposite columns. In between the center and right screens are a few windows of diagrams of a device vaguely resembling a paper airplane with a sequence of rods down the center of varying heights, like many fins or rather back spines. Different diagrams provide view at various angles while others show images where the simple sheet exterior has been removed, revealing a complex interior of components attached on a main chassis, each one labeled in text.
In the center was a single window fully maximized, that window being on some application similar to a 3D modeling software given that there are tabs along the sides and top housing many icons and property windows, all surrounding the large model in the center which is strikingly similar to the spiky paper airplane from the diagrams, sitting in a black void with only spatial grids representing axes. One of the spikes along the airplane does change heights dynamically though, or more accurately it is being resized currently, the main focus of the man seated in front of the desk below these screens. He's dressed in a blue buttoned up shirt, slick black hair, his focused face one of a young adult no more than in his mid twenties. He has vibrant green eyes, visibly exhausted but persistent in his work, those irises darting around in examination of his model which he continues to refine. He grunts before murmuring in a whisper to himself, "Shit I didn't mean to do that," before rolling his eyes and refocusing ahead.
While his attention is locked to the screens, the desk has a few shelves of its own and additional space allowing for a few other amenities to lay around such as a tall silver cup to hold a beverage and a small Pouch sitting beside it, styled like a small messenger bag given the black leather exterior and strap. On the other side of the desk oddly enough sits five small figurines vaguely humanoid though with more child-like proportions, chibi perhaps, most of them in full body uniforms such as crimson armor with a red cross over a white helmet, a white tracksuit with a sky blue helmet fitted with black visors, and a simple black suit with purple painted streaks similar to the mask beneath the darker purple hood. There is one figure that isn't fully covered but instead in a forest green dress with a white skirt, the face revealed with emerald eyes and long amber hair. The last one is fully covered, instead dressed in an azure suit covering the body except for black boots and gauntlets, as well as a golden belt and pauldron pads over the upper arm, shoulders, and neck. Under the black hood attached to a solid cape frozen in a waving pose is a white mask with parallelogram blue goggles, though the parallelograms are pretty wide, the same as the pencil insignia on the center of the chest.
Those distant footsteps do gradually grow louder, specifically one pair, steady steps though approaching from ahead though the man doesn't take notice as the screens are in the way, his work instead taking priority in his attention. His head only turns in minor adjustments so his eyes can dart between the five screens around him, taking input from nearly all of them at once, his neck leaning slightly forward thus the back of his head only gently grazes the cushion of the black chair. Even when a silhouette of a man creeps up behind the screens, a shadow plastered over the desk, stopping in place silently somewhat menacingly, the man doesn't raise his head.
It's only then when a clear voice of a familiar man greets in a tone fairly friendly, "Hello Jarp, you called for me?"
In a heartbeat the working man identified as Jarp raises his head abruptly, the central holographic screen reducing its own opacity to let him see through better, his eyes wide in shock from the jumpscare as he apologizes, "Oh shoot, sorry I didn't see you there Dexter-!" The Latino man he apologizes to standing over him, dressed in a well-fitted gray blazer over a white buttoned shirt accompanied with a crimson tie, smiles gently with kind yet somewhat entrancing red starry irises below a kempt man bun before casually pacing around the desk and assuring, "No need, I didn't mean to scare you like that. What did you want to show me?"
After circling around the desk to stop beside Jarp, Dexter crosses his arms over his chest as all the sudden those diagrams on the right screen reappear spread out over all the other monitors except for the central one, covering up the forums, videos, and message logs. This allows for each diagram to be sized up better for visibility, though the relieved sigh from Jarp hints that the move doubles as a feeble attempt to conceal his own unofficial tasks, which does remain hidden albeit likely not due to that stunt, as instead Dexter's stare wanders down to the desk beside the screens, specifically onto the group of chibi figurines.
Immediately he intensely focuses on that set of five figurines all standing together, spaced just enough not to be pressed into each other but they don't occupy too much space, generally facing forward towards the chair, around where the man stands. Towering over the figurines like a colossus in comparison, the man in the crimson tie locks onto the inconspicuous figure, his casual gaze though having shifted into a suddenly hostile glare, scrunched eyebrows above crimson irises that slightly brighten on their own.
Slowly his focus fixates specifically on one specific figure above the rest, the one whose stiff black cape is lifted as if waving in a breeze heroically, exposing the azure back along with the golden belt. At this end of the violent staredown is the small toy about the size of the man's palm, stationary for it cannot be other, the cartoonishly wide parallelogram goggles staring back from the ghoulishly white mask. Or rather it's positioned such that the sculpted lenses face back at the man, for it cannot stare when it doesn't have eyes.
What does have eyes though is the man glaring back, those starry eyes flaring like a blazing sun, every brightening pulse conveying another thought doused in resentment, for it's as if he's on the verge of erupting.
