[The trek to and from Ginnungagap and the strange, unpleasant few days in the city that followed have put Evy entirely off her usual schedule. It's only after that horrid message from the night before, the one warning of the end, that she's been in any mood to tackle such things as marking assignments.
She's busy at her little tea-table, surrounded by papers and books, grading her students' work in Latin, Greek, and Egyptian, paying Amewbis no mind at all. It's not a situation that suits poor Mewby, needy at the best of times and just coming off a long sojourn without his mistress' patient attentions. When his squeaking attempts at meows are brushed off, he goes off in search of someone else to bother and succeeds magnificently.
It takes Evy a moment or two after she hears the hello to really register it, at which point, she glances over her reading glasses at the stranger in her room. He's not the gentleman who lived on the other side of the loo before; this one has only one arm, for one thing, and looks decidedly less English than the Doctor had.]
Oh! Hello.
[She gets up, sticking her pen behind one ear, and crosses the room--tidy, for the most part, but stuffed full of books--to retrieve her cat.]
[The cat wasn't particularly heavy and if anything it was more amusing than a bother but as he looked around the room until the others attention was gained by his generic greeting, he took note of the books and couldn't help but admire her collection. He had been told about a library here before, a grand one at that but he still had not had the motivation to step inside, not yet, not until he found his own feet. Still, it was a nice thing to see immediately, something familiar like the texts and scrolls that filled his bureau, his home, back where he came from.
When she finally turned to him, his attention shifted back immediately to acknowledge her acknowledging him, shifting the cat in his singular hold.] I apologise for the intrusion.
[As she stood, he watched her carefully but attempted to keep his posture relaxed enough, he didn't want to seem threatening, he just was unsure about most things. Though he was sure he had a cat, and was right in his guessing--her cat. Shifting to hold the beast outward towards her he gave a small shake of his head.]
Not a bother at all, more a surprise for having only just arrived to see you have company.
[She gestures vaguely with one hand, brushing his apology away as she shakes her head.]
It's no problem--I'm afraid Mewby intruded first.
[And as we all know, a cat's owner is responsible for its objectively stupid decisions. Evy takes her cat back and immediately ends up with a mouthful of fur; Amewbis has started butting his head against her jaw again, purring loudly.]
I try to keep the door shut, of course, but he always manages to find a way out of here. [She smiles, shifting the cat so she can hold out a hand to shake.] Evelyn Carnahan. I suppose that makes us flatmates.
/make's an apology-cake for the lateness of this tag
[The reaction of the cat amuses him and it draws a small smile to his lips as he watches the two. This woman, she seems like she has a head upon her shoulders and for being the first person he's met outside of what appeared to be his inner-circle of acquaintances, at least in this strange home he was living next to someone who at least seemed somewhat responsible and reasonable at that. Asides, she seemed to like books and well.
How could he say that was a bad thing. Still, at her words he gives a small shake of his head.]
Curious beasts, I'm sure. I promise you it's not a problem--at least I know of who he belongs to if he finds trouble. [When she extends her hands though, it's a custom he's not exactly used to and so he pauses for a moment before tentatively reaching out with his singular hand to grasp her own; his accented voice follows.]
Malik Al-Sayf. [A pause, and he squeezes the others hand within his own.] A pleasure, Madam Carnahan. At least I'll be sharing residence with someone who has a liking for texts.
And I'm afraid he finds trouble rather frequently. I don't doubt you'll see a bit more of him.
[Mewby makes a squeaking sort of noise, much closer to a trill than a meow, and Evy rolls her eyes.
Her eyes light up when the man gives his name. Malik Al-Sayf. He's the first person she's met here who gives the impression of being from the same part of the world as she--and while she's rather fond of Asgard, she misses Egypt dearly.]
The pleasure is all mine, sir. Where is it you're from?
[The temptation to ask in Arabic is overwhelming, but she resists. For the moment, anyway.]
[He can only chuckle, a small breath of amusement, at her comment and reaction to the over-affectionate feline. Normally cats where a nuisance, but this one seemed more well behaved and well, if he belonged to the person he was living next to to he figured that he should give him a chance. Yet, when he says his name, he's watching her and he see's that small spark because Malik is preceptive and it's his job to be so.
