oi
Location: Marlene’s room, McKinnon Farm Time: Early morning, February 17th Status: Closed, for: @horseheartedmarlene
Bran kicked in the door.
Well, she elbowed the knob down and then used her foot to push the door open, but it was still, in her opinion, the least gentle way to get rid of this thing that stood between her and Marlene McKinnon.
The reason why she wasn’t using her hands for the knob -- apart from the fact that knobs and her hands were generally not very well acquainted for a reason -- was that she was holding a tray. On it a breakfast, a potion, and even a napkin. She’d thought of the latter herself.
“Miss Mardy, wakey wakey, eggs and-...” She looked at the porridge on the tray, which was, unfortunately and by all definition, the least liquid of all foods on there. “Well, point is, ‘s time to wake up.” She put the tray rather noisily on the desk where, the previous nights, a wide range of Emmeline’s potions had stood, then swiped the curtains open with her wand.
“I don’t know why Alarmic thought he could make me bring that shit up, like I’m some of Vance’s minions, but the fucker was out by the time I got there so don’t you dare thank me, I’m not doing this for you, I just don’t want good food go to waste.” To express her annoyance, she made sure to put the stuff from the tray down on the small bedside table one by one, noisily.
It was only when the last item -- a glass of orange juice -- was held out directly to Marlene and not taken, that she spared Marlene herself a glance. She was still sleeping. “Oi,” Bran said, and knocked her boots against the bed frame, “it’s long past sun-up, even the bloody horses are milked, why are you still down?”
She stared, orange juice still extended, and for one brief but excruciatingly long-appearing moment, her eyes searched for movements on Marlene’s chest, her heart sinking deep. “Oi,” she then repeated, and kicked the bed again, and this time Marlene stirred.