"Anyways here's the model for the ART-37, Brundan gave me the sketches," Jarp abruptly introduces, immediately dimming the man's eyes back to its natural tint without supernatural glow, his eyebrows relaxing the same as his whole malicious face all within a second.
Replacing the frown of rancor with a casual smile as he turns his head back to the holographic screens, he listens in on the followup of: "I just wanted you to check it before I start compositing." Jarp then glances over to the man before shock hits him and he frantically offers, "Oh wait sorry, do you want a seat or-?"
The man he refers to shakes his head with a polite, "I'm fine, thank you," before he returns his gaze on the model, his stare sharpening for a keen analysis. Eyebrows scrunched though more in a professionally stern rather than one of boiling aversion; he keeps his arms crossed as he mentions, "Brundan had told me, though I'm surprised you made this already."
A relieved huff emits from Jarp with a proud smile as he begins to turn his head back to the screen while surmising, "So it's all good? Okay, I'll send it to-," before freezing upon the brief interruption, "Wait a moment, something's off," the brazen advancement having backfired as Jarp's head slumps low in shame.
Keeping his attention on the screens, his stern starry eyes sliding between the five monitors for a meticulous inspection, Dexter requests simply, "Flip the model please."
Abiding to the demand, Jarp returns his sights back to his work before the model of the drone in the center flips on its back, exposing the belly which has a slim extrusion down the center opposite from the row of spikes, however immediately upon view Dexter loosens his arms to point his right finger at that extrusion to then indicate, "The cabin's too narrow, it won't fit the necessary internals." He then points to one of the sketches on the other screens, specifically one of an underside view, drawing attention to the fact that indeed that extrusion is wider in the diagrams which he further specifies: "Make sure to follow the precise measurements for all components, though there don't appear to be other glaring problems. Actually, the wings might be too wide if anything."
Indeed upon a quick glance between the model's wings cross referenced with the ones in the many sketches as those wings are visible in nearly all of them, Jarp quickly realizes this truth in that the sketches show the wings more streamlined than what his model exhibits. He tchs to himself from the blatant mistake before acknowledging, "You're right, that's my bad."
Looming by him, Dexter continues to study the model with the sketches to spot other inconsistencies while a few other workers approach the room from the hallway ahead, many of them diverging into the doorways along the corridor walls instead. There is one however who continues to stroll down the corridor, a shorter African woman dressed in a navy blue blazer over a white collared shirt, her pencil skirt matching colors with the blazer. She smiles upon noticing the two ahead, wearing a pair of thin glass lenses tinted blue over her eyes, her long black hair in a tidy ponytail that sways with her steps.
Dexter subtly raises his head up in notice to the presence due to the footsteps, but after a quick glance he lowers his head back to resume his inspection with crossed arms to which the woman's eyebrow raises and she stops at the end of the hallway, leaning against the corner before greeting suspiciously, "Uhm, hello, Dexter?"
Whereas Jarp raises his head in intrigue to the call, Dexter's stare remains fixed on the screens for assessment, not moving it away as he simply mutters back, "I'll be right with you Rica." He then calls Jarp's attention back upon the critique, "The spacing for the antennas are off, marginally though we should maintain precision."
Adhering to the retrieval, Jarp's head lowers back to the screen, studying the model and sketches for a moment before nodding and noting, "I see it, I think I just repeated some of the spacings in the wrong spots. That shouldn't be too hard to fix."
Waiting with her back against the wall, the woman referred to as Rica raises her head to the ceiling with a hum before broaching, "It's pretty late for lunch and we have a meeting in about an hour, and it looks like it's going to be a longer one."
His head still angled down to keep his eyes on the screens, Dexter simply mumbles offhandedly, "Got it, I'll be right with you," to which Jarp raises his head back up to Rica, then turns it for a quick glimpse at Dexter before returning his gaze forward as to not get locked into awkward eye contact.
Reviewing the model with sharply focused eyes, Dexter does mention though in a brighter tone, "The ravine is perfect, nice work. You achieved the fine details, I was unsure if we'd need this to be run by Maychel but if you can touch up the few inaccuracies then I don't see us needing that."
To that praise Jarp smiles softly before nodding, choosing not to speak just yet since he understood that the assessment hasn't been complete, not wanting to jump to conclusions again and lose his positive moment.
"Okaaaay," responds Rica's voice with a somewhat childlike slur before appending in that similarly sly tone, "I heard there's Big Camillus at the Square today but I'm not sure when they're going to be back," immediately triggering Dexter's eyes to hone in, contracting as his whole body freezes. He doesn't raise his head, his bafflement remaining plastered on his face as he simply concludes in a stoic voice, "That should be all the major changes needed, Connect me once you fix and clean up and I'll take another look. This looks solid, good work," before his body stiffly turns and begins pacing back around the desk towards the corridor he came from.
Oblivious, Jarp raises his head to carry his sight towards Dexter before relaying, "I got it, I'll let you know. Thanks!"
