(Untitled)

[lethe_forgets]

There's a nymph perched comfortably up on one of the booth dividers, rather calmly (and relatively palely, all things considered) decked out in suitably flimsy - and jangly - Mardi Gras finery. The gauzy swathes of skirts are smoothed neatly over her lap and one knee is tugged up so that she can rest her book against it

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[lil_green_apple]

There is a dress, beads, and heels again. Her hair has returned to its usual blonde colour, at least, which is nice Pomona brightens, ever-so-slightly, at the spotting of the Lethe, and a goddessthing sits down at Lethe's table.

She is rather older than last seen.

It is tragic.

[lethe_forgets]

The pages stop turning rather quickly, and the grin that spreads across her face is crooked and wide and bright over the top of the book's spine.

"Hello."

It's a little quiet, but not too tentative.

She does not feel overly different, all things considered - goddessy, perhaps, but not too much different - and she is still Pomona.

Lethe does not put much stock in packaging.

[lil_green_apple]

"It is Mardi Gras," she imparts as she kicks her heels off. Some things, it seems, do not change.

"It has been a while."

[lethe_forgets]

"Yes, the day with bells."

There is a sigh. It is not terribly put-out, but there is some mild exasperation.

She does like clothing, generally speaking.

A grin, "For you, longer, I think."

[dontloselight]

Cloud merely eyes her ensemble.

Yes, he remembers it quite distinctly. Only - last time, she couldn't talk about it.

[lethe_forgets]

It's pretty.

Though, admittedly, there are various ways she could think of that would make it more appealing. Perhaps if it were on someone else. Or had a coat over it. Or was being viewed the dark!

After a few moments of being scrutinized her eyes raise from the writing, blinking at him over the tops of the pages.

[dontloselight]

He nods in her direction - possibly in greeting. Or something.

Well, it certainly is acknowledgment.

[lethe_forgets]

Aw, Sir Cloud, don't be shy!

Her eyes crinkle, bright and amused, and she wiggles a set of fingers back at him, book resting back against her leg.

[takiena_called]

Finn, from a nearby table, is giving her a very confused look.

He thinks that is Lethe. Probably. But she's dressed very strangely, for her. But so are lots of people, today. But-- why is she wearing bells?

Think, think.

[lethe_forgets]

Lethe is pretty sure that she is herself. A bit jingly, admittedly, but still herself.

And there's something about being half-naked that makes people paying attention to you about a thousand times more noticeable. It's kind of helpful, actually. (This is, perhaps, why female spies where ridiculously skin-tight and revealing outfits?)

She blinks - after a moment or two - eyes rising up and away from the (slightly water-warped) pages and peering around curiously.

[takiena_called]

Hmm.

She still looks like Lethe. Kinda. Mostly? He's a bad judge.

"Lethe?" he asks, just to be sure.

[lethe_forgets]

She perks up at the sounds of her name, and then further once she realizes who is saying it, folding the book into her lap and grinning widely, wiggling her fingers in greeting.

"Hello there!"