(Untitled)

[argyle_princess]

Hannah, over by the fireplace, with a loop of string stretched between her fingers. She just wanted to see if she could still remember how make string figures. She's stuck on Jacob's ladder, and fast losing patience with the whole thing.

Distraction, in the form of company, would be lovely.

Comments

[alec_or_alonzo]

A Friday night is a Friday night, after all, so Phil is dressed for going out. Someone, or some door, to be more precise, had other plans it seems, so instead of being at a Christmas party in Bolingbroke she's heading over to Hannah's table to say hello.

"Evening, Hannah," she says cheerily.

[argyle_princess]

"Hey, Phil. You look nice tonight."

[alec_or_alonzo]

"Don't I, though?" says Phil, in a manner only she can ever get away with. "My chum Alice is throwing a Christmas party this evening, and I got the dress specially for the occasion. I do hope being pulled in here won't make me late for it. I'd hate to miss it."

[argyle_princess]

Hannah laughs. "Well, I suppose you could go straight home, but then we wouldn't get to talk. Be a shame to miss your party, though. . . "

It's a puzzler.

[politestpirate]

If there was any sort of protocol during his own time for this sort of thing- Wellard was in the navy and never got around to having to deal with it. And here at Milliways things are Clearly Different- which he rather likes, but that does not mean he knows what is considered proper for this, even still.

So. Hopefully just walking over is alright? With two (normal, non-soy!) vanilla capuchinos?

"... Good evening, Hannah."

[argyle_princess]

Normal coffee drinks are never a bad start to a conversation.

"Hey, Henry," she says, easily, looking up from the string with a smile. "How're you?"

[politestpirate]

Wellard smiles back, setting one of the cups down on a side table. "Well enough, and yourself? Aside from tying yourself up?" He eyes the string tangled around Hannah's hands.

[argyle_princess]

Hannah pulls her fingers free and drops the tangle of thread on a table.

"I used to be good at that," she tells him, picking up the coffee instead. "Thanks. And I'm good."

A look over the edge of the cup. "Only well enough?"