(no subject)

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[Delia is in the bar, curled up in her booth and reading 'the Prince', still]

[jeans, black jumper, hair out, she doesn't look like a lady at all.]

[well, that's good.]

[ooc: Will be back in an hour an a half, or so Back]

Comments

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

Delia.

*He crawls into the booth with her.* Hi.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[she peers over her book at him]

Hi.

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

Just hi?

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

Good evening, salutations, and a very merry midwinter's eve.

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

. . . that'll do nicely. OK.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[she closes the book, tilts her head]

And for all that I get just ok? Really...

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

Why, whaddya want?

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

Dancing lessons.

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*raises an eyebrow* No go. You don't want me stepping on your feet anyway . . .

Although on second thought that does sound rather appealing.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[she sniffs]

Not from you, idiot. You are a worse dancer then your sister.

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*Ordinarily, Thom would snicker at that and say it's quite the accomplishment.

But he looks at Delia instead and* That's not funny, Dell.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[softly] Why not?

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

. . . she's not here to defend herself.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

Oh?

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*harshly* Oh.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

Thommy, where has your sister gone now?

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

She's on a ship with a man who wears too much makeup. Eating apples.

It's not anywhere we know.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[she's too tired to laugh, so she just rubs her head]

Friend?

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

I . . .

*Thom thinks, biting his lip.* I saw him . . . once, a long time ago . . .

I don't know.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[quietly] So that's what you were doing last night, trying to find her?

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*Thom glances up sharply.* -- you saw . . . ?

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

You. With a mirror. And a red-haired man cutting your arm. Then I left.

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*reddens and looks away* . . . oh.

[eldorne-girl.livejournal.com]

[mimics] oh.

[giftedthom.livejournal.com]

*He sighs, running a hand through his hair.* I can't tell if you're lying.