The Salle, Monday Midday

[ancientbschamp]

It was pretty typical of any trip back home for Gabrielle to barely get a chance to breathe, let alone adjust to . . . a lot of eventful things, and that was the downside of heading back to Fandom afterward. She'd gotten in late last night and crashed out for a good ten hours before her growling stomach finally woke her up, and then, in the

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[wesleynotponcy]

Know what was probably a terrible idea? Trying to beat up a dummy from a wheelchair. Know who was coming down to the salle to try it anyway? This guy!

"Oh," he said, pausing at the door when he saw Gabrielle. "Hello."

[ancientbschamp]

"Hi, Wesley," replied Gabrielle, who was a lot less henna-tattooed and yellow-wearing than she'd been last time she'd spoken to him, and more leather-clad instead. ("Clad" being relative. Sigh, Gabrielle's outfits.) She hadn't started in on the dummy yet, just picked up the sai and started to spin them experimentally in her hands. (Her fingers were sore from getting accustomed to the grip. She'd have to get used to that.)

"Gods -- what happened to you?"

[wesleynotponcy]

"I was just about to ask the same thing," Wesley said a bit wryly, wheeling in a little further and managing not to run over anything or collide with any walls, for once. "You look -- different."

Yes, Wesley, just ignore that elephant there and focus on the slightly smaller, more leather-clad one. Why not.

[ancientbschamp]

"It's a long story," Gabrielle answered with a low, brief chuckle that sounded more sheepish than amused. "I had to go home for a while, and what I thought would be one simple mission turned out to be a lot more."

Yes, "let's stop a Roman army from enslaving the Amazons" was simple by her standards.

"But never mind that. You've been hurt -- how did this happen?"

Nice try with the elephant-ignoring, Wes.