(Untitled)

[jane_becomes]

Jane had gone home and worried that her mother or Cassandra would wonder about the bandage on her neck but Dr. Cullen did a good job and no one noticed

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[justdidntseeit]

"God, sorry -- "

Narrowly avoiding a collision with two wait-rats caught in a heated squeak-a-thon over a couple of dropped trays and spilled orders, Kate knocks into the brunette's shoulder and places a hand on the woman's upper arm to steady both of them.

"Sorry about that," she says with an apologetic wince.

[jane_becomes]

Jane knocks her tea cup over her writing and turns around to the other woman, she looks rather paler than you'd expect from such a small knock,

"I'm well, truly. Just a bit of a mess."

[justdidntseeit]

"Oh -- "

She snags a clean towel from another passing tray -- this one bound for clean-up duty from the mess the other rats created -- and tries to soak up as much of the tea as she can.

"No, it's all my fault, I'm sorry; I'll get you another notebook to replace that one."

[jane_becomes]

It wasn't a notebook simply a sheet of paper,

"There's no need, I had not written anything of great worth on it."

Jane moves forward to help mop things up, at least she's wearing one of her home dresses so it will absorb the spill.

[tragic_mask]

Although her powers don't work here, Melpomene still does what comes by instinct.

Naturally attracted to the pen (it's her vocation, after all), Melpomene drifts in seemingly Brownian motion towards the writer.

[jane_becomes]

Jane at the moment is not paying too much attention to anyone moving towards her as she searches for a way to describe a fleeting feeling.

[tragic_mask]

She'd know these things if she weren't in the bar--

that sense of something just out of your grasp--

but she can still see the signs. She stops by Jane, and, without actually speaking, manages to convey a soft noise of sympathy at writer's block.

[jane_becomes]

The sound makes Jane look up and smile absently at the other woman,

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

[zeevofbristol]

Here, the moon was nearly new so George's senses were around baseline. Otherwise his senses might have caught something. As it was, he needed his glasses to see, though he did recognize the struggling writer.

"Miss Austen, hullo. Working on a new story then?"

[jane_becomes]

It takes her a moment to break from her thoughts and smiles absently at him,

"Good evening, Mr. Sands."

[zeevofbristol]

He tilted his head to the side, and hastily asked, "Oh I-I'm not interrupting you am I?"

[jane_becomes]

"No, of course not. Forgive me, my thoughts were rather far away. How are you doing?"