elnysa | video | un: c.fraser

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video | un: c.fraser

[Here is one disgruntled English lady. You might have seen various shades of this annoyance after the pods plummeted to the earth, checking for injuries (maybe on you, personally), or more recently at the Sanctuary collecting blood. Apparently, the latter is why she's deemed it necessary to post.]

Thought I'd drop a quick word, given some of my experiences since we've all come together.

Now, I understand we all come from various worlds and times, with vastly differentiating forms of medicine, but I'm sure it's safe to say that bloodletting is not the preffered sort of medicine people want here. I don't care if someone here handed you a knife, of if that's what you're used to doing. That is not how you collect blood. You use a needle, and hopefully it's held by someone that knows how to find a vein. If you'd like to learn, I'd be happy to teach you.

Secondly? Your blood, assuming you're... human, or what the biologically average human is, is going to be used by anyone who needs it, rich or poor. The blood of a king is not going to make a beggar on the street suddenly somehow contend for a throne that doesn't even bloody exist in this world.

[There's a pause in which she almost calls a certain someone named Richard out, but she's a better woman than that. Just barely.

There's a flicker of a forced smile.]

Thank you.

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[Well, that leaves one other culprit.]

I'll ask Steve. It's... peculiar. Pink, or red. It wasn't there when we went to sleep, I don't think.

Bit late in the year for Easter eggs.

[ ... pause. ]

What if it isn't Steve's? Did you just leave it there?

If it isn't Steve's, we have a bigger pest problem than we could imagine.

[They've all seen the occasional bug skitter across the floor in the mornings.]

No, I... set it by the windowsill. In the sun. [Oops.] There was a certain heft to it, almost like...

[There might be something already growing inside.]

I don't know. Maybe I'm losing my mind.

A thought that crosses mine every other day since waking up here.

[ She huffs out a breath, frowning at nothing in particular as she makes her rounds and thinks. ]

Do you — er — intend to... hatch it?

[Curiosity killed the cat. This is what happens when you're raised by a scholar.]

Aren't you curious? If the thing can even be hatched. If it begins to reek, I'll toss it.

[She taps her arm.]

And if it's a snake or vermin of some sort, we have a hefty frying pan.

[ A sigh, ]

And my gun, come to that. But I'd rather not.

[ Does her roommate even know she has a weapon? Well, now she does. Peggy wets her lips, smiles with a sort of wryness Claire can't see but she's sure she can hear. ]

I admit I am rather curious about our mystery egg. [ Teasing, ] But whatever comes out of it is your responsibility, Mrs Fraser. Finders keepers.

Gun?

[Nope, didn't know. Knows now. Claire makes a huh sort of sound. A gun totting agent and--whatever Steve is. Muscular. No need to worry about someone breaking in during the wee hours of the morning.

Or things hatching out of eggs.]

If it's interesting, I suppose it can always be donated.

[No. No, Claire. You say this, but it's going to be pathetically cute and yours.]

Yes, gun. Only a small one.

[ Well, whoops. But it's no surprise she's more than capable so a gun really isn't too unusual. She thinks. ]

What do you think it could be?

Edited 2017-09-01 05:44 (UTC)

You've had that all along?

[So, no surprise it'd be a smaller one. She's lived around people that carry swords and daggers at their hips for too long to be overly fussed.]

I have no clue, really. I don't think it's a reptilian egg, though I'm no expert on the subject matter. Just a feeling. A bird, perhaps?

[Wrong.]

Well... yes. I didn't think it was relevant to mention, really.

[ She pauses. ]

And for what it's worth, I'd rather a bird than a reptile. Unless it's a flamingo. They're not the most polite of creatures.

[ She speaks from personal experience. ]

Suppose it's always good to be prepared.

[God knows what could happen here. There's a silent shrug.]

... I can't say I've spent enough time in the company of a flamingo to know whether they're polite or not.

Oddly enough, I can say with absolute confidence that I've spent some time with a flamingo named Bernard.

[ Mr Jarvis had dubbed it "The Devil in Pink." He wasn't wrong. ]

But even if the egg is flamingo-coloured, I doubt that's what's inside. I suppose the more pressing question is how did it get there in the first place? Our apartment isn't exactly the penthouse suite. If someone snuck in, one of us would notice.

Dare I ask for the story behind that?

[... why, Peggy. Why.]

I don't know. The bloody floorboards creak enough to alert us to anyone trying to sneak about. Unless it was there earlier, and neither of us noticed it? I can't explain it.

It isn't much of a story. A friend of mine was curating a menagerie and there happened to be an ill-tempered flamingo named Bernard amongst its residents.

[ To say nothing of the koala that required a tranquiliser gun. ]

I think we'd have noticed an egg like that... Well, whatever the case, it's done now. We'll check the locks at night and hopefully no more unexpected gifts turn up.

[ She's definitely going to inspect that egg, though. She's investigating a rogue bomber on the order of the Guard, after all. Can't be too careful. ]

Edited 2017-09-05 06:33 (UTC)

Bernard is not what I would imagine a flamingo enjoying for a name, but I suppose I shouldn't judge.

[A long sigh from Claire, considering the egg again.]

At least it was only an egg.

This place will keep us on our toes, that much is certain. I hope you haven't encountered any more difficult patients.

The royalty is the worst, as they tend to be. I hope your job's finding you better.

Plenty of fresh air, so I'm not complaining. I never did like sitting behind a desk.

[ Not that there's anything wrong with working at the office. Or paperwork. She's just more cut out for the field — funny, since she didn't always believe that to be the case. ]

You sound as though you have plenty of experience with royalty, however. Outside of Olympia, I mean.

You didn't seem the sort.

[A lady agent was fit for much more than paperwork. Even Claire can see that. As for mention of any personal knowledge of royalty, she bites back a sigh.]

I've had several encounters with King Louis XV, and my husband is a close confidant of Charles Stuart. Bonny Prince Charlie. Not my favorite people in any world, by far. Charles signed my husband's name on a decree of his intentions to reclaim the English throne as a supporter, making him a traitor to the crown. And that's without mentioning all the bloody stunts he pulled before.

[ One day they'll have that talk about her being a lady agent. ]

Are you nobility yourself, then? [ Wryly, ] Should I be calling you "my lady"?

[ Listen. She knows how these titles all work, she was taught as much. ]

Lady Broch Tuarach, if you want to be precise, but don't. Please. [It doesn't exist anymore, anyway. Can't be the lady of a property that's gone.] There's enough folk around here that address people as "my lady" to begin with, anyway.

[ She'd been joking. But then Claire tells her she really is the lady of a house and that's a new layer altogether. It doesn't change how she views her, not by much to really matter, but it's interesting. ]

That makes your husband a — laird, isn't it, up in Scotland?

That's right. It only went to his head for a short while.

[Rough times. Claire's glad he grew up--he's always been mature, older than his years, but he truly did become a man people respected. A man people would follow to their deaths, and gladly.]

[ She laughs and it's almost a snort, but she schools it just in time. ]

I imagine as lady of the house you put him in his place?

Naturally. Though his sister did quite a good job of it herself. He was away, for a time, and so she and her husband took care of the land. You'd like Jenny a great deal. Very formidable.

[And make one hell of an asset in a world war.]

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