River had decided to go for a walk in her new hat that now had a feather from a duck. And finding Jane had been one of her goals for this expedition. The position in which she found Jane did surprise her though.
"I KNOW WHAT the FUCK I'm talkin'about..." Jane said flailing her arms without lifting her forehead from the wall. "PEOPLE! I KNOW PEOPLE! cocksucker."
Chocolate chip cookies were invented in 1931, she had never seen one. And, if what she'd read about herself in some books was true, she would die in 1905 and never have lived to see one if she hadn't come here.
What a depressing thought.
She finished off the mostly empty bottle and dropped it, freeing the hand to take the cookie as she leaned her head back onto the wall of the Blue Fucking Box that was bigger on the inside that she lived in with the strangest Limey she'd ever met and the World;s Most Morbid Bitch (TM).
She took a bite of the cookie before letting her arm go slack at her side again.
"It's delicious. Bill would have loved them." She choked out as she started to cry.
River handed her the orange juice and gently patted her back. "I'm sure he would," she said. Jane's sadness was hard to be around, but she felt it was her duty as a friend to try.
Jane does not have a free hand for the orange juice.
She does, however, turn away and takes a few uneasy steps from River before doubling over and vomiting on the ground.
Whether it's a reaction to being touched or the smell of the orange juice is uncertain as she wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve and goes back to her spot leaning against the wall.
River tried handing her the orange juice again. "Compensates for loss of liquid from alcohol," she said. "Better than the cookie. But you can still have that if you want."
River wasn't particularly sensitive to people being sick, but she tried thinking of a place to take Jane. She also considered hiding the remaining alcohol.
Jane didn't seem to be in a sociable mood. "I need food," River said. "And as I gave my food to you I have to go and buy breakfast somewhere." She turned to leave.
"Jane?"
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"..." Still not moving.
"What kind of cookie?" she asks into the wall.
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Chocolate chip cookies were invented in 1931, she had never seen one. And, if what she'd read about herself in some books was true, she would die in 1905 and never have lived to see one if she hadn't come here.
What a depressing thought.
She finished off the mostly empty bottle and dropped it, freeing the hand to take the cookie as she leaned her head back onto the wall of the Blue Fucking Box that was bigger on the inside that she lived in with the strangest Limey she'd ever met and the World;s Most Morbid Bitch (TM).
She took a bite of the cookie before letting her arm go slack at her side again.
"It's delicious. Bill would have loved them." She choked out as she started to cry.
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She does, however, turn away and takes a few uneasy steps from River before doubling over and vomiting on the ground.
Whether it's a reaction to being touched or the smell of the orange juice is uncertain as she wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve and goes back to her spot leaning against the wall.
The bitten cookie is intact.
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River wasn't particularly sensitive to people being sick, but she tried thinking of a place to take Jane. She also considered hiding the remaining alcohol.
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She looked down at the cookie in one hand, and the full bottle in the other.
Then she put the full bottle to her lips and tilted her head back, drinking the whole thing down in a matter of moments.
Then she took the orange juice, after dropping the bottle to the ground. Which she sipped before leaning back against the wall.
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"I got it thanks." she mumbled.
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