Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (
ikissdhimbck) wrote in
milliways_bar2008-10-12 01:45 pm
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Miss Katherine is outside the bar today, collecting leaves. She has never seen color like this before, and she imagines her children would get a thrill out of the fall foliage if she brings a few leaves back with her to her schoolhouse.
Whenever she's able to get back to her schoolhouse, that is.
She's strolling leisurely, a light wool shawl around her shoulders. There is a cool breeze, but the sun is warm, and every now and again you can see her tip her chin into the warm light, drawing in a deep breath, and letting the faintest of smiles grace her sad face.
Distractions are welcome.
[tiny!tag: Miss Katherine Barlow, The Russian Astronaut (Esfir), Arnold, Dan Evans]
ooc: If you can read this... this is still open for new tags. XD
Whenever she's able to get back to her schoolhouse, that is.
She's strolling leisurely, a light wool shawl around her shoulders. There is a cool breeze, but the sun is warm, and every now and again you can see her tip her chin into the warm light, drawing in a deep breath, and letting the faintest of smiles grace her sad face.
Distractions are welcome.
[tiny!tag: Miss Katherine Barlow, The Russian Astronaut (Esfir), Arnold, Dan Evans]
ooc: If you can read this... this is still open for new tags. XD
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And where Katherine is strolling leisurely, Esfir is running steadily. Boots, track-pants, singlet, a belt that really isn't made of leather, but her hair is still pinned up around her head like normal. Running steadily means that she's making no effort to be silent, but also means that she can see Katherine a long time before she is in any danger of runnng into her.
Which she doesn't.
She may slow to a walk and wave, though.
"Pryvet, Gospozha."
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"Good afternoon, Esfir!" Katherine nods, managing a sincere smile. The outfit Esfir is currently running in gets a slightly curious look from Katherine.
"Why are you running?"
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"Habit. I try and run everyday. And second - I like being outside."
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You don't see many joggers around Green Lake in 1887.
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And seriously? He just doesn't get it. The whole walking-in-the-woods thing. It just ... isn't exciting.
When he happens to spot someone else looking to be doing the same activity, he takes the chance to engage in conversation.
"Good day."
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"Good afternoon."
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"I don't suppose you know very much about the pleasures of strolling through the woods, do you?"
Beat.
"Odd a question as that may seem - I know. You see, I can't quite seem to get the same enjoyment from it that others do."
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"To be honest, I'm more accustomed to the desert on horseback, than I am an environment such as this," she replies, making a sweeping gesture with a hand full of fiery red leaves.
"May I venture to guess you're used to more urban surroundings?" she smiles.
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"Good day."
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"Good afternoon," she smiles.
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"I have to say that I don't mind finding it autumn here. I'm missing it in my time, and it's good to get a glimpse of it."
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She wonders what he means when he says he's 'missing it in [his] time.'
"Are you from the city?"
Because, clearly, outer space has not occurred to her.
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When he catches sight of the lady collecting leaves, he's curious.
"Are you going to put those in a book?"
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"Perhaps. Or I might let my students use them, for crafts."
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She offers a dainty hand with a sweet smile.
"I'm Katherine. What's your name?"
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A rather vibrant red leaf is balanced on one of his horns.
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Especially when you're from Katherine's era.
Her large blue eyes blink at him a few times, as if wondering if he's really there or not.
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"Oh by the Lion's Mane, I was writing."
The leaf is glared at as he looks up and sees her then scrambles to stand, his hooves slightly muffled by the leaves,
"I.i didn't know anyone else was out here."
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"Terribly sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," she says, not missing the irony.
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It's after one of these trips that he's walking back up to the bar. His limp isn't quite as pronounced (since here in Milliways, he feels very little pain in his bad leg and that makes it much easier to walk) as it would be back in his own world, but it's still there. It's nice out. Dry. Crisp air.
No dust.
His hands are stuffed into the pockets of a coat, and he has the collar turned up against the breeze, as he walks, boots crunching against the leaves.
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She's surprised when she sees Dan. She wasn't aware he had a limp, however reduced.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Evans!" she calls.
And after a moment, amends: "Dan!"
Old habits die hard.
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If he was wearing a hat, he'd tip it, but he's not so he settles for a polite nod of his head in her direction and a small wave as he approaches.
He makes his way over to her.
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"You're hurt?" she asks, uncertainly, motioning to his slight limp.
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