(no subject)

[boghadair]

A blast of cold Scottish air fills the bar as Merida marches over her threshold, pausing only for a second to slam her door closed.

She takes an appreciative look around the bar, stopping to stare at the enormous Christmas tree decorating the room. It reminds her of the sweetness of hearth and home in a way - and also of the oncomming lectures from her mother attendant to said heart and said home.

Merida eventually sallies off to the range to try her hand at the targets with her bow and arrows.

If she's going to be hemmed in at home then in Milliways she'll have no master.

(no subject)

[just_cant_lose]

 
The front door opens on another snowy scene, but nothing like the one out in the grounds. Here, the snow is driving hard, and there are trucks trying to turn in the road, and horns are blaring, and voices are raised in harsh, Eastern European tones. 

Jim, aged seventeen - dressed in workman's trousers, a filthy old top, and a cheap coat that's at least three times too big for him - turns in the doorway when something is yelled in his direction. He yells something back in Russian, then something else in Czech. Then he boots the door closed behind him and lets out a visible breath of relief, before he starts coughing and can't seem to stop. 

He hates not having staff for this shit. It's a problem he's attempting to resolve, which is why he's in this stupid situation in the first place. He needs a shower, and clean clothes, and sleep but nothing's happening before he gets some proper food. Bar provides a steak and a Coke, which he takes over to a sofa near the giant Christmas tree.

This turns out to be a mistake, as the twinkling lights keep trying to lull him to sleep. Between that and coughing, he's not getting very far on dinner.

(no subject)

[is_the_motion]

[oom: They grow so fast]