[She looks freshly... laundered, for lack of a better term. Her hair's wet, and she's dressed in something rather comfier than her prior digs, which although not her military uniform (she saves that for special occasions) mimics it exactly. Shai tends to pick things with full sleeves and a high collar when she's out in public, but now she's wearing a tank top and a pair of slacks (they're probably sweatpants. maybe.) with her hair loose and sticking damply to her shoulders. She's got plenty of visible scars (knives, burns, bullet holes, her skin's a roadmap that runs the gamut of traumatic injury) and although she's quite slight she's whipcord lean and heavily muscled besides.
She's not doing anything in particular. Just sitting beside the window with one leg drawn up, her hands curled around a teacup. When her guest pops back up she glances towards him and gives him a bright smile.]
no subject
She's not doing anything in particular. Just sitting beside the window with one leg drawn up, her hands curled around a teacup. When her guest pops back up she glances towards him and gives him a bright smile.]
Just after five. How're you feeling?