It's the first swear-in Luther's attended since November, and that hadn't even been proper attendance: it had been an impromptu celebration, cobbled together on-the-fly when all the imPorts were set loose out of the Jeopardy reality storm, and he'd gotten swept up in it. He doesn't particularly like the crowds at swear-ins; tends to only attend them for his family, or to be on-call in case something goes horrifically awry.
Nowadays, though, it's probably a good excuse to get out of the house. Stop moping around in an empty mansion. Be around other people, no matter how strange it still feels. And one thing remains a constant: he stays close to Allison, never letting her out of his sight, half of his attention always craned to track her through the crowd even when she's pausing for selfies and photo ops for her modeling agency. Luther's always careful to stay out-of-frame (he'd be a horrifically awkward photobomb in the background of every shot otherwise, looming visible above the crowd and looking startled every time).
When he samples AtlanTech's wares and puts on the AR goggles, he's impressed and a little wistful. Reginald would've loved to get his hands on one of these, disassemble them, find out how the tech works.
When he accidentally comes across the adult entertainment, he blushes beet-red and aLmost yanks off the glasses, but instead just walks, very carefully and silently, away from that exhibit.
When he stumbles into the icebreaker programming, a random question materialises tagged to his account:
What board game do you like the most?
Luther pauses to read it, and snorts a laugh. And a message pings its way to Allison through the mental network:
'What board game do you like the most'.
Do we even have a favorite? Half an hour a week wasn't long enough to finish any of the games, so we never actually saw them through to the end.
3/13: swear-in.
It's the first swear-in Luther's attended since November, and that hadn't even been proper attendance: it had been an impromptu celebration, cobbled together on-the-fly when all the imPorts were set loose out of the Jeopardy reality storm, and he'd gotten swept up in it. He doesn't particularly like the crowds at swear-ins; tends to only attend them for his family, or to be on-call in case something goes horrifically awry.
Nowadays, though, it's probably a good excuse to get out of the house. Stop moping around in an empty mansion. Be around other people, no matter how strange it still feels. And one thing remains a constant: he stays close to Allison, never letting her out of his sight, half of his attention always craned to track her through the crowd even when she's pausing for selfies and photo ops for her modeling agency. Luther's always careful to stay out-of-frame (he'd be a horrifically awkward photobomb in the background of every shot otherwise, looming visible above the crowd and looking startled every time).
When he samples AtlanTech's wares and puts on the AR goggles, he's impressed and a little wistful. Reginald would've loved to get his hands on one of these, disassemble them, find out how the tech works.
When he accidentally comes across the adult entertainment, he blushes beet-red and aLmost yanks off the glasses, but instead just walks, very carefully and silently, away from that exhibit.
When he stumbles into the icebreaker programming, a random question materialises tagged to his account:
Luther pauses to read it, and snorts a laugh. And a message pings its way to Allison through the mental network: