![[sticky entry]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/entry/sticky_entry.png){kind=small}
"Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Irene Adler. I'm not sure why you've called instead of texted, but by all means, if texting instead might be an option, I'll certainly get back to you all the faster.
Otherwise, you know what to do."
There were very few things Irene enjoyed more, truly, than a good, comfortable lie-in. Particularly one with company, of course, but that came with its own, 'sometimes the people we love have terrible habits and like getting out of bed promptly,' problems.
(And sometimes that just necessitated the formation of a compelling argument before caffeine, was all.)
Which was why, when Irene barely stirred into consciousness at the first tickle of sunlight this morning, she fairly immediately snuggled right into Amaya. Lazy morning time could be precious, cuddling could be resisted (though doing so in earnest seemed to be a thing of the distant past, for the most part), and arguments -- non-verbal ones, at least, in the form of curling her body into Amaya's and draping a leg to keep everyone snugged up -- needed to be made.
Of course, had she made a verbal argument for staying in bed all morning, it would have been immediately apparent that today was no ordinary Wednesday.
Surely that discovery would be incredibly welcome, and perfectly fine with everyone in this bed once it was made.
[for that gal who LOVES truth day!!!]
(And sometimes that just necessitated the formation of a compelling argument before caffeine, was all.)
Which was why, when Irene barely stirred into consciousness at the first tickle of sunlight this morning, she fairly immediately snuggled right into Amaya. Lazy morning time could be precious, cuddling could be resisted (though doing so in earnest seemed to be a thing of the distant past, for the most part), and arguments -- non-verbal ones, at least, in the form of curling her body into Amaya's and draping a leg to keep everyone snugged up -- needed to be made.
Of course, had she made a verbal argument for staying in bed all morning, it would have been immediately apparent that today was no ordinary Wednesday.
Surely that discovery would be incredibly welcome, and perfectly fine with everyone in this bed once it was made.
[for that gal who LOVES truth day!!!]
Rome, Italy - Monday
Mar. 18th, 2024 08:37 amSo, in the end, Irene's incredibly convincing arguments of, 'Why don't we take a trip somewhere with a little culture and also where I won't come back with lice?' had resulted in actual travel negotiations, and a subsequent set of portals to a destination rich in culture, history, weaponry, and food. (And so help her, Irene would pay a guy as many euro as it took to get some arancini on a stick, at some point.)
Shortly before noon (Italian time, anyway -- it was still early morning in Fandom, as time zones were a fickle mistress even without involving portal nonsense), Amaya and Irene were checked into a hotel in Monti that met everyone's (ahem) standards, specifically chosen for its proximity to -- well. The incredibly, incredibly hard to miss ancient arena in the heart of the city, whose shadow they were now -- unavoidably, again due to its size -- standing in.
"So there's obviously loads to do." Irene was consulting her mobile, as though she needed the refresher more than she actually did. "If you fancy a museum, there's plenty. And if you want to try to catch a glimpse of the Pope or visit the Vatican, it's just over that-a-way, but I'll have to change." The Vatican remained, tragically, demanding as far as covered-up fashion, and Irene had dressed for sunny tourism today, from her sunglasses down to her -- yes, really -- flat shoes.
Though, of course, the necklace she was wearing was mostly because she'd just gotten it as a birthday gift. From someone. She had no idea whom, of course, but she thought she'd wear it a whole lot for Amaya anyway. You know? Maybe it would make her jealous or something!
"Or we could take a look at that," she added, jerking her thumb at the Colosseum as though she'd barely noticed it, and hiding a smile poorly.
[for the other birthday girl on holiday with her!]
Shortly before noon (Italian time, anyway -- it was still early morning in Fandom, as time zones were a fickle mistress even without involving portal nonsense), Amaya and Irene were checked into a hotel in Monti that met everyone's (ahem) standards, specifically chosen for its proximity to -- well. The incredibly, incredibly hard to miss ancient arena in the heart of the city, whose shadow they were now -- unavoidably, again due to its size -- standing in.
