Vierran is sitting at a table with a tall mug of hot coffee, her notepad held close to her as she takes dedicated notes on clothing styles with the occasional rough sketch. She's peering around the room with what she thinks is discretion. (It's not terribly obvious, but it is not exactly discreet.)
Her glance to Charles is a bit more obvious, as he sits across from her. She thinks an excited tweed! and lets her gaze linger for a moment (professionally) in appreciation of well-worn clothing. She quickly returns to note the style in her flipbook. It's definitely from Earth, but decidedly old fashioned. Her gaze flicks to Charles for a moment, unintentionally, as she wonders whether he, too, is just trying to blend with the local styles.
Oh, right, Milliways has people from other times. She wishes she could talk to The Boy to help her figure which option was more exciting; she likes both equally well.
Vierran's eyebrows raise with some surprised embarrassment, though she doesn't show any other sign of it. "No," she says, quite honestly. "I'm taking clothes-notes."
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He waves at Charles when he sees him, between chords of course.
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Her glance to Charles is a bit more obvious, as he sits across from her. She thinks an excited tweed! and lets her gaze linger for a moment (professionally) in appreciation of well-worn clothing. She quickly returns to note the style in her flipbook. It's definitely from Earth, but decidedly old fashioned. Her gaze flicks to Charles for a moment, unintentionally, as she wonders whether he, too, is just trying to blend with the local styles.
Oh, right, Milliways has people from other times. She wishes she could talk to The Boy to help her figure which option was more exciting; she likes both equally well.
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"Have we met?"
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He knows that Raven knows more about clothes than he does but Charles is quite comfortable with his style.
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