Room 512, Thursday Morning

[doesnotkneel]

It had struck Edward that he looked somewhat out of place here. The clothes he wore, especially. So he had gone to the bank to trade what little coin he had on him for the local tender - which was not enough, but he was trying to remain on the right side of the law instead of defaulting to a brief fascination with pickpocketing from his youth.

It had taken some haggling - they had insisted they did not haggle, but that just meant you had to haggle harder - but he had at least managed to buy a shirt... and now that it was the next morning and he had to get dressed, he was giving the shirt a decent examination. It had a hood, that much was familiar, and it was white-- but he couldn't tell what kind of fabric it was made of.

He cast it back onto the bed and contemplated his choices: look a bit silly with this odd shirt pulled over his breeches, or look a bit backward - and rather smelly, for a place like this, which was just ridiculously pristine - with his old clothes.

That this meant he was standing shirtless in front of the open door, he didn't particularly care about. It was warm in here anyway.

[[ open post, open door ]]

Comments

[doesnotkneel]

Edward sat down on his bed. Now there was an odd one - he wasn't sure what to make of it, really. Then again, there was little around this strange little island that made any lick of sense, and he was adapting well enough.

"How'd that start?"

[seveninchmotto]

She shrugged. "How does something like that usually start? Someone or something needs protecting, so fighters come into existence."

She was being vague but, well, she assumed he wasn't part of the Shadow World. Most people who could see the Marks would have said something about them by now.

[doesnotkneel]

Talk to Edward when he was just stumbling out of bed in the morning, and she might change her mind about that - but not now, no.

"And what did you need to protect?"

[seveninchmotto]

"People."

The world, really, but she was keeping some of her smugness at bay for the moment.

[doesnotkneel]

Right. "You fancy yourself a woman of great mystery, don't you?" Edward asked, not sure whether he was curious, amused, or intrigued. Or all three.

[seveninchmotto]

"Not really, I'm far too much of an open book for that."

Elsewhere on this floor, Flick was probably laughing right now for no good reason. Or because that was such an obvious lie.

"But I do think it's good to keep some traces of mystery intact."