"So there's obviously loads to do." Irene was consulting her mobile, as though she needed the refresher more than she actually did. "If you fancy a museum, there's plenty. And if you want to try to catch a glimpse of the Pope or visit the Vatican, it's just over that-a-way, but I'll have to change." The Vatican remained, tragically, demanding as far as covered-up fashion, and Irene had dressed for sunny tourism today, from her sunglasses down to her -- yes, really -- flat shoes.
Though, of course, the necklace she was wearing was mostly because she'd just gotten it as a birthday gift. From someone. She had no idea whom, of course, but she thought she'd wear it a whole lot for Amaya anyway. You know? Maybe it would make her jealous or something!
"Or we could take a look at that," she added, jerking her thumb at the Colosseum as though she'd barely noticed it, and hiding a smile poorly.
[for the other birthday girl on holiday with her!]
A Street in Belgravia, London | Saturday
Dec. 23rd, 2023 10:05 amIrene hadn't realized how much she'd missed her city until she was back in it.
And while she kept reminding herself, lest she get swept away in it all, that this wasn't her London...you know, it was close enough. Everything seemed to be right where she'd left it, even if this was a different universe, technically. It threatened to hurt, when she caught the Eye or the Spire or the Bridge in her sights, and it probably would later. But for right now, it was just...warm, and exciting, and like coming home.
And, admittedly, a large chunk of that might be the company. Irene hadn't said so and likely wouldn't, but without Amaya to show around the city -- and, let's face it, at least metaphorically hold her hand a bit -- she wasn't sure whether this trip would have been pleasant for her. It might not have even occurred to her to try without the option to bring Amaya, honestly.
As walkable as the city was, they'd already hit the Christmas market at Hyde Park (as though Irene would allow them to visit without Amaya getting a good look at local modern craftsmanship in addition to the centuries-old architecture), and as though her feet had a mind of her own, they'd made their way to Belgravia from there.
Which, really, was what Irene had come here for, wasn't it? This was going to be the hardest part.
"If you tilt your head a bit, you'll see Big Ben from here," Irene offered, pointing a gloved hand to indicate a sliver between the posh rowhouses they were passing, where the clock tower could be seen. "Or, well, technically Ben's the bell; the tower itself is named Elizabeth, for our last Queen."
Stalling, so she didn't have to explain why she'd taken them down some random, wealthy-looking street? Psh.
( taking a walk down memory lane )
[preplayed with the ever-lovely![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
special_rabbit. NFB, NFI, OOC welcome, and to all a good night.]
And while she kept reminding herself, lest she get swept away in it all, that this wasn't her London...you know, it was close enough. Everything seemed to be right where she'd left it, even if this was a different universe, technically. It threatened to hurt, when she caught the Eye or the Spire or the Bridge in her sights, and it probably would later. But for right now, it was just...warm, and exciting, and like coming home.
And, admittedly, a large chunk of that might be the company. Irene hadn't said so and likely wouldn't, but without Amaya to show around the city -- and, let's face it, at least metaphorically hold her hand a bit -- she wasn't sure whether this trip would have been pleasant for her. It might not have even occurred to her to try without the option to bring Amaya, honestly.
As walkable as the city was, they'd already hit the Christmas market at Hyde Park (as though Irene would allow them to visit without Amaya getting a good look at local modern craftsmanship in addition to the centuries-old architecture), and as though her feet had a mind of her own, they'd made their way to Belgravia from there.
Which, really, was what Irene had come here for, wasn't it? This was going to be the hardest part.
"If you tilt your head a bit, you'll see Big Ben from here," Irene offered, pointing a gloved hand to indicate a sliver between the posh rowhouses they were passing, where the clock tower could be seen. "Or, well, technically Ben's the bell; the tower itself is named Elizabeth, for our last Queen."
Stalling, so she didn't have to explain why she'd taken them down some random, wealthy-looking street? Psh.
