View source for Log:A Light Lunch at the home of Edmond Basumatary

{{ Log
| cast = [[Adithan Varma|Edmond]], [[Sterling]], [[Kelsey Williams]]
| summary = Ed finally repays Sterling for her lovely tea he freaked out and bailed on, and incidentally, introduces her to Kelsey and vice versa.
| gamedate = 2017.11.30
| gamedatename = 30 November 2017
| subtitle = "Gorgeous, you are /so/ fucked up."
| location = [[R08]] Highgate, Edmond's flat
| categories = Changeling
| log = The address that Sterling has for Edmond, confirmed later in the [https://78.media.tumblr.com/360442394c1451f4d0091c29c17f2d2e/tumblr_p0594kt2gK1qi0mwuo1_540.jpg text message series] Ed 
sent inviting her over to his place, is a small first-floor apartment in a quite shoddy building in a not especially nice neighborhood in Fort Brunsett. The hallway outside the door is 
narrow and dim-ish, but clean enough, and the door to number eight has been freshly painted white and the doorknob scrubbed until it gleams. It's also open a crack, and the bright red 
inside spills out ''into'' that dim hall.

It's a crack open just in case Sterling comes by while Edmond's got his hands full, but seeing as it's a small place, she can also ''see him'' from the crack in the door. Perhaps he's not 
afraid of getting shot. He is, in fact, cooking, and humming to himself as he does so; he's wearing a loose dove-grey silk shirt with the sleeves pinned up and a navy blue nehru jacket 
with gold embroidery over it; his jeans are black and he's wearing black slip-on shoes. The pinned-up sleeves reveal that the wood only goes up to about three-quarters up his forearms, 
and appears rooted to a horizon that goes up a quarter of his biceps before it hits the edge of the sky.

The scent of spices is strong but pleasant: he's gone for the korma mixes this time, rather than standard curry-style blends, especially since the door's part open and he didn't want to 
flood the hall when people might complain.



This time around, Sterling has gone for a more modern and understated look - she's wearing a deep blue dress, that in some ways almost mimics sportswear, with zipped pockets just below 
the hips. There's also a pair of pants underneath, a somewhat looser fit than leggings, and she has her usual boots - gleaming with hedgespun mist - and a black blazer over top underneath 
of a winter coat. 
 
Little actual heed is paid to the building itself, or any potential neighbors, but she does stop short when she notices the freshly painted door and the crack in it. A moment's 
hesitation, and she lifts a hand to wrap her lightning-laced knuckles against the frame of the door. 



There's a glance over his shoulder as soon as Sterling's hand touches the jamb, and ''there's'' the grin, teeth bright in his night-sky face. "Hallo! Come in dear Doctor Plague, I am 
sorry for not inviting you earlier, or contacting you either-- I was a bit slow to recover, and then met neighbors and cooked for them, and had to go shopping, and many things I did not 
expect-- please close the door behind you, Kelsey can knock if he comes by. Ah! He lives down the hall, and I think you would like each other very much."

He spins on a heel with a pot full of Stuff, and he starts pouring it into a big bowl. It doesn't match the rest of the dishes, but there are places set at the table in front of the 
couch, informal but Prepared. The table itself is a little bit higher than a coffee table, so people are likely expected to pick up their plates. There is no television. There ''is'' a 
pot of tea under a ridiculous tea cosy that was knitted to look like a big orange tabby cat.



Stepping in quietly, Sterling reaches behind herself to close the door, space-lightning glance going Edmond's way where he's cooking in the kitchen. "I'm glad to hear that you took care 
of yourself, and recovered," she says in answer, and actually smiles, shown by the relative brightness of her teeth when her misty flesh pulls back. Reaching up, she removes her coat, 
laying it over one arm. "And have made new friends. Good." 
 
There is a clear tone of approval, and then quiet as she starts looking around, eventually just laying her coat over the couch's arm if available. "It's a little more... eclectic than I 
imagined," this is said while Sterling is looking down at the ridiculous tea cozy, sitting proudly on the set table.



"I like colors and bright things very much," Edmond answers the observation first, glancing up with a smile, wry and crooked. "There are not enough of them in the world outside my head, so 
during the times that I have a space, I flood it with what gives me comfort." The smile turns into a wide grin, the stars in his eyes sparkling. "Additionally, as it happens, it gives 
Kelsey something to complain about."

