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[oneiropompuppet.livejournal.com]

“Well.”

Penelope stares about the Sensorium. She had been thinking about home as she looked about the room – and her most favourite memories of home happened in her office. Which is now here.

It’s a small room, with bland silver-and-sandstone striped wallpaper and the pea-green carpet that’s threadbare by the door. There’s an off-white couch on one wall, and across it a computer desk with an ergonomically-correct computer chair, also in off-white. A window at shoulder height shows a glimpse of pale blue sky and the hint of a brown stone building. Occasionally people, bundled in hats, scarves and coats, walk past.

Of course she’d think of Winnipeg in winter. It’s an interesting look at the human brain’s use of stereotypes.

As she steps out of the Sensorium, she’s smiling – it’s small, but it’s there.

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[twelvevoltman.livejournal.com]

She almost walks into a person as she steps out, a tall man who is reading a handheld screen as he walks. Allen deftly spins to his left to avoid stepping into her, only looking up from his screen when he's reached the end of the paragraph.

"Oh, hey." He smiles pleasantly. Red hair. Nice. "Sorry about the near miss."

[oneiropompuppet.livejournal.com]

Good thing he's deft, because she's not so much.

"Hello," she greets, still with a small smile on her face. Her gaze falls on the handheld screen. "What are you reading?"

Penny has trained herself to remember that interactions are important. But the lure of 'book type thing' is too strong to resist!

[twelvevoltman.livejournal.com]

"Alien physics." Allen holds out the "I don't know if you're a hard sciences type, but the Media lab is like a gold mine - just this morning, I found a Coluan textbook explaining why a cosmological constant hasn't been created by the zero-point energy of the vacuum of space. Great mystery of Earth physics, solved before I even had my morning bagel."

Smile and nod, Penny, he looks proud of himself.

"I'm Allen, by the way."