sadfreezingbrit_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sadfreezingbrit_archive) wrote2011-07-23 08:37 pm
sadfreezingbrit_archive) wrote2011-07-23 08:37 pm
one attempt at one-eyed brunch [21/??? artefacts collected]
[ It's been almost a week since ex-mafia!Philip had a very unfortunate event run-in with still-mafia!Dean. The result? His previous Wonderland lives are still intact, but he's down one eye and his arm isn't doing so well either. And that's the understatement of the day.
So. It's been almost a week. Hardly enough time to heal all wounds (or any of them for that matter), but time enough for Philip to get over the worst and out of his room. Or try to, in any case.
Right now (now being 11 in the morning) he's standing in the kitchen, arduously slaving over his attempt at late breakfast. The injury to his right shoulder is difficult to hide, what with his arm in a sling. But at least his left eye (or lack thereof) is cleverly concealed behind a pair of sunglasses.
To reiterate: Kitchen. Breakfast. 11 o'clock. Right arm in sling.Ridiculous Fashionable sunglasses. Shattered glass.
...Shattered glass? ]
Jesus, not again.
[ Stepping aside Philip looks at the mess. After six days improvements are coming along at last, but missteps (or misgrabs, as it were) still happen all too often. Oh depth perception, he never knew how much he loved you until you were gone.
And yet the milk keeps dripping on the floor; cold, cruel and undeterred by his struggles and frustrations.
To continue: Paper towels. Broom. Scoop. New try. Deep sigh. ]
So. It's been almost a week. Hardly enough time to heal all wounds (or any of them for that matter), but time enough for Philip to get over the worst and out of his room. Or try to, in any case.
Right now (now being 11 in the morning) he's standing in the kitchen, arduously slaving over his attempt at late breakfast. The injury to his right shoulder is difficult to hide, what with his arm in a sling. But at least his left eye (or lack thereof) is cleverly concealed behind a pair of sunglasses.
To reiterate: Kitchen. Breakfast. 11 o'clock. Right arm in sling.
...Shattered glass? ]
Jesus, not again.
[ Stepping aside Philip looks at the mess. After six days improvements are coming along at last, but missteps (or misgrabs, as it were) still happen all too often. Oh depth perception, he never knew how much he loved you until you were gone.
And yet the milk keeps dripping on the floor; cold, cruel and undeterred by his struggles and frustrations.
To continue: Paper towels. Broom. Scoop. New try. Deep sigh. ]
no subject
From what Evelyn has gathered so far, dealing with Sherlock Holmes requires the patience of a saint. One must offer equal parts of humouring the man, and calling him out.]
I don't think you'd like him very much. It's nothing short of a miracle he survived so long without the assistance of Watson.
[She smiles crookedly.]
I think he's constructed of pure, unadulterated condescension.
[Evelyn is used to that, though. Working in a male-dominated profession does tend to desensitise one to heaping mounds of bullshit.]
no subject
I find that incredibly easy to believe.
[ Cleaning the last bits of egg off the plate with toast and... ]
Say, um...
[ ...flushing the last crumbs toast down with coffee. ]
Did you- did you find a room yet? Is it working? I assume they all are, but with Wonderland you never know.
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[Although it was quite an adventure getting there. She's never felt particularly comfortable on the ground floor for some reason, and anything higher than three felt like far too much effort to walk. Besides, the library is attached. What more could she possibly want?]
Room ten on the second floor. Right down the hall from Mister Condescension, as a matter of fact.
[She has yet to meet all her neighbours, but isn't particularly worried about it. There's no telling how long she'll be stuck here - plenty of time to introduce herself later.]
I had to get away from frequenting the Dining Hall. It's far too convenient, and I missed using a little elbow grease to enjoy a meal.
[No matter how good the Mansion's coffee is, she'd much rather stick to something that takes time. Instant gratification makes her uneasy. Swirling her beverage, Evie stares down into the cup and thinks for a moment before glancing back up.]
Is the world you come from like this? Supernatural? Or is it- I hate to resort to the word "normal", but...magic and science don't exactly agree, and Physics has to fit in there somewhere.
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But this Philip, the one tapping the table with his finger now, has no idea how to answer that question, especially not without giving away what he'd rather keep to himself. ]
It's certainly nothing like this.
