[ she says it lightly, patting his shoulder the once as he heads off to the bathroom. she leaves the room herself soon after, not wanting to spend a moment longer than she has to by herself with that - thing. perhaps later, she'll offer to help dismantle any more that might remain. ]
[ truth be told, in the back of her mind, she's already shelving the inevitable lecture away for after they've both recovered from being horrifically drunk and then gloriously hungover. Jacob isn't going to escape a stern talking to about things like risk assessment and knowing when one is in over one's head that easily (he could have died, she thinks again, unbidden).
but that can wait. for now, she heads to the little cabinet tucked haphazardly in the corner of what could, if one was feeling generous, be called an extremely cramped living room, and roots around inside. with her head stuck half-inside the door of the cupboard, she only just about hears Jacob call from the bathroom. ]
Somewhere here in the living room, I think. [ she'd taken it upon herself to try and amass a ramshackle collection of medical supplies; it had been slow going, especially at first, but if you asked Evie, they couldn't be too careful with physicians anymore. no telling what anyone might think if they wound up treating someone who bore the Outsider's mark, after all.
she finds what she's looking for - a small tin box, tucked behind a half-empty bottle of pear soda and a dilapidated teapot - and draws it out onto her lap before getting back to her feet. ]
If it's not in this box, then it's anyone's guess. [ she's talking half to herself, half to Jacob as she wanders back out of the living area and takes a sharp turn into the bathroom. ] Delivery for you, Mister Frye.
no subject
[ she says it lightly, patting his shoulder the once as he heads off to the bathroom. she leaves the room herself soon after, not wanting to spend a moment longer than she has to by herself with that - thing. perhaps later, she'll offer to help dismantle any more that might remain. ]
[ truth be told, in the back of her mind, she's already shelving the inevitable lecture away for after they've both recovered from being horrifically drunk and then gloriously hungover. Jacob isn't going to escape a stern talking to about things like risk assessment and knowing when one is in over one's head that easily (he could have died, she thinks again, unbidden).
but that can wait. for now, she heads to the little cabinet tucked haphazardly in the corner of what could, if one was feeling generous, be called an extremely cramped living room, and roots around inside. with her head stuck half-inside the door of the cupboard, she only just about hears Jacob call from the bathroom. ]
Somewhere here in the living room, I think. [ she'd taken it upon herself to try and amass a ramshackle collection of medical supplies; it had been slow going, especially at first, but if you asked Evie, they couldn't be too careful with physicians anymore. no telling what anyone might think if they wound up treating someone who bore the Outsider's mark, after all.
she finds what she's looking for - a small tin box, tucked behind a half-empty bottle of pear soda and a dilapidated teapot - and draws it out onto her lap before getting back to her feet. ]
If it's not in this box, then it's anyone's guess. [ she's talking half to herself, half to Jacob as she wanders back out of the living area and takes a sharp turn into the bathroom. ] Delivery for you, Mister Frye.