Oct 24, 2008 16:30
telemakos, dairine, cimorene, arabella strange, morvydd, crackplot, patricia donleavy, mordred, caranthir, richard carstone, florian, kvothe, melou, melehan, john jeckyll, gaheris, ariel, alyosha karamazov, zara, laurel, galadriel, aredhel, eol, findarato, sagramore, florence
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She looks around, frowning a little, her hands tucked into her sweater. "Oh, great."
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He's barely beat - the practice was to his advantage, today, and he's calm, but for how long?
Yes, he's human, and he finishes to shrug the jacket on, not bothering with the bow tie.
"What in the world?"
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"Hello?"
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".... hello." A pause. "Please tell me this is not the Crown Plaza."
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"Miss, what do you mean, you thought this was Boston?"
He's evidently British, as evidenced by his thick, upper class accent, belied by his rugged brawler looks.
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Carey tugs at his collar. "And now I'm late to that bloody cocktail."
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"London." Actually, Oxfordshire, but now that we're between wars, he lives in London.
"A long way of from Boston, I'm afraid."
Though he looks like a brawler in a suit, his accent clearly indicates a sort of aristocracy - he has no cockney going on at all.
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