And where was this place? No sooner had her family been reconciled, than they'd faced Antonio's wrath, that Vindici had dared brave the deeds that had increased that fickle lord's holdings. It took little imagination to guess at what fate awaited them, and yet she was here, in a room too drab for the Duke's liking even in a dungeon. Some oubliette
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"Hello," he said, leaning against the wall, arms folded. His grin was wide and friendly. "It's not a jail.. not really anyway. It's a school. And it's not always too late. Time can be rather flexible when you work it the right way."
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The clothes were unremarkable, but the speech was wrong, the sentences put together strangely. Even the way he moved was subtly off.
"Brother," she murmured to herself, "I knew thee, even when I knew not thy face." Crossing her arms, she spoke firmly and clearly. "I know thy face, but I know thee not."
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"And later on, your lot will figure out that time isn't as linear as you think. It doesn't run out, it can't. It's fluid, it can flow and eddy like a river. It's quite marvelous, really. I'm the Doctor, by the way. Who are you?"
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"In truth, I begin to think it a madhouse," she said quietly.
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He managed to just barely nick his shoulder on the door to the sorting room when he came in, all in fresh bandages and a ratty old Ramones t-shirt and ratty old designer jeans. He looked like a fashion-conscious mummy.
"And surviving it, which is more useful than succumbing to the pain," Kurama said, of her answer to the Hufflepuff question. "That trait is admirable."
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"Canst thee think of nothing, then, that it would be better not to survive? I can."
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"I can't speak for most people," he said at length, putting his hands (carefully, they still ached something fierce at times) in his pockets. "But I can't think of a single time I'd have rather died than survive and come back stronger. I may lose a limb, or," he smiled wryly, "an eye, but if I have survived intact enough to deal back what was done tenfold, then I consider it an accomplishment."
He paused a moment, and then added, "being dead is not all that great a gift, even in the most painful of experiences." He should know; he'd been there more than once.
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"You have turned pragmatic melancholy into an art form," he said, peeking at her over the top of the paper, an impish grin on his mouth, but studious attention in his eyes. "That is very impressive."
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More of the words a brother might use...
Words a happy brother might use, a brother delighted by his coming marriage, to a sister too young to grasp the words, but old enough to hear the fondness behind them.
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"I don't surrender," she said, not as concerned with the other woman understanding her as she was with reminding herself. "If thou'rt mistaken, I will be no cheaply won prize."
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"What was your life like before coming here?"
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