Jan 1
James: *OFFENDED SOLITASIAN NOISES*
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James: *OFFENDED SOLITASIAN NOISES*
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@brokenclockwork continued from here
“I’d offer a tip,” she says dryly, “if they’d stop trampling my petunias every time they arrived.”
Aurelia rolls her eyes as she folds her arms across her chest, weight shifting to one hip in a posture that’s clearly irritated. She exhales through her nose and tips her head back slightly.
“God of Light,” she mutters, voice edged with disbelief, “what was so important?”
@brokenclockwork sent: i just want italian food that somebody else makes.
---
“Alright, alright,” he said, hands in the air. “Question not the take away, just what the take away can bring to you. For my part, one of those nutella mochas and that exquisite porcini gnocci that place on 12th makes would start the journey to satisfaction. Oh, and perhaps several panna cotta’s.”
He paused, considering it, before setting his book down and frowning at the other man. “Is the plural of panna cotta, panna cotta’s, or is it a more of a moose situation?”
Common Ground || Blake and Ozma
@brokenclockwork
Blake ventured over to Ozpin somewhat cautiously. She was uncertain how her presence would be received by him, but she couldn’t quite shake how seeing how Salem had treated him-or rather, Ozma-had made her feel. She knew that feeling all too well, with Adam, and after seeing his silhouette on the train when she was disconnecting the train cars (though she knew it was just a hallucination, it had to be), she felt the need to talk to him now more than ever.
“Hi, Professor Ozpin.” She said softly, but hopefully loudly enough that he’d hear her. “I guess, I wanted to see how you were doing after everything. What Jinn showed us, that was a lot, and our behaviour towards you...that wasn’t fair.” She’d reacted badly, and she knew it-now that she had calmed down a little bit she felt nothing but regret.
@brokenclockwork
“Knock kno~ock!”
The voice is chipper and sing-song from the other side of the office door, accompanying an actual sharp rap on it. James calls for the newcomer to come in, and she does, breezing in in... a very un-doctor-like purple cocktail dress with a wrap or something tied around the waist. She looks more like she’s dressed for dinner than for work, but then again it’s not precisely typical working hours.
“Hello~! You called?”
“Yes, Emily, thank you for... coming, uh...” James can be heard moving around, presumably waving toward where Oz has been settled, because the doctor quickly turns her attention toward him and darts closer.
“Oh! Well, hello!” she greets, flowing down to sit beside him. “What’s going on over here?”
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It had been quite an effort to get him to the medics, but they got him there. He’s been treated for his blood loss, had his arm rebandaged, and now here they both sit. Staring at each other.
They’ve been staring at each other for quite awhile.
He’d had so much he wanted to say to Ozpin, and now that he’s had the chance... he hadn’t been able to. Just like always, he’d frozen. He’s still frozen, pretty much. What little he’s managed to say has undoubtedly only made things worse. So he’s chosen to say nothing.
He’s not even sure if Ozpin’s even bothered to stay around.
@brokenclockwork
{ @brokenclockwork sent: “ "Leo, may I... hm. ... Havens smut archive?" ” }
> “ Smut? Well... yes, we have a couple books on both dirt and the fungus, if that’s what you’re referring to. But I’ll- go ask the librarian about that, if you’d like. I don’t know why this is what you chose to ask about today. Do you have a fungus problem in your school? ”
The unmoving form of their critically-wounded... acquisition, as the old woman had said, hardly needed to be watched. Not when he was hurt like this. The old man had been keeping an eye on him, but had eventually asked her, thinking even now that he could control anything about her -- well, she still hadn’t told them, after all. She was still wearing her disguise, even. They had no reason to suspect.
She doesn’t know why she’s bothering. It’s not like there’s anything they’d be able to do, not now.
But she’s sitting here. Sitting here trying not to move too much or make any noise -- it’s very hard when all she wants to do is rub at her arms or smack her fist against her leg or hide her face against the tattered jacket folded nearby and rub her nose against it until the synthetic skin tears. But she’s being very good, she’s not doing any of that. She’s just swaying in place ever so slightly, not worried about any of the sleeping people nearby waking up and coming to check on her and seeing that at least.
She doesn’t want to do this anymore. She doesn’t want this, not if it means she’s going to lose her mother.
@brokenclockwork