[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/6Y7MwqH.jpg[/img][hr][h1][color=0072bc]KIERAN O'CONNOR[/color][/h1][hr][color=0072bc][b][u]Location:[/u][/b][/color] Home → Bagel Place
[color=0072bc][b][u]Interacting With:[/u][/b][/color] [@HushedWhispers] → Phil (Text), [@Dusksong] → Nylah (Text + In Person), [@MissCapnCrunch] → CiCi (Text), [@Vlerchan] → Rui (Text), [@QueenoftheBee] → Olivia (Text)
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The first thing Kieran saw when he woke up was black. It was the preferred color of choice upon opening his eyes, but the second he moved his arm, the sunlight told him how much the ex-Canuck was going to pay for sleeping through his usual morning run on this day.

"[color=0072bc][i]Ugggggggh. Jesus wept... Really?[/i][/color]" The Bible verse quoted was as close as Kieran usually got to swearing, his parents having raised him better than to be talking gutter slang, but they also didn't raise him to avoid a late night challenge from a Ruskie who doubted his ability to play the game of Drink. At least he earned enough to cover the tab...and then some. Plus it was a proper training session for the day and night to come.

Stumbling out of the bed that dominated a good chunk of the back of his studio apartment, Kieran headed over to the coffee table to check his laptop. Video highlights had been posted of the west coast games, Oilers/Sharks ending up a duller affair than expected, and the Flames burning up Vancouver. A bunch of wasted space and potential pixels if he chose to write about it, save for another Pat Maroon goal. But it wouldn't read well in the city. The East Coast Bias held strong today.

"[color=0072bc][i]Guess I could rile up the Maroon vs. Lucic debate, but that's so knee-jerk...[/i][/color]" Looking down at the phone still charging next to the computer, he spotted the blue light blinking, letting him know his inbox had some booming business this morning. "[color=0072bc][i]Heh, should have known everyone would be active already today.[/i][/color]"

He read through in order. First, the birthday boy. There wasn't any chewing out on not getting the run in this morning. "[color=0072bc][i]Dodged a bullet, I guess.[/i][/color]" Phil's text on the group thread regarding theme for his big shindig was entirely expected considering what Kieran knew of his fellow aspiring journalist. Still, Kieran wondered how serious Phil would be on enforcing his rule on maintaining a proper theme. 

[center][b]To: The Whole Gang
[color=0072bc]So would the person who calls Sloth not have to wear any kind of getup to maintain the proper theme? Asking for a friend.[/color][/b][/center]

Right after that was another text, Phil again, making sure Rui was going to be at the party.

[center][b]To: Brodeo
[color=0072bc]No worries. He'll be there. Right enough.[/color][/b][/center]

The latest direct one was Nylah though, and that got Kieran's heart racing a little more to make up the lack of cardio. "[color=0072bc][i]Shoot![/i][/color]" 

Ever since he got that gig doctoring up scripts on that play, something he never thought about even attempting but still owed Shean a few beers for in appreciation for the reference, the actress had been firmly planted on his radar. Even after those first couple hangout sessions where they were feeling each other out, figuring out what they had in common aside from reporting to a dark theater for a bit of time, it was clear that something was growing. Now the regular hangout sessions; writing, rehearsing, even getting her to watch some hockey with him, Islanders only, it was one of the few things that actually made him thankful to Andrew Carroll for what he did.

Plus, he wasn't going to pass up a free breakfast. But he knew how quickly Nylah could blitz through the average bagel crowd. She had that home-ice advantage.

[center][b]To: Red Lightning
[color=0072bc]You know I'm in. If you order me my usual Canuck Cluster, I'll be there in 5, eternally grateful.[/color][/b][/center]

Now that he potentially had an egg white, swiss cheese and maple turkey sausage on sesame seed bagel waiting for him in the very near future, Kieran was awake and motoring through the apartment. He grabbed a pair of blue jeans from the floor, slipped on a hanging grey t-shirt and slid his feet into his running sandals, ready to head out the door. "[color=0072bc][i]I'll be fine in this...Yeah it's warming up to 45 today...Now keys are...here, wallet...still in there. All right then.[/i][/color]"

The five minutes he ran to the nearby bagel shop were almost effortless for the former hockey player. The problem was it used to be completely effortless. "[color=0072bc][i]That's what I get. Ah well, I'll be good tomorrow.[/i][/color]" 

Kieran straightened up his mess of long blonde hair as best he could and entered the shop. A quick glance from his vantage point revealed how impeccable his timing was as the redhead of Nylah Weiss was at the front of the line, placing an order. He confidently strolled up to his fellow creator of art and placed his hand on her shoulder. "[color=0072bc][i]I believe you requested some company, miss?[/i][/color]"