Welcome to Gaia! ::

"It's alright," Emerwyn shoved her hair back with her hard fingers. "I've put the water on. It should be a couple of minutes. Come in." She walked over to her nightstand and picked up the bottle of cough medicine. "Last time I tried I was pretty weak. But I'm not really used to my fingers yet... I'm afraid I might crack the bottle. It's only cheap plastic." She simply held it with a helpless expression on her face.

Emerwyn almost laughed watching Ian trying to open the bottle, but she was actually very impressed with the skill he had already acquired with his hands.
"I hope not. I wouldn't be able to write anymore, among other things." She took the medicine with a thanks, and she sipped from it. "But did you ever think - we could become complete animals? What if we lose all human conciousness?" The teapot whistled. "Oh, hold that thought." She scurried over to the boiling pot and started preparing two cups of tea, leaving Ian alone in the main room.

"I hope you like green. Personally, it's my favorite." She handed him a teacup, and perched on the bed. Moving her memory book to her other side, she motioned for him to sit beside her.

"So," she said. "You've learned by now that I love to write."
She looked back at the wall where her bed lay against. All over it was hung scraps of paper with notes, scrawled verses, and full poems. Also, there was a photograph of her and all of her friends in the reading room, and the separate photo- the one of Jerrick at the airport.
"What do you like to do?"

"I was in a reading discussion group, myself. I suppose that goes hand in hand if you're a writer. I can't say I know much about the druids, but I've read as much as I can about British history. I was, after all, born and raised in England."

Emerwyn took the question as casual. But it was hard to speak. After all, not only was Jerrick the most important person in her life, but also the cause of her illness. "Oh... That's Jerrick. He's an old friend... from back home. That picture is from.. the last time I saw him. He was on his way to London..." She almost wished she'd gone with him. "All of them-" She said now, drifting away, as much a she could, from the painful memories. She gestured towards the other photo. "-were my very closest friends, and were the members of my reading group.

"Heh. I got a lot of stereotypical remarks while working at the bookstore. Many times when I've spoken to someone, they would get all excited. 'Oh my God, you're British?! Say "Bloody Hell!"'" Emerwyn laughed. "It got a little old. Many Americans, if you'll pardon my saying so, do seem to still hold their colonization against 'us'..."

Emerwyn laughed out loud..... and didn't cough. There wasn't even a tickle. That was odd.
"I have to admit, that was the phrase of choice when my father got frustrated..."
She sighed.
Is there any way to have a conversation without getting mortally depressed? She wasn't upset about her father, not at all. Her parents probably didn't even know she'd disappeared.
For some reason, however, Emerwyn felt something odd about Ian's prescence, particularly after mentioning Jerrick... She didn't know what it was, but it was making her, for lack of a better word... anxious. And rather upset. She cast her eyes down and started twiddling her fingers.