"Of course," the taut voice of Dexter responds as Rica stares at him with a mischievous grin, one basking in victory, those prideful eyes hiding behind lenses that glare. Those majorly concealed eyes track the man who strolls past her, continuing down the corridor to which she spins playfully, swinging her ponytail, catching up beside him. From there the two walk side by side down the hallway as she places her hands together behind her back as Dexter keeps his by his side, both of them passing a few coworkers navigating across the hall as well, some of them waving to the two who wave back with quick exchanges of greetings immediately followed with departures. They trek through the passing clusters, vanishing in the passageway on their way through.
That corridor was on one of the higher stories of the building, for there were many more floors beneath it occupied with abundances of adults dressed in business attire, whether it be them walking along hallways as well, seated alone in compact office rooms at their own large desks with a screen, working within a boxed space though one without a ceiling to reveal a larger room full of these other cubicles in a grid, conversing amongst each other in meeting rooms with long tables for everyone to face the holographic screens in the center, and assisting their coworkers beside them in vast open office rooms with many desks most of them occupied by workers though some of them pace around the room to their own destinations. Tens of floors like these are constantly active, communities of colleagues collaborating, some of them biting into sandwiches or digging through salads at their desk to make quick glances at their screens, others in groups holding discussions in hallways while more squeeze past, for at every moment it seemed everyone had their own objectives, their own destinations.
This goes the same for the many employees in the huge lobby floor with a tall ceiling that has several gaps along the edges which elevation pads ascend through to carry occupants to those higher floors, or descend to bring others down to this very lobby where after the pad decelerates into landing they're able to step off and continue about their day. Among those plummeting pads are the two friends, the man's hands in his pockets casually while he nods to passing colleagues, the same as the woman beside him who waves before returning her hand behind her back. Despite her shorter stature, her strides are longer than the man's, placing her ahead of him at an increasing distance he's forced to close by quickening his own pace, following her to the end of the lobby where they walk through the dematerializing nanite cloud before being immediately blasted with the cyan light from above to which the woman smiles freely, spreading her arms out to relish in the natural warmth and the breeze accompanying it which ruffles her blazer. Also out of the building with silver exterior walls is the man who's similarly struck by the sunlight, instinctively shielding his eyes with one hand as he winces to contract the exposure flooding him. The smiling woman twirls around to grab that hand shielding the man's eyes, blinding him again as he shuts them, but furthermore he's dragged forward as she sprints off gripping his wrist. He flails his free hand with desperate demands to be freed, though it's as if his shouts are deafened by the winds as she pays no attention, racing down the street crowded with people not only adults in similar business suits but walks of all ages dressed diversely, many of them in casuals like hoodies or jackets. Some of them glance at the two running off in a manner like children despite both being in their mid forties, a time where people like them would if anything have children of their own.
Regardless, the man's head spins from the chaotic forced movement along with the desperate adjustment to sunlight, his eyes bouncing sights everywhere between the other folk around him, the other silver towers lined up beside the one he had just departed from, and the wide black metallic road beneath his feet.
That same black road is what leads them to the grand open plaza where that very road ends as do the rows of silver towers sandwiching it, for those towers instead wrap around that plaza, only the ones on the far other side better observable, the broad curves mixed with the smooth, solid silver bodies providing the impression that the skyscrapers may simply be colossal pieces of metal. While perhaps the exterior structure doesn't exhibit any unique features, that if anything allows for greater focus on the titanic billboard screens –some of which are taller than neighboring buildings– plastered on said exterior, lit up with animations featuring a great array of advertisements displaying SUV-styled pods, models with long luscious hair, Pouches, photographs of beautiful beaches, and many posters featuring actors in striking poses with dramatically bold text along the top and bottom. Silver blades of grass in the metropolitan field filled with other pedestrians, those on the left walk in the opposite direction but those on the right among the two friends stroll in the same direction for that plaza. Above the pedestrian streets is another, in the air in fact and far faster, composed not of travelers on foot but rather in pods that roar overhead similarly split into two lanes moving in opposite directions. They're far higher though, more than ten stories high, and similar to the skyscrapers their traffic current wraps around the plaza, only straightening again at the other side where the river bolts ahead. Similar streams of pods can be seen further in the distance, trickier due to the great stature of the high rises but they can be seen as angled beacons connected to the heavens, many of these across the field like trees, vanishing into the sparse clouds among the great cyan supersun at its peak height.
Similar to the wrapping traffic and buildings, there are other structures though within the open plaza itself which wraps around in a circular formation, however these have circular shapes too, global that is, tall as a story. Those closest to the two wear solid blue shells that compose that spherical shape, however the further orbs appear to reveal themselves not closed but rather have nearly half cut open to reveal a hollow space facing the center, that hollow space primarily green with white edges. That green space seems to be populated with bleachers due to the fact many distant people can be seen seated at them, the white edges being stairs given that they're chosen to be stepped up on.
