There was tension in the line of her shoulders, uncertainty and a vague, hopeful look on her face. Here was a woman who was not overmuch used to dealing with handsome strangers who went out of their way to flirt with her. Here was a woman who did not often go out for a good time. One who paid attention to details would see the old inkstains on her fingers, the rigid posture, the deposits of fat that formed on one who spent long hours seated. Her clothing suggested back-room office away from clientele, but her smile was warm and welcoming -- she was not kept out of sight for lack of social skills, though they could be considered a little rusty.
The slope of her shoulders suggested weariness, while the stiff way she walked returned, again, to length of time spent sitting. There were half-circles under her eyes and an earnestness about her that spoke to long hours spent working. The physical signs were there, though whether or not that work was done honestly remained to be seen.
"Its reputation is very well deserved," Jingi agreed, brushing a stray strand of hair back. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun, but flyaways had inevitably happened; the number of them suggested she had touched her hair often throughout the day, as her hair was otherwise orderly. Perhaps it had been done unintentionally or in frustration, as she attempted to subtly put them into order now that someone was talking to her.
"I never quite had a talent for music myself, so I am always delighted to hear the talented play." There was an odd hesitation there -- the mark of the tactful when realizing they do not know just how talented their conversational partner is. Her cheeks reddened. She forced a laugh, winced at the sound. She was aware she sounded like a bleating sheep, abhorred herself for it. "I dare say there isn't much of interest to tell of myself; I am not glamorous or interesting, I'm afraid."
The slope of her shoulders suggested weariness, while the stiff way she walked returned, again, to length of time spent sitting. There were half-circles under her eyes and an earnestness about her that spoke to long hours spent working. The physical signs were there, though whether or not that work was done honestly remained to be seen.
"Its reputation is very well deserved," Jingi agreed, brushing a stray strand of hair back. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun, but flyaways had inevitably happened; the number of them suggested she had touched her hair often throughout the day, as her hair was otherwise orderly. Perhaps it had been done unintentionally or in frustration, as she attempted to subtly put them into order now that someone was talking to her.
"I never quite had a talent for music myself, so I am always delighted to hear the talented play." There was an odd hesitation there -- the mark of the tactful when realizing they do not know just how talented their conversational partner is. Her cheeks reddened. She forced a laugh, winced at the sound. She was aware she sounded like a bleating sheep, abhorred herself for it. "I dare say there isn't much of interest to tell of myself; I am not glamorous or interesting, I'm afraid."
