inanhour: (wait)
[personal profile] inanhour
The boy -- man? who walks into Milliways is mostly stable on his feet, but doesn't look very well.

His brow furrows, and he unconsciously reaches up to touch it. It is not damp with fever-sweat, at least.

"... There were not so few steps between my bed and an inn." Unless he forgot them?

Maybe he forgot them.

Date: 2015-07-25 07:28 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
Arabella isn't a mother, but she plainly has all the necessary instincts, if one judges by the expression on her face and the speed with which she swoops to the boy's side.

"Good day, sir," she says gently. Her early 19th century dress surely looks almost ridiculously plain to 17th century eyes, but it's certainly within the bounds of modesty, and not entirely outlandish. "You'll forgive my bad manners, I hope, but you'll soon find none in this place stand on ceremony-- and young man, you do not look well."

Date: 2015-07-26 02:04 am (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"A month!" Well, that's that. Hang manners: she takes hold of his arm and begins to steer him gently towards a chair. "Please, do sit, you look ready to swoon. I know no gentleman can stand to hear such a thing, and once you are seated you may protest as you please that you are in perfect health-- but first sit, sit."

Date: 2015-07-26 10:23 am (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
Arabella laughs. "It is a pleasure, Master Roderigo. I am Arabella Strange, and really, I cannot think such a small kindness is worth much thanks. Let me do you a greater one first, to really earn them. Please, would you like some tea? Perhaps a touch of brandy?"

Date: 2015-07-26 04:48 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"Stay here. Sit," Arabella says, because she already suspects he is the type of boy who needs such reminders.

Summoning a waitrat seems like it might be a bit much right off the bat, in his condition, so she fetches the little snifter of brandy herself, which Bar kindly pairs with a plate of fluffy-looking rolls. She sets them down before him and then takes the seat opposite.

"There, then," she says. "Who on earth let you out of bed in the first place?"

(Shipwreck suggests that he's-- well, human, and he certainly looks it, though of course she doesn't consider herself nearly enough of an expert to be sure. Maybe he's of some breed of fairy that restores itself by walking around?)

Date: 2015-07-26 08:55 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"Well, you would hardly be a young man if you did not refuse to keep to your bed, no matter how much good it might do you," Arabella says with a smile. "But you cannot mean to say you have been entirely unattended in your illness?"

Date: 2015-07-26 09:03 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"Then you were fortunate twice over, it seems-- in your escape, and in being rescued by someone so generous. Though of course, I would like to hope that no one, in your friend's position, would do any less."

Date: 2015-07-26 09:32 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"Forgive me," she says gently. "I know nothing about it, I will speak of it no further.'

Arabella picks up a roll, less because she actually wants one than because it seems rather odd to just sit here and watch the poor boy eat.

"I am quite newly come here myself," she says. "But I have found it agreeable so far. A change of scenery can make all the difference in the world, don't you find?"

Date: 2015-07-26 09:57 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"I am from England," she says. "But I think you will find this place cares very little for the logic of time or place. I English, you from-- Illyria, you say? But no more than a door separating any one of us from where we came from."

Her tone is light and conversational, and she places her handkerchief on the table in front of him with such careless ease, one might almost think it was an accident, or just a coincidence that she happened to set it there.

Date: 2015-07-26 10:13 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"I lived some years in London," she says. "Though I was born in Shropshire."

Date: 2015-07-26 10:19 pm (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
Arabella leaves the handkerchief there, just in case.

"Oh, I would not expect you to! I think most Englishmen hardly know where it is, much less know anything about it."

She looks at him for a moment, then says, "I don't doubt you are weary, sir. And this place is surely odd." She knows she'd be far less sanguine if she hadn't come from a place much, much odder. "If you wish to be left to your own thoughts, I hope you won't hesitate to say so."

Date: 2015-07-27 09:27 am (UTC)
astrangebell: from a portrait by Sir Henry Raeburn (Default)
From: [personal profile] astrangebell
"There is all the the time in the world here, you may know that first," Arabella says. She draws her chair in a little closer, not because she needs to necessarily, but to let him see she's perfectly content to settle in to stay as long as he likes. "When you return to Illyria, you will find no time has passed at all. Though no one has said so, it is my guess that-- well, you have heard fairy tales, haven't you? Where men and women wander away into fairy lands and return and find that a hundred years have passed at home? It is my belief this place is something like that, only... well, the reverse, I suppose."

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Roderigo (Sebastian)

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