Madison McKenna (_burnbabyburn_) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2016-01-09 02:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 016, jim, madison |
Who: Madison and Jim
When: Around 9:45am
Where: The second floor first, then the kitchen
Madison's first years after the loony bin had been chock full of learning experiences. Alone by choice as well as circumstance, oddly enough, she had learned many things the very, very hard way: driving, managing money, living alone and keeping safe while doing so, cleaning and finally, cooking. Among other things, of course. She wasn't good. She didn't have it in her to be good at something like cooking, but she managed. Food in itself had never been such a pleasure as everyone else seemed to find it, though under certain circumstances it could bring itself to taste like heaven. Today, she hoped, would be one such day.
Despite the inane situation in which she found herself, Madison had been ravaged by glee to have gone into the network just to understand it better, and come out of it with plans to have breakfast with a priest. A real, bonafide priest, trapped in here like she was, who did not do things because some Orderly - no, Ordinary - said so. One who, if she knew her context clues well - and Madison would stake her life on that skill - did not, at the very least, have regular, healthy sex. He wasn't about to start now, on the healthy anyway. The regular, well, that depended on what "the cloth" actually enveloped, in a manner of speaking.
It amused Madison that she had taken the time to check herself up on the mirror, trying to look as angelic as possible. It was only fair, after all. Without her normal hairclip she couldn't pull the two front locks of her hair back and make it extra Bible Study-appropriate, so a behind-the-ear tuck would have to do. As for the rest of her clothes, the only thing more Catholic looking might be a nun outfit. Or a loincloth if one was banking on emulating the Holy Social Justice Warrior. Madison was not.
Father Jim had said "next to the stairs", which could only mean one room. Hoping that he wouldn't make her stand there for ages like a tool, Madison made her way over to the stairs and waited by the first landing, leaning sideways against the railing. And then, wearing her best Catholic smile - which she could only guess was the same as a Protestant smile, only perhaps less musically inclined - she waited.