Umbrella Surveillance System
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Owner Pose
Emma It's a ovely day in France. For this time of year and everything! It's late afternoon, life is going on as normal.

Except for Emma. Life has been far beyond normal. And yes, it has left her off, and distant. Her sleeping pattern has changed too. So as it is, it looks like she woke not long ago. Hair is up in a messy bun with a penicl in it, and she is wearing pajamas. One way she works to ease her mind is through baking. Which is what is happening now. One could smell the baked goods cooking through the chateau.
Chase Dalton A few minutes later, Chase shows up. He pulls into the Chateau grounds on his bike, ascends the stairs, knocks at the door, and heads in once allowed inside. "Hiya, Em. How goes?" He begins a series of light stretches.
Emma Emma is covered in some flour, given that she is baking. Her feet are bare, and there is a hint of tiredness to her eyes. When Chase shows up, he is given a small smile, watching a second as he stretches. "I - well, am bakin'." This is one method of clearing her mind. And no, she doesn't answer on how she is, most have figured it out. "How - how 'bout yerself?"
Chase Dalton "I'm doing alright. So, what's on the menu?" Chase grabs a seat nearby, and settles in to watch. "Smells good, whatever it is." He slips his FBC-issue M9 Pistol from its holster, along with a cleaning kit, and begins going about cleaning his sidearm.
Emma There is another thing on the menu, the next set of baking is muffins. They look more decadent with chocolate layers and everything. While brushing hair from her face a smear of flour happens across her forehead. Looking to the oven then to him as he cleans his gun there is a small smile. "My - my great grandma' chocolate chip cookies. Hard nat ta eat them all." Then she pauses looking down to the mix she is stirring as if wanting to say something.
Chase Dalton Chase shivers. "Oh boy, bringing out the big guns, trying to impress me, eh?" He grins, and sets his weapon off to one side. "They smell absolutely divine. I'd almost feel bad eating them, y'know? I mean, if they taste /half/ as good as they smell, they'll be phenomenal." He hooks one his right leg over his left as he sits, reaching for his gun and resuming cleaning it.