Terminus was alive with Anniversary Week celebrations and August found it a tad annoying. He understood the need for celebration, the need for station-wide morale to be boosted just as a matter of course, given that thousands of people were living out in space surrounded by vacuum instead of sky and dirt, but it did make for crowded streets and walkways and cafes. That morning, he, in a horrible lack of planning, had run out of coffee after his first cup so, with a sigh, he donned his uniform, buttoning it up to his neck, and left his small apartment in the quietest part of the Gasworks to remedy the situation. He went to a small shop first, one that sold teas and coffee of every variety, and choose his favourite brand, middle of the road but strong and bitter, and stashed it in a reusable tote bag he'd brought with him, before deciding to head down the street a bit to Felicette. Since was already dressed for public, he might as well take advantage of the time outside his apartment, after all.
It was busy, but he ordered a large coffee and, after a moment's worth of consideration, a muffin that might have actual real cranberries in it, and then surveyed his seating options. He had bulletins to read from ADF Command, system-wide updates that were sent to all commanders and captains at his level, and he was expected to read them all, at least to skim, so he was aware of the vast array of moving parts that came with protecting the system and ensuring that the GLF stayed quiet. Enabling the privacy mode of his tablet to ensure that the screen would look blank to anyone looking over his shoulder, he settled in on the corner of a very comfortable couch, eating his muffin in little bites when he remembered it was there. After about ten minutes, he had to shift just a bit to compensate for a very large orange cat that jumped up onto his lap and he idly scratched her behind the ears as he read.
Good thing he had worn his least favourite uniform, the one that was just a shade or two lighter than the newer ones due to multiple washes, because orange cat hair on navy blue was not a good look. August didn't mind, though, because her low, rumbling purrs were soothing, her weight was comforting, and he continued to read while taking sips of his coffee until someone came into his line of vision and he glanced up to see Lieutenant Hygrace in quite horrible pajama bottoms, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt. "Elizabeth." He greeted, using her first name because neither of them were on duty; just because he was too stuffy to allow himself to be seen in public in civilian clothes didn't mean they had to interact like they were on the bridge. "I'd get up to greet you but I think that would be classified as a crime." He explained, gesturing to the cat on his lap.