IC Inbox

[lightconductor]

If you have a message for me, Dr. John Watson, please leave it here. I shall certainly get back to you as soon as I can.
- JW

Comments

[crushed_pearls]

"That's the spirit! And if you're really so self-conscious about it you've got one of the few crafts the ship is friendly to. There's no kitchens or uncooked food or spare wood or fuckin', hair dye EVIDENTLY," Erin huffs and stamps her tiny foot, "but there is an infinite supply of both cloth and thread! Every shirt or pair of jeans you unpick is free raw material!"

[lightconductor]

"Cloth is also much simpler to work with than skin," Watson points out, as politely as you can say something like that. "Though if you want spare wood, I'm sure the leg of a chair would serve the purpose well enough. But give me an afternoon to work on this and I should have something for you, one way or another."

[crushed_pearls]

"Yes! Excellent! When it's all said and done if the outfit survives the party I shall put it up in my cabin so people can look at it. If I ever let anyone in there as like. My guest. At any point in time. But! Growth mindset, Doctor, growth mindset." Erin bounces on the balls of her feet, springing up and down on the bed in near-girlish excitement. "Anything else I can do to help at this time?"

[lightconductor]

"Oh, goodness. No, I think I have all the measurements I need."

Watson looks at her, briefly reflecting on how his life came to the point that this is only slightly surprising. He used to be so normal. Normal, and he thought he had an above-average level of excitement in his life.

"You are making it sound like I should sign the thing, for when you put it on display."

[crushed_pearls]

"Only if you want your name on it, Doctor. You wouldn't be the first artist aboard to request no credit for their work." Erin gives him a cheeky grin. "...God I am so much more playful when I'm tiny aren't I. This must be surreal after our last talk."