milliways_bar | (no subject)

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sameth

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The young blond girl sprawled carelessly in front of the fireplace is people-watching, the remaining half of her bottle of vodka sitting nearby. She is knitting, her hands moving without conscious direction, controlling a neat quartet of small double-edged needles, keeping the soft gray wool moving in pattern.

She might give you some of her vodka.

(OOC: Help out the gal stuck at the airport as her plane gets later and later - I'll be here, most likely, for the next 45 minutes... possibly longer. *sigh* HE FINALLY CALLED BOARDING OMG - I'll be back on in roughly an hour and a half once I'm home.)

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Sam is also by the fireplace, eating his way through a big plate of fish and rice and looks up,

"What are you making?"

"Gloves." She replies, as she makes sure to add the correct number of stitches so the gloves will sit comfortably over her hands. "The snow may be melting, but it will be cold for some months yet."

"It will. Milliways is like Belisaere, spring always takes its time arriving."

"I do not believe I have ever been there." She notes politely, one hand keeping her stitches from slipping loose while she takes a drink of vodka with the other. "That is your home?"

"Yes, but I've been Bound for a while. Sorry, I shouldn't keep you from keeping track,"

He's never knitted but he knows counting is involved.

"Hmmm? Oh, this. Don't worry. I've done it enough times, it's not hard." She shrugs, going back to her autopilot knitting. "Gloves wear out in hard winters, after all."

"They do. I've always worn leather gloves, they work better for riding and those days when a warm fire is far away."

"True, but they are not nearly so cute." And even leather wears through in time... and she tends to get more pissed when she rips up a pair of leather gloves, versus a knitted pair which she can easily replace.

"I never really thought about that part,"

Gloves are gloves, they work well and keep your hands warm.

The girl (she could be a girl, really, given her looks) wears enough bangles and rings and such to make a Forever 21 fanatic envious. Of course her gloves need to look cute!

"It is very important to present the right image, after all. You couldn't imagine me in drab browns, now could you?"

"Not really, no,"

She looks like some of the girls around court, they always pay attention to things like that.

"There you go." She nods, agreeably, pausing her work again for another round of vodka. "Just like I shouldn't make them a bright yellow - too ostentatious."

"Also it would get dirtier quicker."

"Bah, that is nothing. They are meant to get dirty, no? Only way to not get dirty is to not get used." She waves a hand airily, because she's ever really lived a life that was overly conducive to staying clean for long periods of time. Things just... happen.

Sam's the same way, in theory as a prince he should know how to look presentable but forges are more fun,

"Yes, it is and things should get used."

She tilts her head, just a bit - well yes. Of course. That is, almost entirely, the point of things.

"What would you do with a thing you do not use?"

"I don't know. I mean I make toys but those are still for something."

She shrugs, with a 'and there you go' gesture. She isn't quite sure what he was going for there, so... she leaves it alone.

He's not sure either, "Do you knit lots of things?"

"Whatever I need - it is a good way to pass the time." Well, that, and between low supplies and long watches, it's always good to make at least some of your hobbies productive.

"That's always important. Time can go really slowly here."

"Slowly? No, it seems to be going just as fast as usual." Slow time she knows, the slow trickle of seconds in the Twilight, each moment becoming an age the deeper you go.

"It just seems slow sometimes,"

The days when he doesn't have projects to work on and hasn't slept properly, time just drags.

"Seems slow? You have not learned to entertain yourself, mmm?" She teases, smirking cheerfully.

"Well, yes, but that doesn't always work,"

He grins because he hasn't really had that problem lately.

"Practice is important." She reminds him, still smirking. "Don't worry, a short attention span is normal for the young."

She is a fine one to talk. Just catch her right after she transforms. Hyperactive children have nothing on her.

"I know how to work until whatever project I'm doing is done,"

He's just bad at doing things like sitting in Petty Court and State dinners.

"Good for you?" She offers, with a shrug. She's still getting used to humans, to conversations that have nothing to do with Dark or Light or training or Yulia or her dogs.

He shrugs and goes back to his dinner, he just wanted her to know that he can focus to get things done.

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