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[stand_unshaken]

 

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[thebubblyone]

The breath, she thinks she could probably diagnose, but she's aware that spiking people's drinks with healing potions is...bad practice? Inadvisable? Maybe?

"My pleasure. What have you been up to?" she wonders, picking up two trays and passing him one.

[stand_unshaken]

"Spending most of my time writing down what I remember from that breach," he tells her. "Somethin' to keep the mind occupied. Yourself?"

[thebubblyone]

"Checking on my sister every now and then, getting back in the rhythm of shifts in the infirmary, knitting," Hilda says, almost apologetic. "Not exactly thrilling, I know."

And she should be checking on Entrapta, now she's feeling back up to it.

[stand_unshaken]

"Most of life moves by slow like that, and then all of a sudden it's mowing you down like a train," he says. He understands.

They pass the big canisters for hot water and coffee, and he asks her: "Coffee?"

[thebubblyone]

"Please," Hilda says. "You've quite the turn of phrase, Arthur. You do a lot of writing?"

[stand_unshaken]

"I wouldn't say a lot," he says, which means I'm not an aspiring pulp novelist. "But it helps me keep my thoughts in order. Doodle a little, too."

[thebubblyone]

"Oh, that's smashing. Sketches from your travels?" she wonders.

[stand_unshaken]

"Sure. Places I been, the people I rode with."

He's okay at keeping it light, but there's always a heaviness to his shoulders. Typical of new arrivals, but still very visible.

[thebubblyone]

And Hilda sees it, which makes her tone a little gentler.

"Must be quite the experience, hey? Travelling together, relying on each other."

[stand_unshaken]

"That it was," he agrees, not really meeting her eyes as he picks up a tray. He's gotten used to doing this, now. Easy to get used to, fresh food.

"That it was. It taught me a great deal of things."

[thebubblyone]

Hilda goes about serving herself some pasta, picks up her cutlery.

"Such as?" she asks, innocently curious.

[stand_unshaken]

"How to be around many different kinds of people," he starts. "Who to trust. What to trust."

He serves himself some of that pasta, too-- he'd never had it before coming here, but he can't fault Jack for having liked it, back then. Filling.

[thebubblyone]

She goes to find them a table.

"I'll be honest with you, Arthur. Some of that will translate here, but some of it...mm, well. You'll see."

[stand_unshaken]

He twitches a smile at her as he pulls up a chair, sitting down heavily. He clear his throat once, then takes his hat off and sets it on the chair beside him.

"Yeah, I got a feeling about that. It ain't all whores and thieves lookin' for a better life, here."

[thebubblyone]

"Well - you might be onto something with the seeking better lives," Hilda has to concede. "The rest...well, we're a varied bunch here."

Thieves, yes, certainly. But even if she sells him on more contemporary language, nobody's going to know what a sex worker is when he goes home, are they?

[stand_unshaken]

He does not notice any sort of hesitation at his lingo-- clearly been hanging out with aforementioned people long enough not to really care.

"Sure. But I suppose if the Admiral brought me here, he believes I got something to bring to the table."

[thebubblyone]

When you've lived as long as Hilda has, 'whores' is honestly pretty mild in the grander scheme of things.

"Absolutely! I mean, it doesn't seem to matter much who you were back home, and certainly not what side of the law you were on," she says cheerfully. "We've all got something to chip in regardless."

[stand_unshaken]

He picks up his fork and starts in on the food, unceremoniously. He's already glad he's not choking down a can full of peaches.

"I tried looking for the feller appointed to me for the month, but I ain't seen him around. How's yours?"

[thebubblyone]

"Mortimer? He's a quiet one," Hilda says, starting her own meal. "I'm paired up with Entrapta - you might have seen her around. Young woman, lots of purple hair."

She's hard to miss when she's not clambering through a vent or something equally worrying.

[stand_unshaken]

"Can't miss her," he agrees, mouth half-full. Sorry. Terrible manners, doesn't care to fix them.

"Seems energetic."

[thebubblyone]

One of these days she'll tell you about the cannibalism and then we can talk table manners, buddy.

"That she is. And absolutely brilliant, come to that. Just doesn't always think things all the way through."

[stand_unshaken]

"Impulsive," he says, gesturing with his fork. "I get that. Not much good can come from all that, but nothing that can't be, uh, practiced."

[thebubblyone]

"Exactly. It's just a bit of an arse that we're here in a place where not a lot of anything has consequences for long," she has to admit.

[stand_unshaken]

"Maybe it's like a kid, getting to fall off a pony a couple times before he gets to try a horse. Safe mistakes."

[thebubblyone]

Hilda smiles crookedly.

"You do have a good point. I'm just waiting for her to actually...find a pony. Metaphorically speaking."