Afternoon of Thursday, July Second.
Follow Me Boy Lobby
I met Zann at the Café for a late lunch, not in my robes this time. I pulled out my jeans and a dress shirt, not wanting to look like I thought it was a date, but still more approachable and cooler than the pile of robes. After eating, we headed to Follow Me Boy, Zann practically dragging me along. She talked about little beyond the elevator as we ate. I've never had much luck with big mechanical things, but I can admire her ability. And, of course, her enthusiasm.
We make our way through the crowd before the gates of the brothel, inciting whispers as people recognize me.
"What is Brother Laurence doing here? And with a woman--if you call that a woman," a familiar voice says. She doesn't even whisper, the judgmental woman. I look up to see who it is--Mrs. Wilson. Of course. She would have nothing better to do. I write my own judgment on my list in small letters as I narrow my eyes at her. Taking Zann's hand, I place it in the crook of my arm and lead her through the gate and up to the front door.
"Ignore them," I say quietly to Zann as we enter the building. I nod at Madam Bathory, who gives us a strange look. "She wanted to see the elevator," I explain with a nod to the little thing on my arm. She smiles, as if she doesn't really believe me, and indicates where the elevator is with a point of the finger before turning her attention back to the door. It makes sense that she wouldn't really want to talk. She is working. I lead Zann toward the hallway, trying to keep Zann from distracting her. We stop in front of what I think is an elevator. "Well, here it is, I guess."
[OPEN to Zann and Miao.]
[CLOSED.]
I met Zann at the Café for a late lunch, not in my robes this time. I pulled out my jeans and a dress shirt, not wanting to look like I thought it was a date, but still more approachable and cooler than the pile of robes. After eating, we headed to Follow Me Boy, Zann practically dragging me along. She talked about little beyond the elevator as we ate. I've never had much luck with big mechanical things, but I can admire her ability. And, of course, her enthusiasm.
We make our way through the crowd before the gates of the brothel, inciting whispers as people recognize me.
"What is Brother Laurence doing here? And with a woman--if you call that a woman," a familiar voice says. She doesn't even whisper, the judgmental woman. I look up to see who it is--Mrs. Wilson. Of course. She would have nothing better to do. I write my own judgment on my list in small letters as I narrow my eyes at her. Taking Zann's hand, I place it in the crook of my arm and lead her through the gate and up to the front door.
"Ignore them," I say quietly to Zann as we enter the building. I nod at Madam Bathory, who gives us a strange look. "She wanted to see the elevator," I explain with a nod to the little thing on my arm. She smiles, as if she doesn't really believe me, and indicates where the elevator is with a point of the finger before turning her attention back to the door. It makes sense that she wouldn't really want to talk. She is working. I lead Zann toward the hallway, trying to keep Zann from distracting her. We stop in front of what I think is an elevator. "Well, here it is, I guess."
[OPEN to Zann and Miao.]
[CLOSED.]