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[personal profile] fieryface
"This isny Scotland," Jamie mutters to no one in particular as he flops down near the lake. The fair is being taken down at last, and it seemed a bit dreary to him, to watch it all come to pieces, so he wandered off towards the lake in search of somewhere cooler.

There's too much sun for it to be Scotland, that's what he thinks as he inspects his arms, which are definitely looking redder and more freckled than they did this morning. He can only imagine what his face is like. Speaking of which--

"Ah, shit." He hurriedly rolls over to retrieve Ursula's sketch from his pocket. Well, it only got a little bit crushed! He lays it down on the ground and tries to smooth it out. He doesn't want it, exactly, but it seems too rude by half to just throw away someone's hard work like that. He imagines what Meg would have to say about that.

So once it's smoothed out he just leaves it on the ground there, looking uncertainly down at his own face.

Date: 2016-07-11 10:45 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"No..." No blood. No standing around with ale still on your tongue, watching someone or something bleed. "Funny kind of fair. But nice, aye, it was nice. Oh--oh, Jamie. I got something for me mam. I'll have to say it was from the castle, from Stirling, like. You know, someone come to sell French fans. Can't think why anyone would end up asking you about it, but..." But cover for him? Eh, it sounds stupid when he says it.

Date: 2016-07-11 10:53 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
He's reluctant for a moment, for no reason he can think of, but sure, he'll hand it over. "It folds up, aye? And it's painted. It's--" Ugh, it's stupid. Getting something like that for your mother. "I couldny give it to any girl, you know? Thousand fucking questions. But my mother doesn't know anything, she'll believe it's from wherever I say it is."

Date: 2016-07-11 11:30 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"I just thought, I dunno, the last baby died and she's pregnant again already, might make her feel a little--" Ugh. What a stupid thing. "Nothing like it in Scotland, that's for sure. And it's, I dunno, it's got flowers, she likes flowers I guess? I mean--fuck it, she's the wife of the Earl of Douglas, she's allowed to have something a bit special! The fuck is the point of being the Douglas if you dinny get your lady a fucking fan or something? And there, now it'll be something in the family. Nothing like it in the whole fucking country."

Date: 2016-07-12 01:29 am (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"Right! That's what I was thinking." He reaches to take the fan back again, still embarrassed but somewhat relieved. "But where should we keep the rest of this? We could get one of those rooms they have."

Date: 2016-07-12 01:14 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"Right. Just a place to put things, a place for a kip now and then. We'll go ask that Bar of theirs what it costs to keep one, aye?"

Date: 2016-07-12 01:56 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"I brought in a few things--pair of gloves, a dagger with a stone in the hilt--and traded them to the bar for credit, right? Something you can say you lost if anyone asks. --And aye, you're the king. You can have what you like."

He shares the laugh, ruefully. Supposed to have whatever they like, the king and the Douglas heir, except don't they half get in trouble when they try.

Date: 2016-07-12 03:44 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
William reaches over and swats at his arm. "I was thinking of myself. Hear it all the time from my dad, don't I? Losing things, not taking care of them, when he was my age he didn't have a pair of gloves to lose, am I sure I didn't give it to some whore, all that. --You are a wee mad James, though, no denying that." A big grin.

Date: 2016-07-12 05:12 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"You're no that type." He's not. It's Jamie, he has nightmares that don't always go away quick, but--it's Jamie.

William yawns and stretches back on the grass, arms folded behind his head. "Did you have any of those pies?"

Date: 2016-07-12 05:34 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"Girl selling them liked me."

Date: 2016-07-12 07:12 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"You can always tell, can't you? It was in her smile. And I made her laugh. Girls like that."

Okay, so the girl in question was a good ten years older than him, and he is obviously, blatantly, full of shit. But he's pretty sure she hadn't not liked him!

Date: 2016-07-12 08:04 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"Poor things. They can't help it, I can't help it. Victims all of us."

He scratches his belly, yawning again. "Want to go in, see about that room?"

Date: 2016-07-12 08:19 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
William's thinking much the same, that it's the end of a warm day and something cold to drink and somewhere softer to lie down might be nice. So he groans and grumbles up onto his feet, and reaches out a hand to help Jamie up.

Date: 2016-07-13 12:04 pm (UTC)
likeroaringlions: (Default)
From: [personal profile] likeroaringlions
"--Yeah, all right." He takes it, awkwardly-casually, and folds it in with the other two pictures. "Keep all this in our room, anyway, when we get one. And your bear. It's your bear now, I amn't taking that thing back."

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James Stewart

February 2017

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