“No slacking!”

Jill shouts at the group of running rookies, having them do laps around the gym until they practically collapsed. A punishment for goofing off on duty.

She sighs, running a hand down her face wearily before her attention shifts to the entryway.

She’s smiling as you trot up to her with a paper bag and a cup of coffee in your hands; wearing that cute little BSAA vest that gives you access to everything. Mostly, at least.

“Good job. Get my order right?”