He comes around the grey formica counter with a big bowl of fluffy pale gold rice with saffron and bits of orange zest in it, and sets it down next to the fat orange cat tea cosy, then 
goes back for the bowl of Stuff he'd poured from a saucepan. It looks like some kind of chunky thick sauce, and it's set down next to the rice. "One more!" he says cheerily, then goes 
back for a round flat dish-- looks like it's in a cake pan-- of layered vegetables and other stuff and crunchy fried bits of dough on top. That and a pitcher of pale gold iced beverage 
are put down as well.

The couch can indeed have the coat laid down over the end. Edmond smooths down his jacket and unpins his sleeves, then pulls over the wooden desk chair from the typewriter table in the 
corner. He rocks back on his heels and gestures broadly at the couch and table, smiling winningly. "We can start without him. And-- yes, I-- did not think I would be making other friends, 
but it seems that even if I am determined to avoid attachments, they happen regardless of my intentions," he says sheepishly. "But I did tell you I would recover. It is still a rickety 
thing, recovery, but as long as I do not dwell on it, I am all right."

He gestures at the dishes. "Rice, self-explanatory, but it is orange and saffron. This is vegetable korma; this is cold and a dessert of sorts, it is aloo papri chaat. And the tea is 
chai, but I have black as well if you would prefer it; the pitcher is nimbu pani, which is lime and mint."



"...I imagine that I must be very boring, in your world of colors," notes the monochromatic Sterling, all deep grey and black laced with bits of silver-white lightning. She, often times, 
is very much like looking at a particularly animate x-ray. Turning, she carefully sits down on the couch, the halo of black nebula that is her hair slowly wending and curling around her 
face, and up through the air as well. "It looks delightful, Edmond. I believe I will have the... let's see... start with the rice..." she takes up a plate, putting some of the orange and 
saffron rice onto it. A quick turn, and she begins to add vegetable korma as well. 
 
"As for your recovery... it always is; but do try to care for yourself. That is the most important. Some of the most beautiful things are... the most fragile." She hesitates a little on 
what she says, a small frown pulling at her lips and turning them downwards. It really ends up more as a deepening of shadows, there, over the light from her facial bones. 
 
Instead, she points out as she continues to separate out food, "Friends are important. Why are you trying to avoid them?"



"You could never be boring," Edmond says with a laugh, but there is fondness behind it, in abundance. "All of your colors are in your words and your manner, in your motion and deed, in 
that smirk you make that you try to hide." There may be some teasing in there, but it's very slight, even if there's a grin, finally, at the end. He dishes rice and korma out for himself, 
and then he leans to pick up the teapot and pour for both of them, Sterling first. Hot tea won't stay hot, but the limeade will stay cold for a bit, with the ice in it. There's honey and 
cream for the tea, in easy reach, and Sterling's got first dibs on fixing hers if she likes.

Picking up his plate, Edmond glosses over her comment about the most beautiful things being fragile, having only a smile for it, pointed down at his plate, but when she continues and asks 
a question, he glances up and looks faintly embarrassed. "They are very easy to lose, and I have found that that experience is more damaging than being friendly with many and close with 
none, and leaving a place before becoming too attached. It is... loss is destructive. Especially when I am unprepared. But-- I cannot, this time. I cannot avoid it this time. There is 
already too much of myself rooted here."



"A tree without roots is more susceptible to the storm," that one may not be particularly a comment to Edmond, for Sterling's brows draw close as she leans back more on the couch. The plate is carefully set aside, and then she's busying her hands adding a dollop of honey and some cream to the tea - just a bit. Chai, afterall, is somewhat best when left nicely spicy. "...I can understand that, I think. I have... not had many close friends in years. Certainly some associates, who help me in my ventures, but I don't know that I would truly call them 'friends'." 
 
The tea fixed, she lifts the saucer (?) and the cup, having a careful sip of it. Following that is a brisk, satisfied nod. "...I suspect you find that easier; the making of friends. I'm afraid that I've spent far too much time in the minds of others..." Those words are left to trail off. 



"A hundred years in exile from this world, and I managed one. We left together. We were discovered and he was torn from me and I was smashed to pieces, unable to protect him. When I had 
finally pulled all those pieces back together-- not knowing what I may have left behind-- he was lost. I cannot remember his face, or his voice; I can remember the warmth of his skin and 
the flavor of his surprised love."

