<strong>Emily Fitzgerald</strong><br/><strong>Location</strong>: The apartment, living room<br/><strong>Tag</strong>: John ((reposting in main thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=186203.msg9098331#msg9098331)))<br/><hr/>Other than the soft squeak of the faucet, Emily is oddly silent from the next rooms-- she walks through the living room, a glass of water in her hand, taking a long drink and, otherwise, not showing any sign of what just transpired.  She flashes John a quick smile, seeming perhaps in a better mood but, otherwise, unfazed (except that, sauntering around the house in her bra and jeans, she doesn't seem in a particular hurry to finish dressing as she would with others-- or even John, prior to this morning-- in the house.<br/><br/>She sets the glass down on the fireplace mantle, stretches to pull a simple black shirt over her head and stretches it down to her waist before crouching to the floor for her shoes.  Finally, she breaks the silence, her voice loud enough to fill the room, echoing off their kitchy decor-- the brass-plated fish Emily had snagged at the "thieves' market", the wrought-iron fireplace tools that no one ever seemed to use, the gaudy Chinese vase that, by some miracle, no one (not even Mori) had destroyed just yet.<br/><br/>"They're onto something out there," she intones clearly, the velcro straps of her blue Teva sandals scritching softly apart for adjustment. She seems more fastidious than normal, absent of her distracted self-consciousness, forgoing her distant study of everyone around her. "Renault, Maria, Sully.  I don't know if we should join them, maybe, or..."  pausing to let the question linger, she shrugs her shoulders-- a gesture lost on him, as he's out of the room, but somehow audible in her hesitation, "... or maybe we should go somewhere else. While Renault is... you know... distracted?"