Heavens, no. The darts are alright. Problem with the billiard balls is that they're made of bloody holograms.

[ she mirrors his movement -- curling her fingers around her tumbler before sliding easily off the bar-stool. chivalry ought to be dead, but peggy allows him his courtesy. for now, she even manages to suppress a roll of her eyes. if only because she can stomach teasing much better than she can condescension, and this doesn't feel like the latter. ]

Loser buys the next round. [ dressed more for the office than for space, she strides her way down the bar. ] Sound alright?