Perhaps difficult to fully grasp from the outside, this court which has the radius of more than a city block is densely populated, not only at these globe bleachers but the open floor around it, much of the herds crowded specifically around pods that rest scattered around the center, lines of people waiting in front of its side. None of the pods are in the dead center however, for there is a structure there, from above there can be identified a platform in the shape of a crest where along the top side are five huge humanoid statues purely golden, magnitudes taller than those roaming around it.
In a plaza this expansive, it's nearly impossible to identify any of the individuals within it, a constant flux of those entering and exiting through the four streets that branch off. Even to observe the whole court it was difficult to make out the features of the five golden statues, the rim of the crest platform they stand on also used as seats as many sit along it, able to dangle their legs over as the pad indeed is elevated.
Down on the ground, shimmying through the dense mob at what felt like the peak of day for it was challenging to fathom a crowd greater than this, both Rica and Dexter pass one of the globe bleachers, maintaining proximity to one another as to not get lost, bounded still as Rica's hand remains on Dexter's wrist like a leash. Seemingly admitting defeat as he no longer struggles against the hold, he instead focuses on the environment around him, raising his head to watch over the crowd in examination for a specific goal.
His survey freezes with wide eyes upon a lock, for his sights align with a pod not too distant, that truck as well as all the other ones bearing resemblance to food trucks both in shape as well as the open booths on the side to allow communication between the person in the truck and the head of a line that stands in front of it. The truck has an awning over the booth with red and white stripes, a color scheme reflected in the rest of the vehicle's body mostly white with red trims. Beside the booth is a logo of what resembles an ancient roman soldier helmet with the solid faceplate but for a curved T-shaped visor, perhaps best identified by the red Crest however the crest is comically shaped not in its traditional fan-like profile but rather a distinctively triangular one, the curved long face bearing an orange edge. The shape resembles the very food on trays that the people who leave the front of the line walks with, slices of pizza sizzling hot, some of them simple only with cheese but many carrying diverse toppings like cut meats, vegetables, and other embellishments.
Buried in the crowd is the woman's small hand with the navy blue sleeve clutching onto the man's wrist above its gray sleeve, however in a swift motion the man's wrist rolls to grab the bottom of the woman's wrist, the hand of which naturally releases its hold out of instinctual surprise, allowing the man's wrist to roll over yet again in a swapping of positions within a second.
Only cognizant of the action a moment after its occurrence, Rica's eyes widen in astoundment before Dexter abruptly launches forward in a hasty jog, resulting in her being quickly dragged behind as it was now her wrist being held. Her mouth opens as if to protest, though it simply hangs speechless as she's taken towards the destination.
Pushing through the crowd, his lean though tall stature navigating others to disperse around him like a scissor cutting through cloth, Dexter leads Rica down the square, needing to pass the center away from the crest memorial where the five golden statues stand, most of them dressed in full suits whether it be a racing suit, militaristic armor with bulging gear, or a slimmer suit but one with defined boots. Each of the statues are in a similar pose with their arms on their hips heroically, same as the next one which happens to be the only one not in concealing armor but rather a dress with a skirt composed of many individual strips next to another who is also feminine in shape but covered completely in a slim suit like the man in the center.
Passing the whole memorial, the two friends eventually reach the back of the line at the food truck pod where they stop, the line at least not the worst as there's only five people ahead, which is solid granted the sheer volume though notably it seems most people have already obtained their food. Rica gently sighs with a smile as Dexter stands beside her with a sigh too albeit in relief, both of them exchanging glances before turning around to independently observe the square even though they have to peer over the many shoulders drowning them from those passing by.
All around the two there are many who pace somewhat aimlessly through the square, some of them on their own occupying themselves with screens projected before their hands, others in groups whether it be couples or larger sets that chat amongst each other, though they fight to raise their voices enough to be heard due to the sheer volume of conversations occurring simultaneously.
In front of the two and behind another pair who are making their order together at the head of the line, both wearing matching red scarfs, patiently waits three women all dressed in formal business suits, the one on the left relatively tall with a mature figure and elegant posture, her hands clasped by her waist, her silky indigo hair draping behind her simply clean white shirt and pitch black blazer, who glances over to the other before asking in a soft, almost delicate voice: "Do you know what you're each ordering? We shouldn't stall for long today."
On the opposite side of the group is the shortest woman who has boyishly short hair colored pink lemonade, her buttoned shirt pleated, who faces the one to raise the question before answering in a voice higher-pitched, naturally sunny: "Of course Ember, so anyways what are you ordering," though the question is spoken noticeably apprehensively, almost guiltily, not helped as she subconsciously pokes her pointer fingers together above her chest.
