Abbey Randelle: *its a tiny little restaurant. "Little Bangkok Thai Cuisine" fake wood panelling and atrocious christmas lights strung up with pictures of thailand and fake flowers. it hardly seems a place abbey would frequent.. except fot the glorious smells coming form the kitchen*

Michelle Morgan: Up to the place she walks, opening the door and entering through. As always when she visits with Abbey, she's dressed up from the usual...today, VERY dressed up from usual. She's got a red Travis Ayers Godet Skirt Suit, her hair back in a pony-tail. If it weren't for the fairly famous face and the warm smile, one might not recognize her.

Abbey Randelle: *abbey's at the tiny waitress station/hostess booth, murmering politely with the owner when Michelle strides in. Abbey is instantly recognizable. White and white. a blade case slung along her back. she smiles politely to miss morgan* Miss Morgan, A pleasure. thank you for joining me.

Michelle Morgan: She smiles to Abbey, heading over. "Hey, Abbey. How are you?"

Abbey Randelle: Perfect. I trust you've been well? *the owner escorts them to a small table, the only one not a booth in the entire place. loud yellow plastic flowery tablecloth blaring up at them.*

Michelle Morgan: "I've been...busy." She blinks a little, sighing, even as she smiles. "Very, very busy. And you?"

Abbey Randelle: Rather the same. *she sets her epee at her feet and slides gracefully into her chair, one leg crossing over the other.* are you partial to Thai?

Michelle Morgan: "I love it." She takes a seat, not quite as graceful as she might otherwise...she's not used to a business suit.

Abbey Randelle: Despite appearances, I've found this is likely one of the best thai restaurants in newyork. *a polite smile, she inclines her head to the owner who's lingering like a vulture to take their orders.*

Michelle Morgan: She smiles. "Awesome." She looks at the menu very briefly, then orders the Pad Ped Nor Mai and a diet Coke.

Abbey Randelle: *the white wisp of a girl orders a small bowl of Tom yan goom and pad thai, along with crysanthemum juice. she folds her hands delicately in front of her and considers, grey eyes on the table a moment before she breathes* Miss Morgan, .. I must admit this is something more than a casual social meeting.

Michelle Morgan: She looks up at Abbey, hands folded in her lap, and raises an eyebrow, even as she smiles. "Okay, then. I'll bite. What can I do for you, Abbey?"

Abbey Randelle: ..I am to be wed, Miss Morgan. and I find myself at something of a disadvantage in choosing both guests, and members of the wedding party. *her voice is a murmer, the girl looking a little uncomfortable, for all her calm*

Michelle Morgan: She blinnks in surprise...and then, positively beams at the news. "Well, congratulations, Abbey! I'm very happy for you." Her expression conveys nothing but joy toward the other woman. "So how can I help?"

Abbey Randelle: I thought perhaps you might assist me in being a member of the wedding party. *well.. what was she to say.. I have no friends? a polite smile*

Abbey Randelle: *the girl's sitting primly, hands folded, engagement ring on the appropriate hand glimmering red and white in contrast to the faint blue circles beneath pale grey eyes*

Michelle Morgan: "I would be quite honored to be in your wedding party, Abbey." She inclines her head toward the other, the joyous nature still pervading her features. "So when's the date?"

Abbey Randelle: *she's no blushing bride, but then again.. when had you ever seen her blush. she murmers softly* It will likely be in late february, perhaps early march. Its as of yet quite flexible.

Michelle Morgan: "Good, long engagement. I admire your patience." She smiles.

Abbey Randelle: *oh its wearing. an inclination of her head at the praise* There are a good many preparations needing made, I regret anything sooner would be disasterous.

Michelle Morgan: She chuckles at that. "True enough, I guess. Well, like I said, I would be honored to be part of your wedding in whatever way you'd like."

Abbey Randelle: Thank you Miss Morgan. I've been meaning to contact sam in the same capacity.

Abbey Randelle: would she be willing? I understand she isn't entirely the type to gush about infants and weddings. *yes. abbey just called them "infants" as though they were some sort of bacteria. she was all gush*

Michelle Morgan: "You should have told me...I think you know she's living with me now, right?" She tilts her head. "I could have brought her along. As it is, I'll have her give you a call, so you can set up a time to ask her."

Michelle Morgan: "I think she probably would, yeah. Pretty sure." She nods. "I'm sure she'd want to be there, at the very least."

Abbey Randelle: Oh. *no. no she didn't know that. a slight blink* Of course. that would be most appropriate. *lesbians in her wedding party however.. was not. perhaps.. oh.. who would know?* She'll certaintly be recieving an invitation, regardless.

Michelle Morgan: Oh, yeah, who would know? After all, Michelle's only an exceptionally outspoken woman about her liberal views and bisexuality. She nods amicably, noting the blink but saying nothing about it. "I will most definitely have her give you a call, then."

Abbey Randelle: thank you, miss morgan. *she falls silent as ther food arrives. thank.. god. she sips her soup noiselessly*

Michelle Morgan: "Of course." She starts eating quietly, picking at the chicken and bamboo as she lets the silence take up the space for the moment. She's hardly uncomfortable. Just hungry.

