In an ideal world, Brown wouldn’t even be close to a cat, but alas… She did like cats, and she hummed her breath while she casually pet the Espurr-fellow’s folded ears - for better or for worse. Sure, maaaaaybe she threatened to bash his skull in if he didn’t comply with her simple request of keeping his fuzzy little ears within an arm’s reach of her, but it wasn’t like she was particularly crass at the moment, as she chewed on a cigarette nub and fluttered her lashes ever so coolly. Occasionally, Brown would cough into her sleeve and blow out a puff of smoke, but it was calm for the most part. Just how she liked it.
And it was this serenity the middle-aged aristocrat ended up ruining, as she cooed with a flutter of her lashes, “You know, you must be very brave to be asking for the opinion of a literal fucking murderer.” Or talking to one, for that matter! “Especially for a subject as menial as fashion,” she snarled while gnashing her teeth together, “What makes you think that I know shit about fashion? The fact that I happen to be rich and thus dress accordingly? You never see some fucking street vagrant dress with ermine and marabou, after all. That, or they must be a very, very accomplished thief…”
Her hand involuntarily fidgeted with her crow’s-feather brooch as she sighed, “But you are not a thief now, are you? You are just a student who attends a coffee shop every so often… And hopes that the cute barista who works there notices you…” She fluttered her lashes again, being sure to reveal a conniving sneer in the process. “... So obviously, I would not expect you to look like a fucking mess, but I do not expect opulence from you either.” Her hand gave his ears a pat before she - fucking finally - lifted it away so that she could comb through her own hair.
“Which is fine. You fit your role just fine. But you look like… An Espurr. I can tell that you are an Espurr even without your ears, if that makes much sense… Or those eyes. Those stupid fucking eyes. Have you met Johnson yet? He specializes in Psychic-types, but he’s also a huuuuuuuge bitch. Maybe he can have a better say on this subject than me, mm?”
Was that an insult? Or…
“But you are certainly adorable,” Brown drawled melodramatically, “if only because of those soft ears and big eyes… It is certainly a contrast from the fact that the jacket you wear makes you look a bit like one of those greasers from the dime-store movies. Whatever the fuck those are. As said before, I am sure you want to impress a certain someone, though I cannot say much on the matter…”
Her finger rubbed against the barbule of the crow’s feather while she chuckled under her breath and cooed, “... What I can say, though, is that your chances are decently high, if you keep that shit up. I say it as a good thing. I can never speak for all women, but…” Her laughter was cool, almost cold, as she fidgeted with her brooch once more. “... As someone with a lover, I will say that appearance does not matter as much as heart. You do have it, but you just… Do not show it a lot of the time, if that makes much sense…”
you're valid fizz, bless you. anyways, time for a follow-up. Brown can have one (1) not-dad in the forum games as a treat.
Creeeeeeeaaaaaaak.
The sound of the cabin door was enough to make Brown jump slightly when she entered the cabin, but her hand remained on the doorknob while she dipped her head at Jack and squeaked, “Oh, uh… Yes. I’m… Back.” She gave him a surprisingly wide, but still somewhat reserved, smile before glancing over her shoulder. “... I was surprised at how short the entire gig lasted, but… Well…” After attempting to gesture slightly with her hands, the young aristocrat eventually just lowered her hands in favor of actually getting inside the damn house and closing the door behind her.
“Okay, okay,” she whispered in that airy tone once more, before she skipped into the house and perked up at… Something. Her nostrils twitched as the young woman focused on the pan that Jack was currently cooking some meat in. Oh, did Brown love meat…
Which was probably one of the reasons why she was grinning so openly, even if the young woman nodded at his question and explained further, “I mean… Yes, it did. We couldn’t really try digging up any fossils because of the fact that it was so snowy down here in the lowlands, so she concluded that trying to go up to the slopes would basically give us hypothermia- Hypotherm… Hypothermo…” She paused before starting to break down into shaky laughter, apparently amused (but also self-conscious) at the butchering of the last word. “Cold sickness,” Brown interjected moments later in between laughs, “And thank the skies for all of that! I heard cold sickness was sort of a terrible way to die anyhow…”
She paused upon seeing Jack return the smile, though it was clearly more… Somber than she expected. Was she being overly enthusiastic about the whole thing? Or was he still worried about Skinner and the seekers? The pause only grew in length and tension as she peered over at the utensils laid out haphazardly throughout the kitchen, then heaved out a sigh.
“Your, uh, cloak?” the aristocrat repeated while pointing at the garment currently draped over her shoulders. She gave it a quick shake, before smiling bashfully. The coat admittedly didn’t look terrible on her, but it did make the petite woman seem much, much more menacing than she was at this point in her life.
It’s okay. You’ll get buff and edgy in a few years.
Either way, the young woman looked like a puffed out cat as Jack stepped over to Brown to take off her cloak, which… She sort of found a relief, because as she held out her arms rather awkwardly, it was pretty fucking obvious that the sheer weight of the garment was making her implode juuuuuust a bit on the inside.
“Mm?” the aristocrat piqued in when he mentioned the color choices, “Well, honestly…” Brown shot an almost longing gaze at the cloak before chuckling carefully. “... A lot of the outfits that I wore prior to, well, moving in with you were sourced by my husband.” Uh oh, sisters. “It is normal for ‘proper’ women to wear brightly colored clothes anyhow, if only to distinguish themselves from the common populace, as well as make them more ‘appealing’ to men.” Eeeeeeewwwwww.
Hell, even Brown found herself grimacing (though she tried a bit too desperately to bite it down) as she opined through gritted teeth, “I find brown easier on the eyes than all this green shit anyhow. I would not mind what Rochester is wearing, of course, but…” She reached rather miserably at the rags that once made up her vacation dress, then sighed. “... I don’t want something like this, Jack. Does that make sense? There’s, uh, too much baggage even if the fabric is light.” She paused again when the detective suggested that Rochester try smuggling in some aristocrat’s clothes, before breaking out into sharp laughter.
The young woman vigorously shook her head and squeaked, “Oh, no way! She would never do such a thing, even if we are speaking with each other again, Jack. She can’t stand the aristocracy; she’s not going to kiss up to them in any way whatsoever, and that includes dressing me up as a respectable woman, a proper woman. A lot of the practical clothes for digging fossils tend to be rather bourgeois in style and origin, anyhow…” With a slight pause, Brown fluttered her lashes and settled herself onto a nearby seat.
“But yes,” she sniffed, “I can try asking her to buy some coats, or something along those lines… I would freeze to death in what I was wearing before, hence why I asked you for the coat.” Brown then leaned back in her seat and held her hands behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling.
“About Rochester, though…” the young woman mused aloud as she haphazardly picked up a strip of duck and picked at it with her fingers (oh no), “She’s doing fine. These days, she has been trying to balance between our internship, her other scientific duties, and personal time with me and her girlfriend…” She paused, then shuddered ever so slightly at the latter. “I am fine with that, of course, but I do worry that she might get overwhelmed at times. I, uh, would not want her to make any more reckless decisions - you know…”