(Untitled)

[river_meimei]

No manuals or diagnostics results today. River's people-watching instead.

Watching something, anyway. Probably people.

A mug of tea (green, with lemon) rests on the bench in front of her. Both of her hands are wrapped around it, as she sits in the corner of a booth with her back to the wall.

Comments

[last1out]

She's there.

She looks... tired. Tired's a good word for it.

She is what she is.

[river_meimei]

It's a constant.

River looks at Death, at that whiter-than-bone face and the kind and fathomless eyes, at the stark reality of her.

And -- smiles, just a little, half-sad.

[last1out]

The corner of her mouth goes up, along with her shoulders, just a fraction.

What can you do?

[river_meimei]

River doesn't know.

But she loves, and she trusts. And if that's not enough to prevent the grief, it's enough to prevent the anger.

She glances down at her tea, and back up. After a long moment: "Hile, Lady."

Very soft.

[e_delmar]

Yeah, it hurts like hell.

But he can still move, and dammit if he ain't gonna do so 'til he can't no more.

S'why he's getting his own drink, even if it is more whiskey than coffee -- even if he shouldn't even be drinkin' the whiskey.

And so it's a smile, at least, that he gives River as he walks by.

[river_meimei]

He gets a distracted glance, a moment too late for normalcy -- and then, because he's Ennis, he gets a small smile in return.

[e_delmar]

The smile gets a little bigger, and he shuffles over to her table, sitting down across from her.

He takes a sip of his drink, and then a larger one.

"Thanks."

[river_meimei]

River blinks at him.