<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/c8/88/e5/c888e5269a9fd9ce9dd07279cbb1c294.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Ryder Monroe<br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>Parker lobby<br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Martina, Damon, Dmitri<br/><br/><strong>Content:</strong>tea and snark therapy<br/><br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>something like  http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/09/ce/8c/09ce8c448092a08a73e8368a5dc9ccf8.jpg (http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/09/ce/8c/09ce8c448092a08a73e8368a5dc9ccf8.jpg)<br/><br/><hr/><br/><br/>Ry tore her eyes away from Martina long enough to give a sidelong glance at Dmitri's hangdog appearance. "Dude.  You always look like that? If so, we got to be related, 'cause you look like I usually feel in the morning." Then what  Damon had said registers. "Sinfully Sw..." She laughed, loudly.  "Holy fuck, that's where Lizzy works.  She's not even outa bed yet, so I dunno who's makin' coffee over there. I am on a mission!" Striking a butch pose, she held her arm out, hand clenched as if holding a flagpole. "I gotta find her an Egg McMuffin or something before she passes out. Don't think Italian qualifies- out of my budget range right now, anyway."She grinned apologetically art Martina- and leered, just a tiny bit.<br/><br/>"But hey, bro," she went on, turning back to Damon. "If you're willin' to play guide for a few blocks, I'll tag along. I'll keep shouting people's names at ya, so you can remember who the hell we are."