lift
Prim and proper, she only shoots a smile at her companion as she steps inside.

Figuring she'll get to her destination soon enough, Helen simply keeps her eyes on the numbers as they--oh, well, that's not good. Quickly bracing her hands against the sides of the lift, she mutters a soft bloody hell as she grimaces.

"Not quite as safe to operate as advertised, I'd suggest," she says with a sigh, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she steps forwards, sliding a hand against the closed doors. It doesn't seem as if they'll budge, but maybe... her eyes dart upwards, to where she expects there may be some sort of panels.

Looking over at her companion, her smile turns a little tighter. "Just how much of a hurry are you in, to arrive at your destination?"

mealtime
She's staring at the plate, looking briefly contemplative.

"I do wonder what sort of delicacy this could be considered," she spoke, mostly to herself. "If truly eaten live like this, either nutritional value, thrill, or texture is the integral part of the meal."

Her eyes dart up, and she quirks an eyebrow at the person across from her. "Don't suppose you might've tasted it in your time here? I would normally act as the Roman in Rome, but..." she looked back down at her plate. "... I must admit, this is a part of Rome I would rather not visit."