Appointments Post

[sooochangeable]

Appointments and messages for Luceti. Please title, tag, and date appropriately.

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[action, morning, March 19]

[theoniongirl]

[the rain, steady and renewing over the past few days, had turned into a downpour. For once, Jilly was actually attempting to keep the worst of it off of her as she made her way to her studio. She didn't have an umbrella, but she'd finally turned up the hood of her jacket so that it covered most of her curls, and her hands were shoved into her pockets. And she wasn't really looking at everything around her. The rain was coming down thick enough that it obscured the landscape, veiling everything in shades of grey]

[action, morning, March 19]

[sooochangeable]

[Of course it was bloody raining when he arrived. Like anything else could possibly go wrong.

But then doesn't something else always go wrong?

Like the tiny little detail that James has nowhere to stay, has no idea where to find a place or how to pay for it. He hasn't exactly be introduced to the concept that any free room is his to take. So he's just been wandering - first in an attempt to make himself scarce from the scene of his arrival; second - to get a feel of where he was. And he was very much put off by it.

He'd still maintain the sad little persona of a beaten man, the stitches on his forehead would only arouse the wrong kind of curiosity if he didn't use them upfront.

James had ducked under an awning, with the way the rain was coming down he didn't want to be wet and hurt at the same time if he could avoid it. He'd gotten ahold of an over-sized shirt to wear but he still donned his 'new arrival' trousers. Under the very big woolly sweater were his wings - two black, little pathetic things that had failed to move an inch since he arrived.

Jilly was the first person who had happened past him in over thirty minutes and he wasn't going to pass that up.

He cleared his throat, the sound drowned out from the noise of the rain but - thought that counted. He didn't even have to try to look pathetic.]

Excuse me, miss?

[action]

[theoniongirl]

[she hears the words, even if she doesn't hear the soft sound before them, and she looked up, shielding her gaze with one hand.

Her eyes widened just slightly when they landed on the wounded man, darting from his hangdog expression to the stitches and the tell-tale remnants of new-feather clothing. There was a terrible bruise forming on his jaw, cuts and abrasions from a recent fist fight...and bruises in the shape of fingers at his throat.

She wasn't a doctor, but she'd seen enough of this on the street to guess at what had happened to him...and not that long ago. Everything about this was fresh.]

Oh-

Oh god. Are you alright? [it was a ridiculous question, really. He obviously wasn't. But where her initial words failed her, her body language didn't. In an instant, everything about her stance changed.

Her hands went wide and open at her sides, fully visible. Her shoulders relaxed and--after the initial shock--her blue eyes settled on his. Everything about her diminished what little threat she might have been...not that she'd really have posed much of one, being barely over 5'0".]

What happened?

[action]

[sooochangeable]

[James - under the persona - staves off a laugh that sounds partially like a cry. Breathless in a sense.

Ahh - no, m'not alright. [Obviously. Understatement of the year. Reflexive to the perpetual itch of fresh stitches, James scratches at the area of his hairline close to the sutures and withdrawals the finger instantly. Chiding himself internally.]

I just...I dunno. I was home one moment - [On a rooftop, sticking a gun in his mouth, forcing a man to kill himself. Home sweet home.] - and then I woke up here in the clinic and there was this absolute madman in the room with me and he just... [He takes a quick breath, shuddering. He manages a pained smile.]

He just started attacking me!

[action]

[theoniongirl]

[that staves of her next reaction, which was to suggest the clinic. Times like these really made her miss Len more than ever.

Her voice is soft, worry marring her features.] I'm so sorry...

[if it occurs to her to ask why he was attacked, she doesn't do it. She knows too well how it feels to be blamed when you're the victim of a crime.

Father forgive me, for I have sinned. I made my brother...

She doesn't reach for him, either. Having just been attacked, that's probably the last thing he wants. Instead, she forces the tiniest of smiles, tilting her head back in the direction she'd come] Do you want to get out of the rain? There's food and drink just a little further in the village. [and there'd be a chance to see how bad his injuries really were]

[action]

[sooochangeable]

[James might stand a good eight inches taller than her but he manages to make himself look unbelievably small; shoulders hunched in and head bowed while his frame drowned in fabric.

He looked as if he was just barely keeping himself from letting any tears loose. And really, who could blame him? He'd just woken up in a strange place with wings and had someone nearly beat him to death. Any normal person would be upset.]

Please? [He looked hopeful for a moment. That someone might actually be able to help him.]

That'd be nice.


I don't exactly know where to go.

[Action, Evening, March 19]

[fleurdesel]

[It doesn't take long for Adele to find a small container of lanacane and a warm compresses for James' neck. She still...didn't know what it was she'd stepped into, but he was her patient, and it would never be said of her that she did not treat her patients well. Bag in hand, she knocks on the door of room six and takes a step back. Just in case.]

[Action, Evening, March 19]

[sooochangeable]

[If it was at all possible for a door to open meekly, it did just now. James is on the other end, still with that sad little smile and shoulders that curl forward.]

Hi. Come on in. Kettle's just boiled if you want something...

[The place is standard. Like every other house in the building. He has groceries courtesy of Jilly and that's it.]

[Action, Evening, March 19]

[fleurdesel]

It is appreciated, but unwarranted, James. I should not be here long.

