(Untitled)

[sheila_nagig]

She came for the brother.

She's staying for the tea.

And scones.

And the big comfy chair by the fireplace.

[OOC: Mun requests great slowtime! For she has to get up to open the office in approximately 6 1/2 hours. For woe! Tags will be picked up tomorrow at the earliest possible time.]

Comments

[sonofwhitecity]

Boromir is reading near the fire, as he often is.

There's not much to do in this afterlife thing, but he's becoming very well-read.

He looks up and smiles politely. The scones smell good.

"Good evening."

[sonofwhitecity]

"I have heard of New York--I think I've met some people from there.

"Perhaps you've met my brother, Faramir? We look a bit alike."

[sheila_nagig]

She raises an eyebrow.

Now she knows where the name Boromir of fricken' Gondor sounds familiar from.

She doesn't quite facepalm, but she does nod.

"Yeah. I've never met him, but I've seen him around."

Him and about 16,000 other Wenham PB'd peeps.

[sonofwhitecity]

There are some faces that just keep . . . reoccuring.

Odd, that.

"He works security," he says with not a little familiar pride. "What is it like? Is it a grand city?"

[sheila_nagig]

"New York? Oh yeah. It's violent, it's muggy, it's kinda cramped. But it's home and it's huge and it's beautiful."

She's smiling as she talks about it. Blatant love for the place.

"Hey, I could show you it if I wanted."

[sonofwhitecity]

He laughs out loud. People here are so generous. "I should like that very much. I cannot stay away long, though. I'm rather . . . tied to this place. You see."

[sheila_nagig]

"Part of the three-day-or-thereabouts rule thing? Yeah, I got told about that."

And besides, she'd been annoyed at Tolkien for it.

"It's just out the door. We can go once we're through with tea and scones, if you want."

[sonofwhitecity]

"That would be lovely, thank you. I haven't had a chance to stretch my legs for a few months, now."

[sheila_nagig]

She's still smiling. The fact that she will have gentlemanly company is totally not the reason that she's eating her scones faster or drinking her tea faster or getting crumbs in her cleavage from the above.

Not at all.

[sonofwhitecity]

If he notices, he does not comment.

He doesn't say much for eating, either, though.

[sheila_nagig]

In short order, scones are finished and tea is drunk, and Sheila's just sort of... almost rocking in her seat.

"So, you wanna see New York?"

Beaming.

She gets to show off her cities.

Mun totally did not just type something that rhymes with cities.

[sonofwhitecity]

"Yes, very much so," he says, totally not thinking of anything that rhymes with cities either.

He's a gentleman and prince-type person and he assumes nothing.

But he has been alone in Milliways for a very, very long time.

He stands and offers her his arm. "I hope I will not stand out too much."

[sheila_nagig]

SQUEE. ARM-OFFERING.

SQUEE.

SHEILA IS MADE OF SQUEE AS SHE TAKES HIS ARM AND LEADS HIM TO THE DOOR AND HE IS A GENTLEMAN AND SQUEE.

Ahem.

The door opens on a mostly-white apartment, with sprinklings of green.

It's very Sheila-ish.

"Well, this is my place..."