Abbey Randelle: *she finishes her soup , leaving a little in the bowl and mentally going through the guest list. she manages not to cringe, simply folding her hands again with a near inaudible sigh*

Michelle Morgan: She looks up at Abbey, raising an eyebrow at the sigh. "You okay, Abbey?"

Abbey Randelle: *a curl of her lips * I'm well miss morgan. planning is simply tiresome. Assembling a guest list appropriately is proving something of a difficulty.

Michelle Morgan: She smiles a little. "You need a wedding planner."

Abbey Randelle: I have a wedding planner. However, some things require an amount discretion and understanding that the woman unfortunately does not possess. *grey eyes flick across to the rock star. she murmers* It is of course, not the papparazzi I worry about 'crashing the party" as it were.

Michelle Morgan: A grin. "Fair enough. Does the groom know of your...special talents?"

Abbey Randelle: *she stiffens slightly* Yes, Miss Morgan. he is aware.

Michelle Morgan: She shrugs a little, apologetically. "Sorry. Didn't mean to step on a toe there." She considers. "You know what...he's not 'in the know,' so to speak...but I can talk to my manager, Larry. See if he can help you out with some of the planning. The man's planned entire music festivals, press junkets, and everything else under the sun. And he's pretty unflappable. He might be able to give you a hand, if you like."

Abbey Randelle: *she opens her mouth to protest.. after all this was a high society OLD money wedding. not some tawdry press junket.. but decorum overrides her and she ends up murmering* that would be lovley miss Morgan. Thank you.

Michelle Morgan: She nods with a smile. "Don't worry. He knows what he's doing, and while he might grumble a little at you, he's really one of the best at things like this. He'll take care of you right."

Abbey Randelle: *a polite smile. purses her lips a moment before having a sip of her juice. oh .. dear.*

Michelle Morgan: She leans back, taking a sip of her diet Coke, before sighing a bit, looking out the window. "So how else have you been, Abbey?"

Abbey Randelle: Quite well. *she murmers, considering* I beleive I am likely leaving our mutual organization.

Michelle Morgan: Whoa. That gives her pause. She looks from the window back to Abbey, brow furrowing. "Really. Why is that?" She doesn't look hostile, just very surprised.

Abbey Randelle: well I'm not precisely typical, am i? *she quirks a pale rose mouth* I am not overly partial to displaying my emotions in public, nor am I comfortable with any display which is inappropriate or remotely extreme. In addition I abhor substance abuse. *she sips her juice savoring it a moment* You perceive my difficulty.

Michelle Morgan: "No, I don't, to be honest." She shrugs. "We're not about rampant drug abuse, even if a lot of us partake. We're about breaking past the mental barriers we've set for ourselves." She shrugs. "But we're also about choice. Long as you're not going to the other side--and I'm fairly sure you don't mean that--I'm happy if you've found somewhere that's more comfortable for you." She sighs a little bit, the epression slightly belying her statement.

Abbey Randelle: Yes Miss Morgan, I'm quite afraid I've fallen. I expect an infant sacrificed to me each tuesday. preferably unsoiled. *was that an attempt at humor? she must be tired. the girls face remains calm as she slips a thin white strand of hair behind her ear* No, I am like to join Issac's former organization.

Michelle Morgan: Mention of the dead young man brings an immediate pain to her eyes, but she nods. "I see. Well, best of luck to you there."

Abbey Randelle: Have I upset you miss morgan? This was not my intention.

: ((*run by smooches from the mousie who is on at work when she shouldn't be*))

Abbey Randelle: (eeek!))

Michelle Morgan: She shakes her head. "Not intentionally, I'm sure. Ishacus is just a sore subject with me. And Sam, for that matter. His death struck us hard. I would appreciate it if you didn't bring it up around her."

Abbey Randelle: I understand. Miss Jacobs and I discussed this matter. She doesn't still feel his demise was in anyway her fault, does she? *there's a politely appropriate amount of sympathy in there somewhere*

Michelle Morgan: "I don't think she ever won't. I don't think I ever won't, in a very small way, at least." She shrugs, though the pain's already fading away. Feel it fully, let it go. "Regardless, don't feel bad. It's my issue, not yours. Thank nothing of it."

Abbey Randelle: Of course. Forgive me for bringing up the subject. *and the sympathy is gone. unwanted = unneeded = a waste of emotion. she smoothes a bit of nothing off her shirt sleeve with delicate fingers*

Michelle Morgan: She waves it off. "Well, anyway. If you're joining that particular social club, then the best of luck to you."

Abbey Randelle: Thank you. *a polite nod* What has kept you so busy, if i might be so bold?

Michelle Morgan: "Well, let's see." She starts ticking off. "Michael Thompson's left, I've taken his old post. Johnny's just left, leaving me and your personal favorite, Arlett, back at HQ. Meanwhile, my record label wanta an album like, yesterday. And the radio show. And so on."