Haakon and Josephine's escort made his way from their rooms respectively and headed back down the stairs. He had promised them a few moments to clean themselves and that he would send some minor refreshments. This wasn't something he was normally charged with, being the legal representation for the base, but it wouldn't hurt to take care of it himself. He figured after the trip to the prison and dealing with the corporal as their escort they could use a little break from the loud mouthed man. The corporal seemed to mean well enough but how the Lord Major had not seen fit to cut out his tongue by now was beyond him. Apparently the Lord Major had reserves of patience that few outside of Sainthood possessed.
"I am not surprised that you have found such work George. You seemed to be able to find a way continue on. I dare say there has to be a bit of Brit in you. Keep calm and carry on as we say," Peter said tapping his cane to the ground a bit.
George shook his head slightly. As he spoke it was clear he was answering the words of the Lord Major but speaking more or less to Peter. This seemed to be the way most of the conversation went. When he spoke directly to anyone but Peter, whom he knew well, his sentences were nearly nonexistent, and his words short. Yet when he spoke to Peter he was able to articulate himself very well even despite the gravel in his voice.
"MMm, battle wounds, we become numb to. Many wounds are hidden beneath the clothing, mmm or removed completely," George said as he looked over towards Peters leg before turning his head away.
It was clear he was referring to the many that came home injured but were able to keep going on in society. Peter was obviously injured but it was covered by pants, others had lost limbs but those could be hidden under clothing or removed completely. George's injury was different. Half a tin face, covering wounds beneath.
"This..." he said as he tapped the face plate,
"keeps the carnage of war on the front lines and people are not expecting the front lines to walk right passed them in the middle of peace time." Peter cocked a brow at the analysis of people's reactions to Georges face plate. The more he thought about it the more it made sense. During a war people expected to see injuries and death, especially if one was on the battle field or in a veterans hospital. Yet walking down the street, they were not prepared to see it staring them right in the face, literally. Unmoving, unalive, blank cold tin glare in their directions.
"And so the war continues for you..." Peter said quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck. A slight grunt and nod came from George.
Looking over towards the Lord Major, George lifted his head some and changed the subject. He didn't want to continue with that part of the conversation. For him the war would never be over.
"Yes..mmm, lemon."
Vera Munn
Location: Egyptian Museum: Her Office
Leading Mahendra, Mr. Khons walked to his office and showed the man inside before motioning over towards a seat in front of his desk. Making his way around the desk he sat himself down and removed his fez, setting it on the desk top lightly. "So, if you have gotten passed Ahkmeds initial overview I can easily know that you are well qualified for this position. The look he gave me tells me you are vastly over qualified. So please, tell me why you wish to work here instead of elsewhere? A junior position for someone with your background does seem like more than a simple step back to regroup, but a run back to change courses completely."
Ahkmed smiled over to Mosi. "If you wouldn't mind, I would be happy to escort you to the demonstration this evening. It has been some time since I have been able to visit my old friend and this would give me the perfect excuse to. We could meet at the front of the museum around 6 pm tonight? Would give you plenty of time to explore the museum, perhaps check out some of the local vendors to eat, and I would be very neglectful if I didn't suggest you at least changing into something you would mind having damaged or dirtied. Last time he conducted a demonstration he did call on one or two people to try their hand in front of the fire," the man suggested.
Watching Vera walk over towards where the man had gone, Neema turned her attention back over towards Nora and rose a brow. "Nora?" she asked, it had been a bit longer than one would expect a reply and Neema wondered if Nora was thinking on something. "The tiles? And what you found?" she added, nudging sightly as she pointed over to where Vera had mentioned in the office.
Shaking her head slightly, Vera said nothing to start. Just remaining where she was, leaning against William and taking a deep and nervous breath.
"No, I am not," she stated through trembling lips. She wasn't okay. He had her mind all in an uproar and she didn't like that. She had been so ready to tear him a new one, to rip into him like there was no tomorrow and yet here she was, falling over herself once again. She had always been clumsy yet when he was around it was ten times worse. As if there was nothing that could stop her from falling. She could be seated, perfectly still, and still find a way to fall out of her chair.
"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked. Her dark eyes coming up to his slowly, she still hadn't moved from his arms, no effort to right herself. What was the point? She would just trip again and did she really even want to move at that point? What was coming over her? He vexed her so, caused her blood to boil and her pressure to rise. Why on Earthw ould she want to remain in his arms?
"Why now?"
Aziza Tarek
Location: Gheit el Idda: Aziza's Home
Aziza smiled warmly towards Harry and giggled a bit.
"Then let's be on our way, would you mind?" she asked as she pointed over towards her bags. She had one of them in her hand, there was another that needed to carried down as well.
"Shall we?" she asked before lacing her arm through his and waiting on him to grab her other bag. If he didn't she would take it herself but something told her he would be the gentleman that she had come attached to in a rather deep way quickly over these last couple of days.
Making her way down the stairs and around the corner she found herself in front of a small private stall where residents of the building could keep their horses if they owned one. There were several being kept there but as Aziza made herself seen it was rather obvious which one was Dralh. The horse neighing loudly and jerking his head up and down with excitement as Aziza smiled. He was a stunning
stallion. Grey with black mane, a pure Arabian, who stood over fifteen hands in height.
"Dralh," she said as she set her bag down and walked over to his stall. Picking up the saddle set over the side of his stall she got to work on saddling him. The saddle wasn't like most. It was obviously different than the standard ones. Sleeker, with odd placements of added materials. She worked quickly and ran her hand down the front of Dralh's face, giving him some much needed attention.
After a moment she grabbed her bags and attached them to the back of the saddle before gathering the folds of her skirt and mounting the horse rather effortlessly.
"Would you open the gate?" she asked as she took the reigns and looked down at the small gate keeping her and her horse separated from the rest of the city.
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