[ A vaguely familiar voice threatens to interrupt her from her task; briefly, Aranea's eyes flick up over the teenager's frizzy head of hair = oh. A split second of eye contact, recognition that barely changes her expression. Him. Well, he isn't worth disrupting her brief five minutes of legitimate work over eight hours of tedium. She'll deal with him in a minute. ]
I'm telling you, I'm eighteen! I just have a - youthful complexion.
ID says your birthday is in 2496. You're fifteen, and -
Okay, okay! Keep it down. I just - I don't want all my friends to think I'm some... loser cradlebaby.
[ ... Cradlebaby? You know what, whatever. ]
We don't have an age restriction, so you can stay. [ There's a slight roughness to Aranea's tone in the beginning, like she has to wrestle with her temper after being interrupted. She continues - ] Get sprite and tonic, drink it slowly, your "friends" won't know the difference.
[ The younger girl, not especially happy but (thankfully) not wanting to throw a tantrum, rolls her eyes but concedes. Aranea shrugs at the attending bartender and then turns to her next problem. In the small distance around the bar, she's walking of her own power, but slowly. The velcro brace is barely visible in the low light. Reaching past him to tug her nachos close, she addresses Sergei, or whomever. ]
Surprised you even have time for someplace as low key as this. Thought you were a hardworking businessman now.
[ Behind the bar, the woman serving catches Aranea's eye, but she shakes her head in reply. Babysitting isn't the worst way to finish out a shift. At least she won't be bored. ]
no subject
I'm telling you, I'm eighteen! I just have a - youthful complexion.
ID says your birthday is in 2496. You're fifteen, and -
Okay, okay! Keep it down. I just - I don't want all my friends to think I'm some... loser cradlebaby.
[ ... Cradlebaby? You know what, whatever. ]
We don't have an age restriction, so you can stay. [ There's a slight roughness to Aranea's tone in the beginning, like she has to wrestle with her temper after being interrupted. She continues - ] Get sprite and tonic, drink it slowly, your "friends" won't know the difference.
[ The younger girl, not especially happy but (thankfully) not wanting to throw a tantrum, rolls her eyes but concedes. Aranea shrugs at the attending bartender and then turns to her next problem. In the small distance around the bar, she's walking of her own power, but slowly. The velcro brace is barely visible in the low light. Reaching past him to tug her nachos close, she addresses Sergei, or whomever. ]
Surprised you even have time for someplace as low key as this. Thought you were a hardworking businessman now.
[ Behind the bar, the woman serving catches Aranea's eye, but she shakes her head in reply. Babysitting isn't the worst way to finish out a shift. At least she won't be bored. ]
We're not gonna have a problem, right?