( taking a walk down memory lane )
[preplayed with the ever-lovely
special_rabbit. NFB, NFI, OOC welcome, and to all a good night.]Apartment Above Dite's | Saturday Morning
Nov. 4th, 2023 11:15 amIt was starting to get cold enough that lingering in bed was tempting for reasons other than...well, lingering in bed, and on lazy weekend mornings, it was easy to just sort of find oneself shifting the concept of bed out of the bedroom itself, too.
It was also easy to take advantage of certain parties' certain needs in the morning and use that distraction for one's own purposes. Which is to unnecessarily-cryptically say that Irene had fully availed herself of the fact that Amaya was always a little fuzzy before coffee to idly turn on some footage she'd DVR'd some time ago and meant to really peruse when she had more time.
And look, here they were -- now with mugs of (respectively) coffee and tea, with a blanket -- because it was cold, of course, and see that above comment about bed vibes not staying in the bedroom.
"Oh, good, it's a ready-to-wear collection," Irene commented idly, because the first show -- Marie Adam-Leenaerdt-- was, you know. Not that.
[for the modded blacksmith!]
It was also easy to take advantage of certain parties' certain needs in the morning and use that distraction for one's own purposes. Which is to unnecessarily-cryptically say that Irene had fully availed herself of the fact that Amaya was always a little fuzzy before coffee to idly turn on some footage she'd DVR'd some time ago and meant to really peruse when she had more time.
And look, here they were -- now with mugs of (respectively) coffee and tea, with a blanket -- because it was cold, of course, and see that above comment about bed vibes not staying in the bedroom.
"Oh, good, it's a ready-to-wear collection," Irene commented idly, because the first show -- Marie Adam-Leenaerdt-- was, you know. Not that.
[for the modded blacksmith!]
Canyon Brewing, Queenstown | Evening
Oct. 19th, 2023 09:02 amWas it a date, strictly speaking, if you'd spent the entire day together? Irene fancied she'd found another loophole there, though she was also much too pleased (and, admittedly, a bit too tired) to dwell on any psycho-romantic victories achieved this Thursday. There had been a wee spot of hiking early on, because apparently that was just the done thing around here, followed by what Irene firmly felt was the vacation find of the century: real-deal, not-for-children go-karting.
Not only had she been able to nose around the big muscley fast cars she'd never be able to have on the island (it was beside the point that Irene didn't really know how to drive a big muscley fast car, nor had she ever driven a vehicle on the right side of the road at all), but it had -- as she'd hoped -- given Amaya more than a little opportunity to get a good look at some small engines, and if Irene knew anything (and she thought she did), there were hopefully some figurative, inspired gears turning now.
And now, dinner at a brewery, chosen perhaps for the sheer number of foods on sticks on offer. Irene had considered going back to the room and changing out of the jeans and trainers and ponytail she'd been sporting all day, and into something more -- well, her, and seeking out something with linen tablecloths. But there was something more than a little appealing in just staying with the same sort of vibe they'd enjoyed all day, wasn't there? (And there was a tiny, secret part of her that was always pleased and flattered and warmed by the way Amaya's attention didn't exactly...evaporate, when she was dressed like this. She loved her armor, but maybe she didn't always need it.)
"Have you been anywhere they don't do food on sticks, full stop?" Irene wondered, once they were settled at a table with drinks. It seemed completely impossible, now that Irene'd had her eyes opened to the ubiquity of be-sticked food, as long as you took a liberal enough approach to the concept.
[for the blacksmith I've modded all over this post.]
Not only had she been able to nose around the big muscley fast cars she'd never be able to have on the island (it was beside the point that Irene didn't really know how to drive a big muscley fast car, nor had she ever driven a vehicle on the right side of the road at all), but it had -- as she'd hoped -- given Amaya more than a little opportunity to get a good look at some small engines, and if Irene knew anything (and she thought she did), there were hopefully some figurative, inspired gears turning now.
