Re: Passages: Bruce B and Matt M
[Matthew pressed the makeshift bandana into a pocket. Without it, he was much less intimidating, deeply ordinary and almost affable with his soft mouth and earnest (if mildly blank) expression.] You are Banner then? [It was doubtfully asked, and the accent made it sound more like "Ye-ahrr Banner, theyn" in a musical up-down of phrase. Matthew wasn't getting the more austere scents of Clementine's profession, nor the alcohol-preservative-incense scents of the doctors from his time. He didn't even get a whiff of chamomile off this man. He smelled very ordinary and stuffy, like an old armchair, and he was certainly diminutive enough.
Unerringly, Matthew moved to the flat bed on one side of the room and sat on it, cautious at first, easing his battered bones down until his weight came down at once. He breathed light against the bandages and turned his head in Bruce's direction, listening for him.]
What hast thou done for Arachne, then, that she recommended thee so highly 'ere her death?