[Just long enough to check his stitches, give him the cream, and make sure the bruising is healing as it ought to. Not terribly long at all. Her voice was brisk, but not unkind, and she stepped in with a sideways glance at him. Nothing familiar, and nothing to worry about. James was just another confused individual pulled to Luceti.]

[Action, Evening, March 19]

[sooochangeable]

[He looks a little crestfallen, like he'd started preparing tea just for her. But he smiles, he does smile. Wide enough to be in the realm of happy.]

No problem.

[James sits in a chair that looks to be in use at the table in the kitchen. Placid patient awaiting the surgeon.]

[Action, Evening, March 19]

[fleurdesel]

[Six older sisters, one younger brother, numerous nieces. Puppy eye'd pleading and soft disappointment would not move her. Not this time, at least. She sets her bag just inside the door and carries the compress and ointment over to James, looking him over.]

Have you had any difficulty sleeping?

[Speaking as she works, slim fingers unscrewing the top of the cream and pulling out a little dollop; her other hand brushing his hair back and out of the way. Adele's face is blank, her tone brusque, but her hands are gentle.]

[Action, Evening, March 19]

[sooochangeable]

[Curses.]

No more than usual.

[Which is true, James Moriarty has terrible luck with sleep and generally grabs a few hours when he feels the need to. It's not a compulsion. James is - like Adele - blank face as she administers the cream to his forehead.]

[Action, Noon (29th), Barracks.]

[sooochangeable]

[ooc: continued from here!]

[It's noon. And he's just at the barracks. And he's the only one there. Quiet, unassuming, sitting and munching on an apple. How funny. Most people won't get the joke though. Not with how James is acting now, not with how he's dressed.

He misses his fine suits and trinkets. And playthings. He misses his bodyguard too. We'll just have to see about rectifying that. He begins to hum something...nursery rhyme-esque.

The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck Twelve.]

Re: [Action, Noon (29th), Barracks.]

[deadlyjuliet]

[The mouse ran down.

Or really, the cat watched from above. Grell arrived at noon as scheduled, but not in the way most would expect. Using trees and buildings, she lands on the rooftop and makes her way to the edge, looking down to see who is waiting for her.

Oh, hello there.]

Tick tock tick tock.

[Action, Noon (29th), Barracks.]

[sooochangeable]

[His head tilts up and his neck aches for it. The bruises he won from Sherlock, the cut on his forehead too are still healing. He's no superhuman...but he's not normal. James Moriarty is a stranger breed.

James gives a faint whistle, and it's clear some of the facade of an innocent isn't being bothered with. Some. Of. The wall will be replaced with his usual when he deems it appropriate, but he likes Grell already. She's interesting - something he's never encountered before, and therefore strange and new and wonderful and exciting.

You'd do anything to stop from being bored.]

Has Christmas come early?

[He grins as he says it, showing all his pearly whites.]

[Action, Noon (29th), Barracks.]

[deadlyjuliet]

Only if someone has been good this year.

[There it is. The smile, the strangeness, the loss of that pretty facade that shows something so much more intriguing underneath. Grell takes a few steps along the edge of the building as she studies him. James. James James James... Such an enigma. So...interesting.

She steps off the roof then and drops to the ground, landing lightly on her feet.]

Have you been?

[Action, Noon (29th), Barracks.]

[sooochangeable]

Actually--

[He chuckles a little as Grell jumps down, completely fine. No broken bones or shattered shins - right as rain. James sunk his teeth into the red skin and flesh of the apple, crunching the fruit between his molars. Yummy.]

I don't expect much else than coal this year.

[Action, Noon (29th), Barracks.]

[deadlyjuliet]

Tsk tsk, what have you done to deserve coal so early in the year?

[She turns, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a wide grin.]

Or it is things that you shall do that earn you such a prize?

June 6 | Early Evening | Action

[theoniongirl]

[about the time that the sun is beginning to set, Jilly can be found sitting on the steps outside of Community Building 7. The artist's arms are crossed over the tops of her bent knees while she watches people walking by, looking for a familiar face. The journal sits open on the step beside her, something to listen to while she waits]

[sooochangeable]

[Walking up to the front steps of his new home, Jilly might not think James to be in too good of a mood. With the scowl on his face and the forward posture he has; he seems irritated to say the least.

But that all changes in an instant when he sees Miss Jilly.]

Hey!

[theoniongirl]

[she notices the shift, and the smile she gives him is tinged with concern] Hey.

It's been awhile. I thought I'd come by and say hi... I hope you don't mind?

[true enough. The threat of Drusilla had kept her inside more often than not, rather than working on her star map, and she hadn't come around during that week at all]

[sooochangeable]

Not at all! Let's go in, I'm freezing. [He smiles lamely and shuffles into the building before her, shifting his hands against one another either out of nerves or out of honest cold.]

I haven't seen you for a bit, I was starting to wonder if you were alright.

[theoniongirl]

[she doesn't crowd him, but she follows him when he heads inside.]

I am. I'm good actually. Just a bit busier than usual, with the shift and all. But I was wondering how you were doing?

[not exactly what she'd come by to discuss, but it was as good a place to start as any]

[sooochangeable]

Fine as I can be.

...But I get the feeling you're not here to discuss the weather and everyone's health.

written, 8/10, 2 PM

[notquiteheartless]

2-21. Tonight. 9 PM.