And now, dinner at a brewery, chosen perhaps for the sheer number of foods on sticks on offer. Irene had considered going back to the room and changing out of the jeans and trainers and ponytail she'd been sporting all day, and into something more -- well, her, and seeking out something with linen tablecloths. But there was something more than a little appealing in just staying with the same sort of vibe they'd enjoyed all day, wasn't there? (And there was a tiny, secret part of her that was always pleased and flattered and warmed by the way Amaya's attention didn't exactly...evaporate, when she was dressed like this. She loved her armor, but maybe she didn't always need it.)
"Have you been anywhere they don't do food on sticks, full stop?" Irene wondered, once they were settled at a table with drinks. It seemed completely impossible, now that Irene'd had her eyes opened to the ubiquity of be-sticked food, as long as you took a liberal enough approach to the concept.
[for the blacksmith I've modded all over this post.]
Mark your calendars, hold your horses, and clutch your pearls, everyone: Irene Adler was appearing in public without any makeup. Her face was bare from the facial she'd treated herself to, and her hair was blown out prettily in a way she certainly hoped would hold all the way through Friday night. Worthy sacrifices had been made in the name of looking stunning in the future.
But Irene treated herself to these things basically monthly. It wasn't particularly newsworthy. What was much more interesting to her, even if it had taken about eleven years for the stylist to actually produce results (which wasn't really her fault, Irene supposed), was Amaya's hair.
Irene was so glad she'd insisted upon this. Even if, again, she would never had said a peep again if Amaya had been resistant to the idea of using a treatment or eight to shift her hair from its unruly mess into something smoother and tidier, the fact that she hadn't been resistant was a little victory all unto its own.
"Any particular color you're thinking this time around?" she asked as she led the way into yet another little boutique in Baltimore where she seemed to know everyone. (Probably because she did.)
[for the long-associated friendly peer, and nfb for distance, naturally]
But Irene treated herself to these things basically monthly. It wasn't particularly newsworthy. What was much more interesting to her, even if it had taken about eleven years for the stylist to actually produce results (which wasn't really her fault, Irene supposed), was Amaya's hair.
Irene was so glad she'd insisted upon this. Even if, again, she would never had said a peep again if Amaya had been resistant to the idea of using a treatment or eight to shift her hair from its unruly mess into something smoother and tidier, the fact that she hadn't been resistant was a little victory all unto its own.
"Any particular color you're thinking this time around?" she asked as she led the way into yet another little boutique in Baltimore where she seemed to know everyone. (Probably because she did.)
[for the long-associated friendly peer, and nfb for distance, naturally]
Okay, so now Irene had had the perfect sex pollen week, thank you.
Yesterday had been quite...busy, really, and had stretched not only through all of Friday, but well into the earliest hours of Saturday as well. And what a note to end the week on!
Irene could tell, as soon as she woke, that the pollen wasn't affecting her anymore. She was still herself, but that persistent itch had left.
That was not the only thing Irene noticed upon waking.
"Oh, hello there," she murmured, sitting up and surveying her own rather drastically different body. "Been a minute, this one."
Great morning to wake up with not one but two friends, too, in light of this change.
[for the two who slept over!]
Yesterday had been quite...busy, really, and had stretched not only through all of Friday, but well into the earliest hours of Saturday as well. And what a note to end the week on!
Irene could tell, as soon as she woke, that the pollen wasn't affecting her anymore. She was still herself, but that persistent itch had left.
That was not the only thing Irene noticed upon waking.
"Oh, hello there," she murmured, sitting up and surveying her own rather drastically different body. "Been a minute, this one."
Great morning to wake up with not one but two friends, too, in light of this change.
[for the two who slept over!]
Apartment Above Dite's | Friday Morning
Feb. 17th, 2023 08:35 amIrene had had such a nice week.
