Office Hours, Tuesday

[on_her_korhal]

Kerrigan had moved on from agonizing over her syllabus to banging her head against it quietly.

It was not a good day.

[ open, but with a lot of bouts of SP due to omgwtfmountain of schoolwork ]

Comments

[on-her-korhal.livejournal.com]

"So it seems, Carson," she said, putting the sheet down and trying her best not to look in any way ruffled. "Hand it over and I'll have a look."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Okay, uh. Great. Um. Here!" Bridge slides the report on to her desk. It details the coded messages they'd been sent leading up to the event, as well as the break and enter itself. There's not really much about what was found, aside from a vague mention of genetic customization. That part wasn't really relevant to the execution of the operation itself, Bridge figures.

[on-her-korhal.livejournal.com]

With the end of a pencil against her temple, Kerrigan read the report. And made some notes. And looked frowny. Then made some more notes, flipped to the next page, underlined the 'genetic customization' part with a deeper, more serious frown, repeated the process, and finally slapped the report face-down on her desk.

She studied Bridge for a moment. "No further assignment," she said, then leaned back. "If your friend's report corroborates this, maybe extra credit. Maybe not."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Bridge watches her a bit anxiously as Kerrigan reads it through. And then breathes a sigh of relief at 'no further assignment'. He can't help but look hopeful at the mention of possible extra credit, too. Dork.

"All right, um. Thank you!"

[on-her-korhal.livejournal.com]

She made a mental note to keep an eye on Carson.

She was racking up a lot of mental notes about the kids in her class this term. "I'll keep this," Kerrigan said, "Dismissed. I'll see you in class."