Edmond says this whilst adding honey and cream to his own tea, a brittle smile on his face, not looking up from his wooden hands and their task. "People frequently like me. I like it that 
they do; I have always liked them. But I do not wish to suffer a loss such as that again, so I-- I had not invested in them since returning. I did not intend to, here." He finally looks 
up. "But it happened. That is one reason I was dismayed when you told me that your duty calls you to vanish, piece by piece, until there is nothing remaining but memory and dream."

He sips his tea, letting the warmth seep in, and then calmly sets it down once more and picks up his plate. There's a rueful smile he gives to the x-ray woman of lightning and voids. "You 
are a doctor of the mind. So much time in the minds of others, needing to keep a detachment from them in order to help them-- I suspect it turns those who might be friends into patients, 
instead."



"...Or specimens," Sterling's correction on that front is soft, sewn with something approaching regret. She doesn't touch her food as of yet, seeming content with the tea. A breath is taken of the steam, and she shakes her head, the wild nebula of black and stars whirling around her head as if she was underwater. "...Not always. If you were a -patient-, my dear, would it ultimately be so bad? As I am now?" her smile, over the luminous teeth in her face, is somewhat tight, and she takes a sip of the tea before setting it down, drawing her plate into her lap instead. 
 
"...But no, I don't consider you a patient, so much. To an extent, maybe? It is... difficult to put aside things that I've done for so long. I'm not, truly, anymore the woman I was before. Maybe for the best," taking up the fork, Sterling picks lightly at the vegetables before taking a bite. When she does so, a look of surprise - or at least a widening of the eyes - flits over her face. "It's sweet! Not what I expected." She has another bite.



There's a faintly regal nod of acknowledgement of the correction, and no judgement applied; Edmond starts eating as Sterling speaks, and obviously he is not surprised at the taste, since 
he made it-- he smiles lopsidedly, one corner of his mouth quirking up as he chews, when she says not always, when she clarifies.

He waits until ''she'' is surprised by the taste to give any answers or commentary on her words, and the first thing he says, he says with an understated, almost underhanded mischief. "I 
did," he points out, stars in his eyes twinkling, "specify a light lunch. These are things that would have a different flavour if I made them for Haruki; I was able to use cream and 
yoghurt rather than coconut milk... much of the sweetness comes from honey and golden raisins. There is tamarind chutney in the aloo papri chaat, it is also sweet, but it is tangy as 
well."

He balances his plate on one knee and reaches for his tea, sipping again before addressing anything else Sterling said. Then, mildly and with affection, "It would not be bad, but I have 
thought over your offer to see to my dreams, and I have come to the conclusion that I would far rather be a friend to you than someone you felt you needed to fix. So if I have excessive 
problems with nightmares, I will ask you for help only if you can assure me you would not see me differently for spending time in my mind."



Another sip of her tea, and Sterling seems to mull over what Edmond has to say, regarding his dreams and everything. Eventually, she offers to him, "I'm certain that I have seen far worse, Edmond, and I think that... often times that insight makes me -lose- sight of the other things surrounding such things. I would like to say that it would not; but I honestly don't know. I have... never really done so on an actual ''friend''." Veins of lightning trace over the backs of her hands, and along her neck, as she explains this. 
 
"...I can understand, at least, the desire not to have someone else in your mind. Empathize, even," the space case Wizened nods slowly, in the wake of that. She still hasn't touched the dessert, instead returning to dining on the vegetable korma. "Haruki... that name sounds somewhat familiar."



Edmond nods, setting his tea down to eat again, and again he's quietly listening, his attention an intense but not overwhelming thing. "I am certain you must have, as well. My problems, 
to me they are horror but to others they would be Tuesday, yes? But still, there would no doubt be detachment that I believe neither of us would wish. I do not fear you judging me, only 
the potential of you losing sight of who I am ''to you''-- losing it to ''what'' I am, from a healer's perspective. Perhaps it will be different once we have spent more time together, 
once you have seen more of me from the outside, and it is harder to lose impressions to the coldness of fact."

There's a quick grin, then, and he waves his fork around with mockingly imperious dismissiveness. "I do not shy from the idea of you in my mind!" Then he says more seriously, "My only 
concern is that I used to see people from the inside, and frequently it ''did'' change my view of them, because I could not turn it off and it happened the moment we touched. I did not 
like most of them less, but those who knew-- it occasionally complicated our connections to each other. I like our connection as it is, Doctor Plague, and as I am, I would not be able to 
tell if you viewed me differently thereafter. That is what I fear."