She had historically enjoyed pollen weeks, but this one in particular had been just wonderful. Not just the sex – of course the sex was most of it – but the tug-of-war, the flirting, the sleepovers without argument…
Best week ever. Best sex pollen week, ever, even! Well – almost. It was wonderful, she was just about deliriously happy, she (with help) had broken at least five toys. But – Irene had also seen quite neatly, she thought, to that almost, when she'd padded out of bed this morning for sustenance and snagged not only a dressing gown (for warmth more than modesty), but her mobile.
"Provisions," she called to Amaya, emerging from the kitchen with two mugs (one black coffee, one slightly-doctored tea, and no pretenses that she'd run into a confused barista in the kitchen.) One could not keep up the volume of work they'd been doing, much less add more thanks to the text Irene had sent, without at least morning beverages.
[for ~two~, and heading predictably NWS!]
She had historically enjoyed pollen weeks, but this one in particular had been just wonderful. Not just the sex – of course the sex was most of it – but the tug-of-war, the flirting, the sleepovers without argument…
Best week ever. Best sex pollen week, ever, even! Well – almost. It was wonderful, she was just about deliriously happy, she (with help) had broken at least five toys. But – Irene had also seen quite neatly, she thought, to that almost, when she'd padded out of bed this morning for sustenance and snagged not only a dressing gown (for warmth more than modesty), but her mobile.
"Provisions," she called to Amaya, emerging from the kitchen with two mugs (one black coffee, one slightly-doctored tea, and no pretenses that she'd run into a confused barista in the kitchen.) One could not keep up the volume of work they'd been doing, much less add more thanks to the text Irene had sent, without at least morning beverages.
[for ~two~, and heading predictably NWS!]
No one had drunk themselves under a table in milkshakes, or cut off their own leg with a haphazard axe throw, or even turned themselves into a rabbit in a clearly deliberate move. No, no, the day had finally arrived, and Irene was just about as happy as she possibly could be.
She would be encouraging multiple stops, of course, but she also was more than intelligent enough to know that this would probably all benefit from a nice slow start, in a nice quiet boutique where Irene already knew the owner and could easily bribe people to mostly leave them alone.
"Mmmm," she sighed upon entrance to the store, clearly thrilled to be back in her element. "I do so love the smell of silk in the afternoon."
An unnecessary, silly comment, of course -- silk generally did not have much of a scent -- but then again, Irene so rarely had shopping companions to whom she could make unnecessary, silly comments, so allow her this indulgence.
[for the SHOPPING BUDDY!!!! and NFB due to distance!]
She would be encouraging multiple stops, of course, but she also was more than intelligent enough to know that this would probably all benefit from a nice slow start, in a nice quiet boutique where Irene already knew the owner and could easily bribe people to mostly leave them alone.
"Mmmm," she sighed upon entrance to the store, clearly thrilled to be back in her element. "I do so love the smell of silk in the afternoon."
An unnecessary, silly comment, of course -- silk generally did not have much of a scent -- but then again, Irene so rarely had shopping companions to whom she could make unnecessary, silly comments, so allow her this indulgence.
[for the SHOPPING BUDDY!!!! and NFB due to distance!]
A Bar in Baltimore | Friday Evening
Mar. 25th, 2022 07:19 amAfter this much fanfare and build up, it only made sense that Irene would work to make sure she got this date -- yes, here in narrative, where there was no one to argue, she felt free to call it such -- with Amaya right. Or as right as she could, anyway. So Irene had sourced a bar on the mainland that was both classy enough for her tastes, but had a casual vibe and enough bartenders with their sleeves up that she was fairly sure she wouldn't frighten her companion off with atmosphere alone.
Irene'd also toned down her own everything a tad, though that was an acquiescence she usually made on dates of the non-professional nature -- her hair was loose and curly, her makeup was less intense than usual,
she'd opted for a comfortable McQueen top that she knew would bring out her eyes, and she'd been saving these leather leggings for a special occasion. (Would've been better if that special occasion had fallen not quite so near the tail end of leather pants season, but such was life.)
