milliways_bar | (no subject)

It's unusual, really, to see the star much of anywhere on her own.

But she's there all the same - curled up in one of the armchairs near the fire with her legs over the armrest and a long white jacket slung over her lap. There's a neat slice on the side of one coatsleeve and a larger hole in the shoulder - and the fine, white string she's attempting to wrangle has stubbornly wound its way down her arm and doesn't seem particularly inclined to cooperate with any amount of frustrated glaring.

She's terrible at this. (Which, truthfully, is most of the motivation for not attempting it upstairs - where certain people could wake up and see.)

She's terrible at it, but that doesn't seem to make her particularly inclined to give up. She continues on, frowning stubbornly, curses soft and mumbled against bleeding fingers and messily tended material.

Interruption would be a blessing. Unless you happen to be a very angry sewing needle offended by the sort of language your tiny, prickly child might be picking up, mind you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

New curse words? They must discuss some time.

"I'm okay now. Just have to be careful not to run into anything else for a few more days."

So, you know, she doesn't get internal bleeding.

Internal bleeding is bad. Insides are important and should be maintained.

"Please do not," she smiles, edges of her brightening slightly. "I really would hate to have anyone dying - and I am certain that you would not enjoy it yourself either."

The narration agrees.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'd rather not die. Not now, at least."

"It does not seem like very much fun," she agrees. "All too permanent for my tastes."

She's seen it. It's unpleasant - and often messy.

Messy probably being an understatement in the cases of the Lords of Stormhold.

"Too permanent. I'll have to agree with that."

There was slitting of necks. Not very enjoyable to watch, really. There are far better sources of entertainment.

"Exactly," she nods with mock solemnity. "And, besides, you do not strike me as particularly nefarious and deserving of such things."

"That's good to know. And I must return the compliment."

[ ooc; Slowtime? ]

"Thank you kindly," she sketches out a seated bow, dipping her chin slightly.

"And once again for helping."

(OOC: Of course! G'night!)

"My pleasure."

Bloody needle.

"So what do you do? Back at home, I mean?"

"Walking," she laughs. "A great deal of walking and trying not to get eaten by things."

Sadly, this is a rather accurate description.

"And I am relatively certain that I have accidentally accepted a throne."

Which is troubling, really, given her complete failure at being a proper lady.

"Well, congratulations. Or my condolences, depending on how much you like it."

"Luckily there will be a great deal of stalling before actually stepping into any sort of position."

Stalling is key to being royalty.

... really, it is.

She tilts her head, "What do you do? As I am certain it must be more interesting."

"I'm not so sure. I'm a psychiatrist."

"That sounds," she blinks. "Dangerous - or overly complicated."

She's not precisely certain which one.

"I'd go with 'overly complicated', although it mostly depends on the patient."

"It is something like doctors then?"

She gestures vaguely back at the coat.

"Though with less sewing people back up?"

"Yeah - my official title is 'doctor', but it, eh. I got used to it after a bit. And fortunately for me, it involving no physical sewing whatsoever. Psychiatrists are doctors of the mind, if that doesn't sound too weird."

"Oh, no. It makes fine sense," she nods in consideration. "I will admit to seeing many rather sick minds."

If only Madolyn knew what sorts of shenanigans people in Stormhold got up to. It'd be a psychiatrist's field day.

"That's good, then. Everyone needs to talk now and then, you know?"

She'd have more than enough customers. The fancy sort that pay with gold - or newt eyes.

"It is a preferable alternative to removing people's organs."

It really is!