Place: Some Golden Space
Jun. 30th, 2013 11:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When he'd found the set of rooms, he hadn't been thinking of anything in particular, that he was aware of. But the resemblance of them to his college rooms in the year he had spent at Cambridge was striking enough that he had occupied them almost at a whim.
The main door is heavy and slightly too low for modern comfort. It opens onto a room that is high-ceilinged and grand; large, but not too large to lose its cosiness. The walls are panelled, the wooden floor varnished and mostly bare, the ceiling painted plain white. On the wall, opposite the door, there's a tall, arched window that reaches almost to the ceiling, heavy burgundy tapestry drapes pulled back, to reveal a snowy scene. There's a cushioned window seat at its base, and it always seems to be winter outside.
The wall to the left of the window houses the centrepiece of the room - a large, tall stone fireplace with a small fire in the grate that is lit most of the time - a pile of small logs stacked on the hearth beside it. There is a large mirror over the mantlepiece and a small wooden carving of a green man propped up against a few leatherbound books of poetry. In front is a deep rug, an armchair, a small low table and a large leather sofa. The latter has a grey wool blanket thrown over it and a few cushions piled up against one arm.
Either side of the fireplace are heavy oak doors. One leads to a surprisingly modern bathroom and the other to a small study, lined with bookshelves and with an antique oak desk under the small, deep window - which also looks out on the same scene as its larger counterpart. On the desk are papers, a fountain pen, and a small laptop.
To the right of the window in the main room is a large wooden bedstead - the bed itself neatly made with a feather comforter and white sheets, a cover matching the burgundy of the curtains folded partly back over those. On one side is a nightstand, on the other, a rug and the doors of a small walk-in closet. On the nightstand is a small vase containing three dark pink, heavily scented roses.
On the same wall as the door is a bookcase and a long, low cupboard that houses some crockery and a small, built in refrigerator. On the counter top is an electric kettle and yesterday's copy of Le Monde. It is always there, and always the most recent copy. He has given up trying to understand how it happens.
The bookcase is filled with a mixture of law, history, philosophy and poetry books - some were here when he arrived, and some he has borrowed from the libraries he has found here. There is also a small stereo and a selection of CDs.
There are no personal belongings, save for the books and CDs, and a few things he has been given since he arrived. Woodsmoke, floor polish, coffee and tobacco mingle with the scent of the roses and the air in here is always slightly cool, as if winter is encroaching from the view outside.
"Still may Time hold some golden space
Where I'll unpack that scented store
Of song and flower and sky and face,
And count, and touch, and turn them o'er,
Musing upon them..." - Rupert Brooke
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-28 07:21 am (UTC)Could he speak? Sure, but only stuff no one wanted to hear anyway. That hasn't changed...
Very, very reluctantly, he gives a small nod.*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-28 12:10 pm (UTC)drink, but keeps his eyes on Wright for any signs of emotion.*
I see. Then should I suppose that we have, in fact, met before?
*And there's only briefest of pauses, not long enough for an answer, before he shrugs - his tone brisker as he nods to Wright's mug*
Drink your tea, Wright. You have yet to have that shower or dress those cuts.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-28 02:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-28 04:47 pm (UTC)When Wright glances at the slightly open bathroom door and then back at him he raises an eyebrow in response.*
You don't need my permission, Wright - you are a guest.
... There are clean towels and you may help yourself to anything in there that you need.
The first aid kit is in the cupboard above the sink - when you are finished showering, please bring it with you.
*And he puts down his mug with a further frown as he looks over Wright's clothes again, stained with dried blood and filth.*
I will find you something to wear after you have showered. You can't put those back on, particularly not when you have healing cuts.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-31 05:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-31 11:23 pm (UTC)He puzzles over which Wright this might be, casting his mind back to the people he knows, or knows of, who have left this place only to be returned, but he can recall none who match the Wright he had just met. Nor can he recall hearing of any incidents severe enough to cause loss of speech, save that is for the unsolved murders - and he did not recall ever meeting the Wright who became a victim.
The sudden cessation of noise breaks into his thoughts and he puts the tea down hurriedly, with a frown at his own absentmindednss.
Pushing himself to his feet, he crosses the room, pulling open the closet door and surveying the contents for a while, arms crossed. He pulls out a few items, examining them critically before either putting them aside or replacing them on the rail, a slightly wry smile as a grey long sleeved t-shirt joins the pair of jeans draped over his arm.
That done, he lays the clothes over the back of the sofa, and resumes his seat.*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-04 01:52 pm (UTC)When he's done, he keeps a big towel and grabs his clothes (Edgeworth would be mad if he lost them), his turtle, and after some rummaging, the first aid kit. It's a lot to hold on to, but he manages somehow. The door is trickier. He has to put some of it down first and then pick it back up again once it's open, then scoot through.*
((I feel like this tag sucks. I dunno. INSECURITIES WHEE.))
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-08 02:42 pm (UTC)Put these on.