Once they were settled at a cozy little table -- no, no, not the bar. Irene hadn't palmed a bill to the host to be sat at the bar, thank you -- and put in drink orders, she let go of a little bit of tension she hadn't quite realized she'd been holding onto. Kind of felt like this would never actually happen, and now that they were here, even if they'd taken the long road, it felt like an accomplishment in and of itself.
"I shall have to visit Kitty and Eric's bars both to make up for taking our business off the island, but this is nice," she commented lightly, and it was true because the bar was, indeed, incredibly moddable. "Quiet. The lack of karaoke adds something, probably." And axes?
[for the daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate!]
Irene'd also toned down her own everything a tad, though that was an acquiescence she usually made on dates of the non-professional nature -- her hair was loose and curly, her makeup was less intense than usual,
she'd opted for a comfortable McQueen top that she knew would bring out her eyes, and she'd been saving these leather leggings for a special occasion. (Would've been better if that special occasion had fallen not quite so near the tail end of leather pants season, but such was life.)
Once they were settled at a cozy little table -- no, no, not the bar. Irene hadn't palmed a bill to the host to be sat at the bar, thank you -- and put in drink orders, she let go of a little bit of tension she hadn't quite realized she'd been holding onto. Kind of felt like this would never actually happen, and now that they were here, even if they'd taken the long road, it felt like an accomplishment in and of itself.
"I shall have to visit Kitty and Eric's bars both to make up for taking our business off the island, but this is nice," she commented lightly, and it was true because the bar was, indeed, incredibly moddable. "Quiet. The lack of karaoke adds something, probably." And axes?
[for the daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate!]
Apartment Above Dite's | Tuesday Morning
Feb. 15th, 2022 08:06 amIrene, despite what you might think, was not really all about Valentine's Day herself in a personal capacity. It was yet another holiday that tended to bring out her sentimental side, and as everyone knew, that was better squashed than embraced.
So, while she had sent flowers yesterday, she hadn't been upset to not receive any. That was just how things seemed to be going here in her new life, and that was okay. (Now, would she continue that opinion when she heard about the whole forge situation? Probably not.)
But what she had had show up at her door had been unexpected, utterly delightful, and was still asleep here in Irene's bed with her. There were a variety of scarves in a trail from the front door to the bedroom, having been removed from their strategic arrangement on Margo's body rather quickly after her arrival. (Irene was still a little impressed, honestly, with the scarf placement alone. No pins! Magic was, as always, the best.)
It had shaped up to be an all right Valentine's Day. And now, there was a little post-Valentine's cuddling. Irene would totally blame it on being asleep if anyone got prickly about it, though.
[for the lady who is mentioned in bed with her, and some SP because ugh Tuesday.]
So, while she had sent flowers yesterday, she hadn't been upset to not receive any. That was just how things seemed to be going here in her new life, and that was okay. (Now, would she continue that opinion when she heard about the whole forge situation? Probably not.)
But what she had had show up at her door had been unexpected, utterly delightful, and was still asleep here in Irene's bed with her. There were a variety of scarves in a trail from the front door to the bedroom, having been removed from their strategic arrangement on Margo's body rather quickly after her arrival. (Irene was still a little impressed, honestly, with the scarf placement alone. No pins! Magic was, as always, the best.)
It had shaped up to be an all right Valentine's Day. And now, there was a little post-Valentine's cuddling. Irene would totally blame it on being asleep if anyone got prickly about it, though.
[for the lady who is mentioned in bed with her, and some SP because ugh Tuesday.]
ooc: info post, 2021 revival edition!
Jul. 26th, 2021 10:54 amJust a quick and dirty (not that dirty) info post, since my girl here is technically returning!
( the canon and the woman )
( the shop! )
( the player )
Questions? Nudity?
( the canon and the woman )
( the shop! )
( the player )
Questions? Nudity?
Office #7 [Tuesday afternoon]
May. 12th, 2015 09:25 amIrene had holed up in her office today with the intention of doing some research for this week's class, which -- as usual -- meant that she was browsing things that most people probably wouldn't consider especially safe for work.
