#a_room_at_firnost

"It can be resisted, of course, one does not lose free will. Merely....the eyne one looks through, has a new lens to see by. A paintbrush, Lady....not a hammer."

He may wonder if she fell asleep, or vanished, so silent is the pooka, her breath not even making a sound. Finally, a faint, shallow exhalation, and the sound of a hand scratching at an ear. A low remark. "I'll take the goddamned hammer."

"A hammer would leave thee, without the will to refuse." (Mildly) "Is that better?"

"No, to the fucking temples!" She snaps, the butt of her palm making an audible sound as she smacks it into her forehead in emphasis. "Jesus, fuck." The scrape of her chair being pushes back, and she paces over, and back, and over. "I need... where's the window? I need some air."

(He recoils, and draws in, remaining silent while she searches for a window that may or may not be there)

No window - or at least, no sound of a shutter being drawn, or creak of frame being hauled upwards. Instead, the sound of a soft thump, leaning against the wall, and sliding down to sit on the floor. Another minute passes, and a few more, before her voice, measured and low once more, comes over. "Sorry, I got distracted. Thinking about Judge Judy this morning. Where were we? Yeah. Make your cocktails, what she wants. Sounds good."

"Ah....art thou staying, the eve....?" (He sounds.....uncertain, now)

A moment, before she snorts, and responds in a matter-of-fact statement. "Leave? And leave you to the tender mercy of the lushes below? Like hell I'm leaving." A pause, and she adds, in a quieter tone. "You had your chance to get rid of me, a few years back. Now you're stuck, so you'd better just deal with it."

"I mind not." (A hesitant half-smile, remembering the mushrooms, again. They have half-spilled; his recoil jarred them, and he finds them with slow sweeps of his hand. He doesn't mind lint; the ones not returned to the bowl end up in his mouth)

"Has it e'er....occurr'ed to thee, Milady...." (Slowly. Then he pauses, and shakes head slightly, murmuring) "Not now, nay."

"So, we get something to low-ball them with, a few things to sweeten the deal, and a gift to pave the way when we show up." She continues the previous conversation, as if it hadn't been interrupted. "I can't say I'd be on my best behaviour, you've seen that and it doesn't cut it. But I'll be on someone ELSE'S best behaviour when we go in, just as meek as a church mouse, that's me."

"Should I wait upon the trod?"

A blink. "I thought you'd do the talking."

"She's your friend, after all."

(A murmur) "She would react better....to thee. I know not....how well, I would...."

"Ah."

Tapping of fingers rolled on the floor, clicking of nails rhythmic on hardwood. "I can do it, if you want me to carry the message. Sounds better that way, nowwat I think of it."

A faint grin that can just be detected in her tone. "S'long as you trust me not to piddle on her floor or moon the high court, per usual."

"Dost thou do so, I am certain she would find it as charming, as I would." (Deadpanning, around a mushroom)

A snort. "That bad, eh? Well, you know what they say about beggars and choosers."

(A hesitation) "I shall wait for thy word, to come in."

"I can send Mort back, if Doc wants to continue the loan for a bit?"

"Aye, Lady. A very good idea."

(He is growing even more slow as the conversation continues. His gumming is absent, and he seems almost....sleepy? She is getting to where she can read him quite well; he is never without his Valium, and his last dose is getting in full swing)

She moves over and picks up his pillow, peering beneath it. Dropping it back down, she drops to the floor next, peering under the bed. While down there, she glances critically around the room, then announces. "Get some sleep, I'mma stay up a bit. Sometimes that pizza'll turn on me, y'know." A small belch for emphasis.

"I can stay beneath the bed, dost thou wish to sleep upon it. Upon mine honour," (A murmur) "I shall be a gentleman." (He fumbles the bowl back onto the nightstand)

"Nah, you take the bed, it's your room. I'll curl up in a shoe if I get the Z's real bad. Cozier that way, and the fumes keep me from dozing too deep."

(He nods, then, and slides down into the blankets, slowly. Moving with care, and curling up on his side, to drift into a fitful doze) (GoNe for now)