I feel like Saint Nicholas is pulling my leg

[cloistre]

[So. THE DAY HAS FINALLY ARRIVED, LONDON. It is Christmas. A light snow falls upon the city, and even the Old Ones seem quiet and non-existent against the hustle and bustle of people giving gifts or doing emergency shopping despite the chances that literally nothing is actually open right now.

But that's probably just wishful thinking. You could pretend, if you tried hard enough.

What are you doing?]

Comments

[hairpine]

Oh...!

[I don't even know you though???]

Has there been some manner of mistake, Sir? I do not believe we have met before today...

[virinosa]

That doesn't matter, Miss, it's Christmas.

[hairpine]

I --

[um
is this some kind of joke...............]

Are you certain...?

[virinosa]

I'm absolutely certain. Didn't They mention it?

You don't need to know someone to wish for them to have happiness!

1/idk

[hairpine]

[Ok give her a second to process this]

[hairpine]

[So like. People, on Christmas, or maybe in general? Do nice things for other people just because they want them to be happy? Now, she gets that part. That's legit, she does that all the time, year round! Even if sometimes she forgets what "happy" actually means, or maybe she never really knew. It doesn't matter.

But she's people?]

[hairpine]

[Wait shit does that make her like friends with this kid or something]

[hairpine]

[This person

like, an actual living breathing person, albeit one connected to the Old Ones, walked up to her and offered to be her friend.

oh my god]

done

[hairpine]

[oh my god!!!]

T-Thank you, Sir!

Re: done

[virinosa]

[...oh my goodness precious baby. He's...actually kind of surprised by her reaction.]

...I'm sure I haven't really done anything that requires thanks.

[hairpine]

You --

We are at this point friends, aren't we, Sir? Simply by choosing not to reject me, you have done more than enough! It is certainly something deserving of thanks.

[virinosa]

Ah...

[...Okay, that's it. You're getting a headpat.

Even if he has to stand on his toes to do so.]

[hairpine]

[eeeee

watch the hat though]

But, I don't believe I heard your name, Sir? My name is Elaine!

[virinosa]

Liam O'Riain. [The most Irish Irish to ever. Irish, yes.]

Were you born in London, miss Elaine?

[hairpine]

Yes! I was.

Using your name and appearance as evidence, it is safe to assume that you were born in Ireland, or that you are at least of Irish descent. ... Or perhaps your parents were simply people that were fond of the naming styles found in that country, and your freckles are the result of unique genetics and exposure to sunlight...?

[A beat, like she is only belatedly realizing that English-Irish interaction is kind of a big thing.]

Ah, but whether you are Irish or not, Mr Liam, you were my friend before this knowledge was exchanged! I am certain that you must be a wonderful person!

[virinosa]

I was born in Belfast, Miss, but it's kind of you t'say that.

[Right, you get marked in the 'to be spared' pile, congrats.]

[hairpine]

In the north...! I have yet to travel outside of London, but I have heard only pleasant things about the area.

[Which isn't a lie! No one bothers to tell her the unpleasant things. She figures them out on her own.]

How old are you, Mr Liam? Are you a student? What sort of food do you enjoy?

[And she will literally just keep going and going with questions about what he likes until he cuts her off.]

[virinosa]

Miss, please breathe.

[He holds up a hand to stop her, and...has to let out a breath. When he speaks again, his accent is suddenly, well, existent.]

Yeah, Belfast's a lovely place, if you're not caught up in the conversion conflicts. Used t'be just Catholics and Protestants, but these days it's comin' from all sides. The only real clear line is the english versus the people who actually live there.

As f'r your questions, I'm seventeen, but I don't particularly study anythin'. Used to want to go to school for painting, but there just wasn't the money for that on th' farm. I'm not terribly picky about food, neither, s'long as it's edible.

[hairpine]

Oh... yes.

[Breathing. Yeah. Sort of a big deal. She forgets sometimes. But she's quiet when he starts talking! Listening with rapt attention;]

How interesting...! I am eighteen. I attend King's -- there, on the Thames -- due to my father's good graces. He is an instructor working in their history department, I believe, though I only seldom see him. I did once see him in the halls, but he was rather indisposed at the time, and we were unable to speak -- ah, I digress. My current field of study is political economy, but I do enjoy learning of all things! I have no attachment to the department itself.

Do you still paint, Mr Liam?