...and maybe she was taking a few pictures of herself and uploading them to that site that could guess her age, just when she had breaks. She'd gotten 22 last week; if she could get it to go lower, she'd be quite pleased.
[door and post open, la.]
...and maybe she was taking a few pictures of herself and uploading them to that site that could guess her age, just when she had breaks. She'd gotten 22 last week; if she could get it to go lower, she'd be quite pleased.
[door and post open, la.]
Office #7 [Monday afternoon]
Apr. 13th, 2015 02:22 pmIrene was slowly adjusting to being followed around by a seven year-old, but whenever this was over, she was going to indulge in a very stiff drink and a very hot bath, minimally. The whole weekend had confirmed a few things for her -- one, that she was not cut out for motherhood (though she did think she'd make a wonderful Fun Aunt Irene, since children weren't the worst when they were temporary), and two, that she and Sherlock had no place actually trying to be a couple in any sort of universe, at all.
Not if this was the result of such a union.
As soon as they'd arrived at her office, Irene had resigned herself to a non-spinning chair and let Hamish wear himself out with that for a bit. "Did you know," he asked her, using his little feet (in their adorable little Cole Haans -- yes, he was very much her child), "that the reason people get dizzy is because of our hair?"
"Is it, darling? How does that work?"
"Dad says it is due to the nerves at the end of each of our hairs, and that when they're disturbed all at once it throws off our equil -- equal -- "
"Equilibrium." Trust Sherlock to casually use five-syllable words around the primary schoolers.
"That. So you must get really dizzy, Mummy, 'cause you have more hair than Dad or me!"
And that was when Irene decided to click around on her computer to find him a little puzzle or something to do, because while a very bright seven year-old made for an interesting conversationalist to a point, it wasn't especially sustainable.
[open door/post!]
Not if this was the result of such a union.
As soon as they'd arrived at her office, Irene had resigned herself to a non-spinning chair and let Hamish wear himself out with that for a bit. "Did you know," he asked her, using his little feet (in their adorable little Cole Haans -- yes, he was very much her child), "that the reason people get dizzy is because of our hair?"
"Is it, darling? How does that work?"
"Dad says it is due to the nerves at the end of each of our hairs, and that when they're disturbed all at once it throws off our equil -- equal -- "
"Equilibrium." Trust Sherlock to casually use five-syllable words around the primary schoolers.
"That. So you must get really dizzy, Mummy, 'cause you have more hair than Dad or me!"
And that was when Irene decided to click around on her computer to find him a little puzzle or something to do, because while a very bright seven year-old made for an interesting conversationalist to a point, it wasn't especially sustainable.
[open door/post!]
Normally, Irene would not be caught dead in any place that had a vague, lingering smell of soft pretzels. But she also hadn't especially felt like taking a portal (or other, more conventional means of travel) to New York or an alternate London or Paris for her usual habit of dropping a small mortgage on a new dress, either, so a mall it was.
And after all, shopping was shopping, even if she could see a Claire's (ugh) from within the department store she'd dragged Kitty.
"Want to make bets on whether we'll go somewhere warm for the spring trip?" Irene asked, eyeing some obviously newly-displayed swimsuits. "Because I'd really love to invest in something new to laze about prettily in."
[for she who is narratively mentioned!]
And after all, shopping was shopping, even if she could see a Claire's (ugh) from within the department store she'd dragged Kitty.
"Want to make bets on whether we'll go somewhere warm for the spring trip?" Irene asked, eyeing some obviously newly-displayed swimsuits. "Because I'd really love to invest in something new to laze about prettily in."
[for she who is narratively mentioned!]
Office Hours [Saturday]
Sep. 27th, 2014 09:29 amIrene was, naturally, not used to coming in to her office on a Saturday, but she was here and in fairly bright spirits all the same. It wasn't every day that the one and only person from home who knew you still lived and breathed actually turned up to spend the weekend with you. (There was more to it than that, of course, and that was perhaps part of the reason why Irene was in such a good mood today. She'd never tell, though.)