*And he holds out the jeans, reaching to take the first aid kit and Phoenix's clothes in return. He makes no move to touch the turtle, having realised by now that for some reason it seems to have a special significance for the man. He looks Wright up and down a little critically, noting again that he seems thinner than the one he knew, and there's a slight frown as his gaze flickers to the jeans.
Wright is well wrapped in a towel, but he averts his eyes a little all the same, for the sake of the man's modesty.*
You may need to belt them in a little, but the length should be fine.
I have a shirt for you too, but I want to treat those first.
*And he nods towards a rather obvious opened cut on Wright's arm - although it hasn't escaped his observation that all the cuts Wright has sustained seem confined to his upper body - the worst around his neck and wrists and hands, some on his face. But it's a relief to note no further injuries - given the state of the man's clothes he'd been concerned, at the least.*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-13 11:38 pm (UTC)He does some have bruises from his falls in addition to the cuts, but none of them are really bothering him anymore. Well, the one Edgeworth pointed out does when Phoenix decides to poke at it, so maybe he's still got the right idea.
He's also still wearing his medical bracelet. It's too tight to take on and off easily, so he just keeps in on at all times. If Edgeworth were to bother to read it, he'd see that on the front it list's Phoenix's name, Edgeworth's cell phone number, and a brief note of his conditions, namely dementia and memory loss and mutism.*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-18 03:05 pm (UTC)His gazes settles on the medical bracelet briefly, then meets Wright's eyes immediately after, but he doesn't ask, instead looking around the room for the best lit area.
Abruptly, he crosses to the window, putting the first aid kit down on the folding stool that often acts as a makesift table, then extracting a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of cotton wool from the small green box.
He gestures to Wright to follow him, pointing at the cushioned window seat firmly.*
Sit.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-19 07:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-19 11:37 pm (UTC)I'm afraid that I can't make it painless, Wright. But this will reduce the chances of your needing to visit the infirmary.
*Replacing the bottle on the table, he looks at Wright with a slight frown.*
You never did tell me if we had met before.
*And there's the briefest hesitation before he places a hand under Wright's elbow, supporting his arm and examining the cuts in the light from the window. His fingers tense slightly in anticipation of the reaction as he brings the cotton wool into contact with the broken skin.*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-21 04:03 am (UTC)The second remark catches him off guard. He'd forgotten about that...and was kind of expecting Edgeworth to also. Well, since he apparently hasn't, he probably ought to tell him... Except it wasn't really a yes or no question and... right, his PDA is over on the table. So how is he supposed to answer?
So he is, unfortunately, not looking when Edgeworth applies the antiseptic. When it touches his wound he gasps and hisses, nearly jerking away before he remembers not to, and frowns, biting his lip. Okay, sure, it hurts, but jumping through that thorn bush hurt worse...probably. This isn't exactly done yet...*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-23 03:59 pm (UTC)I'm sorry, Wright. But do try to keep still.
*And then he glances over at the PDA and frowns, as he applies the cotton wool to another cut.*
Have we met more than once before today?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-30 07:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-01 09:13 pm (UTC)He watches Wright a little more as he discards the cotton wool, rips off a new piece and soaks it in antiseptic.*
I wish that I could say I remember, but this place...
*He shrugs as he applies the cotton wool to another cut, this time on Wright's neck.*
... unfortunately none of us are as unique here as we like to believe we are on our own worlds.
*And there's a smile at that although he doesn't look up. Then something occurs to him and he adopts a casual tone.*
Have you always been acquainted with Mr Anderson?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-13 05:33 am (UTC)He hasn't heard of anyone else who's gone through what he has, and for their sake, is glad of that. On the other hand, he knew from the start didn't he? About alternates... It was one who told him who he - was. And that was...here. In his world.
...But those things he'd seen, behind those locks, even if they were twisted, they were still real, right? And they'd come from that world...the one where you're not even allowed to believe in this one...
He's wrapped up in his thoughts and barely registers the sting this time, even as his body flinches on its own. He almost misses the question too, but when he does realize it, he stares at Edgeworth in surprise and confusion. "Always"? How could he have "always" been...? It's true that he's known him pretty much as far back as he can remember... Does that count? Is that what he meant...? Unsure how else to answer, he shrugs and half-nods, looking away.
...Although, now that he thinks about it, Nick is the one who'd be most likely to be 'the same' as him, but they're not really alike at all, are they...?*
((Sorry these keep taking so long ._.;;))
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-06 04:08 pm (UTC)Then he stands back, running a critical eye over Wright as he screws the cap of the antiseptic bottle tightly back in place, then a slight nod as he places it back into the first aid kit.
A step across to the sofa and back again and he holds out the long-sleeved grey t-shirt to Wright, watching him specualtively as he speaks.*
I only know one Wright who was close friends with Mr Anderson.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-06 06:18 am (UTC)He does? Then he knows? Did he tell him too much...?
...Well, it's too late now. He bites his lip and hastily pulls the shirt over his head and waits for whatever might come next, keeping his turtle clutched tightly.*