Immediately the woman with the indigo hair, Ember, callously exposes, "You didn't, make a choice Casey," to which that shorter woman, Casey, frowns before whining, "Okay fine," and following the task of gazing up at the booth. One done, Ember slides her sights to the one in between them, her height too as she's not nearly as tall as Ember though still towers over Casey; her garments are clean like Ember's simple style though her blazer has a brown tone complementing her similarly colored straight hair. Oddly she blankly stares straight forward as if in deep contemplation yet her stoic expression leaves little to interpret. Initially ignorant to such, Ember inquires gracefully, "What about you Alina?" At the same time the couple in front of them finishes their order, but waits at the front of the line as the one in the booth turns around and walks off to presumably complete it.
Furtherly strange is the fact that a response isn't received immediately, in fact nor is a reaction of any sort as the central woman, Alina, just silently stares forward with her lips sealed. Tilting her head to the lack of interaction, Ember attempts again though maintaining that gentle tone, "Alina? Have you decided?"
Despite the second attempt there is no response, for her body remains a statue, frozen somewhat unnervingly so. In fact even Casey takes notice after the awkward silences, facing her with a head tilt before trying innocently, "Hello? 50 to Alina?" Again failing to trigger a response, she takes a fresh approach by extending her arm up, waving her hand right in front of Alina while childishly pestering, "Hello? Alina? Alina? Are you watching something? I thought you said no Direct when we're outside. Hello? Should I Chat you or something?"
Her hand however is disrespectfully and yet contradictingly elegantly slapped away by Ember's before being swiftly returned to her side, and as Casey whimpers, "Ouchies!" she's immediately scolded in a voice still naturally deep though with a stern tone now: "Pick your order first," which even startles the two waiting behind them.
Rubbing the back of her hand using her other to nurture herself when nobody else would, Casey huffs before turning away with a pout to again face the booth with a rebelliously complacent: "Hmph fine." While there is nobody visible through the open booth window, there is a hovering screen that provides a list composed of two columns, the left one indicating the menu item and the right providing its price. While she begins earnestly scanning it, Ember returns her focus back to Alina and she begins to concern, "Alina, are you well-," before being interrupted finally with the cold murmur: "We present in an hour…and she's still not here…."
Despite the reprimand, Casey can't help but return her attention back to Alina in distressed intrigue as Ember frowns upon the instant comprehension of the vague reference. She gently sighs like a whisper, pondering for a moment before tending gently, "You need to eat Alina, I admit Casey's choice of a meal is questionable but you can't present while hungry," which Casey tries to argue with a basic, "Hey!" though she's instantly shut down with a quick glare like a gunshot.
Haste is soon required though as a man steps behind the booth in the pod, carrying a tray in each hand which holds two pizza slices that he extends out of the booth down to the couple waiting at the front of the line. Each of them takes a tray and thanks the man before taking a turn and strolling away casually, one of them softly blowing on the sizzling pizza slices to cool it down. Both Ember and Casey turn forward in dread to the fact that they have now become the head of the line despite being unprepared for the man who casually smiles at them, innocently waiting to take the next order.
Taking a deep breath in apparent anxiety, Ember does best to calm her outward appearance as she places her hands behind her back before taking a few steps forward right in front of the truck, the man facing her as Casey follows to align herself albeit the one in the center remains in place. Regardless, Ember first raises her eyes to meet the man's then to order, "I'll have a Salad Slice please, thank you," before bowing her head respectfully. Straightening her posture, she then turns her head towards the two friends beside her to cover, "For my-," before being interrupted by Casey who requests, "And can I get two Cheese-clear Slices," which silences Ember whose eyes glint in light surprise that an actual decision was made. She then turns her gaze to Alina, finding her still a few feet back, silent, as if paralyzed standing, completely desynced from the world. Ember winces from a mixture of concern as well as the social discomfort of this pause before suddenly Casey appends with a soft smile, "Oh and for my friend, two Forest Slices please," which dumbfounds Ember whose eyes widen and lips part, for it was perhaps baffling how genuinely considerate Casey was to not have only contemplated her own order but that for her friend as well, covering for her so seamlessly.
Nodding his head, the man behind the booth echoes in an accent heavily Western, "One Salad Slice, two Cheese-clear Slices, two Forest Slices, yeah?"
First is Ember who bows with the confirmation, "Yes," as Casey nods her head to add, "Yeah that sounds right." They both watch the man then turn around and walk off deeper into the truck to begin the order, leaving the three to wait in front.
Immediately after he had turned away, Ember exposes her discontented frown, turning again to Alina to open her mouth as though prepared to relay another concern, however upon catching glimpse of her friend's blank expression, a keener inspection reveals to her the subtle despair in her face, her eyes just slightly jumbling, her lips narrowly quivering, for it was clear that she was truly on the verge of a frantic breakdown even if well concealed.
Sighing upon this revelation, Ember then turns to Casey before gently appreciating, "Thank you Casey," in a voice entirely devoid of sarcasm or irritation. To that Casey just smiles back to her and nods with a casual, "Yeah of course." However she then adds on with some concern of her own, "You should've gotten a second slice though, they're not that heavy."
