(Untitled)

[almost_arabian]

Lawrence is currently sitting at a chair somewhat near the fire, thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

There is a worn copy of Arabia Deserta by C.M. Doughty in his hands. Still his favorite of Doughty's books, he'd told him that over and over.

Do bother him - he won't mind too terribly.

Comments

[vs_nuggan]

Maybe Lawrence's ear will be distracted by the quietly crying infant, or his eye by the babe's exhausted mother rocking him to sleep by the fire.

Or maybe not.

[almost_arabian]

Lawrence doesn't have much of an eye for exhausted people, but the crying child does cause him to perk a little.

"Miss?" He sets the book down into a pocket of his robes and then smiles just a tad.

[vs_nuggan]

She glances over, smiling a little apologetically.

"Sorry sir." she says quietly, dark marks visible under her eyes.

[almost_arabian]

He frowns, walking over to the edge of the fire.

"Are you perhaps doing any better? I assume you've spoken to Mal about her recent actions."

His fingers itch for a smoke, but he assumes she'd probably frown upon it with the child around.

[vs_nuggan]

There are nasty bruises around her wrists, visible from close up.

She nods.

"Yes, we talked. We reached an agreement. I don't think it was very fair on her." She strokes Jack's hair, sighing a little. "Nor am I sure it reduces the threat."

[almost_arabian]

"Then perhaps a revision is in order? If you believe it's not fair..."

Because he knows personally how well unresolved conflicts go.

[vs_nuggan]

"I'm not sure there's any other way."

She looks down at the sobbing child, down at the floor.

"I told her she couldn't babysit Jack unless she stopped seeing Sands. And that if she didn't stop the blood stuff I wouldn't let her near Jack at all."

[almost_arabian]

He pauses, nodding.

"The first is reasonable, but I do not necessarily agree with the latter part."

Because really, you can't condemn blood play if you do it yourself.

[vs_nuggan]

She nods.

"I know. I just don't think that I could fight Mal off if she went on a bloodfest. Oh I'd try, but she's so much stronger."

[almost_arabian]

"If she's not done it already, it seems improbable that she will do it now."

A shrug. "From my experience, it is only when she's quite weak that she even has the craving at all."

[vs_nuggan]

"Not to me she hasn't. But she knocked Doctor Guppy flying and he's much bigger than me. All he was doing was trying to help her."

She pauses a minute, placing one hand on a strategically placed table just to steady herself against the exhaustion that bears down upon every muscle in her body.

"And yes, that was a couple of months ago, but she's perfectly capable."

[almost_arabian]

"But she's a bit iffy about touch as it is, you understand."

He rubs a hand over his jaw thoughtfully, nodding. "She'll be fine, I suspect." A brow arches.

"You, however, I have my suspicions about." He pauses. "It might be best for you to get to your room, Miss." Perhaps.

[vs_nuggan]

"It's Betty. And he wasn't touching her."

She rubs her forehead. "I'm fine, just a little tired."

Or rather has had about eight hours sleep in the last week.

[almost_arabian]

"Do trust me when I say that you look quite more than a little tired. Come, I shall help you up to your room...Betty."

'Miss' seems rather more appropriate - but he has the habit of calling anyone with a child 'miss'.

[vs_nuggan]

Jack still appears agitated, whimpering quietly with little sobs. His mum gives in and nods.

"Sorry." she says quietly. "I stayed down because normally it helps Jack drop off better being in a noisy room."

[almost_arabian]

"Ah, please. Do not pay it any mind at all, miss."

He offers out his arm.