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Private to Steph:
You wanna give me the 411 on Babs, BG? 'Cause I thought you were the one with the bat suit.
[Barbara's folder is in her lap; a little crinkled, and hastily smoothed over from the half a dozen reading's she's managed so far. But she looks determined right now.]
[Faith's just sort of... staring at her lap, here; fidgeting a little; there's hand scrawled notes all over the place, quizzes she made up for herself - mostly hidden, but peeking out between papers. There's a look of almost panic on her face - and she can't quite get out the request for help.
Just... give her a moment, would ya?]
Private to Barbara:
[The folder's stashed behind her somewhere - no clue as to how much or little attention she's been paying; there's a casual look to her, as if she's not going crazy.]
You up for drinks, Babs?
[She's phrasing this like a request; but she will be down there knocking your door open in no time if you say no.]
Public:
[The file's back in her lap again; she's only spent the last ten minutes making sure it's presentable - fidgeting and going back and forth. She's used to being the impulsive sort - but now she's in charge of someone, and that's... that's scary.
Still, she puts on a smile, and tries to laugh.]
Guess the Admiral got tired of my free ride, huh?
You wanna give me the 411 on Babs, BG? 'Cause I thought you were the one with the bat suit.
[Barbara's folder is in her lap; a little crinkled, and hastily smoothed over from the half a dozen reading's she's managed so far. But she looks determined right now.]
Private to Buffy:
[Faith's just sort of... staring at her lap, here; fidgeting a little; there's hand scrawled notes all over the place, quizzes she made up for herself - mostly hidden, but peeking out between papers. There's a look of almost panic on her face - and she can't quite get out the request for help.
Just... give her a moment, would ya?]
Private to Barbara:
[The folder's stashed behind her somewhere - no clue as to how much or little attention she's been paying; there's a casual look to her, as if she's not going crazy.]
You up for drinks, Babs?
[She's phrasing this like a request; but she will be down there knocking your door open in no time if you say no.]
Public:
[The file's back in her lap again; she's only spent the last ten minutes making sure it's presentable - fidgeting and going back and forth. She's used to being the impulsive sort - but now she's in charge of someone, and that's... that's scary.
Still, she puts on a smile, and tries to laugh.]
Guess the Admiral got tired of my free ride, huh?
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-19 11:11 am (UTC)From:Staffs? I can do that.
[She wouldn't generally be so open with her prowess, but there's little point in hiding anything. Faith has her file.
Her hand tightens on the staff, just slightly.]
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-19 11:14 am (UTC)From:Figured I should go easy.
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-19 11:23 am (UTC)From:I wouldn't.
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-19 11:30 am (UTC)From:[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-19 11:39 am (UTC)From:[She twists on her heel and thrusts down with her staff, only just catching Faith's - that surprises her.]
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-19 11:46 am (UTC)From:Not to me.
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-22 02:32 am (UTC)From:File wasn't enough, huh?
[It's a clumsy dig for information, far from her best, but - well, she's not exactly on form. It hasn't been the best week.]
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-22 02:35 am (UTC)From:Beat me.
[Never hurts giving the girl something to fight for; unless of course Barbara hits her.]
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-23 11:25 pm (UTC)From:I've beaten worse.
[She doesn't know if she has, actually - not really. Hopefully Faith will tell her.]
[Spam]
Date: 2012-07-24 12:08 pm (UTC)From:Which is why her staff flashes out towards the woman's side.]