Maggie Pruitt has lungs of steel. (quidditative) wrote in willowbrookrpg, |
Maggie smiled when he spoke. He was British, though his accent was different from her dads'. She didn't mention it yet as she pretended not to notice his wince of pain. He worked so hard to hide it that she wasn't going to add to his discomfort by showing that she saw his cringe. She simply continued to gather up papers, putting them in order as she went to give him time to compose himself.
Not wanting him to think she was mocking or mimicking, she worked hard to keep the accent she had until she was ten down. Every time she talked to one of her dads, her London accent came back in full force. She'd been in the states for 18 years, and she'd learned how to keep the accent mellow. Being in New York, most people thought she was from Brooklyn if she got lazy with her vowels. Anyone from Britain knew her for what she was, though. "It's nice to meet you, Robert. If you need a tour, I've been here for seven years, and I can show you around." She smiled pleasantly as she gathered the last of the pages and took the ones in his hands before she stood. "What part of England are you from?" She was curious and glad to know someone from home. "Dad is from Burntwood, in Staffordshire, and Daddy is from London, though no one can say London Proper since it's a very small bit of land in the grand scheme of things." She was chattering a little to cover his standing.