Absolutely everybody -- at or near the fireplace

[cook_the_rude]

This evening, there are several people relaxing by or near the fireplace the fireplace, doing slightly unexpected things. Among them are:

• Katrina Crane, seated in a comfortable chair, reading -- a romance novel?
• Pearse Harman, scribbling down bullet points for tomorrow's sermon while at a table with a glass of -- beer?
• Teja, in his usual chair by the trilobite tank, with all four cats and a soundly sleeping Egil, playing his -- guitar?
• Lady Margolotta, at a table drinking cocoa and cuddling a cute, pink-nosed -- rat?
• Dr. Hannibal Lecter, lounging on a sofa with his feet up, reading a book on -- demonology?
• Dorian Gray, sitting cross-legged in from of a coffee table, sensuously enjoying several different -- cupcakes?
• Madame Thénardier, hunched on an ottoman right by the fire, voraciously reading a book by -- Hilary Mantel?

[[OOC: Say in your tag whom you want -- open until it scrolls! Not trying to emulate the sheer numbers on the last one, though...]]

Comments

[patterns_bloom]

Alana descends the stairs slowly today, sliding her fingers along the banister. She realizes that isolating herself in her room isn't healthy in the slightest, and that she really should make the effort to socialize, so here she is.

Unfortunately for her, her gaze first takes in Hannibal on the sofa, which forces her to pause. She looks away, briefly considering running back up the stairs, but realizes viciously that she shouldn't allow him to chase her out of a second life of sorts, like he did the first one.

Still, she appears to be stuck.

[cook_the_rude]

As if he'd sensed her presence by some sort of seventh sense, Hannibal lowers his book and smiles at Alana hesitating on the chairs.

[patterns_bloom]

Alana sucks a cold breath over her teeth. Her fingers tighten on the banister, and she offers him a curt nod. "Dr. Lecter."

[cook_the_rude]

"Hello, Alana," he says, smiling at her.

He sits up, swings his feet to the ground, and puts the book aside.

"Why so formal?"

[patterns_bloom]

"Why do you think?" Alana says, tension radiating from her stiff shoulders. "I'm trying to maintain distance between us for the sake of my own mental health, and reconcile the person I once knew with the person who tries to kill me."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan is sitting by the fire, cross-legged on the floor rather than in a chair, intently focused on his bear carving.

He's determined not to make any irreparable mistakes on this.

[witchfinder_general]

"Good evening, Brother Athelstan," Father Harman says, looking up from his bible and his index cards full of notes in a tiny handwriting.

"What are you making?"

[athelstanthescribe]

"A polar bear", he says, looking up with a bright smile. "For a child to be."

[witchfinder_general]

"Of your Viking friends?" Father Harman asks. "So Ragnar won his duel?"

[street_sparrow]

Gavroche is about, as usual, this time sprawled comfortably in a heap at the foot of one of the chairs with his dogs.

[ostro_goth]

Teja's cats always used to get on well with Franz while their humans were ever at odds; so Kitty gets up from where she's been dozing by the fire, stretches, and then saunters over towards Gavroche and the dogs.

[street_sparrow]

The dogs react differently - Jo' raises his head on a kind of friendly alert, while Franz just thumps his tail on the floor.

Or possibly on Gavroche's leg. That's OK, he's used to the bruises.

[ostro_goth]

Kitty approaches, tail alertly up in the air, to softly bump heads with Franz.

[fry_sandhu]

Fry is near Teja, with a large jar with a wire around it and a couple of holes in the top. Inside the jar is a very strange looking bug, only about an inch long, but blue with purple spots and big googly eyes.

He's been making the little critter's jar a bit more friendly by putting in bits of leaves and twigs and a small model of a toilet he borrowed from Coral.

Currently he's trying to identify it in a bug book.

[ostro_goth]

"Greetings, Fry," Teja says, looking up from his guitar while still playing.

Egil is cuddled up on a long-haired rug, hugging his stuffed pirate monkey, and snoring very softly; he doesn't mind people talking around him.

"That is a colourful beetle indeed. One would have thought it is somewhat too cold for them."

[fry_sandhu]

"It was shaking, so I put it in the jar to keep it warm." Fry says.

"What kind of bug is it?"

[ostro_goth]

"I know not," Teja says, peering at it more closely and putting down his guitar to do so. "I have never seen one such."

Egil stirs in his sleep, robbed of his music.

[lt_blade]

Sonya heads over to the fire with a ball of dark red yarn and some needles. Her work for the day's done, but even as she's tired, she can't sleep. Someone a long while ago taught her how to knit and while her skills were rusty, she needed something to do with her hands. Maybe she should've gotten a book like Madame Thenardier, but she can't bring herself to be in the mood for any sort of subject, let alone have focus to decide.

She took a seat on the sofa, close by the fire and started working, trying to recall how to hook the thread. It was entirely possible she was making a mess of it, but the point was giving her something to focus on.

[cook_the_rude]

"Hello, Sonya," Dr. Lecter says, after a while, looking at her over the edge of his book. "What are you making?"

[lt_blade]

"At wad of yarn." She'd been trained in everything from how to fix a patch to making explosives out of a coffee can, but knitting was out of her range.

She looked over her work (or lack thereof) to read the cover of the boom he was reading. "Demonology?"

Probably a more productive way to spend an evening then what she was doing. Maybe that's why she was bound at the moment: Bar wanted her to learn about demons? But did Outworld demons even count?

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Dr. Lecter says. "Apparently they're a thing that exists here."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

Bossuet is busing tables, humming cheerfully to himself as he rounds up plates and forks and knives and glasses. He's not tempting fate today--no alarming tower of soupbowls, no gravity-defying arrangement of dirty stemware--but he's probably vulnerable to surprise.

((Damn, I couldn't choose! If any of your folks wants him, he's up for grabs.))

[ostro_goth]

"Be careful not to stumble over one of the cats," Teja remarks. "They do sometimes make people trip over them, especially if they hope for food to fall."

[tire_moi_mes_bottes]

"Ah yes." He adjusts his hold on the tray so that he can peer down at his feet as he walks. "Cunning creatures--but you'd be sorry, my dears, if you got yourself a pile of broken glass."

[ostro_goth]

"Without the slightest shred of food left upon it?" Teja asks, smiling. "They would be peeved, indeed."

Myrrh is already getting up, stretches, and then wanders casually in Lesgle's direction.