He has his fork halfway to his mouth when she says Haruki sounds familiar, and he freezes. "Ah. I thought you knew each other better. He came by yesterday with a vast array of takeaway 
food. When I mentioned you and that I had been distracted from contacting you to say I was doing well, he said he had been in Cat-22 and that you were concerned for me, and he felt bad, 
and remembered he should look in on me. He is a slight man, Japanese. Very cute. Like a kitten."



For the most part, Sterling listens and dines, still not having touched the dessert dish at all - but she does seem to be enjoying the vegetable one. Another sip of the tea, and she wets 
her lips before responding after a faint, irritable frown that's there and gone, "Oh, yes, I remember him. I had meant to... tell him where to find you, but I was distracted, I'm afraid. 
He -did- seem concerned about your well-being." She pauses, taking a longer sip of the tea and seemingly ruminating on what she will say next. 
 
When the cup is lowered, she continues, "I was seeking who did it, honestly, and looking into things." The cup is then placed on the table as she leans forwards, waving her 
lightning-pulsed hand after as if to clear out the subject. "I'm glad that he found you." 



When changelings grow in power, the Wyrd listens to them. That's not cause and effect. It's a tautology. The obvious effects, the great uses of power, the increasing strangeness ... 
everyone in changeling society knows these. But the less obvious effects are, well, lesser.

Like someone knocking at Edmond's door perfectly in time to punctuate her last sentence.



The elemental's wooden hands slow, and he studies Sterling's reaction carefully, putting it together with what he knows of her thus far and the patterns of expressions he remembers from 
when he was small, and that he's seen since he's been back, since he's been closer to human again. But-- she clears the subject, so he doesn't bring up her apparent difficulty with it; he 
hates being called on things himself.

And at the very end of 'I'm glad that he found you', there's a knock on the door, and Edmond's eyebrows shoot straight up. One corner of his mouth quirks, and he glances toward the empty 
place setting, and he laughs and sets his things down to get up. "One moment, and I will tell you what I know of her, while skirting what she did," he says with a smile, moving to the 
door to open it.



"I believe you told me enough of what she did, last time, for me to narrow it down..." Sterling says in a quieter voice, lower so that whoever's behind the door won't be able to hear. 
While Edmond's seeing who's there, she finishes off her vegetable korma, and then sets the plate down. -Finally- she starts getting into the dessert (that her player can't spell), because 
if you're disappearing into dreams what need have you for long term healthy eating. Besides, it's Indian food. 



Who's there is a slight Fairest in jeans and a hoodie, the latter unzipped to show a slice of a T-shirt printed with the Blue Marble photo of the Earth. A tail of muted candleflame hair 
tumbles over their shoulder. "Sorry," Kelsey says as they slip inside, automatically moving to let Edmond close the door as quickly as possible. "I only just got your note; I was out 
meeting with a couple of clients." That might explain the faint lavender-and-peppermint smell.



"Do not worry, I knew you were out and only hoped you might arrive before the lovely Doctor Plague had to leave," Edmond says cheerily, yes, closing the door behind Kelsey as quickly as 
possible. He gestures widely into the room. "Doctor Sterling, this is my other friend Kelsey; Kelsey, this is my other friend, Doctor Sterling," he says with a vast amount of 
self-amusement. "I do hope you enjoy poking each other with verbal sticks, you are both so very adept. It will be a pleasure to spectate."

He puts a hand lightly on Kelsey's back but doesn't push; instead he just goes back in and flumphs onto the sofa again, bright colors and dark sky mixed in with bright colors and 
patterns. He is not quite camouflaged. "I believe the tea is even still hot~! At any rate, I was about to say what I knew about the woman at Cat-22. And-- Sterling, honestly, it will be 
all right. I will tell you how you can find out more. Her name is Leitha, and I believe she was a Darkling of some sort, potentially Autumn. She was there with a mute man who also took 
too many notes. Dr. Isolde Garreau carried her outside afterwards, from what I understand; there was a notice about it in the paper-- she may know more. She is also a very funny person."




One wide gesture deserves another; Kelsey follows Edmond's to Sterling, and while their eyes widen a fraction, they also bow neatly over their left hand. "You're the one who lured him 
into low and corrupt habits like 'talking with people about things less trivial than the weather and unwise sandwich choices?' I /do/ appreciate."

