hunter of butterflies

[mestika]

She stumbles into the garden as if she'd fallen from somewhere else, and scrambles quickly to her feet, her hair wild around her, a butterfly net clutched in one hand. Then she stops and looks at the garden, her dark eyes cautious

Comments

[sir_palomides]

Ooooh, she has got a butterfly net. This is Palomides's most interested look. "What winged fauna have you been capturing with that particular apparatus?"

[mestika]

It takes her a moment. "Butterflies for Mr. Stein," finally.

[sir_palomides]

"Butterflies? Of a particular species, Apatura ilia perhaps?" Because anachronisms are, after all, a White special.

[mestika]

"He knows the names. I do not."

[sir_palomides]

"Does he not teach you?"

[mestika]

"No."

[sir_palomides]

"Do you want to learn?"

[mestika]

"I have no need to."

[sir_palomides]

"Well! Then yours truly will not be consternated on your behalf." He bows. "Palomides is pleased to make your acquaintance."

[mestika]

"I am Mestika."

[sir_palomides]

"A fine appellation. Very fine," he answers, seriously.

Typist: Interestingly, Webster's translates 'mestika' to 'bezoar.'

[mestika]

She smiles. "Where do you come from?

Eh. It depends on what dictionary you're using. There are several meanings.

[sir_palomides]

"From the caliphate, naturally. Have you ever seen a man of yours truly's colour from any other place?"

Typist: Oh, I know that--I just found it amusing, because I totally did not expect that particular meaning. Also, I'm for bed now. ^_^;; Goodnight!

[mestika]

"Yes. From Patusan."

Good-night!

[sir_palomides]

He gives her a baffled look. "Patusan?"

[mestika]

"I used to live there. The people are all dark."