<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/10/HappyPunk03.jpg)</div>Happy was at least thoroughly accustomed to unpleasant aromas, courtesy of her chosen profession.  Still, her gaze flickered rapidly over the ravaged edgerunner even as she offered him a warm smile.  The coffee, she held out from above - fingers spread around the top, so that he could grasp the main body of the cup as easily as possible... and so that she could drop it should he reach for<em>her</em>instead of the drink.  At the least, she hoped that it should be fairly simple for her to yank her arm back into the (comparative) safety of the van.<br/><br/>Inwardly, she wished that she had the option for subvocal comms transmissions, so that she could alert people to the striking oddity in the new arrival's gear.  The smartgun link she had glimpsed on his palm was distinctly high-end and not nearly old enough to fit with his over-the-hill appearance - quite possibly truly cutting edge, in fact.<br/><br/>A quick mental rummage through available options yielded nothing - it was not as if Russian and Romanian were even from the same branch of the Indo-European linguistic tree... so while she could be quite confident of relaying messages that went over their new companion's head, there was precious little chance of Anastasia grasping any of it.<br/><br/>"Can't promise it's much good," she says apologetically - and quite sincerely, truly hoping that the man really isn't a threat.  "Hopefully it's not a load of donkeyballs."<br/><br/>