take these broken wings and learn to fly

[ruinedu2.livejournal.com]

Who: "Fauxlivia" Dunham and you.
What: Coffee.
Where: Mog Hill, Queequeg's.
When: Veerdi (or any given) morning.
Warnings: None as of yet. Probably language?

Olivia would like to be one of those people waiting at the door when Queequeg's opens at 7, but in good conscience, she can't bring herself to add to the rush when she hasn't got any place to be in the mornings just yet. She waits a respectable hour before making her way from her room at Valhalla Inn to the sunken ship motif'd coffee shop.

It's become a bit of a game, ordering a coffee with the instruction surprise me. Sometimes this turns out to be a pleasant surprise, and those combinations she writes down for later reference. Sometimes she discovers that she should stick to what she knows. Today she's fortunately enjoying the results of flavour roulette, her hands wrapped around the hot beverage, a contented smile on her lips after a tentative sip. Out on deck, the warmth of it is appreciated.

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[ruinedu2.livejournal.com]

"I'm a fresh arrival," Liv admits easily. She seems to be at peace with her new locale, save for the slightly forced quality to her smile. "How about you?"

[aviophobia]

He waggles a hand in a 'so-so' gesture. "I'd been here for about three months before I got zapped back home for a month, and I've been back for a week or so. So ... three months ... ish?"