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[Open] Under the Weather
Feb. 2nd, 2024 01:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thethirteenthchildDahlia's normal seat at the library has been empty for more than a week now. Her desk, which sits in the lobby of town hall, has been temporarily overtaken by Yorick (as if the poor man doesn't have enough duties) so that there is someone to answer questions near the door. He explains, a bit harried, that unfortunately Ms. Leeds is quite sick.
"Between keeping to rations during this dreadful famine and the chill from the blizzard, unfortunately she just hasn't been in. Anemia, Mr. Jones says. Low iron in the blood. Plus it seems like some sort of cold or flu's set in as well. The poor thing," Yorick elaborates. "Still doing her share of the paperwork from home, though. Here's her phone number if you need to give her a ring."
Even if you don't have any specific business with her, she would probably benefit from being called on by a friend.
- By Phone -
"Leeds Residence."
It's hard to imagine Dahlia's voice being so flat and rough, but the speaker on the other line is undeniably her. It's clear from her vocal quality that her nose is stuffed, and she must be exhausted. She waits for you to speak.
- Visiting Hours -
Dahlia has never been particularly vibrant in her complexion, but the woman who answers when you knock at the door is utterly pallid. She's wrapped herself in a heavy blanket which she wears as a bulky shawl, making her take up twice the amount of door frame she usually does. Her blonde hair is wild, sticking out at all angles. She tries her best to brighten at your arrival.
"Hi," she says, mustering the energy for a smile. Whether it's genuine or not remains to be seen. "Sorry you had to come all the way here in this weather. What can I do for you?"
- Caged Bird -
Despite her illness, when the weather is clear and the setting sun lights the snow ablaze with rich golden light, Dahlia can be seen outside. She is bundled in altogether too many layers, looking like a cocooned butterfly, standing at the edge of her hill and gazing forlornly at the trees of Lockwood Forest.
Perhaps she feels cooped up?
"Between keeping to rations during this dreadful famine and the chill from the blizzard, unfortunately she just hasn't been in. Anemia, Mr. Jones says. Low iron in the blood. Plus it seems like some sort of cold or flu's set in as well. The poor thing," Yorick elaborates. "Still doing her share of the paperwork from home, though. Here's her phone number if you need to give her a ring."
Even if you don't have any specific business with her, she would probably benefit from being called on by a friend.
- By Phone -
"Leeds Residence."
It's hard to imagine Dahlia's voice being so flat and rough, but the speaker on the other line is undeniably her. It's clear from her vocal quality that her nose is stuffed, and she must be exhausted. She waits for you to speak.
- Visiting Hours -
Dahlia has never been particularly vibrant in her complexion, but the woman who answers when you knock at the door is utterly pallid. She's wrapped herself in a heavy blanket which she wears as a bulky shawl, making her take up twice the amount of door frame she usually does. Her blonde hair is wild, sticking out at all angles. She tries her best to brighten at your arrival.
"Hi," she says, mustering the energy for a smile. Whether it's genuine or not remains to be seen. "Sorry you had to come all the way here in this weather. What can I do for you?"
- Caged Bird -
Despite her illness, when the weather is clear and the setting sun lights the snow ablaze with rich golden light, Dahlia can be seen outside. She is bundled in altogether too many layers, looking like a cocooned butterfly, standing at the edge of her hill and gazing forlornly at the trees of Lockwood Forest.
Perhaps she feels cooped up?