at the back of Milliways

[mycursedface]

Medusa is not...okay, maybe she is hiding in Milliways. There are sound reasons for doing so! Including, but not limited to, the fact that Sam's bed is nice.

Still.

She is a creature of air and water and earth, and it's actually nice outside at the moment. Flowers and grass and leaves and warm. Not as warm as home, but acceptable. Which is why she's walking outside dressed in nothing but a white sundress (with a halter neck) and jeans.

Also a nosestud in the shape of a tiny spider. India has...left some impression.

Comments

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

Atton spends a great deal of his time outside, doing various active things. Like running, or running through lightsaber forms, or swimming, or, in this case, hitting a punching bag.

The punching bag does not look pleased, mostly because Atton drew a frowning face on it earlier.

[mycursedface]

"Atton!" She sounds cheerful.

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Meda!" He, too, sounds cheerful.

[mycursedface]

"What...are you doing?" Her glasses are hooked over a pocket of her jeans, so she's facing him with her eyes closed.

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"I'm hitting a frowning face." Atton says, pointing at the face. "I was going t'imagine someone's face there, but there's not really anybody I can think of that I dislike that much."

[mycursedface]

Medusa tilts her head.

"Really?"

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Well. Nobody alive, at any rate. My enemies are many, but the amount of people I actually really hate is remarkably few, y'know."

[mycursedface]

"...huh. Interesting."

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"I am a very interesting person, yes."

[mycursedface]

"I still don't - hang on." She fumbles for her glasses, slide them on and then opens her dark eyes to look at him. "I don't understand why you're hitting it, though."

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"It's exercise, and training."

[mycursedface]

"Oh." Beat. "Don't you need other people?"

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Well, yes. Couldn't find Will, though."

[mycursedface]

Pause. Grin.

"I'm here?"

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

Blink.

"Yes, you are?" Atton hasn't quite caught your meaning, yet, Medusa. "And ... also very observant?"

[mycursedface]

Slowly,

"You could practice with me."

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

Atton blinks, again.

"But you're all small and fragile."

[mycursedface]

"Since when?"

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Since always." Atton makes a wide hand gesture. "I'd just end up hurting you, and I don't want that."

[mycursedface]

"But I'm not fragile!" She wails. 'Small' is, sadly, un-debatable.

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Your bones are hollow."

[mycursedface]

"And?"

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"Hollow." Atton repeats. "Easily broken. Besides, what are you going to do, bite my ankles? Stand on a table so that you can lay devastating blows at my waist?"

[mycursedface]

Her eyes narrow.

"I'm not that short."

[stuck-mynock.livejournal.com]

"You're a pocket-Gorgan." Atton says. "I'm not sparring with you. No."