Straightening his posture slightly he gives a small arch of his eyebrow, inclining his head slightly towards her--her interest has his attention.] Syria.
Though from what I'm learning about most people in this realm, one deeply steeped within the past. [A beat.] Do you know of it? Syria, that is.
[She can't bring herself to describe Mewby as "well-behaved," but he is very good at being a cat. As evidenced by the fact that he decides he's tired of being held and starts fighting his way out of his owner's arms, crawling up her shoulder so he can jump off it to the floor.]
Oh, for goodness sake. [It's muttered. Good riddance, cat, go be a nuisance elsewhere for a few minutes.]
I do! I've never been, of course, but I'm familiar with it. [She beams at him. It's even more ideal than if he were Egyptian--they can trade stories and perhaps learn a bit from each other.] I've been living in Cairo most recently, myself. What year was it for you at home?
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Re: action; day 457
She's busy at her little tea-table, surrounded by papers and books, grading her students' work in Latin, Greek, and Egyptian, paying Amewbis no mind at all. It's not a situation that suits poor Mewby, needy at the best of times and just coming off a long sojourn without his mistress' patient attentions. When his squeaking attempts at meows are brushed off, he goes off in search of someone else to bother and succeeds magnificently.
It takes Evy a moment or two after she hears the hello to really register it, at which point, she glances over her reading glasses at the stranger in her room. He's not the gentleman who lived on the other side of the loo before; this one has only one arm, for one thing, and looks decidedly less English than the Doctor had.]
Oh! Hello.
[She gets up, sticking her pen behind one ear, and crosses the room--tidy, for the most part, but stuffed full of books--to retrieve her cat.]
I'm sorry--was he bothering you?
no subject
When she finally turned to him, his attention shifted back immediately to acknowledge her acknowledging him, shifting the cat in his singular hold.] I apologise for the intrusion.
[As she stood, he watched her carefully but attempted to keep his posture relaxed enough, he didn't want to seem threatening, he just was unsure about most things. Though he was sure he had a cat, and was right in his guessing--her cat. Shifting to hold the beast outward towards her he gave a small shake of his head.]
Not a bother at all, more a surprise for having only just arrived to see you have company.
no subject
It's no problem--I'm afraid Mewby intruded first.
[And as we all know, a cat's owner is responsible for its objectively stupid decisions. Evy takes her cat back and immediately ends up with a mouthful of fur; Amewbis has started butting his head against her jaw again, purring loudly.]
I try to keep the door shut, of course, but he always manages to find a way out of here. [She smiles, shifting the cat so she can hold out a hand to shake.] Evelyn Carnahan. I suppose that makes us flatmates.
/make's an apology-cake for the lateness of this tag
How could he say that was a bad thing. Still, at her words he gives a small shake of his head.]
Curious beasts, I'm sure. I promise you it's not a problem--at least I know of who he belongs to if he finds trouble. [When she extends her hands though, it's a custom he's not exactly used to and so he pauses for a moment before tentatively reaching out with his singular hand to grasp her own; his accented voice follows.]
Malik Al-Sayf. [A pause, and he squeezes the others hand within his own.] A pleasure, Madam Carnahan. At least I'll be sharing residence with someone who has a liking for texts.
no subject
[Mewby makes a squeaking sort of noise, much closer to a trill than a meow, and Evy rolls her eyes.
Her eyes light up when the man gives his name. Malik Al-Sayf. He's the first person she's met here who gives the impression of being from the same part of the world as she--and while she's rather fond of Asgard, she misses Egypt dearly.]
The pleasure is all mine, sir. Where is it you're from?
[The temptation to ask in Arabic is overwhelming, but she resists. For the moment, anyway.]
no subject
Straightening his posture slightly he gives a small arch of his eyebrow, inclining his head slightly towards her--her interest has his attention.] Syria.
Though from what I'm learning about most people in this realm, one deeply steeped within the past. [A beat.] Do you know of it? Syria, that is.
no subject
Oh, for goodness sake. [It's muttered. Good riddance, cat, go be a nuisance elsewhere for a few minutes.]
I do! I've never been, of course, but I'm familiar with it. [She beams at him. It's even more ideal than if he were Egyptian--they can trade stories and perhaps learn a bit from each other.] I've been living in Cairo most recently, myself. What year was it for you at home?