"The green lead pipe," says Monet. She ignores Tate's smile in favor of scanning her surroundings. A glance toward the offered food is, yes, very much disinterested.
She shrugs, bringing her free hand down to rest on the tabletop. Nails tap against the surface idly, and Monet turns her face toward Tate again to murmur, "Not quite. I'm supposed to be killing Glenn, actually."
She'll get to that eventually. It's only a matter of time.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Monet & Tate
Date: 2019-04-28 04:32 pm (UTC)She shrugs, bringing her free hand down to rest on the tabletop. Nails tap against the surface idly, and Monet turns her face toward Tate again to murmur, "Not quite. I'm supposed to be killing Glenn, actually."
She'll get to that eventually. It's only a matter of time.