Blue's Cantina

Victor was curled up with her notebook, sketching what she imagined a mermaid skeleton would look like, complete with labels. On that same page was information about a certain class of submarine, and fairly mild curses in Italian sans translation.

She took a sip of her coffee, and kept on recording things, pausing every so often to look up a new piece of information. There was so much to remember, so much to do!

But she would never turn away a bit of company.

Victor was clutching the sleeve of the taller boy, a Sam-I-am. Traces of dried green paint clung to her fingers, and her eyes were half-lidded and hazily curious.

Her other hand was wrapped around her PINpoint. Reed had given her a teleporting watch that was probably a gajillion times more efficient and less prone to spazz attacks, but Victor was an old-fashioned soul, and she had been PINpointing for well over a year. It was like giving a carpenter an electric sander, when all he ever used before was sandpaper.

"Y' feelin' better now?"