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Qebhet (coolwaters) wrote in nevermore_logs,

Qebhet was no stranger to unusual requests. Last year, she'd been involved with the funeral of a gentleman who had specified in writing his wish to be buried astride his beloved motorcycle. Occasionally a family would ask for the body to be divided up and cremated piece by piece, each body part having been promised to a particular relative. Different families had different etiquette when entering the home, different customs that had to be observed, different sensitivities to be minded.

Admittedly, she had never been asked to be blindfolded before, but if it was a little odd, it didn't seem especially unreasonable, given all the Merry Men had been through. Kidnapping, torture and worse: a person might be justifiably anxious about letting others into their home after such an ordeal. And when Marian had apologetically suggested waiting until she felt up to leaving the house— well. Qebhet knew something of being trapped by paralysing fear of the world outside one's door. Marian was reaching out, inviting her into the Merry Men's secret hideout, and a blindfold seemed like a very minor inconvenience in exchange.

"It's no trouble," she said, returning Marian's smile warmly. She took the sleeping mask, handing Marian the six pack of beer she'd brought in exchange, and slipped the elastic over her head, dutifully adjusting the mask so that she was completed blindfolded. "Oh— and my phone, too," she remembered and dug it out of her pocket.

Arthur had by this point followed Marian to the back door, and he slipped past her to wave a hand in front of an oblivious Qebhet's face, testing her reaction, which was only to bump his arm as she passed the phone over. "Oops, sorry! I've done this in the wrong order, haven't I?"