In which terrible things happen

[desilusionante]

[In the interests of the timestream being not at all consistent in this journal, this must clearly have happened before the last post. And yet not after it at all. Because fuck the Loom, that's why

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[fittichundgrin]

[Oh dear. This could go poorly. Taking the seat of some man who had given up, clearly, on winning and walked off.]

Now, Yue. What, pray tell, are you doing?

[desilusionante]

...Making friends? [To her credit, she manages not to look entirely like some kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar (which, by the way, is to her left instead of in the kitchen).]

[fittichundgrin]

I see. Well, I suppose that there is no harm in making friends.

[Sitting down. Maybe he can keep her from getting murdered.]

Deal me in.

[desilusionante]

Yessir. [Well, it helps that she's not really smug about winning, just having fun. Probably. A little.

But dealing him yes have some cards.] Hmmm~