Seating that won't actually intrude on the Doctor's space is sought out, the better to listen without interrupting to Edmond's list of Possible-Darkling Facts. "Which she is the very 
funny person?" they ask at the end. "Dr Garreau, or the other?"



One of Sterling's eyebrows presumably raises, since there's a shift of the misty shadows of her face, and then she actually laughs briefly at the commentary about 'low and corrupt 
habits'. "I -do- have quite the reputation as a corruptor; I fear I simply can't put it away." That's partially serious, partially in humor, and she inclines her head to Kelsey, eyes 
presumably on their face. "My pleasure, as is making your acquaintance." It really is quite difficult to tell where she's looking - or how exactly she's doing it. 
 
For her part, she's wearing a grey dress probably patterned off of sportswear, with zipped pockets several inches below the hip, and a close-fitting pair of dress pants with hedgespun 
boots that appear to be mist just as much as her - but lit by morning light from a friendlier star, maybe. 
 
"...Carried her out?" wonders Sterling afterwards, obviously curious. "And Doctor Garreau... Tsk. That is interesting, but I do wonder why she would be helped at all. Or was it 
purposefully removed?" 



"Doctor Garreau," Edmond tells Kelsey patiently, with this sidelong Look that's prim at the edges because he also says, "and you are meant to poke at each other, not potentially gang up 
on me, that would be entirely unfair." He waves a hand airily. "Though I suppose I can wait for my entertainment." He leans to pour Kelsey tea, then nudges cream and honey across the 
table a little ways so Kelsey can doctor it. (Edmond's is clearly doctored.) "For the record, that is vegetable korma, saffron and orange rice, and aloo papri chaat. In the pitcher is 
nimbu pani, it is lime and mint," he informs the Fairest.

There's a glance to Sterling as he sits back again, this time with his tea to finish off before he has some of the chaat himself. "Apparently the woman was yelling and eyewitnesses were 
trying to figure out if she was drunk or on drugs or possibly Dr. Garreau's girlfriend. So probably purposefully removed."



"All consequence are always intended, of course." Kelsey flickers a smile at Edmond and manages somehow not to give any sidelong glance to Sterling to evaluate the odds of conspiracy. 
Then perches on the desk chair as if the back were made of ice, liable to melt or sear if leaned against. Honey is allowed to be an immediate distraction.

"Yes," they comment. "Well. If they ''were'' dating, presumably yelling would have been paid more mind." That's the limit of potentially useful commentary from that particular Fairest on 
that one; lack of familiarity with the people involved, apparently.




"...So probably forcibly removed in this case, due to her behavior," agrees Sterling, finishing off the remains of her food and pouring herself a bit more tea - should there be any left. 
Chai is quite good, afterall. Her own posture is more relaxed, and the pulses of lightning have slowed subtly, even though she's indulging in a caffeinated beverage. More cream and honey 
is added to it. "Doctor Garreau might, then, be a place to start for me to... proceed there. What did you say her name was, again, Leitha...?" 
 
A look, mostly indicated a turn of the head, is sent Kelsey's way and the shadows about Sterling's teeth adjust into a smile. To Edmond, she says almost apologetically, "I'm afraid your 
friend has something of a... calming aura around them." That's probably something rarely said of an Autumn. 



Another Look at Kelsey, and there is a muted sparkle to it, and it might be mild amusement and it might be high amusement mitigated by mutiny. But then Edmond continues.

"I was otherwise occupied at the time, but yes-- Dr. Garreau should be able to give you more information. She was also attempting to distract the woman and her apparent partner earlier in 
the slow spiral of disaster. It was Haruki and a girl named Mina that I was primarily speaking with prior to making my poor life choices," Edmond says easily, "and they were also 
attempting to stop the growing situation." A beat, and the elemental sort of curls back further into the couch as he thinks about the parts of the evening that merely had him slow-motion 
pantomime exploding, rather than on the floor having enough of combined hallucination and panic attack to actually injure himself. It looks like the couch might swallow him. Maybe that's 
why there's cloth draped over it. "Leitha... ah... Kane. But that, I fear, ''is'' all I will be able to give you on the subject."