[ At least that much he can reassure, if only for the sake of stalling for time. ]
Although... in a way magic and science are closer linked than we'd sometimes like to believe, at least-- What I mean is that mankind has... always had a tendency to label things we can't comprehend as magic, meaning- [ He clears his throat. ] -meaning the magic of today might very well be the science of tomorrow.
[ Disregarding how that answer answers about 0% of Evelyn's question it has actually been part of a line of thought Philip used to lessen the stress in his distressing situation. Perhaps not enough to help him sleep soundly at night, but hey, that's what the Ambien is for. ]
...We do have excellent departments for research in Physics however, whereas you'll have trouble finding any magical faculties without opening a book in the fiction section.
no subject
For Heaven's sake, people in the ancient Egypt believed that sapphires protected one from scorpion bites, and that the gods controlled the flooding of the river. There was still some manner of give and take.
Here, everything is just take. The closets, the kitchen, the library, the dining hall. Even the Mansion itself, if what other people have said about stolen memories is true.]
I see.
[Evelyn drums her fingers against her coffee mug. The worlds are similar enough. Jules Verne and Arthur Conan Doyle. More than one worldwide war, apparently. That sort of thing is discouraging about the coming years.
She prefers looking back. The past wasn't simpler, but it was more predictable. Asking a generalized "what's the future like" question might be too much, and there's no telling all the things that have happened in the past (almost) century.
And as exciting as all of this is, Mansion and everything, Evelyn isn't meant to stay indoors and read all of the time.]
Do you miss it?
[Wait, back up, rewind, addendum:]
I mean...home. Teaching Physics. [A weak smile.] The pervading dampness of London.
no subject
It's not even a big lie, in fact it's not even a lie at all. Some omission perhaps, but that hardly means the issue isn't relevant, certainly doesn't speak against answering, just because... just because he knows he won't get back.
After an all too persistent moment of silence he finally nods without a word. ]
no subject
She said the wrong thing.
Whatever it is, it appears to be a subject that Philip would rather not touch at all - even with a thirty-nine and a half-foot pole.]
I'm sorry, I-
[Ohhh, guilt. When was the last time she felt guilty about something? Aside from telling Mr. O'Connell what a ruffian he is; she feels a little bad about that.
But he's still a complete scoundrel.]
-I shouldn't have said anything.
no subject
It's just that it's been so long since he's met somebody he could talk to who also seemed normal and... and most importantly thought he was normal... or as close as it gets to that in Wonderland.
And he just doesn't want to mess up that last part. ]
No, it's... don't worry about it. I've been here long enough, I really shouldn't-- I do miss England, it's just... sometimes I even doubt I'll ever see it again.
[ Cue as much of a smile as he can manage. ]
...I'm sorry, I killed the mood again.
{ Hey, as long as it's just the mood. }
no subject
[If she was hurting that badly, it would be just as difficult to stay positive. Venturing out into the public would be the furthest from her mind.]
You should rest, [Evelyn suggests, because saying the obvious is totally a good idea.] If you want help, I'd be more than happy to assist. Not-
[Her hand goes up to silence him. Men have that pride thing, don't they?]
-That you'll need it, but if you do then I can say that I've become quite proficient at using the video transmitting device, and it would be no trouble at all.
no subject
I should... probably do that.
[ It is indeed said in the near-chocked voice of somebody needing to swallow his pride before replying.
But it's not accepting help that gives Philip trouble, it's knowing that he's manoeuvred himself into a situation where he needs it... again. He's starting to believe that there are clichéd damsels who are less likely to attract and more likely to evade distress than him.
...That and the fact that Philip was hoping that he'd managed to make himself look better than he feels. Perhaps that holds true still, but apparently he must seem worse for wear after all. ]
And I... really appreciate the offer.
[ He stands up. ]
Thank you.
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[No, really. Philip has gone above and beyond the call of duty concerning damsels in distress, simply by assisting her and showing her what's what.
Evelyn doesn't get up, but she does look after him pointedly.]
With all of the others here, losing touch seems like it could happen often. Don't be a stranger?
[She smiles hopefully.]
no subject
[ Philip smiles-- Well, he smiles. Any keen observer of his usual facial expressions will find that extraordinary enough. ]
I'll see you around.
[ And then he turns to- almost walk into the doorframe, because it managed to be closer than he thought.
But after that he simply turns to leave. ]
no subject
She really needs to learn how to keep her curiosity in check.]