"Hello." Both eyes open now. "Can I help you with something?" He tries to sound deadpan, just because that is not a bad place to start with a total stranger.
There are any number of things that Mary would like help with (getting back to England would be a good start) but nothing that she's inclined to ask anyone in (or out of) Milliways yet.
"Is there...I mean...do you need help with something?"
"No, this isn't as difficult as it looks." Pause. "No, it probably is. But I've done it a good number of times. If I do it right, it can be relaxing." He reaches up to the branch to begin straightening himself.
"It goes beyond that. It's clearing the mind so that the body can be calmed. Heart rate slows, breathing slows, muscles go loose. When I'm done, if I've done it right, I feel better, think better, act better." Though today he wasn't quite there. No headache, but no real relaxation either.
"I've never thought of it as a virtue. More like a necessity to get my through life. Or afterlife." Charlie now takes in the way Miss Bennet is dressed. Victorian era? Probably.
A succession of thoughts along the line of Am I dead? I couldn't possibly be dead. I'd remember dying. Someone would have mentioned if I was dead. If I was dead, I certainly wouldn't come HERE! runs through Mary's head.
The result is a somewhat stricken expression.
"I've never met a ghost before," she replies, somewhat weakly.
She is, Mary reflects, becoming in very short order troublingly numb to such outlandish situations.
Naturally, he keeps one eye open, just in case.
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Her steps slow, and then finally stop. Mary stands, confused, not at all sure what to do.
She hates not knowing what to do.
He doesn't seem to be in distress, but, really, what is he doing?
For lack of any other ideas, Mary clears her throat, rather loudly.
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There are any number of things that Mary would like help with (getting back to England would be a good start) but nothing that she's inclined to ask anyone in (or out of) Milliways yet.
"Is there...I mean...do you need help with something?"
Because, really. Man. Hanging from a tree.
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There's a good deal of doubtfulness in that one syllable.
"What happens if you do it wrong?"
As he shows signs of leaving his position, Mary automatically takes a step or two back.
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"I get a bad headache. Though I know a few meditation techniques that can fix that as well.
"I'm Charlie."
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She's starting to get used to meeting odd people here. In fact, more of them are odd than not.
"I'm Miss Bennet."
"Is meditation not to simply think on matters?"
Mary's not sure how that translates to a remedy of any kind.
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Honestly, it sounds very pleasant. Especially to Mary, who often finds herself feeling self-conscious, a bit muddled and unbalanced.
But one does not admit to such things to strangers.
"A well ordered mind is an invaluable virtue. Or so I have read."
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[ooc: sleep time. More tomorrow as time permits.]
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Mary frowns as if confronted with a most confusing riddle.
"Afterlife?"
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The result is a somewhat stricken expression.
"I've never met a ghost before," she replies, somewhat weakly.
She is, Mary reflects, becoming in very short order troublingly numb to such outlandish situations.
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Right?
"If you're dead, then why are you here?"
She might grip the curling tongs a bit tighter.
After all, if this man had been good, surely he'd be in Heaven. This is most certainly not Heaven.
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