Smiling gently to the sincere worry, Ember lowers one hand and assures kindly albeit with a fine judgemental tint, "Don't worry, I don't typically eat this type of food," in a tone also earnest, though Casey oddly shows agony as she sways her gaze away with the huff: "What's that supposed to mean about me?"
While Casey huffs to herself with her gaze still diverted shamefully, Ember does straighten her neck with a subtle lowering of the head, her expression more contemplative as she gently mentions, "But she is right…I've been trying to chat her all morning and I haven't even received a status from her. She's not one to oversleep either…if she's not here now I'm not sure if she'll come at all. I was excited about the girls' night out too, we mapped out the full plan and everything. What are we supposed to do with the extra reservation slot..?"
Quickly Casey's exaggeratedly angsty expression dissolves with a turn of her head back to Ember, frowning somberly to find her other friend also distressed with the situation. Her gaze trails towards the ground in search of the right way to cheer her up, for when both of her friends showed gloom it seemed a challenge to maintain her goofy attitude.
Her attention is brought back up though upon the interjection ahead: "Misses, your orders," which also lifts Ember's head.
Indeed, leaning out of the truck booth is the man carrying two trays, one holding a single slice of pizza topped with various vegetables and spinach leaves similar to a salad whereas the other has two slices thick with botches of differently toned cheeses including the crust where strands of cheese seep out of. Ember's posture rapidly switches to gracefully raising her hand to grab onto the tray with the salad slice while softly obliging, "Thank you," as beside her Casey reaches for the tray with both hands with her own word of gratitude: "Thanks!" After both of them grab their trays and allow the man to relinquish his grip, he turns and grabs from out of view another tray with two slices also with a surplus of toppings somewhat chaotically, greens present like pieces of spinach as well as mushrooms and sporadic small chunks of meat. He offers the tray forward to the one in the group without one.
Despite the woman in the center facing forward in the direction of the tray, her expression is one of a soulless daze. One rapid glance to this continued disoriented behavior triggers Ember to instead offer her other hand to the tray, grabbing it off the man's hands with a second appreciation, "Thank you sir," before she turns to the left and splinters off the line, leading the other two with the one on the far side, Casey, gently placing her arm on Alina's back, finally prompting her to move with a minor forward stumble, blinking twice before shaking her head as she starts to walk autonomously. Her head swivels rapidly as if bewildered by her own surroundings before returning to Casey who smiles softly and guides, "Ember has your food, let's find a bench," to which Alina lowers her head with a frown. She soberly apologizes, "Sorry I-," but she's cut off by Casey's "Don't worry, let's sit down first so we're not dying on time."
They continue onwards, allowing the next in the line to the truck to step up, both of them raising their heads before the woman starts off with her order: "I'd like two Seaful Slices please," followed by the man promptly placing, "I'll get two Camillus Slices." The orders executed in seconds, the man in the booth nods his head before reciting, "Two Seaful Slices and two Camillus Slices, right?" which both of the pair nod to succinctly and synchronously. The man appends verbally, "That's right," before the one in the truck turns around and steps back into the pod, off to complete that next order. The woman turns to the man before mocking with a sneer, "Wait, you got the plain one? I thought you were excited for this," to which the man huffs with a stern rebuke, "It's not the plain one, it's their best one. It's their original, the others we can find in places like Scrabbles anyways." The woman places her hands on her hips and leans forward with the judgmentally perplexed, "Huuh? That makes no sense, they are completely different and the Camillus one is still like one of the most boring ones," though this argument fizzles into the rest of the general chatter amongst the square, harder to discern the further the three women stroll on their quest for seats.
Tallest between the three whilst at the lead, Ember scans the Square for open spots, her sharp yet calm eyes darting around the various spherical stands, leaning subtly to free her sights of civilians with greater statures than her. She holds the plates by the rim with a grip visibly gentle yet deceptively strong as there's no tilt to the plates nor sway, strange as behind her Casey grips her one plate with both hands yet her arms aren't as stable so there's constant tilting.
Whereas Ember pivots to thread between a group without any brushes against the plates, her keen eyes still on reconnaissance, Casey only notices a man walking straight for her when the plate nearly makes contact, only saved as Alina swiftly tugs her to the side, away from the man who doesn't notice and continues his conversation with a friend innocently.
At the same time as Casey sighs in relief while Alina comforts her with shoulder pats, Ember's head perks up as her eyes flash, and her wandering stroll shifts to an intentful rapid walk in a straight direction which Casey picks up on with an upward tilt of her own head. She follows hastily behind, accompanied by Alina who carries herself with slight acceleration, able to use her taller figure to bolster their combined presence, helping to repel distracted wanderers from more near collisions. While Casey tries to shout over the crowd, only her accent can even be vaguely registered, her words entirely lost to the reception of sea.
