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[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

There's a pot of tea on Yuna's table, and a few cups; it would be very rude not have other cups available, if someone came over.

There's also a sphere; it looks something like a paperweight, a billiard-sized crystal ball of clear blue water, but faintly luminous.

Right now, if we can apply the word in Milliways, Yuna is praying, her lips moving silently in supplication and appeal to powers that she is not entirely certain can hear her from here. She does not look desperate, as if she's praying against hope for hope, but appearances can be decieving. On that front, although there's a small silver cross pendant from her rosary, it doesn't seem to be a part of whatever devotional tradition she's following, as her fingers slip over the beads of jet and cowrie shell.

She'll be finished shortly.

(Her appearance--as she has been since she entered the Thunder Plains, she's battered and muddy, and despite the iron grip she has on her expression and composure, nothing can hide the ragged edge of her weariness, at this point. If she slept badly in the constant storms before, then there are no words for how she sleeps since she found herself affianced to a murderer.)

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[gabriel_tam]

Before he calls the next press conference, Gabriel Tam needs to be absolutely certain of his own endurance.

And, seeing as there's only one place he knows of where he can make a judicious assessment of such things without alarming family, friends, and staff, he waits until Regan's gone to a committee meeting and then steps through the door into Milliways.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

Yuna's only just finished, neatly tucking the beads into her sleeve, when he enters; she raises a hand in greeting, backing it with a smile that's at least 60% genuine.

[gabriel_tam]

"Yuna -- nĭ hăo." He offers her a slight, formal bow and a crooked smile.

(All Gabriel's smiles are crooked, these days.)

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"Hello, Senator Tam," she says. "Would you like some tea?" She's poised to pour.

[gabriel_tam]

"I'd be delighted."

Moving slowly and with reasonable care -- but without evident difficulty -- he makes his way to her table.

He doesn't remark upon her appearance, but he certainly notes it.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

When she hands him the cup, there's a new piece of jewelry on her hand, if you're the type to notice that; a large and gaudy chunk of amber, set in a yellow ring. It doesn't exactly suit her, and there's a baleful flicker of light deep in the stone that wouldn't suit anyone, really.

There's also a faint smell of burnt hair when she leans closer.

"You seem to be moving more easily," she says, with a professional's eye. "And your scars are healing cleanly."

[gabriel_tam]

"You're very observant," he replies, with more than a touch of amusement. "Both are true."

There's a second's pause, then, tactfully,

"It's always nice to be able to get away here for a bit, isn't it? It allows one the time to rest, for one thing."

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"And to think," she agrees.

Her eyes flit to the sphere, and seem to be captured there for a moment. Then she breaks her gaze to take a sip of tea. "Have you been terribly busy, with your work? I hope you've been getting enough rest, yourself."

[gabriel_tam]

"I suppose this could be considered an enforced vacation, in a sense," Gabriel says, with dry humor even more evident.

"Plenty of rest and little work."

[the_antiangst]

Angel can't help noticing that she looks like she's been through the wringer. (Or possibly several. It's hard to say.) Being Angel, he can't help wondering about it, either, but one of the things his grandmother drilled into him is that you do not interrupt someone else's rosary.
Even if it doesn't seem to be the Catholic sort.
So, he waits until she's done and then says, "You all right?"

(OOC: I'm liable to need slowtime within the hour, but Angel wouldn't shut up.)

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," she says, slipping the beads up into her sleeve. "Would you like some tea?"

[the_antiangst]

"Sure, thanks." He doesn't entirely buy it, but he's not going to push the matter. Not with someone he's talking to for the first time.
"I'm Angel, by the way."

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

She cocks her head; Suzi Darley had told her a little bit about angels. "I'm very pleased to meet you," she says. "I'm Yuna."

[the_antiangst]

This Angel probably doesn't fit the physical description, for all he only says it's not a job description as a token protest, anymore. His friends will never be convinced otherwise.
"That's a pretty name. Where're you from?"

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

Angel does not dress particularly strangely, when you look at Spira.

"Besaid Island?" she says. "It's a tropical island. My world is called Spira."

[the_antiangst]

...This is true. In terms of angels-as-job-description, though.
"...Huh, haven't heard of it. But around here, that's not so unusual. I'm from New York - it's on Earth, in case you've missed the particular name."

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I've been there," she says, cheerfully enough. "I liked it."

[the_antiangst]

"Oh? Who'd you go with? It might not have been my New York - I'm pretty sure there's people around from a few different ones."
But either way, it's Angel's city.

[runmakitarun.livejournal.com]

Makita's immediate grin upon spotting Yuna collapses once she actually takes a moment to observe the girl. She almost doesn't approach, but after a moment to consider she simply walks over and sits down across the table silently.

She's not sure what's wrong, but for now she'll hope that simply being there will be some help.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

She pours Makita a cup of tea, and slides it silently over the table without looking up.

"Hi."

[runmakitarun.livejournal.com]

"Hey, Yuna," Makita says before taking a long sip of tea, willing to let things settle into a companionable silence if that's what her friend needs.

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

Silence is good.




Finally: "I don't, think, I'm going to be getting married after all." Her voice is toneless and quiet.

[runmakitarun.livejournal.com]

Makita looks up, eyes startled for just a moment. Then another sip of tea.



"Want to talk? Or is sitting better?"

[night-hibiscus.livejournal.com]

She reaches over to take Makita's hand. "Sitting's nice." She smiles, a dim flicker in a pale face.

[runmakitarun.livejournal.com]

A small smile from Yuna is enough to bring the same expression to Makita's face. "Sometimes it's the best."