(Video; UN: amidala)

[politicallyinclined]

(She is pale and resolved; this is not a woman who is unaccustomed to strife.)

This seems the quickest way to go about my search. (And since her physical stamina hasn't completely returned.) I am Padmé Amidala, Senator of Naboo. Am I known to anyone present?

(She wants to be known. She doesn't want to be known. She wants a friend. She doesn't want anyone to touch her.)

It's not terribly important. (But it is.) Of course we can get to know one another. If you wish to speak, I will listen.

Comments

video;

[politicallyinclined]

(Those first words surprise a small smile from her. Yes, it can be that easy, can't it. She isn't alone as long as she keeps talking and keeps reaching out.)

For that, I am grateful.

(His title intrigues her and helps her forget her own problems.)

A farmer and warrior. Those professions do not usually accompany one another, do they?

(The question is sweet and she softens.)

I have. I don't feel well, but I suspect it will pass with time.

Re: video;

[kokuryuu]

[Souma puts down the book he was studying with and gets up, carrying his device with him to keep talking. This person's affect tugs hard at his heartstrings. He remembers how awful he was at arrival, upon leaving his world. It was a great trauma, for him. It was filled with conflicting emotions. You can't just smile and be okay with that-- with leaving everything that is precious to you, everything you would fight for and die for, behind. And the likelihood that some jaded person who likes to annoy people as self-defense would get on and say "hey fancy lady lolz blow it our your ass you're in avalon get over it YEET" is high. So... despite his hesitance to approach social things, he wants to help.

So he speaks very softly, careful not to make this sound patronizing. He is going to fetch a bamboo water flask and fill it with clean water, and to collect some of the 8-grain rice that he made this morning and carefully form it with clean salted hands into triangular rice balls.]

I... felt ill when I left my world. Very ill. I-i-it did not go away quickly. But with time, and friends, and... s-safety. It improved.

[It doesn't go away. But it gets better! Souma thinks the best thing to do is to give a quiet little chat until he can get outside and then politely ask if he can bring her some food. So he pushes himself, shy as he is, to talk a bit. He stumbles over words here and there, because he has a speech impediment, but he is really trying to get words out.]

Eeh... am-among my kind, it is common, dear lady. The... only places not conquered and laid waste by wretched human empires are... vast wildlands. Around the edge of the large landmass we all live on. My people are not... human, we are a type of mortal being called... a yokai.

Our kind live hidden away from humans high in an impassable mountain range. My ancestors once served as warriors for the human lords, but things became too corrupt. They desired a simple farming life in tune with the land.

So, w-w-when they retreated to the high mountains, they used the martial arts to guide and discipline them. Other tribes of yokai also live there. S-some are much more warlike than us-- so my people had to maintain their fi-fi... fighting skills. And we must have food. So we all farm. Our ways are... stubborn-- we insist on being expert at both, I suppose.

[Souma ducks his head with a huff of amusement and a rueful little smile on his face, as he shapes a rice ball with wet hands near the water bucket he uses for a sink.]

Perfectionism. Not a helpful habit.