Open Post: Hooked On A Feeling

[rememberettersberg]

What hobbies have you got? Susan had asked him, and he had to admit to not being sure. At school and for some time after, he played rugby. More recently, he only watched it on the television Peter had set up in the tech cave. Here at the mansion, he has books and research and the beginnings of mentoring, but it occurs to Nightingale that he has been building himself a facsimile of work and very little else. He's survived that way for half a century and been perfectly all right (though others may disagree with that assessment) but here, in this hinterland between realities, he is feeling a growing itch for... whimsy, perhaps.

At this moment, propping up the bar with a pint of bitter and a crochet hook, no one would dare accuse him of being whimsical. Nightingale is scowling fiercely at the hook, the yarn, his pint, and the book sitting open beside it. Company would be more than welcome.

Comments

[rememberettersberg]

"I think we have no choice but to hope for clemency." He smiles. "I'm sure we'd know by now if anyone had been horribly misled by a book here."

[timebethine]

"I'll be on my guard, all the same." Then, rising from his chair, Laertes makes a bow. "It's been a pleasure, sir. I'll be diligent in my practice--but not too diligent," he promises.

[rememberettersberg]

Nightingale dips his head in a bow-like gesture in response. "Very good. It won't be long until we can get you started on new spells."

[timebethine]

"I'll look forward to them--but not ask what they are, lest I be tempted to read ahead." He grins. "Farewell, Nightingale."

[rememberettersberg]

"Go well, Laertes." His smile melts into a scowl as his attention turns back to his crafting.