In any case, she was in her office today with a cup of coffee and any and all paraphernalia out of sight. You're welcome, kiddos.
In any case, she was in her office today with a cup of coffee and any and all paraphernalia out of sight. You're welcome, kiddos.
MCA #10 [Friday evening]
Sep. 26th, 2014 12:15 pmIrene was getting more and more used to attending school functions, and feeling increasingly less like some sort of chaperone from the 50s. It was almost...nice, being a teacher, going to events thrown by the school, settling in. It was different here from how she had used to live, yes, but it was...quieter. She was feeling more secure here in Fandom by the day.
But that feeling of security meant that Irene wasn't quite as nervous and sharp as she used to be, and she felt comfortable doing things like trying to open her apartment door while answering a text. Distraction was a luxury she could afford here in Fandom, after all. She bumped the door open with her hip as her thumb danced over the keyboard, already thinking eagerly ahead to drawing herself a bath and settling in for the evening with a good book.
[expecting one!]
But that feeling of security meant that Irene wasn't quite as nervous and sharp as she used to be, and she felt comfortable doing things like trying to open her apartment door while answering a text. Distraction was a luxury she could afford here in Fandom, after all. She bumped the door open with her hip as her thumb danced over the keyboard, already thinking eagerly ahead to drawing herself a bath and settling in for the evening with a good book.
[expecting one!]
Office Hours [Wednesday]
Sep. 24th, 2014 09:42 amIrene didn't exactly need to research for her class, so to speak. She had plenty of practical experience in most areas that her students had questions about -- or at least, she reliably knew where to find the answers.
But they were nearly out of the 'sex' portion, and about to move into the 'dating' bit, and that had always been...well, a bit less of a strong suit. It wasn't that she was bad at dating, of course. It was just hard to make a relationship work with her particular occupation.
So she was idly poking around on websites trying to see whether she could glean anything in the way of dating tips that were actually useful -- three minute ventures aside, she'd been out of the game for awhile.
She'd left her door open, though, mostly in case something more entertaining came by.
[open, with typical work SP!]
But they were nearly out of the 'sex' portion, and about to move into the 'dating' bit, and that had always been...well, a bit less of a strong suit. It wasn't that she was bad at dating, of course. It was just hard to make a relationship work with her particular occupation.
So she was idly poking around on websites trying to see whether she could glean anything in the way of dating tips that were actually useful -- three minute ventures aside, she'd been out of the game for awhile.
She'd left her door open, though, mostly in case something more entertaining came by.
[open, with typical work SP!]
Office Hours [Wednesday]
Sep. 3rd, 2014 09:37 amIrene had never had an office, not like this. Sure, she'd had her home office, where she'd mostly maintained her website (the bits she didn't outsource, anyway), but that had mostly been a glorified boudoir with a laptop.
Not, of course, that this wasn't as well, or wouldn't be. Irene was tucked up in her chair with this season's Jonathan Adler catalog -- no relation -- and eagerly thumbing through the pages and occasionally marking lamps she liked.
If there was anything odd about her today, really, it was that she had a simple, black umbrella open and stuck through the back of her chair. The reason behind that was simple, of course -- there was already a pool of ice water on the floor (she'd taken off her shoes and tucked up her feet) from one occurrence, and she wasn't going to sit through a second day of having wet hair and arranging dry cleaning, thank you.
[open door, open office hours, sp likely!]
Not, of course, that this wasn't as well, or wouldn't be. Irene was tucked up in her chair with this season's Jonathan Adler catalog -- no relation -- and eagerly thumbing through the pages and occasionally marking lamps she liked.
If there was anything odd about her today, really, it was that she had a simple, black umbrella open and stuck through the back of her chair. The reason behind that was simple, of course -- there was already a pool of ice water on the floor (she'd taken off her shoes and tucked up her feet) from one occurrence, and she wasn't going to sit through a second day of having wet hair and arranging dry cleaning, thank you.
[open door, open office hours, sp likely!]
