"Oh." Ayumu fell silent for a few moments at that, gaze lowering to her hands as she folded them in her lap. Beneath the scared-and-weak pose her mind worked on the information she'd been given, piecing it into what she hoped was a coherent enough whole to be helpful. Until she knew if anyone else she knew was there, she'd have to proceed as though she were alone in potentially hostile territory and find a way out herself.
At least she'd made what seemed to be a good start with these two, though. Kenshin she didn't entirely trust, if only because he was clearly familiar with Kyoto and, even if he didn't look old enough to have been active during her day if he really was from fourteen years in the future, she also had no idea of knowing if he was friend or foe. He'd seemed to believe her story, though, and she could potentially use him.
Robin, despite his suspicion regarding her motives, might also be a good resource. He wasn't entirely wrong to be suspicious, of course, though he had the reason a little bit wrong. Still, though, it would be best to end the evening on a good note.
She straightened slightly, turning her head toward him a little, and hesitantly reached out a hand to brush her fingertips against his arm. It was a gesture carefully calculated to be less flirtatious and more just to get his attention, or to remind herself that he was real and solid in a strange place. "Thank you," she said quietly, and with as much sincerity as she could muster.
Re: [M55]
At least she'd made what seemed to be a good start with these two, though. Kenshin she didn't entirely trust, if only because he was clearly familiar with Kyoto and, even if he didn't look old enough to have been active during her day if he really was from fourteen years in the future, she also had no idea of knowing if he was friend or foe. He'd seemed to believe her story, though, and she could potentially use him.
Robin, despite his suspicion regarding her motives, might also be a good resource. He wasn't entirely wrong to be suspicious, of course, though he had the reason a little bit wrong. Still, though, it would be best to end the evening on a good note.
She straightened slightly, turning her head toward him a little, and hesitantly reached out a hand to brush her fingertips against his arm. It was a gesture carefully calculated to be less flirtatious and more just to get his attention, or to remind herself that he was real and solid in a strange place. "Thank you," she said quietly, and with as much sincerity as she could muster.