They say you can catch it, but sometimes you're born with it
Luke Roberts is pacing in the lobby of the Kashtta Tower. He has to respond to Arlin, but he doesn't know what to say to him yet. Luke believes him. Arlin seems sincere, and Luke really wants to get out. He doesn't want to have to be a bother to Torchwood or to put any of these people into danger. A hail of bullets and lion is what Gene said...
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"I had to shower, and then take care of some business." Yes, vague that up, Robin, as much as possible. "I'm not leaving the hotel, again, any time soon." Not until he needs more, at least, which won't be for a while.
"How are you feeling?"
Vague it up, and then change the topic of discussion. It's a winning game plan.
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Now that the medication has helped him to be more detached, he can think about how things have changed for him, and how strange it is that they have changed. Not so long ago a hug from anyone would make him freeze up on command as though he were going to get hit. This particular hug actually makes him feel better as much as he feels anything at all.
"Are you able to sleep alright?" He glances at her face, and then looks at the opposite wall. "That's... good about Dusty. She's good for you." He thinks Dusty would probably be good for a lot of people, but Ruvin is the only one that matters right now.
What had the Vesmier said? Companionship. Company. Something or other. The point is that Robin's done a rotten job of that lately. It's good that someone is stepping up to the plate. As strange as it is for him to think of either of them being in any sort of relationship, it's good that they have each other.
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"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry, I just-- I'm sorry, he's just such a handsome boy, isn't he? He is!"
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"Oh, no, don't be sorry! I sort of needed the break. I mean, I guess I could have tugged on him harder. I've got to be stronger than him, but it's like he's a horse or something, y'know, and I feel like if I tug too hard, I might accidentally break something, right? I saw an add for dog-walker needed and thought ka-ching! But then he ended up being a beast," Elizabeth exclaims in exasperation, and then smiles fondly at the back of his head. "His name is Spot."
She actually looks up at the stranger on her knees in a suit, and then the grin widens as she realizes what sort of stranger she's conversing with. "Oh! Hi! Another angel! Nice to meet you in the park with my neighbor's dog!"
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"Ladeedoo, indeed!" Elizabeth smiles brightly. She is completely serious in her repetition of that made up phrase-a-ma-thing. "Who is Gail Chandler, and why does she need an assistant?"
The dog's tail goes on a rampage of excitement. No one is paying attention to Spot! Woe! Woe! It must be changed.
"Hold up there, Beastie." She leans over to pet his back. "Oh! Yes! You need my name for us to actually be introduced, huh? That would be helpful! Hi! Elizabeth Jules! I'm an angel of death so if you're ever in need of such services or know of someone who might be, look me up!"
Because that's totally what people will do, Elizabeth.
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"May I?" she asks, motioning to the empty chair across from her.
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"There's always room at my table for you," she says, and then nods toward the empty seat. "Please, join me. We can get caffeinated together."
She never sticks in brooding mode for long. It's a rather useless mode to be in as it is.
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Rachel's mostly subsisted on coffee alone. These days she isn't bogged down by work but she still finds she needs her daily dose of caffeine.
She then leans forward on propped elbows, face still sympathetic. "You look like you have a lot on your mind. Are you sure I'm not interrupting?"
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"I've almost always got a lot on my mind. Besides, it's not healthy to brood. I would much rather be talking to you," she insists, and then sips her cappuccino carefully as it's still hot.
She sets her drink down, again, as her expression turns a bit more serious. "We've got things to discuss anyway, haven't we?"
She's been rather anxious to hear what Rachel has to say about Crane, and then the whole matter of a legal system has especially been weighing on her heart lately though she can't place why. It might be out of a need to do something to improve this place.
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And the minute she sees him she wants to step back. After each of their encounters he's gone for days on end and now Rachel isn't sure how to greet him.
Sorry, Robin. Have more awkward.
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He does not see her at first. Robin isn't paying attention to his surroundings, which is nothing new. It has slowly occurred to him that he should look for the puppy to see if she is alright, but he'd left her out of the room before he left. Puppies have a way of being taken care of by anyone with a heart.
Robin stands up from the chair. He has the energy and capability for it at this point, and then he sees Rachel Dawes standing there, and he almost loses his footing.
"...hi, Rachel."
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She stands there for a moment regarding him because really, she never seems to know what to expect anymore when it comes to Robin Rice.
"...hi." She bites her lip, taking in his clothing and countenance. "Long day?"
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He grimaces when she looks at his dirty suit. He must look a fright. "You... could say that." More like a long week.
Robin is starting to wish that he had changed into clean clothing before he came out, but he'd felt that coffee would be necessary. Why in the name of what little is good in the world does he not have a coffee machine in his room?
He'll have to make a note of that for the future. "I was actually going to make coffee. If you'd... like a cup. Make coffee, and then change. I promise I don't treat all my suits like this. That would be rather wretched of me."
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She opts to give him only the latter aside from a few dollar bills. It's a yellow daisy from a bouquet she's carrying. "Hiya, cutie. You got some pipes on you."
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He could give them to Jo! She might like a flower!
Jamal's look of contemplation turns into a grin as she takes it and the dollar bills from her.
"Thank you. I'm professional!" He bows, and then looks at her with a perplexed expression, again. "...cutie?"
He has heard that word before, but he hasn't figured out what it means yet.
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Phoebe doesn't really have reasons for giving random people flowers, except that it's the only thing she's really good at and the world is lonely and achy and it often forgets the lost ones.
She thinks somehow receiving something pretty for no reason at all makes a world that could forget a little less cruel than it really is.
It makes sense in her head, see.
"You call someone a cutie when they're absolutely, positively adorable."
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He has only recently discovered much of the English language. Phoebe's slang is throwing him for a loop.
Jamal can't decide if he understands the word adorable much either, but it seems to be a good thing. He grins at her, and then bows, again.
"Thank you! I will be all the adorable for you! I can dance, too, for your enjoyment! I am professional." And then Jamal wiggles his hips and spins.
He grabs her hand and waves it to the beat of whatever song is in his head. "Do you dance?"
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