heorte: (Default)
ellis ginsberg. ([personal profile] heorte) wrote2019-09-10 03:02 pm
heirring: ([038])

[personal profile] heirring 2020-11-18 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
She should almost certainly have something to say in reply to the second point - 'Yes, Mr. Ellis. It is perfectly safe and I will take great care to be mindful of not touching the poisonous fungi and then my face;' 'Yes, of course Mr. Ellis. I will practice every precaution, and Madame Smythe is quite accomplished. I have no doubt that as a senior alchemist she will be the very picture of caution' -, but nothing rises readily.

For she is trapped in the moment prior, the one in which she is terribly clever, and the warmth which blooms in her chest on account of it is such a real thing that she can feel it hot in her cheeks and prickling behind her eyes.

She laughs. It's a cursory 'ha ha' designed for sweeping away a series of more ridiculous sentiments and to leave behind room for only smug self satisfaction.

"Yes, yes," she declares. "I'm quite aware."
heirring: (rather clever)

[personal profile] heirring 2020-11-18 06:08 am (UTC)(link)
"The ferry would be quite sufficient, I think."

She fusses briefly with the collar of the embroidered bright red half cape and how it lies about her shoulders and then, kicking out her boots, springs decisively up onto her feet. Her skirts and trailing edge of the cape have collected a prodigious amount of hay, which she knocks (or irritably picks) briskly free before offering her crooked elbow to him.

"Shall we, Mr. Ellis?"