In one of the many globe stands scattered around the Square's rim which is nearly fully occupied with the only few open spots being perhaps just wide enough for a pair but not any greater, a group of four boys on the central level appears to be in the process of exiting, three of them standing as a fourth hurriedly munches through a long baguette sandwich, only a few bites left at least which he stuffs in his mouth repeatedly. One of the boys exclaims to him urgently, only returning frantic nods without words in response as the boy finishing up his meal wouldn't be able to export words through a mouth dealing with a lengthy import.
That boy then glances forward to find the adult woman with long indigo hair approaching with her gaze trailing to the four, recognizing their imminent departure, keeping a stable hold on both of the trays. She weaves through the crowd standing by the globe, which the impatient boy notices same as the one eating, who raises his pace with the final few bites before stuffing the final piece in his mouth, standing up and following the other three who walk down the bench to the stairs on the edges at the same time as Ember passes them, tilting her body once again to maintain protection of the trays.
After passing them up the stairs, she gracefully glides down the bench towards the open spot in gentle strides, passing a few others sitting down closer to the stairs, who fix their postures and cling their legs to the seats in order to add space in the aisle for her to walk along to which she nods with gratitude. As she reaches the open spot perfect for the three of them, both Alina and Casey reach the stands, following up the stairs and traversing through the aisle, some people needing to pull their legs back again after having promptly relaxed after Ember's passing.
Alina paces down the aisle with assertive, confident steps whereas behind her Casey stumbles more clumsily, calling for a concerned glance from Ember as Casey seems on the constant verge of tripping over. At least she does successfully reach the open spot without falling, given the closest seat as they fill the spots from left to right, letting Alina sit in the middle, both of them tracking Casey's eventual seating just to confirm a safe landing. She flashes a reassuring smile back though with a glint of nervousness to which Ember shoots back a judgemental glare which is taken with a frown, though Casey quickly subsides any silent reprimands as attention is shifted to her meal which brings a more genuine smile across her face.
She places the tray on her lap as an impromptu table to then pick up one of the slices, or rather tearing it off of the other one as they're stuck together by a yellow glue, or rather thick melted cheese nearly binding the set. In fact she needs to hold down the second slice with one hand as her other tugs the first, exerting effort just to rip the two apart, succeeding in such although some of the cheese was pulled off the second slice, revealing red sauce underneath.
She doesn't take note though, for her hunger takes precedent, lifting the separated slice up to her mouth, trying to catch it as the slice flops, requiring her to lean rapidly in different directions before finally opening her mouth to bite down on the tip of the pizza, ripping off a chunk with a gleeful face despite the somewhat messy method of consumption.
On the other side, Ember gently rests her tray of the one Salad Slice on her lap before extending the other tray to Alina beside her, who takes note of the offer though she frowns as though with uncertainty, glancing down before muttering, "I don't know…I-,"
However on the other side, initially seemingly distracted with her own meal with is technically still true as she's still chewing through her subsequent bites, Casey leans forward to implore albeit in a voice muffled from the food still in her opening mouth: "You need to eat Alina, we still have a long day ahead!"
Despite the disgusted grimace from being subjected to the immature act of speaking while chewing which forced an unpleasant display of the gooey cheese pit in her friend's mouth, Ember relieves her mind with a sigh, her expression a calmer, more elegant one as she additionally persuades, "As Casey put it, you'll be tired without food. You'll more than likely be required to take on the majority of the presentation given your role, so you need to nourish yourself."
She mutters with a quick glance down to the food, "However nourishing this is…," before returning back to Alina with a gentle smile in resumption of that nurturing tone: "But please, we should do one more rehearsal before the meeting too so we need to eat quickly."
Sighing in acknowledgement to the truthful statements despite the first being made partially caught by thick strings of melted cheese, Casey still gnawing through her first slice passively which progressively eases due to the lesser flopping, Alina nods her head with a sentimental: "I understand…and you're right. It's just…I mean…it wasn't just done by us three. I mean I guess in the end we had to stretch ourselves a bit more but still, we've been working up to this for so long and…she's just not here."
Freezing halfway through a bite, Casey's eyes divert to Alina, and while she does let herself tear off another piece of the slice albeit with little left other than the crust to then chew it with a mouth now shut, she does pause to softly empathize with a frown, "I mean I get it…I wish she was here too. She did join the team a little late and this was probably her first real big project but still she was with us through the whole thing. I remember when she had the eating problem and would keep pushing back her lunch break because she thought she was almost done with one thing and she would be almost done for like over an hour."
