<div class="floatright"><div align="center">(https://cdn1.iconfinder.com/data/icons/user-interface-colorful/48/user-512.png)<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Real Appearance</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/70/f3/3a/70f33a8233ff6c95064cad6dc7dd52ad.jpg)</div></div></div></div><strong>Name:</strong>Bryanne Delaney<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>designer jeans, black spaghetti-strap tank, sandals<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Room, then pod<br/><strong>Date/Time of Day:</strong>June 1, 20201, mid-afternoon<br/><strong>Content/Trigger Warning:</strong>NA<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Danny<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Bryanne nearly did a spit-take when a voice answered her from the other side of the screen.  Shouldn't have surprised her- that was the point of the pods after all. It did show how, once again, she wasn't entirely in tune with what was going on around her. Too internalized, as usual.<br/><br/>"Bryanne," she muttered, fishing about for a napkin to mop up beer drool, then repeated it more loudly. "Bryanne. Just Bry is fine. Yeah, I know it sounds like a guy's name. My family's weird." There. That was out of the way, at least. Looking around, she decided to settle in the couch that faced the screen. Not that she could swear that was the direction the dude's voice had come from- with good sound tech, he could've been in India, for all she could tell.<br/><br/>"So. This is weird, right?  Doing The Chat Thing without seeing each other?" Another suck on the malt teat fortified her a bit. "So, Danny. How'd you get talked into this?"  The 'official' questions could wait. Too much like a punch list- cross check for takeoff! Not a good way to set up a date.<br/>