@grievehart
The steady hum and gentle occasional rocking of the train would have been relaxing in another scenario, perhaps, but the way Quistis struggled to flip through the pages of a magazine she wasn't even truly reading was a subtle sign of the nervous energy she attempted to mask, easily missed if one wasn't entirely observant of her behavior.
She was no stranger to the concept of mediation, often having been the one tasked to look after the more troublesome students in her past, but she never felt she had been particularly skilled at it. Time and time again, she proved that her efforts to communicate were destined to fall short. She had the intellect, the charm, the observational skills, the grace expected of a diplomat, and yet the pieces never quite fit together.
The task of returning to Timber as a representative of Balamb Garden wasn't at all the type of mission she was expecting to be recruited for, but a part of her felt a swell of confidence at having been chosen above all others, people who she felt would be much more qualified, much more successful than she. Xu, maybe. Nida, even. But with that confidence came the nagging thought buzzing around in the back of her skull that told her that if this fails, it's on her.
Squall. Everything seemed to come naturally to him. She knew how irritated he could get when reminded of how unintentionally successful he was at most things, and how people seemed content to take a mile for every inch he gave. The expectations of him, the pressure he must have felt, the pressure he likely feels now. Knowing this of him brought a small amount of comfort to her system, dulling the racing of her heart as she willed away her thoughts of what-ifs and why-mes. Not that she wanted to see him feel uncomfortable, of course, but the thought that she might not be the only one nervous about this—even if she was projecting those feelings onto him—is ultimately what steadied her hands.
Quistis closed the magazine and set it between them on the cushioned seat of the Timber-bound train and pushed it towards him, a silent offering. Although she hadn't read it, what she could glean from the pictures in it were idealistic designs of future travel. Skyferries, or something like that. Although air travel made sense as the next step in worldwide tech since the radio industry was flourishing once more, she couldn't imagine it would happen any time soon. The world was still in need of improving what it already had, many countries still in debt as a result of the damages during the war so many years ago. The Dollet Dukedom a prime example.
A slight buzzing sound, quiet and barely noticeable, came from the speaker against the wall of the train compartment. Immediately following it came a four-note jingle in indication of an announcement. A deep voice cut through the static.
["Attention passengers. We will be arriving in Timber in approximately one hour. I repeat. We will be arriving in Timber in approximately one hour. Thank you." ]
The static remained for a moment before a dull thump sounded, followed by silence. Qusitis rested her head against the seat, frowned at the feeling of her hair clip pushing into the base of her skull, and sat back up straight again. Truly, no comfort would come to her this day. Figures.
"The Timber Parliament will be meeting with us at the Tomra Convention Center at 1600 hours, meaning we will have—" She paused, hooking a finger into the cuff of her SeeD uniform to peek at her watch. "Two hours to kill before then." Enough time to walk around, maybe get a bite to eat, do something to get her thoughts in order.
"Could have a drink at one of the pubs near the station, take the edge off?" It was said in jest. Mostly. The last thing she needed was to be inebriated during a conference about the SeeD's continued involvement in a still-unliberated city, although she wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly what she needed to calm her nerves enough to fulfill her duties assisting the Commander of Balamb Garden. "I'm definitely going to need one afterwards, though."
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