"Not only that," chimes in Ember which calls upon both of the other two women's attention, finding her not facing back at them but instead vaguely off in the distance forward, reflecting somberly: "She's our friend, I know this is just work and it's all professional, we're doing this for a payout and I'll admit I was going to ask if you could try getting me a raise after this, but I digress, it feels like it's more than that. I do want to slap her for the extra work I had to do to cover her ass- her duties, but still she deserved to be here today and get the appraisal for all the work done. Perhaps I'm reading too deeply into just another professional meeting, I just feel disappointed that we're doing it without her. I was looking forward to the celebration too, maybe most of all, it would've been so satisfying to loosen up together without any worries of deadlines. It would've been fun…but is it even right if she's not there?"
Both Casey and Ember wear their heads low in contemplation, both of them accepting to their own miseries, their pizza trays still on their laps though neither of them reach for it. With a frown of her own Alina glances from Casey to Ember, recognizing her own melancholic feelings manifested in both of her gloomy friends. She raises her head then to the sky to release a gentle exhale, pondering to herself, her gaze to the sparse clouds amongst the overall bright sunny day.
Dazing at the heavens above, Alina gently mentions: "Maybe…you're right, after today we won't have deadlines to worry over. We'll probably get a little break before our next heavy assignment too, there's plenty of time there to do activities together. The weekend is coming up too so we'll have more time and won't just be relegated to an evening, I mean if we really want to we don't even have to stick to the city," as both Ember and Casey slowly raise their heads almost in perplexion to the strangely optimistic remarks.
Her head still to the sky though with a subtly gentle smile, Alina continues to contemplate with a voice gradually more hopeful: "And this was a big project so this presentation would've been important, but it's not like this is our last. I mean I guess maybe I sort of wish it was our last because the work was painful but there's still so many more opportunities, so many more experiences we'll all have, release presentations she'll be with us in for one but also there's so much more we'll do. It might be a few months or year or years but we'll go through this cycle again, and when we do she'll be there at the end too."
She tilts her head to face Ember who faces back at her with a somber albeit slightly uplifted expression, helped by Alina's gleaming smile as she remarks oddly sadistically: "Maybe I'll try to motivate her more externally next time, I do get the reins."
On the other side Casey interjects with a sudden whine, "Alina's power tripping again!" which abruptly exerts a subtle giggle from Ember, quiet but present which she instinctively lowers her head to conceal, constricting her facial muscles as if to combat a natural smile.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," playfully assures Alina as she turns to face Casey before then leaning back, the seats having no back support thus she can recline as much as wanted, for the aisles aren't too narrow which allows for some comfortable space.
She faces forward again as her hands remain resting at her side, an optimistic glint in her eyes as she anticipates, "But this isn't the last one, far from it, and for you Ember I'll make sure to spam her through every ring of hell until she agrees on a time to active with all of us so at least we still get an afterparty even if it isn't with her today."
Suddenly Ember's cheeks redden even slightly before she raises her head and, less than subtly, frantically wavers: "Huh wait what do you mean 'for you,' it's for all of us, why me what?!" She then picks up the tray with the two diversely topped slices before shoving it in front of Alina's face while demanding like an impatient mother, "Now here, eat your food, here here or I'm going to have Casey feed it to you!"
Casey awkwardly giggles on the side, bizarrely brought in to sway attention away from Ember who keeps poking towards Alina with the tray until she finally breaks, taking the tray with her own hands and complying, "Fine fine I'm eating I'm eating." She places the tray on her own lap and picks up one of the slices, using one hand the same as Casey though she bends it slightly, enough that even upon lift there is still sufficient stability to prevent flop. While some of the toppings do touch due to the slight wrapping effect, they do still remain firmly on the slice, allowing her to raise it to her mouth and take a moderate bite from the tip to then munch on it with a respectful closed mouth. Beside her Casey finishes her first slice by chomping through the crust like a churro, exposing the thick melted cheese inside the hollow bread, which Alina glances at before facing Ember and warning, "You should start eating too or we'll be done with both of our slices before you're done with your one."
"Wait what-," stutters Ember with a face full of shock telling of her complete omission of her own food, lowering her head to remind herself that she too has a meal to replenish herself. "O-oh right right," she recalls before picking up that slice herself, though she uses both hands, delicately caressing the crust with her fingers to prop up the back with one hand as her other supports the front, maintaining perfect balance of the slice without needing to make a crease. She lifts it up gently before taking a small bite, the most modest therefore slowest, for Casey has already begun her second slice which she chews through while sarcastically threatening, "If you don't finish that before I'm done, I'm stealing yours," to which Ember fires back with a cold: "You're not used to the taste," warranting a brief: "Hey!" Stuck in the middle of the bumblers, Alina just smirks to herself while taking another bite as up the stairs walks a pair holding their own trays with pizza slices, the man in gray and the shorter woman in navy blue, both dressed in business attire like the three women.
They continue up more stairs as they scan the seats, most of them still heavily occupied until the man glances up to find a spot by the center of the topmost bench. He turns to the woman to briefly identify, "Up there," before continuing up the stairs in a speedy walk, leading the woman who does the same though exerts more energy in longer strides to keep up.