Thankfully, Sterling is also making comments about Kelsey, and bright starry eyes glance to the Flamesiren, and the corners of Edmond's eyes crinkle, and he grins and his teeth are a 
bright contrast. "Kelsey is reasonable and remarkably patient with me and also very beautiful. You are both very beautiful, and so is Haruki, and I consider myself exceptionally blessed 
to be so surrounded by beauty."



"We're guests," Kelsey says lightly to Sterling. "I'm on good behavior. I assure you that once I'm familiar enough with the situation and the people involved to have an idea who was being 
an idiot and in what way, I will be ''far'' more entertainingly cranky." Poor life choices are not commented on otherwise. Possibly that one's just too easy when it's already laid out 
like that. Possibly they think it's impolite to steal the couch's prey.

Annnnd then there's Edmond's comment. Apparently, to Kelsey, rolling one's eyes at that 'remarkably patient' comment is an expression that needs to be almost full-body. Almost only 
because they're careful not to spill tea on their own hands.



"...I am usually unfortunately uninhibited in my verbal observations," well, that's fairly self-aware of Sterling, and she does sound somewhat... regretful on that front, the lightning 
underneath of her translucent skin stirring in a more animated fashion than it had been. She continues on afterwards, however, with a small nod, "That is usually not at all of concern to 
me; provided that you don't mind a response in kind." She smiles, though, or at least the shadows about her mouth shift. 
 
"Beautiful," repeats Sterling then, sounding... amused more than anything else, on that front. "I believe most would call me 'frightful', darling. There is a reason that I usually walk 
about with my mask hiding... this..." she gestures with her hand. "Away from most eyes." 



"I await your entertaining crankiness with bated breath," Edmond says, sounding almost zen as he cradles his tea, "so long as it is not aimed in my direction. You should eat some food. It 
is very different from everything Haruki brought, as it is from what I made us when we met." He does not seem interested in unfolding himself from his corner; at some point he seems to 
have shed his black slip-on shoes, because when he ''does'' shift, it's to bring his baked-clay feet up beneath him.

Then his gaze slides over to the x-ray doctor, and he looks somewhat affronted-- but with his words, it's clearly on her behalf. "Then most are not true aesthetes. You are more sky than I 
shall ever be, and yet, you are visibly more human than I: your humanity is ghosted in bone and proven in the living electricity of your shining central nervous system, and I am Doctor 
Frankenstein's confused attempt at mixing landscape painting with sculpture. Yet, because this 'most' of whom you speak is universally awash in media which dictates to them what is 
beautiful and what is not, if I am wearing clothing I am considered beautiful. Do not let 'most' tell you what you are, dear Doctor."



"I will eat some food," Kelsey assures Edmond. "It's only that the two of you are being interesting." That Kelsey doesn't mind such a response in kind is indicated by another bow, this 
one from their chair and far more careful than the first one. A quick little thing, not a production.

Sterling's amusement might be catching, whether or not for the same reason. Kelsey didn't find anything odd in Edmond's first calling her beautiful, after all. "If beauty and fear weren't 
neighbors," they observe, a peripheral little wrapup to Edmond's protest, "we'd have a shortage of cathedrals."



It's possible Sterling is raising an eyebrow again, when Edmond mentions that, having another slow sip of her tea. "...I suppose you are right; but the mask is still convenient when 
attending to others. The human mind, or human remnants in a mind, do not always process... seeing the functioning parts of a body well," she does, however, chuckle. However, Kelsey 
contributes to the conversation then and she actually makes a short, abrupt sound of surprise, "Right you are. I believe a few of them even have body parts openly on display... Perhaps, 
even, the fear of the macabre and lack of awe is more of a modern thing among the general population." 
 
She's rising then, afterwards, and asking of Edmond, "May I use your washroom, please? Just point me in the direction." She'll go where he instructs. 



"Of course," Edmond says, and then looks somewhat apologetic. "I have not managed to bleach all of the stains out. The door is that one," he answers, pointing. It is, as all washrooms in 
this building, a bit of a claustrophobic nightmare. But at least there's a scented candle.

His gaze, as Sterling vanishes therein, slides slowly to Kelsey, and his eyebrows lift. "You have a calming aura about you, I hear."



Let's face it. Edmond's 'have not managed to bleach all of the stains out' is still probably the cleanest in the building.

Kelsey lowers lashes for the specific purpose of looking at Edmond through them. Looking ''flatly'' at Edmond through them. "Don't make me have to murder you with a doctor in the next 
room. It'd be so impolite."

}}