[hr][hr][center][h1][color=f06262]Robin Marshall[/color][/h1][img]https://i.imgur.com/nwvYKd0.gif[/img]

[i]Location: The Café
Interacting With: Finley Alestair, Olivia Johnson[/I][/center]
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Knowing full well it was annoying order to make, Robin asked for something different that he used to get when he was in the city: [color=f06262]"A soy latte, please."[/color] He busied himself by picking out a few of the sugar packets in advance, as well as one of the little birchwood stirring rods that he had a bad habit of playing with until they broke. The girl Findley (no, there wasn't a 'd' in that name, was there?) finished serving the waiting customers, including himself, with admirable speed. Though he supposed that was the side-effect of nearing the end of her shift, as he found out shortly after.

When he received his coffee, thanking both the barista and then Olivia – [color=f06262]"Johnson, you're a star. If you ever lose your keys, just let me know."[/color] – before deposited all the loose change that was in his pocket, which wasn't much, into the tip-jar.

Now to begin the laborious process of stirring in all that sugar. He leaned on the edge of a nearby free table to do so, and – partially as small-talk, partially a release of his own inner thoughts – mused aloud, [color=f06262]"You know, say what you want about the murders and all, but isn't Red Lake a lot busier than it used to be?"[/color] Robin regretted it the moment he opened his mouth. Perhaps not the best topic of conversation.