(no subject)

[we_bring_hell]

Harrowhark is in the bar, wearing the style of facepaint known as the Vanitas, with no lower teeth and sharp angular edges. It's good to be back in her makeup, even if the consecration was a greater undertaking than anticipated.

Although she is formally painted from the neck up, she is wearing some of the more informal clothes her room had supplied; soft trousers and a hoodie all in black. She is not wearing gloves today, because her palms are wrapped in bandages, but it is the kind of wound she is used to dealing with and it is healing quickly. The pinpricks of pain around her lips are worse, if only because it's been a very long time since she underwent the ritual of the Sewn Tongue.

She is diagramming spirals on paper, working in ink rather than blood right now. She can't spare any blood currently. She has refreshments to share, if you like faintly cucumber-flavored water and very bland, crumbly biscuits.

Comments

[blue_ajah]

The front door opens and Moiraine glides into the bar, moving with her customary grace.

She is carrying an artist's sketch pad and a box of colored pencils, which is not usual for the Aes Sedai.

A flicker of motion catches her eye, and she changes direction in order to approach Harrow.

"Lady Ninth. Light illumine."

[acrookedpath]

Look who's finally awake for the day! Bleary-eyed, disheveled, and toting a novelty mug reading RISE AND SHINE, BITCHES, Wei Wuxian shuffles over from the bar to the Ninth's table, drawing up a smile as he goes.

"Good morning, Ninth," he offers, along with his traditional bow. "...Afternoon? I think it may be afternoon."

How has he slept for an additional four or five hours and still woken up tired? This seems deeply unfair.